#the PG-13 rating of one (1) curse word

[changeling-rin]

Just re - read DL, and read a bunch of fics on Ao3 crossing them over with Linked Universe and I forgot how much I love these boys. <3 And seeing how different the Linked Universe is from DL. . .if they boys were given one swear, who would get it, why, and in what context? And how would Shadow and/or Lore try to say it first?

Hmm.

One single swear for the whole group... obviously Shadow tries to claim it. Keyword being tries, because Lore, Blue, and Mask all end up working together to interrupt him before he can get it out. Lore because he wants to use it on the Windfish, Blue because think of the children's ears beyond the Walls, and Mask because think of Ocarina's ears.

Ironically, Mask is then the one who uses it, in a burst of frustration against Shadow.

Everyone is scandalized. Everyone.

[yoonia]

Ever A Never After: Act 1

⟶ Chapter Summary | It feels like a dream come true. Prince Charming comes to the rescue, and then he is suddenly proclaiming his love to you. The promise of your happily ever after is suddenly within arm’s reach. Yet sinister ploys are at play, coming in the way of your happy ending just when you are merely a step away from reaching it

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 19,688 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | PG-13, +18 / M for future chapters; slow burn, black magic, curses, fantasy beasts/monsters, fantasy violence, fantasy weapons, mentions of (possible) characters death, blood, self inflicted injury (pretty harmless, no weapons are involved in this part), sudden wedding proposals, coercion, hypnotism, betrayal. ⟶ Special thanks to my beta readers, @downbad4yoongi, @theodea

⟶ Story Masterlist: Ever A Never After | next chapter ⇢

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⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

Once upon a time, in a magical kingdom known as Andalasia…

A place where each story ends with happily ever afters and a dream can become reality with one simple wish. Ruled by the powerful Sorceress Queen Rosalyn, who reigns the kingdom with her iron fist, steel heart, and enchanting spells, the kingdom prospers with riches and an abundance of good fortune. 

Magic exists in this place as the main core that holds the entire kingdom together. 

It protects the people of the kingdom from the evil forces lying in wait within the shadows. Magic also brings light and joy to the people of the kingdom, opulence and prosperity to the land, allowing Andalasia to bloom magnificently for the past century among other magical kingdoms within the realm.

With magic, the people of the kingdom—even those who aren’t mages or sorcerers—are able to have a strong connection with the surrounding nature. The blessings of magic spreads through the land, providing crops and provisions for the people throughout the year. It also spreads through the waters flowing from the mountains and all the way to the open sea, enriching the land, the towns and the vast farmlands within the kingdom’s territories. 

The blessings of magic also allows the humans and the creatures of the wild—the animals and fairies—to speak in the same language. Allowing all part of the kingdom to live in harmony and peace under the same sky. 

But just like two sides of a coin, magic has another face that the people despises the most; dark magic, with its evil spells and curses, which often draws in malicious forces and lures the beasts and monsters that would pose a threat to the kingdom. 

For years, the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyn, has managed to protect the people by using her powers. Yet dark magic has always been powerful. Enough to continue existing in the darkest places of the kingdom, hiding in the shadows, waiting in the crevices of the land for anyone who would be strong enough to wield and harness it. 

There is only one kind of magic in Andalasia that is strong enough to defeat these dark spells. 

Stronger than the magic that the Queen possesses and casts to rule the kingdom and its people. The most powerful magic that everyone holds out their hopes, dreams, and wishes for. The one that everyone most desperately seeks, no matter what risk they would take to find it. Even the animals and wild creatures of the woods would sing praises about it between the breezing wind, while people within the kingdom would write fables to commemorate its existence.

It is the magic mostly known as the true love’s kiss. 

Ever since you were just a little girl, you have heard many stories about it. From the tales that had been written in the books and scribes about the magical moments that are shared by those who have embraced their happily ever afters with their true love’s kiss. 

Once you become old enough to understand all there is to know about the magic made possible with true love’s kiss, you begin to feel a deep sense of yearning growing within you. A desire so profound to find your own happily ever after, and to find someone that you could share your true love’s kiss with. This desire has filled your thoughts and dreams, always keeping you wishing and praying for the opportunity to look out to the world so you can find it for yourself. 

And last night, after a seemingly long wait, fate itself has decided to answer your prayers by sending you a wonderful dream. A dream filled with signs telling you that your wish may soon come true. 

What you saw in your dream was everything that you had always pictured to happen. It got you feeling elated, hopeful, and it had woken you up with the strong desire to immortalise it while you had the chance to. 

The sun was barely up when you first opened your eyes, yet there was no way you could remain idle, no matter how comfortable it would have been to stay in bed. Your energy was already high, pushing you to start working on bringing the key piece of your dream into reality while it is still fresh in your memories. 

An hour or so has passed since, and you have been moving around your quaint bedroom, bringing with you scraps of fabrics, ribbons, and various other raw materials that you managed to gather from the garden before the sky grew bright. The rapid thrum of your heartbeat becomes the music you hum to while you carefully combine the materials, pinning each piece onto the wooden mannequin standing in the center of your bedroom—the same mannequin you would normally use to create your pretty dresses.

Except instead of displaying a dress, the wooden mannequin has been set up to display your newest creation. These beautiful scraps of fabric that you have collected and formed together aren’t meant to be any piece of clothing that you might be wearing later once the season changes, but to bring the object of your dream—the object of your deepest desire—to come alive. 

As your creation is slowly forming into its final shape right before your eyes, you feel a rush of enthusiasm and joy brewing inside your chest. A feeling that you share with your busy little helpers that have been moving in tune with you from every corner of the room. 

Their presence has become another reason why you are so full of energy this morning. They are the true blessing that had come from the forest, lured by the sound of your voice as you were singing the wistful tune of your aspiration the moment you woke up from your deep slumber. 

Each animal now present in the room are either having fun watching and cheering for you, or helping you with all the different tasks that they can handle. You enjoy watching your small friends following your instructions obediently while singing along with the cheerful tune you are humming while you continue to work. 

The wild hummingbirds that are usually shy and diffident are now fluttering around the mannequin, securing the ribbons that you have specifically chosen for your project. The fluffy chinchillas keep running back and forth to bring in more scraps and little accessories from your drawers to add to your creation. 

Once in a while, some more of your fluffy little fellows slip into your room. Always carrying with them the various items that they could find from the forest and the small patch of garden right outside of your cabin in case they would be useful. 

Just like the pair of wild sparrows that are flying in through your window right this moment. The sound of their cheerful chirping fills the room, drawing your attention to their arrival. “Here are some more leaves and fresh straws that you can use for the hair, sweet Blossom.” 

A smile is lifted on your face as they drop some autumn leaves and fresh-smelling straws from their beaks and talons into your open palms. “Why, thank you, sweethearts,” you gratefully say to them, “These should make the hair look all fluffy and soft.” 

Soft flutters rise in your chest as you lean to give each sparrow a light peck on top of their heads. A gesture that you give not only because you are feeling grateful for their help, but also for the way they are calling you with your childhood nickname in such an endearing way. 

Blossom.

Your mother had been the one who gave you the special name when you were born. It was said that the flowers seemed to blossom more beautifully the moment you came into this realm, and the nickname has stuck on you ever since. The name that is interchangeable with your birth name, and one that anyone who is close to you would often choose to call you with. 

You begin humming to yourself again as you drift back to your mannequin, pinning the leaves into the crown of the mannequin’s head. You have yet to get everything done when you hear soft voices calling for you excitedly from below. 

“How about these bronze quartz for the eyes?” A pair of white wild bunnies call out to you as they hop around your ankles. Clapping your hands with joy, you bend down to gracefully accept their gifts. 

“Oh, yes!” you squeal as you lift the pair of bronze quartzes to your eyes, loving how they glow under the bright morning sunlight. 

“How lovely, and they look perfectly similar to the eyes looking back at me in my dreams,” you delightfully exclaim to them as you attach the dark-coloured crystals to the mannequin’s face, giving it a pair of eyes that are glinting beautifully as if they are coming alive. “Those eyes looked as dark as the night sky but were glowing like twilight when I looked deeply into them in my dream, and these pretty quartz are reminding me of them.” 

Ada, the gentle deer, prances over, bumping her head against your calves to draw your attention to her. “Then how about these are some goose feathers I found at the lake this morning? Would these help too?” she gently offers as she drops the delicate feathers by your feet. 

With an astonished gasp, you bend down to your knees to retrieve it. You take a moment to marvel at them as a flutter of delirious giggle rises in your throat. “What beautiful feathers, perfect for a prince. I wonder where I should put this,” you ponder to yourself, tapping your chin as you admire the feathers’ colouring—its golden-brown gradient shade that looks luxurious, like pieces of expensive materials that you can only see adorning the fancy dresses or suits that the nobles wear to the Queen’s royal ball.

With a soft bubbling laughter, you twirl on your feet before pinning the feathers on its upper torso, and you can almost see it shimmer as the sunlight falls on them. 

“Oh, how perfect!” you marvel at the mannequin standing right before you with a sigh. Stepping back from it, you take in the result of your hard work, making sure that you have followed every little detail that has been engraved in your memory. 

“Just what exactly are you making so early in the morning? Keeping everyone busy before you even had your breakfast,” Poppy, the sassy squirrel who is also your most loyal companion, huffs curiously as she climbs over your shoulder, wanting to have a clear look at what you are creating. 

“Oh, Poppy. My dear sweet Poppy.” A dreamy sigh escapes from your lips, which only draws more confusion on your little friend’s face. “I had a dream last night.” 

“A dream?” 

“Oh yes, Poppy. A wonderful dream.” You cannot help but giggle as a giddy feeling fills your chest. You also feel a sense of longing, an odd sensation which has been plaguing you ever since you woke up from this magical dream. 

“Tell us about the dream, Blossom,” your friends chirp and sing from all around you, “Tell us!” 

With a smile, you slowly drop down to the floor cushions at the corner of your bedroom, finding comfort as you begin to share your tale, “I dreamed of a prince. A very handsome, charming, and powerful prince.” 

With your eyes on the wooden mannequin, you gesture your hand at your nearly finished work, “And he looks just like this.” 

The statuette figure that stands before you, shaped by the decorated and fully-dressed wooden mannequin, appears like the prince of your dream. Standing tall enough that you have to lift your chin up to look at it properly even while you were on your feet, the replica of the prince seems to come alive. You may not have been able to see his face as clearly as you would have liked, with how hazy that dream now seems to your mind. Yet as you run your gaze over your creation, you have to admit that you may have come close to getting at least something about him right. 

The upper frame of the mannequin is draped with a made-up attire that looks like a three-piece suit. While it doesn’t look as refined as the suit you pictured in your mind, it still looks intricate enough to resemble the fancy suits made for nobles. 

The jacket, made from a piece of wool which you once used to craft yourself a winter coat, is fitted to show the figure’s broad shoulders and trim waist. You didn’t forget to add a long tail at the back of the jacket, giving it a more sophisticated look—which you can imagine would flow prettily should the ‘prince’ walks across the room to ask you for a dance. The royal blue hue of the fabric allows the suit to stand out under the bright morning sunlight penetrating into the room. You can almost imagine it, the person wearing this jacket shining among the other people in a massive ballroom, drawing everyone’s attention just as you are unable to look away from it now. 

The golden-brown goose feathers that Ada had brought you look like golden embroideries adorning the lapels of the jacket. With a subtle sheen on them, the feathers are able to catch the sunlight perfectly as you try to look at them from different angles. 

Beneath the jacket, a waistcoat made of a matching fabric but in deep brown hugs the mannequin’s torso. Its snug fit creates an illusion of a broad and strong chest that would have filled its form perfectly as a powerful gentleman would. Various stones and crystals that you have pinned at the front of the waistcoat make up to replace the fancy buttons, and they all look almost like polished jewels against the dark backdrop as the sunlight falls on top of them. 

A pair of trousers are set up to cover the lower part of the mannequin. Using a smooth fabric that looks almost like satin, the piece of clothing looks no different than what most royals or nobles would wear in the fancy parties that you had quite a few experiences attending to. The trousers seem to have added an illusion that looks captivating to your eyes; a silhouette of a pair of legs that are long and strong, with toned muscles hidden underneath and a sturdy foundation that would display class and elegance. 

A crisp dress shirt in pristine white completes the entire ensemble. The light ruffles from the collar are peeking out from beneath the jacket, creating the illusion of the figure’s long neck. A silk tie is knotted around the throat, created from your silky scarf that has a spread of tiny blue flowers on a white background which seems like the perfect match to the dress shirt and the intricate looking jacket. 

“Yes, this is all perfect. This is how he looked like in my dreams,” you muse with a contented sigh, grateful that you were able to bring the image of your prince to life only based on the memory of your lovely dream. 

“But what did you see in this dream of yours, Blossom?” you hear the wild doves chittering from the windows, no doubt asking on behalf of your other animal friends who are present here, all silently swooning over your story, “What did you and the Prince do?” 

“Oh,” you stutter as you remember the beautiful moments that you saw in your dream.

“It was so, so romantic. He was fighting this evil beast, a black dragon that was breathing out fire so hot it could burn down the entire magic forest—” you start by sharing the part of the dream that gave you a fright, drawing a collective sound of sharp gasps from everyone in the room as well as you talk about the fierce dragon who was fighting against your Prince from the top of a dark tower. 

“—and then, once he won the battle and peace was reclaimed once more, he came to catch me as I was falling from height. We locked eyes with one another and had our moment, and that was when he chose to stay longer with me, ensuring my safety instead of returning to the castle. We talked for hours, walked through the forest, and he even took me on a ride in his glowing carriage. And when evening came, once the moonlight and the bright stars came to replace the sun, he finally asked me for a dance.” 

A collective sound of dreamy sighs echo through the room, increasing the excitement you feel bubbling inside your chest. And you have yet to reach the best part of it. 

“And then? What happened next, Blossom?” the fluffy and shy badger, Brew, asks you curiously from behind the curtains, where he had been hiding while watching you have fun with his friends. 

With a happy giggle, you lean back against the cushions while keeping your eyes on your made-up Prince. “We danced, and danced, and danced all night, and right at the sound of the clock chiming at midnight, we shared one of the most magical moments ever”—you let out a long, deep sigh as you murmur softly—”with a true love’s kiss.” 

“A true love’s kiss?” everyone gasps and sighs, sharing the elated feeling that is now surging through your chest. 

“But how will you be able to have a true love’s kiss,” Poppy teases as she climbs over the right shoulder of your ‘dream prince.’ She bends and points at the empty space at the bottom of the face as she jokingly asks, “If this prince of yours doesn’t even have a pair of lips?” 

Your eyes follow Poppy’s little fingers and an astonished laugh slips out of you. “Oh, dear me! We forgot the lips!” You quickly cover your mouth before the sound of your laughter reaches outside of your bedroom, realising too late that this is still early in the day. Yet your eyes remain on the mannequin’s expressionless face. “Oh, what should we place there as his lips? Does anyone have any idea?” 

Almost immediately, your little friends begin to chirp and squeal and chitter with each of their own ideas. 

“How about some fresh flower petals?” 

“Red roses don’t bloom as much or as pretty in this time of year!” 

“Berries?” 

“How about red chilli peppers?” 

The last response makes you laugh, joined by your delighted forest friends who seem to be enjoying their time with you, just as much as they seem to be enjoying the look on your face as you are filled with happiness and joy. 

But before you can say anything to respond to their ideas, a gentle voice calls out to you from downstairs.

“________! Sweet Blossom, where are you?” the voice echoes through the small cabin, and your friends scatter to different places to take cover. Some remain, yet they choose to hide in small places, while others jump into safety right out the window. The voice continues, “I know you’re awake. I can hear you singing from all the way down here.” 

“Oh, it’s Grandmother!” With a stifled laughter, you rise to your feet and rush to move. “Quick, help me hide this.”

Grabbing a blanket, you bring it to the mannequin, hoping that you would be able to cover it in case your grandmother ever decides to walk up to your bedroom. While it may not cause you any trouble should your grandmother ever finds out what you have been up to all morning, you know that she would only worry once she sees the ‘dream prince’ standing in your bedroom. 

You don’t even want to try and imagine what your grandmother would say, or what kind of look that she would give you if she ever hears why you are using your working mannequin to create your own Prince Charming. 

“Get your head out of the clouds, dear. We have other important things to worry about and focus on. It’s not good to be dreaming too much when you’re awake.” 

That is what she would always say whenever you talk about your dreams of finding your happily ever after, or whenever you listen to your grandmother’s friends and customers about the most recent gossips and tales from the kingdom. 

“Blossom, quick!” Poppy’s voice snaps you out of it, as she and the rest of your remaining forest friends begin to pull on the other side of the blanket to help you cover the mannequin. 

Once it is perfectly hidden, you pull yourself together and turn away, only making one last glance at the now-covered ‘dream prince’ before making your way downstairs to see your grandmother before she starts calling for you again. 

“I’m coming, Nana!” 

The place that you call home is nothing more but a small wooden cabin located deep in the woods, right at the heart of the Amaranth Forest. Located quite a distance away from the Queen’s castle, your home serves as a place of solitude, away from the bright and bustling life of the kingdom.

This is where your sweet grandmother has raised you all on her own ever since you were a young child. You may have no recollection of your parents, being so young when they were gone. But everything in the cabin serves as the reminder of their existence. From the pictures that are being hanged on the walls and placed on the mantle above the fireplace, to the small trinkets that they left behind, each one holding pieces of their memories for you to remember them by. 

Growing up without them, you barely felt the weight of their absence. To every void formed by the lack of their presence in your life, your grandmother fills it with her overflowing love and beautiful memories. Being under her care allows you to live with happiness and joy, as she continued to make sure that you could live your life to the fullest. She has also taught you to remain grounded, to be able to build your own life without losing your focus or getting lost in your dreams. 

And there are also your friends from the forest, the wild animals that would often come to visit you whenever you are in need of company. They have kept you from feeling lonely, whether during the good days, but more so on your darkest days. The same way they are keeping you company right this moment, as you are trudging along the woods to finish the day’s errands which your grandmother had sent you out to do. 

“I’m making breakfast for both of us before I will have to leave to the shop downtown,” she said once you joined her in the kitchen earlier when she called for you to come downstairs, “But I need help getting some ingredients from the gardens and the groves. I would go myself, but my knees have been bothering me. Will you be a dear and fetch them for me?” 

There was no way you could have refused your grandmother’s request. Not when you saw the look on her face this morning when you first came down from your bedroom. 

The dark pockets under her eyes have been more obvious as of late, so have the lines of age marring her skin. You cannot remember seeing your grandmother so tired and weary as she did today, but she has always known to hide her exhaustion well. Even if it means having to force a smile on her face just to stop you from worrying about her as she continues with her day. 

Still, it doesn’t stop you from wondering if there is something for her to be wary about. The thought follows you as you are gathering all the ingredients needed—the wild mushrooms from the nearby woods and some fresh vegetables from the small patches of gardens that your grandmother has been tending to.

Perhaps your worries have been written so clearly on your face, because the moment you announced your leave after seeing your grandmother, your animal friends immediately insisted to come with you. And you are grateful for their company. Because despite having these worrying thoughts filling your mind, you still find yourself enjoying your time in the open with them around to entertain you.

It is also a blessing that the weather is nice this morning.  

The sun feels warm on your skin, while the canopy of trees above your head are keeping you safe from the rising heat. Small birds are flying between the trees above you while accompanying your walk with their melodic tune. You also have Poppy joining you, as she is perched comfortably on your shoulder when she isn’t jumping around to help you plucking out fresh ingredients from the ground. 

The wild bunnies and Brew the badger are also there, jumping all around you as they follow you through the woods. Even Ada is following you close, as she acts like a guide before she will be making her way to the river to continue her morning stroll. 

After quite some time has passed, and almost all of the ingredients that you needed have been gathered, your friends begin to remind you of your ‘dream prince’ once again when their constant teasing continues. 

“Now that we have everything that your Nana needed, shall we go around to look for the perfect lips to give your dream prince?” Poppy suggests as she places the last piece of the potatoes into your basket.

“Oh, my! I almost forgot!” You gasp, and immediately, all the delightful feeling you had earlier returns to you tenfold as you remember about your Prince Charming. “You’re right! Now that we’ve gotten everything, we should continue with our mission to find the Prince’s lips. We do have some time left before Nana has to go to open the shop for the day.”

After sharing a quick discussion between you and your friends, everyone decides to follow Ada to the nearby river where she always does her morning stroll. Arriving there, she leads you to the thick bushes where the wild berries always grow during the season. The luscious shade of crimson from the fresh berries looks perfect, just the shade that you were searching for, and it makes you feel even more enthusiastic about finishing your creation. 

Seeing the look on your face, Poppy rolls her eyes and makes a tutting sound. “Oh, Blossom, do you think that your dream boy truly exists?” she wonders out loud. 

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” you simply answer, feeling optimistic about it still as you carefully pluck the berries and slip them into your basket. “If he could come into my dreams, then he must be out there somewhere.” 

“Where?” Poppy teasingly asks as she dramatically begins looking around, peering through the woods to find your prince. 

Rolling your eyes back at her, you simply laugh at her antics. “He could be anywhere. He might be somewhere within these woods, getting lost between the thick trees while he is making his way to find me. Or he could be on the other side of the mountains, fighting off dragons and monsters to claim as his prize while proving himself worthy before winning my heart and sweeping me off of my feet.” 

With a sigh, Poppy shakes her head at you. “Oh, _______. I think your grandmother was right when she said that you have your head up in the clouds. Remember to get back to the ground before you fly too high.” 

You can only smile as you recall your grandmother saying the same thing; that you have always been dreaming even when you are awake, and that you always let your imagination run too far, when your mind is filled with all the wishful thinking you have about finding your happily ever after. 

You can understand why she would feel so worried about you, wondering if one day you would find it hard to face reality with how much you keep dreaming about your happiness. Even though it had been your grandmother herself who made you believe in happily ever afters in the first place. 

“Your parents had their happily ever after. That was how you came into this world, and why they are still together now. Wherever they may be,” you heard her speak one time while she was lost in thoughts, soon after she was done telling you all the tales about happy endings and finding true loves. 

It wasn’t often for your grandmother to talk about your parents. Except for the rare occasions where she would tell their stories, about how they met and fell in love, and how their happily ever after made it possible for you to be born. 

She would always wear a look of longing in her eyes whenever she talks about your parents. Although it would always be accompanied by sadness and hurt — the emotions that are constantly written so vividly in her face. It has always made you feel hesitant about bringing up your parents when you talk to her. But there is something in the way your grandmother tells what little tale she has about your parents’ love story and happily ever afters that continues to bring you hope. It makes you wish that the kind of love they had does exist, and that you may one day find it.  

Sighing to yourself, you embrace the blissful feeling that you have each time you recall parts of your dream which makes your heart flutter. The more you think about the dream, the more you refuse to believe that your dream had meant nothing at all. 

Andalasia is a land filled with magic, after all. A place where dreams come true. And you believe that the dream had been a sign telling you that your happily ever after is near. 

“I’m not going to fly off to the clouds just to find him, Poppy. Not when he might be somewhere close by,” you simply tell your friend as you finish up your hunt for the perfect lips that you are giving your made-up Prince.  

Little do you know that your words are merely moments into coming to reality. 

Because just as you are finishing up your errand, when you are ready to turn back home with your basket filled to the brim with fresh assortments, a commotion begins to rise on the other side of the woods. 

Oblivious to the possible danger that is coming towards you, you continue prancing between the trees, enjoying your time with your animal friends playing by your side. You start singing along to the song that they are singing about your dream prince, the true love’s kiss, and your happily ever after, unknowingly luring the incoming peril that is coming to find you as the sweet tune of your voice echoes through the deep forest. 

On the other side of the woods, beyond the steep hills covered in thick clusters of trees, the sound of a deep, feral roar echoes through the vast woodland.

Gone is the peaceful morning, and the entire forest wakes up to a sudden rising turmoil. 

The trees are shaking with the echoing roar while the ground is rumbling violently, sending wild animals around to scamper away to find places to hide. Some have barely made their safe escape when the dense trees are suddenly parted, and a giant troll bursts through the thickets. 

The creature’s massive foot stumbles as he rushes through. Avoiding the trees and boulders that are getting in his way seems like a struggle, yet his speed has yet to falter even when he can barely stay upright in his hasty run. It isn’t so much of the obstacles that appear on his path that are making it hard for him to run across the woods, but more because of the remnants of the broken restraint still dangling around his ankles. 

As the creature continues to scramble to find escape, a white horse appears to be racing not to far behind. The sound of its hoofs hitting the ground in rapid speed adds to the entire commotion. The steed pushes forward, giving its full strength as it runs between the trees to keep up with the troll, while the rider continues to shout his commands, pushing his steed to keep giving a chance. 

Following behind is yet another man in a horse, barely keeping up with the first rider and the relentless creature running before them. 

“Sir Noah! How did you manage to let that creature escape? He’s running even faster than before!” the first rider shouts with a firm voice.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” the man following the first rider calls out between his heaving breath. He can barely keep his composure while his darker horse seems to be struggling to maintain its speed and trying its best not to get left behind. 

“I was sure that I’ve tied the monster’s hands and feet as strong as I possibly could. I merely step aside to, ugh—” the man gets his breath knocked out of his chest as his steed leaps over a fallen tree, “To rest my old man’s back and all of a sudden, the rope on his hands snaps, and he just rose to his feet and began running.” 

The man stops shouting to catch his breath while trying his hardest to control his loyal horse. Both himself and the horse that he is riding are old and withered, not as young or as strong as the Crown Prince who is riding ahead with his massive white horse. They have all been running and working on the hunt since the break of dawn, yet the horse has yet to show any signs of exhaustion. It doesn’t seem to be losing its strength, just as the Prince’s stamina has yet to falter even when he was the one to fight the creature to its submission less than an hour ago.

“It was the voice!” The man, Sir Noah, manages to scream out once he has his breath steadied. “There was a strong breeze coming while the troll was tied down, and I swear I heard a voice coming with the wind, a voice that sounded so beautiful. Like a birdsong. Perhaps the voice enchanted the troll to gain its strength!”

“Then we must find the source of that voice to stop the troll!” the Prince shouts back, still with vigour that has yet to fade.

“But, Prince—” Sir Noah tries to shout to stop him as the Prince rides ahead, speeding faster away from him. “Prince Jungkook, wait!” 

To Sir Noah’s surprise and disgruntlement, the Prince seems to find joy in this entire predicament as he laughs and shouts to his horse to pick up speed right as the troll stops struggling in his run. “Go, Onyx! Don’t lose him!”

“No, Prince! Your Highness, you need to stop before you hurt yourself,” Sir Noah continues to shout, although his voice is slowly fading as he is beginning to lose his breath once more. 

“No, I won’t. I can do it! I know I can!” Jungkook continues to shout back, almost like he is chanting to himself with pure confidence as he leads his horse to keep its steady pace through the thickets. “I’ve had him before so I can’t give up now.” 

Sir Noah has lost track of time and distance, unaware of how far they have gone since the troll started making his escape. All he can see around him are trees, more trees, a couple of small hills to run over before the land opens up to a small meadow that fades into another part of the forest that is just as dense as where they first started this intense chase. He cannot help but blame himself for his recklessness, even more so as he watches in horror the moment the troll jumps off of a small hill to cut more distance to wherever he is heading to, with the Prince’s horse making a huge leap right after.

“No!” Sir Noah screams out, before his voice turns to a loud screech when his horse follows its younger counterpart to jump off the hill in his shadows. “Lord have mercy!” 

“This is so much fun!” Prince Jungkook shouts with a boastful laugh, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s fright. The excitement that is palpable through his voice only makes Sir Noah’s stomach drop. 

“No, this is not fun, Prince Jungkook!” Sir Noah yells out of frustration before groaning, “Oh dear, the Queen is going to have my head for this.” 

Before he can say more, the previous sound that he heard through the wind is starting to reach him again. He can tell that they are getting close to the source. Close enough for him to listen to the alluring tune that has been calling for the troll more clearly and identify it as a female voice, singing to the animals and the forest, and his fear escalates further. 

Oh yes, there is no doubt that the Queen will have my head for this, Sir Noah wonders to himself as he straightens up and clutches at the horse’s reign tightly to keep it steady. He knows that he is only going to put the Prince in danger, but Sir Noah has no other choice.  

“Your Highness! It’s the voice! The troll is after the one who is singing this melody!” he starts shouting at the Prince, who now has his eyebrows furrowed with deep focus, growing concerned with Sir Noah’s pleading words. 

“Prince Jungkook, you must hurry and stop him before he gets to the singing lady!”

“There you are, sweet little Princess. Such pretty voice. Pretty enough to eat!” 

For a moment, you cannot comprehend what is actually happening. 

One minute, you were walking between the bushes and the flower beds, admiring the wildflowers blooming under the morning sky while humming to the birdsong echoing through the woods. And then, suddenly, the lovely birdsong stopped, the forest fell quiet, and your animal friends became so agitated that their cheerful chirps and giggles faded to whispers. 

The next thing you knew, your peaceful moment with your friends was broken when the ground you were standing on began to quake, the trees up the hill began to shake furiously before they parted, and a giant troll burst through the thickets. He spoke with broken dialect and a menacing tone of voice, followed by an eerie roar coming out of his mouth as he started barrelling his way towards you. 

At first, there is nothing that you can do except to remain frozen. You are too stunned to move, unable to react as you watch this monster running straight towards you. It is also baffling to see that the creature is doing it while screaming and looking so happy about eating you. 

“_______! Snap out of it!!” Poppy suddenly screams, snapping you out of your daze. “We need to run. Now!” 

With a gasp, you hike up your skirt and quickly turn away. “Run, everyone!” you shout at your friends who immediately scatter to find their escape, while you struggle to run the opposite way to confuse the creature. 

Although it doesn’t seem like your effort is needed, because the troll seems to have set his eyes on you and you alone, as none of your fleeing companions catches his eyes and he is still running to get you. “Why is it chasing me?”

“I don’t know, but keep running!” Poppy continues to scream, still perched on your shoulder with her claws sinking into the fabric of your dress as she holds on tightly. 

Normally, you consider yourself quite a runner. There have been times when you would run in the woods, racing against Ada or the wild hares that would often hang out by the lake just for fun. Sometimes you would run with the fairies, even if only to see if you could outrun those who have magic on their side to give them speed. 

Yet for some reason, running seems like a struggle as you try to escape the giant troll that seems so engaged in the thought of grabbing you with its filthy hands. You feel as if there is some weight slowing you down, forgetting the fact that you have a basket filled with assortments hanging in one arm while your long skirt is dragging you back. 

“The basket! Leave it!” Poppy yells at you once she realises that you are struggling and notices the reason why. 

“But it’s for Nana!”

Poppy growls—actually growls—in response. “There’s not even going to be any part of you left to bring them home to Nana if you get freaking eaten by that—that thing!” 

As you take a quick glance over your shoulder, seeing how close the giant beast is getting to you, you realise that Poppy is right. At the corner of your eyes, you see the cluster of narrow trees leading up the hill and aim for it to find your escape, hoping that you can shake him off on a rising terrain. 

It’s going to be a struggle running up the hill, yet your gut feeling tells you that it’s worth the effort. So you make a run for it, clutching the basket tightly to your chest to keep it safe until you can find a place to hide it. 

As you slip between the narrow opening between the trees, you can hear the troll having a hard time following your trail without breaking and getting stumbled by them. You keep running, getting out of breath as you reach the top of the hill, and soon the cluster of trees opens up and grass gives way beneath your feet. 

“We’re running out of trees!” Poppy screams, getting a good grasp of what you have been planning to do. 

“No, we’re not! We’re almost there!” you yell back at her with gasping breath, and with your eyes set on your destination.

Right there. 

Right before your eyes, there stand the twin old elm trees that have grown nearly doubled the height of the hill, with massive branches spreading out to look like two giant canopies of leaves covering the top of the hill. Situated right between them is a massive boulder, firmly standing like the crown of the hill and you have decided — sometime between the hysteria of seeing a troll in this part of the forest and the terror of knowing that he is hunting you — that this place would serve you perfectly in your escape. 

Because that boulder marks the end of the hill, and there is nothing else but a massive drop of cliff with rocky walls and the rough stream waiting below. 

“Hold on, Poppy!” 

Your warning is barely enough to get your friend to tighten her grip on your shoulder when you hop over the boulder, using it to dodge the troll’s hand as he tries to swipe you off the ground. Tossing the basket to the side of the boulder with the hope of keeping it safe until later, you plant your hand on the rock’s surface and swivel around, using it as leverage to switch your direction right before reaching the very edge of the precipice and evade the troll as you roll to the left. 

“Aahhh, Blossom!” 

“Stop running and let Troll catch you!” the troll roars as he fails to grab you, and his voice grows louder, shifting into a pained roar the moment he loses his balance and trips over the boulder. 

Seeing this, a victorious squeal almost escapes your lips. But before you even get the chance to celebrate the success of your escape scheme, you notice too late that your ploy isn’t going as planned. 

“Oh, bollocks!” you cry out when you realise that the troll has fallen a bit too soon. 

Instead of being thrown off the ledge as you had expected he would after tripping over the boulder, the troll is sprawled on top of the rock, with one hand holding on the edge to stop him from falling over. And the troll—although fallen over and is struggling to push himself up—is still determined to grab you. 

Adding salt to your wounded pride, you seem to have also failed to measure the beast’s size. Even sprawled at an odd angle, the troll’s limbs are still long enough to reach you. Sliding back on the slippery rock, you try to put some distance between you, just in time for his massive hand to swipe over the rock, missing the hem of your dress merely inches away. 

In desperate need of escape, Poppy jumps off your shoulder just as you are getting off-balance and nearly falling over the ledge instead. You watch breathlessly as Poppy starts climbing up the tree rapidly in her panic while you feel like you cannot move. 

“Come on, ________!” 

Once again, her voice snaps you out of it, and you begin to follow suit, seeing that there is no escape now with the troll blocking your way back down the hill and the long drop down the cliff walls waiting for you on the other side. Right as you start climbing up the trees, you sense the troll struggling to rise beneath you. Climbing up takes quite an effort when you are in your summer dress, but all the shenanigans you got yourself into growing up may have taught you enough how to climb up quickly. 

From the corner of your eyes, you see the troll rising back up to his feet. Wobbling and swaying around as he tries to find balance over the rocky slip beneath him. But you barely pay attention to the beast when something else is grabbing your attention from not so far away. 

You can hear the sound of hoofs rapidly racing through the trees. You have been hearing this noise for quite some time already, you realise, coming from a distance while you were focused on trying to escape the troll. Maybe it even started at the same time the troll first appeared from that other hill, chasing the beast the best it could even though failing to catch up on time before the troll reached you. 

And now, you can hear it getting closer. And closer. 

You can almost see it, the white horse that is running through the cluster of trees to get to you. Yet your curiosity to know where this stranger is coming from and who might be riding the white horse becomes a distraction, causing you to make another mistake. 

You start to climb over the nearest long branch that looks strong enough to withstand your weight, hoping that it can keep you away from the troll’s reach. Yet you cannot help but keep throwing quick glances over the line of trees, hoping to see this stranger who is racing towards the foray instead of running away from it. 

That is how you miss your footing. 

Within a blink of an eye, instead of perching securely on the branch, you find yourself dangling desperately onto it, your hands barely making it in time to find a firm hold to stop you from falling over. 

“Aaahhh!!” 

“Blossom!” Poppy calls out in panic at the sound of your scream, and she quickly races back down, grabbing onto your wrist as she tries to pull you up. Only that the poor squirrel’s effort seems futile when gravity keeps pulling you down instead of giving in. “Girl, I don’t have enough muscles for this! Pull yourself up!” 

“I’m trying!”

While you and Poppy are panicking and struggling to get you back up on the tree, the troll starts balancing himself on the boulder while humming, “Come here, pretty girl. Come to Troll’s hands!” 

You open your mouth to shout back at the offensive troll with disgust, only to have another voice shouting before you can get your voice out. 

“No! Keep your hands off of her!” 

All heads snap to look at the white horse coming out of the woods. The steed races with full force up the rising terrain. But it is the rider that manages to catch your eyes the most. His eyes look fierce with determination but also a hint of thrill as he focuses on the troll. 

As if he is having so much fun with this hunt and is eager to finish it. 

And he looks captivating as he is doing it. Even more so when he pulls out his sword, wielding it to challenge the beast that barely takes notice, as he is busy trying to grab your ankles. 

But you take notice of him. You also notice the way your heart is racing rapidly for a different reason. 

Unable to process what—or, in this case, who—you are seeing, Poppy speaks first, ”And who in the Fates’ name is that?” 

“That’s—” 

There is no way.  

Your words fail you in your shock and relief. Pure disbelief runs through you, and you almost feel your grip loosening with how astonished you are at what you are witnessing. 

Because there is no possible way for the Prince Charming himself to come and save you. Just like he did in your dream. 

“Hang on! Stay where you are!”

The thrill that Jungkook has been feeling while he was racing across the hills to chase the damn troll is slowly shifting into fright once he gets a clear sight of what is happening. He watches with wide eyes as you desperately dangle from the tree branch, your legs swinging to avoid the troll’s grasp and your hands barely strong enough to hold on. 

He noticed that you stopped trying to pull yourself up for a brief moment, distracted by his arrival. Yet his shout snaps you back to focus, and he is relieved to see you pulling up, trying your best to climb back onto the branch with the help of a—a squirrel? 

Now that he believes that you are going to be safe—even if only for a while—Jungkook focuses on the troll again. This time, he is ready to swing his sword, which reflects the sunlight as Jungkook raises his arm over his head. The strong shine is blinding, and Jungkook uses it to distract the troll and pull his attention away from you. 

“Over here, you damn troll!” he shouts with a wicked laugh that will definitely give Sir Noah another headache. 

With a feral roar, the troll turns to face Jungkook. “You again. Troll don’t want to go with you. Troll want little girl for snacks.” 

A sharp, panicked scream escapes you while Jungkook marches forward with his sword swinging. The troll fights back, bending forward with his arms swinging left and right, back and forth, between trying to grab Jungkook and stopping the sword from reaching his chest—right where he would easily be wounded. 

Yet Jungkook easily evades each swipe of hands, his white horse following his command to escape and slip away while bringing him closer. 

Except while Jungkook manages to avoid the troll’s attacks, you aren’t having as much luck. Because with each swipe of the troll’s hands and each stomp of his feet, the troll causes the tree where you are dangling on to shake and sway along with the force of his movements. And it is making it harder for you to hold on, much less to climb back on top. 

Jungkook waits until the troll is fully facing him before initiating his final attack, making haste about it before you lose your grip and fall over. With a grunt, Jungkook swings his arm back and flings the sword forward, aiming for the troll’s left chest. The sword floats in the air for a brief moment before it strikes its target perfectly. 

The troll roars in pain. His hands reach up to grab the sword—which has lodged deeply into his chest—and he staggers back, losing his balance before he falls over the ledge and starts plummeting down the cliff. 

Unfortunately, the troll refuses to fall alone. Right before his fall, he reaches out, trying to grab onto the elm tree where you are hanging from as if to stop his fall. Yet his grip never takes hold. Only his sharp nails manage to scratch the tree trunk, shaking the giant tree. 

Shaking you, until you finally lose your grip. 

A scream erupts through your lips as you start falling from height. 

You close your eyes shut during your fall, fearing the long drop and the pain that may come after. Except the pain never comes. Instead, you fall right into something that is soft and hard at the same time. 

Warmth engulfs you right away, even before a pair of arms wrap themselves around you. Whatever surface that you have just landed on is beginning to move, rocking back and forth as if it is trying to balance itself under your weight. 

You are not too sure yet if you are safe, so you keep your eyes closed shut. It doesn’t matter if you just witnessed the troll falling off the cliff, you can almost feel the shadow of his presence. As if you still have to avoid his relentless attacks. 

But then a soft voice reassuringly speaks to you, coaxing you to open your eyes, “It’s okay, Princess. I got you.” 

Slowly, your eyes flutter open. And the first thing that you see once your gaze clears out brings those flutters down to your chest. 

A pair of dark-coloured eyes that remind you of the night sky are looking back at you, glowing as if there are a million stars in them. He has a pretty face framed with strands of soft hair that have fallen in a flurry mess, perhaps from racing through the woods on his horse to get to you. 

And that pretty face seems to grow even brighter when the man, your hero, smiles at you. 

It won’t be until later for you to realise that the steady rocking you felt earlier had been the white horse’s movements, as it was struggling to adjust to your weight, while its rider struggled a little to adjust your position on his lap and control his horse until it calmed down. Yet none of it matters now. Not when you are completely entranced with his presence. 

All because it feels like you have just witnessed your creation—the dream prince statue that you worked hard on this morning—coming to life right before your eyes. 

“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” The words slip out of your lips before you can stop yourself. 

Your voice comes out as nothing more but a whisper, but there is no doubt that he can hear you perfectly. You can see it from the way his smile is growing wider. 

As if it pleases him to see you so stunned, while he takes pride in this moment when he says,

“It’s me. Your Prince Charming.” 

He winks, and your skin flushes with warmth. “I’m Prince Jungkook. But you can call me Jungkook.” 

An incredulous laugh begins to bubble its way up your throat, yet not a sound comes out of your lips as you look at him, stunned, as you are still feeling as if you are caught in a daze which leaves you speechless. It was mere moments ago when you had almost gotten trampled down and then eaten by a giant troll after all, and then he came out of nowhere, rescuing you from said troll right before you ended up getting flattened into the forest’s grounds or deep into his stomach. 

And then you suddenly found yourself falling into your hero’s lap — quite literally. And that hero turns out to be Prince Charming himself, who seems to have pride as massive as the entire kingdom of Andalasia as he speaks about himself while smiling broadly at you. 

It is quite a lot to take in, and you have no idea what to say or how to react. The only thing that you can do is to sit there, perched sideways above his massive horse with his arms holding you to him and keeping you from falling, while your gaze remains locked on the deep eyes that were similar to the ones you vaguely saw in your dreams. 

Unaware of the reason why you are stunned to silence, the Prince, Jungkook, may have misread your loss for words as fear. Because he suddenly begins rubbing your back while speaking gently to you, “It’s okay. You are safe now.”  

“Yes, thank you,” you mutedly whisper, before you finally snap out of it and realise — he did just save your life! “Oh, that’s right! You saved my life.” 

“I guess I did.” There is a hint of relief in the sound of his soft chuckle, making you wonder if he was deeply concerned with you because of your silence. “Do you live anywhere near these woods? Will you be able to return home?” 

Blinking your eyes, you turn and look around to notice how far you have gone. It’s not like you had paid much attention to where you were heading while running away from danger. 

Yet you are quite familiar with this place, recognising the twin elm trees on the top of the hill which have always been visible when you look out the windows of your bedchamber. Except the distance has always made them seem smaller than their actual size, now that you are looking at it from a closer angle. 

You are surprised to realise that you have deviated quite far from your original route, and most obviously, away from home. So surprised that you have no idea what to say to the Prince. 

He asks you again, sounding more concerned this time, even if his smile has yet to fade. “Where do you live? How about I give you a ride home?” 

Before you can answer him, a sharp gasp breaks the moment between you. Followed with a rushed, panicked voice, saying, “N-no, Your Highness. Forgive me, but you should really go back to the castle. I’m sure the lady is going to be fine without—” 

“Forgive me, Sir Noah. But I won’t be much of a gentleman if I don’t take the lady home right away and let her run home on her own after facing such peril,” the Prince says, cutting the other gentleman off before he can say more, without even looking away from you.

You, on the other hand, are shocked that you have failed to notice that there is someone else who has been there with the Prince. Too captivated with your hero’s arrival to realise it. Now, however, as you look over the Prince’s shoulder, you see an older—much older, looking at his partly greying hair and his deep scowl—gentleman on a darker and slightly older horse slowly coming up to the Prince. 

“Go back to the castle and collect some men to retrieve the troll,” the Prince continues as he pulls on the rein, ready to command his horse to start moving again. He only looks briefly over his shoulder to greet his companion with a smirk, “I’ll see you back at the castle.” 

“But wait, my Prince! Your Highness!” the gentleman shouts, yet the Prince has already ordered his horse to set off to leave this place. But not before he expertly guides the horse to leap across the boulder, giving him a chance to snatch the basket full of goods which you tossed away earlier and allowing Poppy to jump onto your lap. 

“Is everyone ready?” he asks, eyeing you as you hold your basket and Poppy securely in your arms. Without waiting for your answer, he nods and shouts an order. The horse takes off, heading downhill at a rapid pace as if it hadn’t been racing across the forest and working hard to help its master defeat the troll. 

The other gentleman, Sir Noah, tries and fails to catch up as the horse begins galloping through the thick woods. The gentleman’s voice quickly fades in the distance as he calls out to Prince Charming desperately to make him come back, “Prince Jungkook! You must not do this!” 

After reaching halfway across the forest, Prince Jungkook orders his horse to slow down, and the journey continues leisurely. It seems like he is giving his dear horse a chance to take it easy while he takes a moment to enjoy this moment of calmness. 

“This is a beautiful forest,” he muses as he looks around. You cannot help but straighten up proudly at his comment. Because you cannot help but agree with him. 

Here, away from the scene of chaos, everything feels right again. The breeze feels calming after the entire ordeal. The sound of rustling leaves above you becomes music to your ears, even though it doesn’t do much to drown the rapid sound of your heartbeat. Even the birdsong has returned. The rustling sounds in the bushes let you know that the little critters have gone out of their hiding places. 

As if peace has been restored, and the upsetting event which disrupted the entire forest has been erased from existence. 

But while the Prince is comfortably taking everything in, you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

Feeling your gaze, Prince Jungkook suddenly looks at you. His deep, amused gaze feels so overwhelming that your face immediately starts to flush warmly. You look away when it becomes too much. 

“The other gentleman from before,” you ask with a small voice, “Is it really all right to leave him behind and send him away? He seemed—concerned.” 

Jungkook laughs. There is something wicked and naughty in the way he is smiling when you look at him again. “There is no need to worry about Sir Noah. He gets concerned of almost about everything. Mostly about me, though.” 

“Ah, I see.” 

Falling into a brief pause, you feel the tension slowly being chipped away. You realise only now that Jungkook has been using the hand that is not holding the horse’s rein to hold your waist, keeping you safe against his chest.

“So, um—Prince Jungkook?” you speak again to break the tension between you, “What were you doing in the forest this early in the day?” 

Jungkook’s eyebrows form a deep crease at your question. “The castle received news about a troll that has been going on a rampage—ruining farmers’ properties, stealing crops and livestock from those poor farmers, and threatening to loot nearby villages. Sir Noah and I left the castle before dawn to catch the troll before it could reach another village.” 

He stops with a grimace before looking at your face again. “Perhaps I should apologise. If only I had done a better job at capturing the troll and stopping it from escaping us, you wouldn’t have found yourself in such peril.” 

You wave your hand at him. “Oh, that’s all right. You saved my life, so all is forgiven.” 

The crease between his eyebrows eases when he smiles. “You said you saw me in your dreams?” 

Your eyes grow wide when you recall the way you had blurted out about your silly dream when you had just met him. “Yes, yes I did!” you nervously admit to him, before adding with a whisper, “I—think?” 

Jungkook’s grin widens as he admits, “I may have seen you in mine too, Princess.” 

“Oh, I’m not a princess. I’m just _______,” you say to him with a nervous chuckle, “Although my friends and my grandmother often call me Blossom.” 

“Blossom. Interesting nickname,” he muses, “My mother used to call me ‘her silly little rabbit,’ although I’m not quite sure what that means.” His eyebrows crease again as he thinks deeply about it, making you realise that he looks—adorable, when he isn’t focused on defeating beasts and having fun racing with his horse. 

Yet your admiration fades when you come to a jolt, realising what he meant. “Your mother? The—the Queen?” you ask him and he nods. You have many questions running through your head right now, yet you simply ask him the one thing that seems to have gotten stuck in your mind, “What did you mean that you may have seen me too?” 

With a grin, Jungkook answers you excitedly, “I might have. I don’t always remember my dreams, but I’m sure that I’ve seen you in it.” He seems sure of himself that you don’t feel any need to question it. Any doubt that you may feel disappears anyway when he is looking at you with those eyes of his, and with a smile that makes your heartbeat jump and gallop. Just like his white horse earlier, especially when you hear him say, “That’s why I know that our meeting must have been fated, don’t you agree?” 

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Is that so?” 

“I know so,” he confidently says as he pulls you even closer to his chest. “Our dreams have shown us that we are meant to be. That’s why, I think we should get married.” 

You let out a surprised gasp. “M-married?” The sound of your laughter erupts through the woods, drowning the sound of Poppy’s surprised screech. 

“Yes, absolutely. We can get married tomorrow.” 

The flutters that have been growing in your chest start to go wild. “To-tomorrow?!”

“Yes, isn’t that how the story goes?” he says with a wide smile on his face, reminding you of the smile that you wore all morning when you were talking about your dream prince. It seems as if you are still dreaming now, or that you have been brought back to your dream from last night when he recounts what had just transpired, making you think back about your dream. “I saved you from the evil monster who tried to harm you, swept you off your feet, and then we’ll marry in the castle, and then we’ll share our true love’s kiss—” 

Your eyes grow wide. “A true love’s kiss,” you murmur to yourself, to which Poppy turns to look at you with an expression of shock and bewilder. Yet you pay no mind to her, when you are in too much in awe, unable to believe that this is real.  

“—and we’ll live happily ever after,” the Prince continues with a beaming smile. “Isn’t that right? So why wait? What do you say?” 

You can hear your grandmother’s voice in your head, reminding you not to get lost in your dreams and to always think rationally. You can also feel Poppy’s panicked little grip on your dress and the sound of her stuttering, asking you to pay attention to her. 

But every part of your dreams—both from the one you have harboured since you were a young girl and the one you had last night—comes to drown everything to the background. This is it, you wonder to yourself, this is my dream coming true!

With an incredulous laugh slipping out of your lips, you wrap your arms around his neck and say, “Yes, let’s get married. Tomorrow.” 

Prince Jungkook joins you in laughter, neither of you noticing the way Poppy is now shaking her head rapidly in disbelief when he says, “Then I shall send the news to the castle and we will have our magical wedding by noon tomorrow.”

“Yes!” you excitedly say with a cheer, “Oh, I can’t wait.”  

Your chest is filled with joy and a flutter of nerves that it almost feels like you are about to burst. Things are happening so quickly, so suddenly, so soon. You had woken up this morning with joy and hope that came from the dream you had about your prince, believing that it was a sign from the universe. You never expected to have your dream coming into reality when the day has yet to reach past noon. 

But here you are now, looking deep into your prince’s eyes as he is taking you home for the last time, merely a step away from your happily ever after. 

Once Prince Jungkook has succeeded in bringing you safely back home to your anxious grandmother, he immediately races back to the home castle. He wastes no time making his way to the Queen’s sitting room, where he knows he will be able to find his mother enjoying her afternoon downtime. 

“Queen Mother, I have news!” Prince Jungkook calls out as he marches into the den with a wide smile on his face. There is an air of joy and pleasure following him as he comes to greet his mother. 

Queen Rosalyne was in the middle of arranging a flower bouquet when Jungkook rushed in. His excitement bounces against the walls, making her smile as she raises her head to look at her son. “News? What is it now, my Prince?” 

Jungkook is nearly breathless when he stands before the Queen, announcing proudly. “I have good news! I know you’ll be happy.” 

Holding back her soft laughter, the Queen sits back down and urges Jungkook to continue, “Fine. Tell me.” 

“I have found my true love. The one I’ll be sharing my true love’s kiss with,” Jungkook declares proudly with his arms spread wide.  

“Is that so?” Queen Rosalyne asks with her eyebrows raised. Soft laughter escapes her, while Jungkook has to hold back his own laughter when he notices that the Queen is saying the same thing as you did when he brought up the idea earlier. 

“Who is she? From which kingdom did she come?” 

Jungkook is so overwhelmed with bubbling excitement that his entire body is almost shaking. “Her name is ________, and she is from here, Andalasia.” 

“Really?” the Queen asks, though she sounds quite doubtful about it. “And where did you meet this girl?” 

“It’s actually an interesting story,” Jungkook says before he launches into a story time and shares with his mother everything that has happened since he left the castle this morning.

Starting from the reports about the troll and how he decided to depart at dawn to capture it, how he managed to defeat the troll the first time, only for Sir Noah to accidentally let the creature escape. Then Jungkook starts pacing back and forth as he enthusiastically describes how he raced through the forest to catch up with the troll, while the beast was focused on capturing you, and how he had saved you from the creature. 

“It was love at first sight, Queen Mother. Just like the kind that people talk and sing about in their songs. The kind that is celebrated in written stories,” Jungkook concludes his story as he turns to his mother. “It was fate’s work of bringing us together, so it would be right for me to take her hand in marriage, share with her the true love’s kiss, so our love can spread magic all over our mighty kingdom.” 

Silence falls between them. Jungkook feels nervous when the Queen barely shows any reaction. 

“Mother?” he asks, slowly taking the seat next to the Queen. “Did you hear what I just said?” 

“Yes, I hear you. I’m not quite sure that I heard you perfectly.” The Queen looks at Jungkook with a deep gaze, her brows furrowing when she asks him, “Did you say you wanted to—marry this girl?” 

“I did. It would only make sense. That way we can celebrate with everyone else as we share our true love’s kiss.” 

Queen Rosalyne purses her lips. She dislikes any talk about the ‘true love’s kiss,’ and she finds that she doesn’t enjoy it the most when she has to hear it coming from her own son. Yet seeing how excited the thought seems to be making him, as the Prince’s eyes are shining so brightly as he speaks about his possible marriage, and his smile grows wide, genuine, and free—something that the Queen hasn’t been able to see for a long, long time—she finds no reason to deny his wish. 

It seems so wrong to deny him happiness. If any, the Queen feels relieved that she finally gets to send him off into the world and give him a reason to stop chasing beasts and monsters throughout the kingdom. 

“Fine,” Queen Rosalyne says with a light scoff, “Have it your way. But you must deal with it all on your own. Have Sir Noah help you prepare for the feast if you wish to do this entire thing tomorrow.” 

Prince Jungkook is so elated to gain the Queen’s approval that he is practically bouncing on his feet. The Queen holds back a smile, wondering to herself, my silly little rabbit. 

She recalls how frustrated Jungkook made her when he was a child, unable to hold back his energy as he kept hopping and running all over the castle. The Queen had sniffed when she was too exhausted to catch up to him and called him out, “Stop playing like a wild rabbit and calm down,” and the nickname stuck with him—and she has used it to call him with it more endearingly—once he started growing up. 

Lost in her thoughts, the Queen is caught by surprise when Jungkook bows before her and takes her hand to kiss the back of it. “Thank you, Mother. Your Majesty. You are truly a great and wise mother. I could never repay you.” 

Queen Rosalyne is too stunned to speak. She isn’t one to get affected by emotions too easily, but Jungkook’s words seem to have stirred something inside her heart that has grown cold and frozen after so long. She says nothing as Jungkook turns to leave the chamber, leaving her with her running thoughts and the unsettling feeling that has been growing so intensely in her chest since the moment Jungkook mentioned your name. 

At the center of Queen Rosalyne’s sitting chamber, there is a small indoor garden with a small water fountain which is made of black stone. Surrounded by well-trimmed hedges of black blooming roses, patches of green grass and white cobblestones covering the ground, the water fountain becomes the center point of the space which represents serenity and solitude. 

Yet this is also the place where the Queen often practices her magic, using the secret spells that she keeps mostly to herself. She does this only when she is all alone, whether to watch over her kingdom and cast spells to protect the land, or for reasons that have nothing to do with the well-being of her people. 

By the time evening comes, the Queen often uses her spells to fulfil her secret desires. Something that she is planning to do to ease the uneasiness which has been plaguing her ever since the conversation she shared with Jungkook. 

As the day slowly shifts into dusk, and the Queen is quite sure that Jungkook has been gone long enough to be deep in arranging things for tomorrow, Queen Rosalyne summons Sir Noah into her chamber. 

“The Prince has found a maiden to marry,” Sir Noah announces upon his arrival, meeting the Queen directly in the secret garden which he has frequently visited before. 

“Yes, he had come to me this afternoon to announce his intention to marry a girl,” the Queen says, in a most calm, yet dubious tone of voice. “I’m going to assume that you have met this—girl, since I know that you were the one to join the Prince in his excursion today.” 

Swallowing hard to ease his nerves, Sir Noah nods. “I was with the Prince when the maiden, uh—fell into Prince Jungkook’s arms.” 

This has the Queen’s attention. Turning away from the black blooming roses that she has been tending to, Queen Rosalyne regards Sir Noah with her eyebrows raised. “How—romantic,” she murmurs, “And where did this chance encounter happen?” 

Sir Noah clears his throat before answering, “The Amaranth Forest, Your Majesty. It was where Prince Jungkook and I ended up after hunting the giant troll that has been terrorising the people in Sunny Brook Hills.” 

All of a sudden, the Queen’s shoulders grow tense. “Amaranth, you say?” 

The cold tone of the Queen’s voice and the expression she wears on her face draws chill running down Sir Noah’s spine. He has been working in the castle with the Queen for a long, long time. Long enough to know that she is not happy to hear the information that he just gave her.

After processing this, Queen Rosalyne rises to her feet and turns, making her way to the magic water fountain. The Queen merely stands before the fountain when the thing reacts to her presence. Immediately, the air grows cold and heavy, and it becomes even more intense as Queen Rosalyne raises both of her arms over the water fountain. 

The surface of the water ripples as a dark green light emerges from her hands, shining brightly while the Queen enchants her spell. The green light descends into the water, blending with the ripples as the mana shines in dark green. 

The Queen steps aside and gestures at Sir Noah to come closer. “Show me.”

Gulping nervously, Sir Noah comes to the Queen's side and slowly folds the cuff of his sleeve. Offering his hand, the Queen raises her sharp nails and slits the skin of his palm, causing a small wound which is enough to let a few drops of blood taint the water inside the fountain. Once the blood blends into the water, the surface ripples intensely until the green light within starts to stretch out, and images begin to appear on the water, framed by the green mana sparkling under the calm ripples. 

The Queen bends over the fountain as she is shown the series of events that happened within the depths of the Amaranth Forest this morning. Everything seems to unravel just the way Jungkook relayed it to the Queen. 

The giant troll in his escape. The Prince’s relentless chase. And the maiden who was running from the wicked troll before she finally fell into the Prince’s arms. 

The scene in the water changes when the Queen swaps her palm over the surface, turning back time to see your daily life in the small cabin with your grandmother. She can see you singing with your forest friends, and then cooking and laughing with your grandmother. 

Seeing your grandmother, the Queen’s jaw clenches with recognition.

Too nervous to remain silent, as he is unable to read the Queen’s hard expression and lack of words, Sir Noah begins to explain the events that happened this morning, “The troll was lured into the forest by the maiden’s voice, who was singing to the forest’s creatures. And right after the Prince was able to apprehend the troll, he captured her as she—” 

“How uncanny,” Queen Rosalyne murmurs almost to herself, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s rapid blabbering. 

“Y-your Majesty?” 

Straightening up to her full height, the Queen moves her hand over the water to enlarge the image that she is now seeing on the surface of the water. With a glance, Sir Noah can see a close-up of your face as you are riding on the horse with Prince Jungkook, before the image switches back to you working in the gardens with your grandmother. 

“She looks just like her. Exactly like her,” Queen Rosalyne continues to murmur gently, astonished by the sight of you—a commoner girl from the magic forest that even Sir Noah has never met before. 

“The maiden? Who are you referring to that would look like her, Your Majesty?” 

The Queen gives him no answer, and instead waves her palm over the water until the image dissolves, leaving nothing more but the calm, clear water. 

“When will this wedding take place? Has it been decided yet?” 

Sir Noah wrings his hands together with nerves. The tension has risen exponentially within the chamber. The change in the Queen’s attitude makes him wary, and he has no idea what is happening. 

“Prince Jungkook insisted on having it soon. As—as soon as tomorrow, Your Majesty. The entire castle is already in the height of the preparation for the ceremony.” 

The Queen holds back the urge to curse as she turns away, enraged, and she wipes her gardening tools off her work table. The noise and clutters and the flying objects cause Sir Noah to flinch. He has no idea what is currently going on inside the Queen’s mind and chooses to remain silent rather than risk having her unleash her rage on him.

He has witnessed what happened to those who aren’t careful with their words, especially when the Queen is losing her patience like this.

“Call it off,” the Queen suddenly speaks. Her voice has calmed down, yet there is an eerie chill in her tone which makes Sir Noah shudder in fear. 

“My-my Queen? What do you mean?” 

Queen Rosalyne turns to face him and snaps. “I’m talking about the wedding, you fool! Call it off!” 

“But-but Your Majesty, you have given your approval to the wedding,” Sir Noah struggles to speak, “The preparation is already underway. Everything is almost ready, even the Prince has gathered enough—” 

The Queen releases a frustrated snarl. Her energy erupts, and a few potted plants within the garden explode under the power of her rage. 

Deep down, the Queen didn’t think that it would be possible for Jungkook to make things happen within less than a day. The boy has always been hasty, and she has secretly hoped that he would stumble upon obstacles and give up on the idea of having a wedding so suddenly and have it postponed either way. But now—

Now it’s too late. 

When the Queen first gave Jungkook her approval to marry you, she never thought that you would be someone who would be related to her past. She should have been more careful and made sure to find out more about your identity first before she said anything. She had a feeling that something was amiss, and now she is regretting that she hadn’t been listening to her gut. 

How? How could this be?

Holding her head in her hands, the Queen chastises herself for being so reckless. Memories of her past come back to haunt her. Guilt, remorse, and hatred, all mix into one. And in her mind, everything blends together to form the shape of your face. 

The face that she wishes so desperately to forget. 

“Fine. Then I shall do it myself,” the Queen finally says with an eerie calmness in her voice. 

“My Queen? What—what do you mean?” 

Queen Rosalyne looks at her loyal aide once more and raises her chin. “I’ll make sure the wedding never happens. My son can marry, as long as it’s not with her,” she says as she slowly walks closer to Sir Noah, who can only stare at her with his eyes widening in fear. 

“And you are going to help me make it happen, wouldn’t you?” the Queen whispers to him as she gently places the tip of her finger on Sir Noah’s chin, forcing him to only look at her eyes, unable to move or look away. 

Gulping hard, Sir Noah quickly nods his head and faintly whispers, “Yes, my Queen.” 

The steady rocking of the carriage taking you to the castle should have been able to soothe your anxiety. Maybe lull you to sleep, even. 

Yet you have been too anxious that your eyes remain wide. Your hands continue to fidget on your lap and trace along your wedding dress. Not that you have no faith in yourself about the dress. But focusing on making sure that you haven’t missed a seam feels better than looking out the window and focusing on how close you are getting to your destination. 

Soon enough—much sooner than expected—the carriage stops with a jolt. The rough sound of cobblestones cracking under the wheels snaps you back to focus, forcing you to raise your head just as a royal guard opens the door for you.

“Welcome to Castle Andalasia.” 

Clutching the skirt of your wedding dress, you slowly step out of the carriage. Yet you fail to take notice of how tense your body has gotten. Your muscles have grown so stiff that your steps become clumsy, causing you to lose your footing. 

“Oh, my!” 

Barely catching yourself from falling, a nervous giggle escapes you as you straighten yourself up before anyone can step up to help. “I’m fine, so sorry.” 

The royal guard steps away, leaving you alone with your little friends who have decided to keep you company, all jumping out of the carriage to surround you. 

Standing at the castle's threshold, just a few steps away from entering through the main gate, you feel as if you are walking into a dream. There is a giddy feeling rushing through your body that is hard to shake. The urge to pinch yourself is also strong, yet there is nothing that you can do but clutch your skirt tighter until you feel pain in your palms to know that this is real. 

That you are now standing right in front of the castle. 

The castle.

The place where Queen Rosalyne resides with Prince Charming and her loyal aides. And you are not here simply to come for a formal visit like other common people would do to seek an audience with the Queen to confide about their problems. You are here today for the wedding. 

And it will be your wedding. 

It still hasn’t truly sunk in yet that you are to be married to Prince Charming. To marry Prince Jungkook, who is loved by everyone in Andalasia for his heroic actions in defeating all the beasts and monsters posing threats to the kingdom. 

Before proceeding further, you take a moment to turn around, taking one final look at yourself through the reflection you see on the glass window of your carriage. 

Pride blooms within as you look at your wedding dress. The dress is immaculate, handcrafted by your own talented hands since the moment your wedding date was made official and your loving grandmother gave her blessings. Despite her misgivings on your upcoming wedding day, your grandmother stayed up with you, assisting you as you spent all night creating this dress. 

Looking at yourself, you must admit that this dress is your true masterpiece.

The bodice of the dress is made of delicate lacework that hugs your figure perfectly while hiding your flaws. The floral patterns on the bodice represent the beauty of the forest and your lovely garden back home perfectly, intertwining and cascading down your form like fresh vines with wildflowers blooming at every tip. 

The lace, meticulously stitched by your own hands, is filled with every drop of hope and love that you harbour for the happily ever after that you have dreamed about for as long as you can remember. 

From your shoulders, down to your arms, a similar ensemble of delicate lacework covers your skin in a comforting fit, adding modesty and elegance to your dress which seems presentable for your special day at the castle.  

From the waist, the fabric flows down like a river of light, billowing into a skirt that trails down to your ankles, rippling in subtle waves with each step that you take. Layers of soft, finely crafted tulle form the skirt to create an illusion of a cloud, making it seem as if you are floating as you slowly turn and twirl to see yourself in every angle. 

Around your shoulders, a veil made of the finest gossamer falls in a delicate cascade down to your back, instead of acting like a cover to shield your face from view. You have the veil fastened to your hair, which is styled in a fancy yet simple twisted bun. Tiny pearls and crystals in different sizes and shapes are woven into the fabric of the veil, and they sparkle like dewdrops under the soft glow of the bright sunlight. 

Growing even more tense with nerves, your hands continue to clench and unclench around your dress, feeling lost with nothing else to hold on to. You wish that your grandmother had been fit enough to be here so you could hold her hand for support, yet you force that thought away, knowing that she hasn’t been well enough to travel far from home. Much less to walk you down the aisle to give you away to the Prince. 

“Stop that right now before you ruin your dress,” Poppy suddenly scolds you, slapping the back of your hands until you let go from where she is perched on the side of the carriage. 

“Here,” she says, shoving a small bouquet of flowers—filled with a collection of wildflowers, carnations, and baby’s-breath—into one of your hands while Brew, the wild badger, and the white bunnies run around the skirt of your dress as they shove a glowing tiara into your other hand.

“Put this on your head, Blossom,” they sing together cheerfully, forcing you to lean down as you accept their little gift and gently place it on the crown of your head. 

“Thank you, my sweet little angels. I don’t know what I would do without you,” you whisper with a content sigh, feeling your nerves calming down as you look at your little friends.  

Your eyes meet Poppy’s worried gaze as she sighs. “Are you really sure about this, ______?” 

Smiling at your friend, you bend down to match her gaze. You know that Poppy has been feeling unsure about all of this. She may have kept her words to herself when the two of you were on your ride home with Prince Jungkook yesterday, yet you could still sense her concern along the way. She has also voiced her concerns about how quickly everything is unfolding, yet she did nothing to stop you from carrying on with this wedding plans when you showed how hopeful and confident you were with your decision. 

Even your grandmother had been worried when you first came home with the news. Yet the Prince was there with you when he asked for her permission to marry you, which melted her heart a little that she had no other choice but to let you go. 

“I am sure. What are the odds that I was to meet with Prince Charming the morning after I dreamt about him? It was definitely a sign from fate, which I must follow if I want to find my happily ever after. Surely, you’d understand.”

You said the same thing last night, when Poppy was there to help you finish your wedding dress. The same thing you also said to your grandmother once Prince Jungkook left to return to the castle, reassuring her that fate wouldn’t have given you the signs if this wasn’t meant to be.

“I do. I’m happy for you,” Poppy says with a small smile, “But you must promise me that you’ll never leave us behind and forget about us.” 

“Never. The forest will always be my home. I’m sure Prince Jungkook is open to helping me make arrangements so I can still spend time with you,” you gently reassure her, “And for me to visit grandmother too from time to time.” 

Poppy shakes her head and shrugs. “All right, if you say so,” she says, finally giving in, “What are you waiting for, then? It’s time to go.” 

Your other forest friends who have been silent while watching you and Poppy going back and forth about the wedding are now cheering for you to go. “Let’s go, Blossom! Go!” 

Their positive energy quickly rubs on you. It helps build up your excitement. A bubble of laughter comes out of you as you feel every bit of your apprehension being chipped away. 

“All right, I’m ready!” you shout, inciting more cheers from your friends. “Let’s go watch me get married!” 

Hiking up your skirt just enough so you won’t be stepping on the hem, you turn and start to track down the pathway leading to the main gate of the castle, carrying with you a new determination and your little friends shadowing your footsteps.

At the main gate, you are welcomed by a familiar face. Standing right before the gate is Sir Noah, still looking as graceful as how you remember him. Wearing a royal suit in dark plum colours and gold linings, his greying hair neatly combed back instead of falling down his face, he looks just like any royal advisor would. 

A smile grows on his face when he sees you coming near, and you greet him with a curtsy. “It’s so nice to see you again, Sir Noah.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Welcome to Castle Andalasia,” he says in return. As you straighten back up, you see him looking around you while looking confused. “Are you, perhaps—on your own? Do you not have anyone with you today?” 

Smiling ruefully, you slowly shake your head. “I no longer have any family other than my grandmother,” you answer with a soft voice. “It’s unfortunate that my grandmother isn’t doing well and she couldn’t travel far in a carriage.” 

Something flashes in Sir Noah’s gaze—surprise, pity, sadness, and an odd look of guilt, although you cannot understand why he would feel so guilty about hearing this—before his expression clears to normal. 

“But, there is nothing to worry about,” you cheerfully add, “because I have my friends here with me to witness this wonderful moment.” 

Sir Noah raises his eyebrows while your friends release a loud cheer. Yet Sir Noah quickly clears his throat and shakes his head. “I see. Unfortunately, I’m afraid your friends will have to enter separately. They are guests, after all, and you might need time to finish preparing.”

While your friends express their displeasure with a series of protesting sounds, you keep a smile on your face to change Sir Noah’s mind. “Oh, but—these friends can help me get ready for the ceremony,” you let out a nervous laugh as you try to convince him, “They were the ones who helped me make this dress too.” 

“And they’ve done a marvellous job,” Sir Noah smoothly says, “But I can assure you that our palace maids will be able to help you, and it will be better for your friends to simply enjoy the ceremony as guests, don’t you agree?” 

Right beside you, Poppy stares at Sir Noah with a scowl on her face. Yet she also sees you getting nervous again because of the sudden change of circumstances. That is why—reluctant as she is to leave you—Poppy masks her emotions and turns to help calm you down. 

“It’s okay, Blossom. I’m sure Prince Jungkook has ordered the palace maids to assist you. We’ll be seeing you later inside, okay?” 

Still feeling unsure, you eventually agree. “Okay,” you murmur to Poppy before turning to Sir Noah, “But Poppy will be the one walking me down the aisle in my grandmother’s place.” 

Sir Noah barely hides his displeasure this time. With his jaw clenched, he releases a sigh and says, ”Fine. That can be arranged. But you really should go now, or else, you’ll be late for your own wedding.” 

“Oh, right! Absolutely.” 

Finally, with a deep sigh of relief, Sir Noah steps aside to let the royal guards open the main gate for you to enter. “Follow this path right here to enter the royal garden, and someone will see you to show you where to go,” Sir Noah instructs you while gesturing towards the long-winded stone-covered pathway leading you towards the maze-like garden. With lines of green hedges on either side of the pathway and a wooden arch-shaped pergola covered in vines waiting for you halfway into the garden. 

“Okay, here we go,” you whisper to yourself, saying it with a clear mind as a self-pep talk before you start walking again. 

With your hands holding your skirt up, your head held high, and a long, deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat, you begin to walk down the pathway towards the center of the garden where the wedding ceremony is about to be held. 

While you keep getting further away from your friends, Poppy cannot find it in her to look away. Call it a gut feeling, but the poor squirrel feels uneasy about letting you go off on your own. But she doesn’t really have a choice now, does she? 

She is no longer in the forest where she gets to call the shots, and this shady old man next to them is the one controlling the situation. 

Poppy throws a side glance at the man who you called as Sir Noah. “So where are we supposed to go?” 

The smile that Sir Noah gives her then brings chill through her tiny body. “Come with me.” 

The group of little animals look at each other before they follow Sir Noah through a separate pathway. Here, the path is covered with a rougher kind of gravel, and the vines and hedges look more unkempt. The further they walk, the closer they huddle together in fear, while Sir Noah barely cares to soothe their worries. 

Even his warm welcome earlier has shifted. He acts more cold with the animals and is even rough when he sends the royal guards away. 

They continue to walk until an iron gate appears down the pathway. It looks a bit rusty, and Poppy has an odd feeling about all of this when she sees Sir Noah pulling out a key from his pocket. 

The iron gate creeks heavily when he opens it, causing all the animals to grimace. “You can enter through this gate,” Sir Noah gestures toward the other side of the gate, and every inch of her muscles fight back to stop Poppy from walking forward.

“Where are you leading us to?” she snaps, and Sir Noah’s expression darkens. 

“Are you insinuating that I’m separating you from the maiden?” 

Brew, now shaking in fear, innocently whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, “But this isn’t the way to the royal garden.” 

Your forest friends may not have had any experience visiting the castle, but they are wild animals from the forest, capable of telling the difference between the well-kept garden and the wild. Beyond the iron gate, the air flows differently. The grasses are thicker, and they can all smell the scent of the muddy lake from all the way here. 

“You are sending us away from the castle,” Poppy growls, absolutely pissed off that the one that you have trusted to take care of your friends is doing this behind your back. 

Sending them away from you, from the wedding, and back out there into the wild. 

“What is going on? Is _____ even safe?” 

“What are you planning to do?” 

Poppy’s little friends begin to protest once they also sense that something is wrong, while the scowl on Sir Noah’s face deepens. “Oh, bollocks. You are too loud,” he snaps. All so suddenly, he lifts a massive shovel that seems to come out of nowhere and starts swinging it towards Poppy and her friends, forcing them to run towards the opened gate before they can get hurt. 

“Now, shoo! Get out of here!” he shouts between each swing. 

Once every single one of your little friends is out the gate, Sir Noah throws the shovel away and closes the iron gate. The sound of the lock being latched back in place pierces through the animals’ chests. 

“Nooooo!” 

“Blossom!” 

Some of them begin snarling and growling, even if they are completely powerless against the tall, elegant, yet evil human before them. 

“What about Blossom?” Brew asks while shaking, both in fear and rage, “What’s going to happen to our friend?” 

Sir Noah leans down, showing his evil smirk as he peeks through from between the iron bars. “Don’t worry about your friend. We’ll make sure that she’s in good hands.” 

With his evil laugh, Sir Noah turns away, leaving your frightened animal friends behind. 

“Where is the Prince? I know that Prince Jungkook will never stand for this!” Poppy shouts in her last effort to threaten Sir Noah, only for the latter to ignore her words, and the sound of his laughter continues to echo further away before he disappears into the royal garden. 

At the depth of the royal garden, you find yourself getting lost. 

It turns out that this place is a maze, confirming your first suspicion when you first laid eyes on the winding pathway disappearing between the tall green hedges. The deeper you walk into the garden, the higher the hedges grow, and the thicker the trees and bushes around you become. The variety of flowers can’t help much to show you where you are, since everything looks the same no matter where you go. 

While worrying about not being able to find your way, you also worry about your friends. You wish you had insisted on having Poppy come with you. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t feel so alone and she could help you find the way by using her sharp senses. 

Will they be alright, you wonder as you think about your furry friends. But knowing that they are in the hands of Sir Noah gives you some peace of mind. Surely, the kind gentleman will be able to help and keep them safe. Right? 

But speaking of Sir Noah—

I thought he said that someone would come to see me and show me the way. But where are they? 

You have been walking for a while, yet there is nobody in sight. Not even a shadow of a person. It seems odd to think that the royal garden will be this empty, especially with a wedding happening this afternoon. 

Turning at a corner, you find yourself at an opening between the maze. A small gazebo is placed at the center with wooden benches inside. Your exhaustion draws you towards it, and with your eyes focused on the benches that seem comfortable for you to sit on, you don’t notice it when a movement suddenly happens from nearby. 

The rustling sound of the bushes is the only warning that you get before someone suddenly emerges from the shadows.

“Aaahh!” you scream in fear, while the figure before you quickly apologises. 

“Oh, dear me. I’m so sorry, dearest,” an old woman’s voice speaks to you, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Eyes still widened in fear, you look at the person before you. Instead of a royal guard or a palace maid, you are met with an old woman wearing a long dress in an earthly colour under a worn-out cloak that hangs to the ground. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” you answer with a nervous chuckle. “It’s a harmless mistake. Are you—are you from around here? I think I’ve gotten lost. I’m supposed to be at the wedding spot by now, but I haven’t seen anyone.” 

The old woman smiles. “Oh, you poor thing. His Highness the Prince should’ve done better to prepare a guard for his bride,” she complains, tsk-ing her tongue and shaking her head with disappointment. “Maybe I can help guide you there? This old hag may not look it, but I do know my way around the castle like the back of my hand.” 

Perhaps, it would have been best if you were wary of an unknown stranger suddenly offering help during dire times. Yet you are quickly reminded of your grandmother waiting back home and think nothing of the old woman who is offering her assistance so kindly. 

“Please, if you may. I don’t want to be late for my own wedding,” you answer her with a relieved sigh. 

“Excellent. Come along, then,” the cloaked woman turns and starts moving towards a different pathway with confident strides. You begin to believe that you are making a good decision then. 

“You look nervous, dear. Is everything okay? I’m sure you're excited about the wedding, aren’t you?” she asks after you walk with her for a moment longer, surprising you that she notices.

Because you are nervous. Only that it has been suppressed under your worries while you were getting lost in the maze earlier. 

“I actually am, if I must admit. Both nervous and excited,” you answer as the flutter in your chest grows wild all of a sudden. “To think that in a matter of minutes, the Prince Charming and I are going to—” your voice falters with nerves, “That we’re going to have our—” Thinking about what is going to happen causes your heartbeat to race, making it hard for you to breathe, to speak, that when you speak next, it almost feels like you are listening to yourself from a far distance away, “We are going to have our true love’s kiss.” 

It feels too surreal to think that it is finally happening. Your dreams are coming true. Even saying it out loud doesn’t seem to make it real. Stunned at how your life is changing so rapidly, you come to a halt. 

“I am most happy for you, my dear. But surely you can’t go into your wedding without going through the old tradition of the castle,” the old woman speaks again with joy—as if she is truly happy for you.

“The old tradition?” you ask, confused. Because you are quite sure that you know everything that you need to know about any kind of wedding tradition within the kingdom, and you are not sure if you are missing anything. 

“Why—to visit the magic fountain, of course,” the woman explains nonchalantly. “All brides would go to the magic fountain and make their final wish, hoping for their happily ever after before they are to wed. The fountain has magic spells, you see, to make sure that your wish is to be granted and for everything to go well until the end.” 

“My—wish?” 

“Yes. Your wish,” she says. The smile that the old woman shows you as she turns to face you brings a shudder to your skin. It is an indescribable feeling. Yet you brush it off, telling yourself that maybe your nerves are acting up again. “Do you have a wish, sweetheart?” 

“I wish,” you find yourself answering, “that we’ll live happily ever after.”

Because that is the only wish that would make sense, after all. Who wouldn’t want to find their happy ever after? While you are so close to having it, deep down, this is what you have been wishing for since you were a little girl and you want nothing to come your way from getting it.

“Then you should pray for your wish to make sure you’ll have it fulfilled, don’t you agree?” the old woman asks you in the most tempting way that you cannot find it in you to say no to. When she sees that you don’t seem convinced enough to follow her, she immediately adds, “It’s not too far from here, and it’ll take only a few seconds, so you won’t be late for your wedding. I promise.”

“You’re right,” you say to her, suddenly feeling hopeful again. “Besides, it would be wrong for me to skip a tradition on my special day.” 

“Good girl,” she says. For a brief moment, you believe that her voice oddly changes. Yet you pay no attention to it as she already begins moving—suspiciously quickly, for an old woman wearing a long, heavy cloak—through the maze again, giving you no other choice but to follow her close behind. 

It doesn’t take long before you emerge into another opening. This time, it seems like you have reached the far end of the garden, and right before your eyes stands the fountain that the kind old woman mentioned earlier. 

“Here it is, the magic wishing fountain,” she says as she steps aside, allowing you to have a good look at the fountain.  

And what you see right in front of your eyes leaves you completely lost for words.

“It’s—beautiful,” you muse softly, admiring the beautiful fountain that you have never once seen before. 

The magic fountain is placed deliberately at what seems to be the heart of the royal garden, right where the sunlight is filtered through a canopy of emerald leaves, giving it a mellow, yet romantic atmosphere. 

Surrounded by cobblestone pathways and vibrant flower beds, the water fountain stands elegantly between the wall of green around you. It is not made in a grand, ostentatious structure, but a modest creation which seems like it was naturally formed between the green hedges and lush trees, almost blending into the solid castle wall that spreads wide through the royal garden. 

The base, crafted from gleaming white marble, frames a pool of crystal-clear water which ripples gently from the center. The intricate design of the marble stone makes it seem like a bed of white flowers emerging from the ground, delicate and sturdy at the same time, instead of a stiff rock which made up the small fountain your grandmother built back home. 

The marble stone frame at the base goes all the way to the back, blending into the contrasting dark wall made of natural stones. You can vines of wild ivy growing from the top of the wall, extending down to the back of the circular pool filled with fresh water. 

The dark wall rises to the very top, where crystal-clear water cascades down from a seemingly mysterious source. To your eyes, it looks like a small replica of the natural waterfall from the heart of the Amaranth Forest, your secret sanctuary that not even your grandmother has ever been to before. 

The fountain's waterfall sparkles in a silver glow that looks ethereal to your eyes, casting a soft, shimmering light as it spills down to the pool of water underneath. The pool water also exudes a silvery luminescence that is almost blinding, yet you find yourself unable to look away. 

There is something about the fountain that keeps drawing you in. A tightness forms in your chest while you are drawn to the mesmerising sight of the water fountain that looks more like it was crafted by nature instead of manmade. It seems to be reminding you of the forest, helping you forget where you are for a brief moment and taking away all of your worries at the same time. 

The soothing sound of the trickling water feels entrancing, calming every nerve-ending, every tension in your body which has grown since you left home. 

Standing this close to it, you can almost feel it, the magic that comes from the spilling water, beckoning you to reach out for it. 

Too immersed in the water fountain and its spellbinding magic, everything around you seems to fade away. Every other sound becomes nothing but white noise, and the presence of the stranger beside you becomes nothing more but a shadow looming close by. You barely notice when she slowly begins to move away. Her voice starts fading in and out through your senses, alluring you in an oddly enchanting way.

Just like a spell would. 

At times like this, Poppy wishes that she has wings instead of these flimsy paws.

She also regrets not having her winged friends—the twin sparrows, the doves, and the little hummingbirds—with them this afternoon so she could ask them for help. But they hadn’t been pleased to make the long trip to the castle, and someone had to stay behind to watch over your sick grandmother and help her around the cabin. 

Yet she pushes aside those thoughts for now, focusing on climbing up the wild vines to reach the top of the outer walls of the castle instead. She is hoping that being high enough from the ground will help her find out where you are, to see if you are safe or if Sir Noah is putting you in harm’s way. Maybe she can also find Prince Jungkook and let him know what had happened.

Poppy has no idea what is going on and why things are turning this way. She can only hope that Prince Jungkook has nothing to do with this. However, she does have a suspicion about a certain someone who might have planned this whole thing up to ruin your and Prince Jungkook’s wedding. 

The only thing that she can’t understand is — Why? Why would anyone do this?

Poppy is out of breath when she is finally at the top of the wall. Now that she is high enough, she can see the outer area where she and her friends had been discarded to — the small lake that is surrounded by trees in various odd shapes, unkempt bushes and grass, with growing wildflowers that are scattered in all visible corners that she can see from up high.

On the other side of the walls, the garden looks like a massive maze, but way more well-maintained and luxurious — except for the small area beyond the locked iron gate that seems to be neglected compared to other parts of the garden. 

Yet Poppy doesn’t waste any more time idling by. She isn’t here to watch the scenery and marvel at it, after all. Once she manages to catch her breath and calm down, she takes one last glance and her other friends who are waiting for her on the ground and launches into a sprint, tracing the top of the wall with a steady run to find a better spot that will allow her to have a better sight of the inner garden. 

It takes a while, but eventually, Poppy can see a glimpse of your wedding dress flashing between the tall hedges. Relieved, she starts cheering to herself. She has been separated from you for long enough that anything could have happened. She keeps going, finding the right spot with the perfect angle where she can draw your attention. 

“_________! Look over here!” she keeps shouting while waving her paws in the air. “Please, Blossom!” 

When she fails to get your attention, Poppy jumps onto the nearest tree, hoping to get higher. The new angle allows her to see what she failed to see earlier. 

“Who is that?” she wonders out loud once she notices that you are not alone. But it isn’t a maid or a guard who is with you, as promised by Sir Noah when he sent you away. 

Instead, all Poppy can see from here is an old woman wearing a cloak that may have seen better days. From this spot, she can also see the hag smiling wickedly while you have your attention on a fountain that looks to be a part of the garden, and you definitely cannot see what the hag is up to when she secretly moves to stand behind you. 

“No! ________!” 

The wall of falling water on the fountain looks so mesmerising that you cannot look away. It seems alluring, enticing you to come closer. 

But you are frozen on the spot. And for a moment, you almost forget why you are here. The thought of your wedding no longer takes the front seat in your mind when you keep feeling like you are being pulled to the fountain. 

“Now, go on then. Make your wish,” you hear the woman coaxing you. Once again, her voice seems to change, no longer sounding like the weak and soft voice that you first heard from her. But then again, it could have been your imagination, because her voice softens again when she speaks, 

“Didn’t you say that you have a wish, my fair maiden? This is your chance to make your wish come true.” 

“Yes,” you hear yourself speak as if you are no longer inside your body. “Yes, I do have a wish.” 

Closing your eyes, you look deeper into your heart and mind, knowing what exactly you want to wish for before taking the next step. Clasping your hands together, you begin to make your wish.

“I wish—that we, Prince Jungkook and I, will live happily ever a—oh!”

All of a sudden, you feel a strong push. You barely open your eyes in shock when you see your entire world being tilted over, and you are suddenly plunged deep into the water. The faux waterfall continues to flow, covering your entire body as you continue to submerge into the bottomless body of water and the world around you fades. 

Up on the surface, the cloaked hag bends over the fountain and releases a wicked laugh. She waves her arms around her and starts chanting a spell on the fountain, and a thick, dark green mist emerges from the ground, surrounding her like a cloud. The moment the mist fades away, the cloaked hag has disappeared, and in her place stands the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyne. 

Her laughter dies down, just as Sir Noah comes out of his hiding. Wringing his hands together, he looks between the fountain that is calming down—the ripples fading as if it hadn’t been disturbed by your entire being—and the smiling Queen who is silently celebrating. 

“If I may ask,” Sir Noah speaks gently, afraid of how the Queen will react to his curiosity, “Where have you sent her, Your Majesty?” 

A soft chuckle slips out of the Queen’s lips as her smile widens once more. “She is now off to the alter-world. To a place far, far away from here. A place where there are no happily ever afters.” 

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!

— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[wannabegwenstacy]

Eden's Favorite Scoups Tumblr Fics

updated: 5/2/2023

A/N: check out the full svt fic recs masterlist for some of the other members. warning i'm a baby carat so its not super full yet and i currently have only some members posts created currently. will be updating with more fic recs periodically. :)

A/N: Also, I don't have a lot of fics linked yet. :( Will continue reading and updating periodically.

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Terrifyingly Innocent by @twogyuu

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, fake dating, slowburn, older brother’s best friend!Seungcheol, badboy!Seungcheol, innocent!reader, older brother!Jihoon, non-idol!au, university!au, low-key Crazy Rich Asians!au (Seungcheol is RICH - implied chaebol lifestyle, Jihoon and reader's family aren't chaebols and are commoners but well-off)

Warnings: PG-13, specific warnings will be listed per chapter.

Summary: Fearful of losing her, yet unwilling to leave; this agreement between Seungcheol and his best friend’s little sister was meant to be casual and temporary, yet he finds himself growing more attached to her day by day.

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push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader

word count: 50,301

genre: smut (18+), enemies to lovers, camboy au, angst (with a happy ending)

Warnings: adult language, excessive use of petnames, copious amounts of banter, e2l antagonism/shenanigans, camboy!cheol, strength kink, size kink, blink and you miss it sir kink, reader likes being a brat and cheol is into it, brief discussion about/hints of potential sexual power dynamics (but they're pretty tame imo), two instances of ass-swatting, mutually consensual possessiveness, semi-public touching, explicit sexual content: masturbation (m. and f.), manual stimulation (m. and f. receive), oral sex (m. and f. receive), protected and unprotected sex + creampie.

Summary: thirsting over your ex’s best friend in general is a bad idea. given that you and seungcheol have never gotten along, it’s even worse. when you accidentally stumble across his stream, though, and he finds out? all bets are off.

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baguette by @bwinnies

Pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: FLUFF , some cursing , food is mentioned (they’re in a grocery store) , seungcheol may make u kinda weak ngl

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FINE DINING 101: STEP ONE (s.c) by @ncteez

Pairing: seungcheol x afab reader 

Wordcount: 3.6k

Warnings: pussy eating (he gets in there), masturbation in the form of humping the mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, there isn’t any penetration or anything but like– maybe in a part two they can actually do more??? idk it depends on if y’all want a part two.

Summary: Is it weird that no man has ever given you some good head and your best friend is a bit annoyed by that? Probably not. Is it weird that he offers to eat you out after a particularly bad date? Oh yeah, for sure. You’re still gonna let him though. 

or the one where seungcheol proves to you just how good he is at giving head.

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Remind Me by @milfgyuu

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.7k

Genre: fluff, humor

Warnings: mc gets drunk, cheol sleeps in underwear only (u can fight me on this), like one (1) unintentional innuendo.

Summary: You’ve had a little too much to drink at your sister’s wedding and can’t understand how or why Choi Seungcheol of all people is assigned to babysit you.

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ice cold, cabin fever by @smileysuh

Pairing: Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader

Rating: 18+ explicit

Wordcount: 25.9k

AU's: e2l, s2l, step brothers Jihan, non idol, ski resort, roomies, etc...

Warnings: threesome, daddy issues, mean/tsundere cheol, wet dreams, spanking, marking, dirty talk, choking, unprotected sex, pain kink, dacryphilia, breast play, praise, degradation, fingering, oral, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, size kink, cumplay, finger sucking, spit roasting, hair pulling, voyeurism, | petnames: (hers) princess, bitch, whore, baby (s.coups) cheol, douche, dick, daddy (mingyu) gyu.

Summary/Preview: "come on, let’s just go back to snakes and ladders and you can pretend we’re not snowed in with no firewood and a dude you hate locked in the bathroom."

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inflection point series by @lovelyhan

Pairing: jeonghan x reader x seungcheol

Wordcount: 6.3k + 8.3k + 7.6k

Tags: unresolved emotional tension, friends to lovers on the hannie side of things, lovers to exes to enemies to lovers again on the cheol side of things, established relationship, angst, smut

Warnings: | pt.2 : implied alcohol consumption, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!) | pt.3 : graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

Summary: you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss’ boyfriend actually is.

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Bite That Lip | One-Shot (Seungcheol) by @beahae

Pairings: Seungcheol/S.Coups x Reader(f)

Rating/genre: M18+, friends-with-benefits to ???; smut 💖, mild angst/fluff

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: Explicit smut, unprotected vaginal penetration, spanking, dom!Cheol and sub!reader, finger sucking, Cheol and Mingyu both lift and carry reader, reader wears workout clothes (sports bra, leggings), sorta sweaty sex, creampie, degradation, kind of breeding kink (depends what you consider a breeding kink to be), reader is referred to as ‘brat’ and ‘a hole’, pet name ‘baby’, begging, possessiveness/jealousy but it’s like hot and not crazy in my opinion, reader is a tease and brat but only before the smut lol

Summary: Seungcheol knows you're really close with his whole friend group. But now that things have... quietly been developing between the two of you, he would love it if you'd cool it with the heavy flirting with the other guys.

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in the eye of the beholder by @cheolism

Pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader

Wordcount: 6.2k

Tags: boyfriend!cheol, dom!cheol, possessive cheol. wall sex, fingering, oral; unprotected sex. worshipful sex. cheol's crude mouth, dirty talk. crying during sex from pleasure, mating press, spitting, hair pulling, consensual choking (just a little). pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart, angel, pretty girl, beautiful). simp seungcheol, his real spending addiction. he's going to tell you you're beautiful until you believe it.

Warnings: MDNI. fat/chubby!reader, insecurity, internalized fatphobia, anxiety. mentions of fatness, stretchmarks, love handles.

Summary: when you don't like how you look in the mirror, your boyfriend decides to take it upon himself to worship you.

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F*ck, Marry, Kill: With the Experienced by @bitchlessdino

Pairing: fem!reader x ex!mingyu x seungcheol x wonwoo

Genre: smut

Wordcount: 5.6k

Tags: poly, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, pet names (princess), unprotected sex (except cheol), praise kink, spanking, clit slapping, fingering, oral (rec. and giving), u, pussy slapping, ass play, triple penetration

Summary: one dumb party game makes a comeback.

[pedrotonin]

LOST IN THOUGHT - PART 1

Or: Thanks to Joel Miller.

[part 2] - [part 3]

Summary: you are Pedro's new groomer and accidently tug his curls a little too hard. Oops.

Pairing: Pedro x female reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Some curse words. Sexual tension (mostly from female perspective)

A/N: Okay, so I decided I would have a go at this fanfiction thing myself. The idea for this is living in my head for a while now. I never wrote fanfiction before, like never in my life.

That, and the fact that English is not my native language, stopped me from giving it a try.

But here we are. Enjoy.

Your first day as Pedro Pascals new groomer was one you wouldn't soon forget.

You'd spend hours preparing for his arrival, pacing back and forth. Waiting. Internally screaming. Panicking. You had, at one point, even called your best friend, who had managed to calm you down a bit. And when he finally walked in with his assistant in tow, you managed to shake his hand and tell him your name. Just like a normal person. Thank god for small mercies.

He sat down in your chair, got rid of his glasses and pulled out his phone. He told his assistent to wait for him at the location the photoshoot was held at in about half an hour. Then he looked up at you in the mirror and smiled. You felt your heartbeat increase.

"So, Mr. Pascal, how wou-"

"Pedro, please,"

You gave him a shy smile and asked how he wanted his hair done. He shrugged and told you to do whatever you'd like.

He then opened his phone, excused himself and started answering texts.

Okay, you could do this. This was your job. You'd done it a million times before. Maybe not with his hair, but still. Hair was hair. Right?

You looked at said hair. It was messy, curly. Brown, streaked with a bit of grey. You inhaled and ran one of your hands trough it. It felt soft. You exhaled. Get a grip.

He already changed for the shoot. Currently wearing grey striped dress pants, a matching waistcoat, a light blue button up shirt and a navy blue tie. Sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, showing his strong arms. You swallowed.

Deciding to put some gel in his hair, so you could slick it back a bit, you reached over his shoulder to grab some products. Your arm brushed his and he looked up at you for a brief moment, before resuming to his text messages...

Dipping your fingers in the product, you willed your inner thoughts to shut up. This was just Pedro Pascal, you could do this. The fact you watched most of his movies, spend more time than you'd ever admit on YouTube looking at his interviews, followed multiple fanpages on instagram and tumblr and read hundreds of fanfictions, it did not matter. You would never tell him this. He did not need to know. Besides you mostly did it to get to know him better. To get to know his different hair styles. It was just work related. Yes, that was exactly what it was. You almost convinced yourself. And the fanfictions? Well, you just liked to read. About him, but still, no harm in reading, right? You were just going to do his hair and that was that. He would never know.

Applying the product in his curls, your mind started drifting to this incredible fanfiction you read last night. It was a Joel one. You especially liked those. Joel Miller, doing all sorts of things to the female reader. Thinking about how you had read it and imagined Joel slowely backing you up against a wall. Pressing his body against yours. Whispering dirty things in your ear. All dominant and needy and...

Pedro let out a tiny groan.

You blinked. Slowly you realised what you were doing. Your right hand was in his hair and you were pulling it. His head even tilted back a bit because of it.

You found his eyes on you through the mirror again. Shit. Shit.

Somehow you could not let go. You were frozen, staring at your own hand.

He groaned again. It shot straight to your core.

You let go and stared at him. Waiting for him to tell you to get the f- out. He did not. Instead he put his phone down, a blush forming on his cheeks.

You forced yourself to speak.

"I am so sor-"

"Mr. Pascal? They are waiting for you." His assistant peeked around the corner.

He got up. Adjusted himself. Donned his glasses and looked at his hair. Fixed it. Your job, your only job...

Turning around he looked you up and down. Heat spread across your entire body. He was so much taller than you. You willed the ground to open up so you could disappear.

He put his hand on your shoulder.

"Lovely to meet you. Untill next time?"

Wait, what?

[next part]

[littlejuicebox]

I just want to stay in that lavender haze.

Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character/Ranger AKA AstarionxWren Rating/Warnings: PG maybe 13?/ Act 1 Spoilers / Nudity / Sexual Tension / Gore / Angst / Anxiety / Cursing / Lae'zel being kind of a butthole Chapter number: Nine Word count: 3.9K Masterlist: Click here. Song inspiration: "Lavender Haze" - Taylor Swift Notes: I know only a few people read this series religiously but thank you! Wren and Astarion are my little lovely goobers and I'm glad at least one person loves them as much as I do. And I know my other work gets more attention, but this is my favorite storyline and I plan to continue writing it. That being said, if you do actually enjoy their story… I truly appreciate the comments on this fic and that’s what inspires me to keep writing them even though they don’t get as much traffic.

-----

After terminating the last few goblins, everyone recollected themselves outside of the dilapidated temple. A few healing potions were drunk, a couple of incantations were murmured and then the group turned to Wren with an expectant look, waiting for her next directive.

The half-elf woman never actually wanted to be a leader. But more than once, she’d had the damned role thrust upon her. It was becoming annoyingly, and unfortunately, apparent that this time would be no different. What was it about her that made everyone trust her judgement; why did they let her make the calls? Hadn’t Shadowheart been doing a fine job… couldn’t she just… keep doing it?

The tired little bird sighed, running her bloodied, callused hands through a mess of gut-splattered brunette hair as she looked towards the sky, quickly gauging the time. It was early evening by now. The last few rays of sunlight were glimmering upon the horizon as that soft blend of rose and orange began to melt into a deeper, star-speckled blue. The merry band of misfits had to accomplish two things at once by nightfall… so unfortunately, they would have to split up.

Wren rubbed at the jagged lightning bolt burns sneaking out from underneath her bracers; it hurt like hells. Her eyes glossed over the group as she took a deep, exhausted breath, and then muttered, “Well... I’m sure Halsin needs to get to Emerald Grove as soon as possible. Some of us should go with him and the others should swing by the bog to pack up camp and bring it all back to the Grove. We'll have to head out from there once we've all had some time to recover. Astarion and I will go with Halsin, the rest of you can pack up camp and then meet up with us.”

Lae’zel made it clear she disapproved of this call with a hissed, “Tchk! Why do we have to do all the grunt work, while you and your favorite vampire princess get the easier route.”

Astarion almost leapt forward to snap at insufferable woman, quite displeased with being called a princess. Before he could, Wren’s mouth hardened into a thin line at the challenge, and she quickly stepped closer to the Githyanki, tone dropped into an irritated hiss.

“You’ve been given more people than we have, Lae’zel. The Grove needed Halsin back yesterday, and Astarion is skilled at both downing and evading enemies… whatever we may happen to need along the way. The Archdruid can surely handle himself. As for the rest of you… Well, sorry to be the one to say it and to burst your little bubbles, but none of you aren’t quite as versatile as the two of us, and you all need one another to cover your weak spots. It isn't favoritism, it's pragmatism.

And as for me? I had my brain invaded and nearly fell to my death today… so no, I’m not interested in packing up camp and playing inventory manager right now. If that’s such a problem for you, Lae'zel, and you’re questioning my judgement, then leave my shit there for all I care. I have all I need in my pack... Or should I remind you, I'm not the one that insists on hauling a stone wheel all around Faerun when a simple whetstone would suffice?"

Wren and Lae'zel were roughly the same height; she stood nose to nose with the fighter, her two-toned eyes boring into angry reptilian ones. Gods, Wren was growing so tired of this. If no one else wanted to be the one to make the calls, then why was there always someone questioning her judgement?

“Oi, no worries, mate! I’ll take care of yours and Fangs’ stuff.” Karlach cut in, stepping between the two women, quick to try and ease the group tension. “Go on and we’ll meet you — the Grove has to be in an absolute state by now, what with Kagha and all her antics.”

Lae'zel spat at the ground and then spun away from Wren, and the two groups went their separate ways in silence.

-----

The short journey to Emerald Grove was a mostly quiet one. Astarion felt too mentally worn from all the revelations of the day to play the loquacious, flirtatious rake. Wren, on the other hand, felt absolutely shredded around the edges of both her psyche and her body.

The Druid and the ranger had a brief conversation about her father, but it soon became clear it wasn’t a subject Wren wanted to discuss for too long. She would trail off or become distracted during the conversation, her mind entirely elsewhere. Halsin graciously took the hint and let silence fall among the trio, chalking everything up to the exhaustion of such a tedious and gore filled day.

At the gates of Emerald Grove, many of the tieflings and a few of the druids welcomed the Archdruid with a chorus of ecstatic cheers. All three beings were ushered in with a smattering of hugs, thanks, and congratulations, which Wren numbly accepted and Astarion willingly played into. Halsin soon interrupted the small welcoming party and rushed to interrupt the ritual of thorns, unleashing a scary and very bear-like chastisement to all the participants. His thundering voice drew the attention of everyone in the grove, and Wren took the opportunity to quickly peel away from the scene.

Astarion’s eyes followed Wren as she headed towards where they’d rescued that Tiefling kid from the Harpies weeks ago. This was his chance; the other campmates weren’t around to stick their noses into his business. The vampire thought for a moment that he might try and use his body to lure information from her like a Harpy used their voice to lure tiefling children… and he quickly made his peace with that possibility. Whatever the method, the rogue had to act now, without the risk of outside interruptions. He had to pry some information out of Wren tonight.

The pale elf quickly trailed down the remaining stone steps while the other druids had their heads bowed, listening to Halsin's booming lecture. Silent steps led him around the curved pathway, down to the water bank. He thought he’d see Wren rinsing her hands and face, ridding them of filth or taking a small moment of silence to stargaze or smoke from that pilfered pipe. He truly didn’t expect to see a panicked little bird, tearing wildly her own armor, trying to rip it off. He stared dumbly at the wide-eyed and panting ranger, watching as she appeared to be in the middle of a battle with… well, herself.

Wren’s eyes snapped to Astarion, where he was frozen mid step, scarlet eyes assessing her hysterical movements. Suddenly, she called out in something between a strangled scream and a sob, shaking hands now pulling desperately at her chest plate, “Take it off! Take it off! Please!”

She fell to her knees, half in the sand, half in the water. Her hands ripped at the leather straps of her armor as she heaved. She sounded as if the weight of her armor were crushing her; she sounded as if she couldn't breathe.

Of course, she could breathe… she was speaking, after all. Astarion didn’t know what else to do but answer her pleading voice. So he moved forward, deft hands quickly unsnapping buckles and ripping leather pauldrons from the ranger’s shoulders. She gasped in relief, and without a word, nimble fingers moved down to snap off her chest plate and then quickly loosened the laces of her bracers.

His brow furrowed as he watched Wren’s face, still caked in goblin guts, with thin rivulets of tears streaming from her two-toned eyes. She clumsily slid her bracers off and threw them down into the sand. Wren was still heaving as she sank down into the earth and then suddenly, she was sobbing, her entire body shaking with the force of her cries.

Gods. This absolutely hadn’t been the plan; Astarion was, once again, totally out of his depth here. How did he keep getting caught in these ridiculous situations with her? None of this ever ran on any script he'd ever prepared for himself.

The rogue ran a stressed hand through his hair before he took a deep breath and kneeled beside her, placing his cold hands on either of her shoulders. “Darling, listen to me! Shut up, right now. Stop this instant or else the entire grove is going to be here staring at you in a few minutes and unless I’m horribly mistaken, you don’t want that. Wren, come on, that's enough!”

The ranger wasn’t listening; to be fair, Astarion couldn’t be sure she heard him in her current state. She was still crying -- well, wailing, really -- and the look in her eyes seemed a million miles away. He recognized that look, that feeling. It made his gut churn. The vampire began to panic; she needed to quiet down before this all became an even bigger spectacle, or worse, someone accused him of causing her pain.

“Darling! Wren! For gods sakes—“ The rogue snapped his eyes shut and plunged forward in a last-ditch effort. He smashed his always-cold lips into her always-warm ones, swallowing her insufferable cries, digging so tightly into her shoulders as if he were hoping to pull her out of her own mind with brute force.

They stayed frozen like this for several beats; time almost felt like it ground to a halt. Astarion could hear the half-elf woman’s heart thudding erratically in her chest and then, miraculously, slow itself to a steadier thrum. The vampire opened his eyes and pulled away to see the little bird staring dumbly at him, her perpetually berry-stained lips swollen from the crushing force of his mouth on hers. Wren blinked rapidly, but remained silent, before carefully lifting her hand out of the water and brushing it against her own lips.

“Apologies, darling, but I didn’t know what else to do. Now let’s get cleaned up and then we can chat about whatever is going on in that pretty but absolutely twisted head of yours.” Astarion murmured, quite ruffled, but still lifting himself to his feet and then holding out a hand to help the little bird up, as well.

The half-elf woman had apparently fallen selectively mute, but she nodded her head and followed the vampire as he dragged her back toward the grove circle.

He was still mad at her. Furious, really. He didn’t have all the words to explain why, but he felt she’d somehow been misleading or hiding things from him all along. But then again, hadn’t he been doing the same in so many ways? If he weren't outright lying, which he definitely had more than once, then wasn't he also concealing aspects of himself… just like she had? But somehow, despite the clear hypocrisy Astarion was aware of and chose to ignore, it still felt like a betrayal to him. And yet, even though she absolutely infuriated him… the way she looked in her panic plucked at his heartstrings and compelled him, beyond his better judgement, to comfort her.

Gods this was supposed to be easy. A nice, simple plan. But it grew increasingly complicated by the minute.

-----

Halsin kindly allowed Astarion and Wren access to his bedchamber. The bear of a man often preferred to bathe in the natural water source on the edge of the Grove, but he conveniently kept a tub for soaking within his personal chambers, more for his own rare moments of enjoyment.

“Thank the gods that the druid isn’t totally removed from society.” Astarion mumbled, after Halsin helped to fill the massive wooden tub with heated water and then politely saw himself out. He was about to have a lengthy conversation with Kagha… surely, they would hear the results later.

Wren hadn't uttered a single word, but she watched as the vampire moved around her, plucking jars from the shelf by the tub and sniffing them. Finally, he settled on one, and poured some of the milky contents into the tub, causing the water inside to turn a clouded haze of pale purple. Then, he spun to the little bird and clapped his hands in his signature, impatient chop-chop. “Well, come on then, darling. In you go."

Wren sat blinking at him, unmoving. Astarion scoffed and rolled his eyes, briskly moving toward the archer. “Little bird, surely you aren’t going to turn down the first real bath you’ve had in weeks and the only one you’ll get for who knows how long. Now enough of this. Arms up.”

The half-elf sighed and followed Astarion's order with heavy limbs. The vampire stripped her of everything besides her underwear and then tugged her with a bit of force, over to the tub. The rogue couldn’t help but admire the sinewy ripples of her back, and the freckles along her collarbone as he watched Wren remove her smallclothes and sink into the opaque tub of water.

The little bird closed her eyes and sighed as the comforting smell of lavender began to swirl around her. Wren allowed herself the smallest moment of bliss as she inhaled the relaxing tendrils of scented steam, but then she felt Astarion’s leg slipping into the bath with her and snapped her eyes open to stare at the silver-haired elf.

The man cocked an eyebrow as he assessed Wren’s wide, shocked eyes from where he faced her, now sunk chest deep in water, sitting on the opposite side of the tub. He huffed and leaned back in the bath as his long arms crossed resolutely.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re suddenly a prude now, little bird. This bath is more than big enough for the two of us, thanks to the behemoth it belongs to, and we’ve already seen one another completely nude and in the throes of ecstasy. So, if you think I’m going to pass up the only luxurious bath I might get in weeks, just because you’re naked and in a sour mood, you’re dead wrong.”

Wren chuckled; Astarion smirked in response at the first sign of her potentially improving mood. And then the ranger gave a good-natured eye roll before she shifted over just enough to make a bit of room for the rogue’s legs. But still, she didn’t speak.

The vampire occupied himself with dunking a sponge in water and wiping the grime off his own body. After that, he grabbed a small wooden cup off the bath tray and rinsed his hair; pale hands moved to scrub more of that milky liquid through his blood-flecked silver strands. Astarion closed his eyes and carefully rinsed again, inhaling the floral aroma and ensuring he felt no more suds remaining in his precious curled locks.

When the rogue’s lids fluttered open, the little bird had already moved to scrubbing her own body with a sponge. With his eyes closed, Astarion didn't see that she'd been staring at him, admiring his little smile and the way his hair looked weighed down by the water.

Wren flicked her gaze toward the vampire and sighed; her mouth opened as if she were about to speak, but then she sighed and shut it again. A few more minutes of silence passed, in which both beings simply welcomed the heat as it eased the soreness of overtired muscles.

Eventually, the ranger broke the silence, her voice still raw and scratchy from the earlier episode at the shoreline. The pale elf's eyes were closed as he lounged in the tub, but quickly snapped open when his pointed ears picked up her quiet, shaking voice.

“There are many pathways to and from the Underdark throughout Faerun. Kol was out with his friends, exploring one of those pathways. Unfortunately, they’d picked one that led to a cavern full of Phase Spiders… not unlike the one we encountered down that well.

We were out hunting when we heard their screams and went to investigate. By the time we downed the spiders, Kol was the only one alive… but barely.”

Astarion passed the cup to Wren as she spoke, and a few more seconds of silence passed as she rinsed and scrubbed her own hair with the lavender-scented solution. The elf watched from hooded, relaxed eyes as the water ran down the woman’s neck, languidly flowing down to that little spot at the crook where two faint pinpricks blended into a smattering of freckles, before finally trickling to where her breasts hid under the clouded tub of water.

“My father and the other elders wanted to leave Kol there to die… simply let nature take its course. But a few of the younger generation, including myself, begged them for mercy and they relented. Kol spent a week with us before he was well enough to go on his way and return to the Underdark. But he didn’t want to go. Life isn’t exactly great for male Drows in Menzoberranzan, especially not a second son, despite the Baenre name. So, he left a coded note in the cavern in case any of his other friends hoping to escape came looking for him... and then he was one of us.

Father considered Kol dead weight… he was softer, an artist… he would often draw me pictures of squirrels or other creatures. He was about average with a blade and terrible with a bow… but he was talented in other ways and surprisingly kind. I’d never met a man with a gentle, soft-hearted nature quite like him. And he pulled a softness out of myself that I’d shoved down and all but forgotten when my aunt brought me to my dad.

My father never wanted to be a parent, he remained unwed and unattached for that very reason, but I was an unexpected consequence of his actions and well… suffice to say I didn’t always have the most tender upbringing. Neither did Kol, but he honored his own nature despite that.

Anyway, my dad wanted me to marry Zahara, my first love… or one of the other warriors. His priority was to guarantee my safety and status within the clan. Either Zahara or I were going to be the next elder when one of the clan members passed… so it was the most pragmatic decision. But I was uninterested; so was she… we’d had our fun, but the romantic love just never stuck between us.

Against my father’s wishes, I snuck away with Kol... more than once. We sometimes journeyed down into the Underdark, and he showed me around very briefly. I suppose you've never been, but it’s beautiful down there, truly. We would never venture close to the city; he didn’t want to risk being caught… turning from Lolth is unthinkable and unacceptable in their culture. But I know he missed the beauty of the Underdark… he drew it all the time.

Father eventually relented and gave his blessing for Kol and me to be married. He knew I would leave and marry Kol on my own, settle down in some small hamlet or within a city, if it ever came down to it. So, we were married one beautiful autumn day, and we spent five years as husband and wife until his own kin found him.

They tracked us for days, waiting for the right opportunity. Kol was ambushed; they found him alone by the river near where we’d made camp. He was drawing, practically defenseless apart from a small dagger. I had been hunting not far away with the youngling group I’d been placed in charge of. I ran to the screams, but he was already gone when I got to him... Minthara was among them, she escaped… but one of her siblings and a two of her cousins were less lucky, in the end.”

Wren blinked away tears that were just beginning to form in her eyes as her voice cracked. She inhaled a shuttering breath through wobbling lips. Astarion watched the little lip scar that he was absolutely obsessed with as it trembled and fought back the urge to move forward and envelop it in a kiss.

The little bird dunked her lithe hands under the water and brought them back up to her face, wiping at the final specks of blood still stuck to her forehead and cheeks. She missed the spot near her eye, and Astarion leaned himself forward, lifting his hand to gently rub at the stubborn stain with his thumb. His eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to process all the information. And then, he stuck his foot in his mouth.

“So… when you said you downed two of house Baenre… it turns out you didn’t actually mean your own husband.” He murmured, his hand lingering a beat too long on her cheek.

“No! What?!” Wren snapped, her own eyebrows crinkling together as she pushed Astarion's hand away from her face.

Astarion rolled his eyes and huffed, leaning back again on his side of the tub. Part of him wanted to back off, but the more insolent and hurt part decided to double down. “Look, you've been quite mysterious about all this, and one can’t help but assume things, trying to make sense of it all. You’re hard to read!”

“Have you ever considered I’m not here like a book to be read?” The little bird snapped, suddenly lifting herself out of the bath. Streams of water trickled from her dark hair down her naked, freckled body. Astarion averted his gaze, suddenly quite aware he'd made another misstep and unwilling to piss Wren off further with his wandering eyes.

She climbed from the tub and snatched a towel from the shelf, wrapping it around herself before crouching and rustling through her bag. Then Wren quickly pulled her chemise from the sack and threw it over her head. When she turned and looked at Astarion, the expression on her face was a heartbreaking mixture of disappointment and sadness. She heaved a heavy, burdened sigh as she slipped her camp shoes on and shoved everything into her bag before grabbing it by one tattered strap.

“Astarion…” His name on her lips simultaneously sounded like a song and a slap, “If you’d ever bothered to actually ask me about myself… I would’ve told you the truth. I would’ve told you anything you wanted to know… if you’d just asked. I felt it, that night you pried into my mind, after the first time we kissed, you know. Why do you think you saw primarily nature scenes? That Wood Elf you kept seeing? It was a nightmare… not a memory.”

And then she walked out of the room, leaving Astarion alone and staring up at the ceiling. The vampire ran his hand through his hair and then groaned, dunking himself under the water’s lavender-scented, hazy surface. He closed his eyes, effectively cutting his senses off to the outside world. For a while, Astarion considered staying like this forever… he didn’t need to breathe, after all. Perhaps he could just hide in the tub, senses numb, all alone. Nobody would miss him or come looking for him here… that much was certain.

But soon the bath water started to grow cold, his fingers began to prune, and the rogue’s discomfort forced him to break through to the surface — and to reality — once again. He stood and shook his head, spraying scented droplets around the room before gathering his own towel and wrapping it around his waist. Astarion sighed and sat down on a bench, pinching his nose bridge as he wondered what in the hells he should do now. His body was clean, but his mind still felt riddled with debris.

Perhaps it hadn’t been Wren weaving a messy web around him… perhaps he’d been the one doing it to himself all along.

[oillipheist9000]

I need fun curse words

I really wanna talk to my sister about hazbin hotel, but i need it to be at most pg 13 cause my sister is 15 and lives with my mother lol

Out of a mix of my sister's prefrence and getting the rating down, i'm editing out All the cursing (omghelpme)

Imma do a voiceover and replace the curses with funny play ground insult type stuff. Please give me some ideas, it can be a word exchange, a particular scene recommendation, just a funny one. Anything.

While im at it, lol. Also looking for any fanart that i can slap over a couple scenes 😬😬 (window scene in episode 1, couple scenes from poison and prob episode 4 in general, and the 'alastor rips a demon in half' bit in episode 5)

Not putting it up anywhere, just for my sister XD. I can also share it with anyone that helps, if you want.

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, July 8th

Faith: The whole summer it was, like, the worst heat wave. So it's about a hundred and eighteen degrees and I'm sleeping without a stitch on. And all of a sudden, I hear this screaming from outside. So I go tearing out, stark nude, and this church bus has broke down, and there's these three vamps feasting on half the Baptists in South Boston. So I waste the vamps, and the preacher comes up, and he's hugging me like there's no tomorrow, when all of a sudden, the cops pull up and they arrested us both. Xander: Wow. They should film that story and show it every Christmas.

~~Faith, Hope, & Trick~~

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Drabble: Mirror Man by sparrow2000 (Giles, Angel, G)

Drabble: Mirror Man by sparrow2000 (Giles, Angel, G)

Drabble: Mirror Man by sparrow2000 (Giles, Angel, G)

You've Got To Be Kitten Me by EvelynneHancock (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Real by Joan963z (Buffy/Spike, G)

I Can See You by FoolForSpuffy (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Bring Me To Life : A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel Crossover Event, Chapter 66 by Jean_theGuardian (Buffy/Angel, not rated)

You Have Shattered, and I Will Pick Up the Pieces, Chapter 9 by theRealLadyLucifer (Buffy/Faith, not rated)

Fathers And Daughters, Chapter 13 by ttfan111robstar1 (Giles & multiple characters, M)

Who Wants to Live Forever? Chapter 13 by A_World_Without_Shrimp (Buffy/Faith, M)

The Love We Foster, Chapter 2 by Empire_of_the_Words (Buffy/Angel, Connor, T)

Doing my best to get back to you (Ain’t nothing I’d rather do), Chapter 1 by My_Barbaric_Yawp (Buffy/Spike, M)

Time after Time, Chapter 1 by StrongAndBitter (Buffy/Spike, M)

A Slayer's Fortune, Chapter 1 by VoronaFiernan (Buffy/Spike, M)

Curse of Rebirth, Chapters 1-15 (complete!) by VolcanicThread (Giles/OC, E)

Buffy is Looking to the Night Sky, Chapter 1 by ILLYRIAN (Buffy, Willow, Amy, First Signal and U.F.O. crossover, not rated)

Two Mules for Brother William, Chapter 7 by alittlemoretime (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Fireflite, Chapters 2-3 by Dynamite (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Dawn the Vampire Slayer, Chapter 11 by LJ94 (Buffy/Spike, R)

Excerpts, Chapter 9 by Holly (Buffy/Spike, R)

Oh The Sights You'll See, Chapter 12 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Jigsaw, Chapters 11-12 by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, R)

Long Story Short, Chapters 10-25 (complete!) by scratchmeout (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Becoming Us, Chapters 26-29 by BewitchedXx (Buffy/Spike, R)

Doing my best to get back to you (Ain’t nothing I’d rather do), Chapter 5 by fortes775 (Buffy/Spike, R)

Dream, Chapter 15-19 by Dusty (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

B&S 4ever: Drabbles, Chapters 13-14 by cawthraven (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Through the Years, Chapter 7 by DarkVoid116 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Keepsakes, Chapters 9-11 by violettathepiratequeen (Buffy/Spike, G)

The Text Message Memories of Buffy & Spike, Chapter 7 by Julikobold (Buffy/Spike, G)

To Still Be Wanting You, Chapters 11-12 by simmony (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The (bad) Poems of William S. Pratt, Chapter 6 by Julikobold (Buffy/Spike, G)

Bits and Bobs, Chapter 3 by Behind Blue Eyes (Buffy/Spike, R)

Ephemera, Chapters 11-13 by HappyWhenItRains (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Sometimes, Chapter 6 by Electric Heart (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Scenes from the FAA-Verse, Chapters 13-15 by Willow25 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

The many different ways that you can kill the one you love, Chapter 6 by mcgnagallsarmy (Buffy/Spike, R)

The stories we could tell, Chapter 5 by Julikobold (Buffy/Spike, G)

Neon, Chapters 2-3 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, R)

Word of the Day, Chapters 9-11 by Nupalie (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

The Art of Dying, Chapters 4-5 by disco-tea (Buffy/Spike, R)

Part of the Family, Chapters 2-6 by Harlow Turner (Buffy/Spike, PG1-3)

Blackout, Chapters 1-8 by bewildered (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Keeping Up with Spuffy, Chapter 1 by DeamonQueen (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Sixteen Love Stories and a Song of Despair, Chapters 1-17 (complete!) by EllieRose101 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Spuffy Drabble Moments, Chapter 1 by Spuffyfangirl28 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

A Vampire's Guide to Dating the Slayer, Chapter 5 by the_big_bad (Buffy/Spike, PG)

Best Wishes, Chapter 3 by bookishy, Dusty, Grief Counseling, ashcrashed, MaggieLeFay, womanaction (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Be Kind, Rewind, Chapter 3 by Acb6293, scratchmeout, Dynamite, Lady Emma, Julikobold, flootzavut (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Mystery of the Disappearing Scoobies, Chapter 3 by sandy_s, Megan, SomeKindOfADeviant, JSBirsa, Yummysushi17, Harlow Turner (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Fireflite, Chapter 2 by Dynamite (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Keepsakes, Chapters 9-11 by violettathepiratequeen (Buffy/Spike, G)

Long Story Short, Chapters 10-25 (complete!) by scratchmeout (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: Cordelia and Angel post it note doodles by artsying-ifer (worksafe)

Artwork: BtVS quotes mini paintings by interplanetaryartgasm (worksafe)

Artwork: pretty skirt Spike by tubesock86 (worksafe)

Manip: Crazy Stupid Love by l0veisntbrains (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Fanvid: Buffy and Angel- Say Yes To Heaven by Movieandtvshows 2

Fanvid: Spike & Buffy shattered 4K by Moon Child

Vidlet: Buffy & Spike & Angel│Vampire (Olivia Rodrigo) by pjo edits

Music: Buffy The Vampire Slayer by Lil Heart Attack

[Reviews & Recaps]

Video: The Replacement-Slayer Sunday by Jane Talks Buffy

Video: Why Buffy Still Matters (in 2023) by Cool Channel DreadTube

[Recs]

Fic recs: fave cangel fics set in btvs or s1 of ats recced by someonefantastic

Fic rec: (love me) as much as your heart can stand by summerfrost (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) recced by spuffyarchive

Fanvid rec: kittenpoker's Bi Bi Bi (Buffy/Faith) recced by Blazinwolve

Animation video rec: Trevor Carlee LEGO Buffy animations by kingFYREFLI

[Community Announcements]

August Fic A Day Challenge Discussion by Twisting the Hellmouth

SoS: Living with Spike Competition by Buffy-Boards

Buffy Trivia in San Jose, CA on 08/15 by enrastrea

Buffy Night at Knucklehead (Hollywood, CA) Sunday, July 16th! by catholicked_

[Fandom Discussions]

The Watcher’s Council really should have been the big threat of Buffy’s fourth season by coraniaid

do you think buffy woke up in a post 9/11 america? by weirdbabs

do you think buffybot gives off warmth? by weirdbabs

every relationship with a woman that lindsey has is about angel by thepunkmuppet

It’s so strange watching BTVS episodes where they talk about computers by meret118

Spike calling Angel a drama queen is so funny by HerMyOhKnee Granger

Faith has the third highest speaking time per episode by coraniaid

[Thoughts about Cordelia] by coraniaid

Buffy saying “I loved him more than I will ever love anything in this life” by aphrditee

Missing' Scenes/Scenes You Wished The Writers Had Included? by hoponlilmama

In a fight who would win Gunn or evil Spike by Awkward-Yak-9033

Gunn vs Riley by Awkward-Yak-9033

A hole in the world by lonelyhedgehoh

Missed opportunity with Joyce by Lobothehobosexual

Don’t be a Xander by PeaceOrchid

I just saw potential and that really made me just regain some respect for Xander by Mitogi

Angel and Spike strength by Chapon

Empty Places. Why did the writers do this? by kbsfc30

If Harmony joined the Scoobies with a chip or a soul what would one of the consequences be? by rationalsilence

What if someone listed their home address as the school address... Would that uninvite all the vamps? by tennantnator

What do you think of Buffy as a school counselor in the seventh season? Yea or Nay? by jdpm1991

Your Dawn Headcanons by NikkolasKing

Spike Vs Riley by brentus86

In Band Candy Ripper has a different accent from Giles by princess_platinum8

Principal Wood vs Charles Gunn - Who's the stronger fighter when fighting vamps? by jdpm1991

Working on some more Sunnypops (Buffy Fan art) by illustrated_mixtape

Anya early in season 4 versus later by Tuxedo_Mark

Soul Vs No Soul - Right and Wrong by brentus86

Favourite Giles line for no reason? by Johnny_Joestar7798

If each main character could drop the “f bomb” once in the show, when would you make it happen? by finchfeathers

Why Spike is a special vampire by Chapon

The Season 2 Soundtrack by NikkolasKing

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

[radikalandfriedrich]

The one about a bike, a beer and a skinny-ass sparrow

Fandom: 9-1-1: Lone Star

Pairing: Owen Strand/Ty O'Brien

Rating: PG-13

Tags: Humor

***

From the first day they meet, Ty realizes that Owen is a huge pain in the ass. This is evidenced not only by the fire captain's constant brandishing of his skills (and, as his broken nose suggests, his fists), but also by his senseless, almost childlike willingness to go into the epicenter of any disaster as if he were the only rescuer for miles around. His instinct for self-preservation must have burned up somewhere in the ruins of one of the Twin Towers that damn September morning, along with his belief in his own value to this world. It just lays in a flat layer of ash on the ruins of the business center, and now Ty has to drag his skinny ass out of every trouble Owen gets into.

“My ass is not skinny!” Owen gasps for air indignantly when Ty has the temerity to speak his mind out loud.

He is standing in the middle of the firehouse, and he looks quite funny to Ty: a wet T-shirt with sweat streaks under his throat and armpits, tousled hair standing up in all directions, gasoline-stained boots and hands black with grease. It seems that Owen's new friend has decided to show some character.

“I didn't say that,” Ty shrugs, “I just suggested replacing the seat with a more anatomically correct one”.

Owen grimaces, as if Ty's words hurt him physically, and deliberately turns the radio up to full blast, which is met with a grudging curse from someone from the 126th crew on the floor above. Judging by the female, albeit low-pitched voice, Ty concludes that Owen has even freaked out Captain Vega with his disco.

He squats down next to him, critically examines the muddy wheels and sighs. His father used to say that a motorcycle is better than a mistress and twice as good as a wife. What he sees in front of him makes him realize why Owen never got lucky with women.

“Actually, I came by to remind you about the beer.”

Owen sighs and leans his head back. For a moment, Ty even feels sorry for him, but he's a big boy and old enough to learn how to fix his own toys.

“If you want, you can come over to my place today, but don’t ride this. I don't want to have a three-meter distance between my house and a potential accident site.

Owen snorts and reaches for the radio with a dirty hand, but a second later he curses and kicks the bike's stand as I want to ride my bicycle starts to play ironically throughout the firehouse.

Ty decides to walk away. The last thing they need is for Owen to completely destroy his two-wheeled friend.

***

At the last minute, their plans change. Owen says into the phone that he hasn't been able to figure out how to fix the bike, and he's not going to cheat on him with a car or, God forbid, a taxi. So Ty has to get dressed in a hurry and go to his place.

Although the homey atmosphere, linen T-shirt, and plain gray sweatpants make him seem softer, Owen is still the damned Owen he was born to be. He's probably had a glass or more while waiting for a drinking buddy, so when he bends down in front of the bottom shelf of the fridge and wobbles a little, Ty decides that coffee will be enough.

“I understand that living alone does its own thing, but wouldn't you like to have a little privacy in this matter?” Ty asks, looking at the cover of a men's magazine with a gorgeous blonde woman clutching her arms to her chest and squeezing saltwater from a blue swimsuit.

Owen turns around and rolls his eyes.

“It's TK’s.”

And Ty, of course, sees that here, on page seventeen, is an article with tips from a fashion expert on how to dress for a wedding, but Owen is so drunkenly clumsy and a little confused in his own kitchen that he just wants to pelt him with jokes, because it feels like touching mimosa leaves.

“That's a very lame excuse, considering that your son is about to marry a man,” Tai drawls and starts flipping through the magazine out of boredom. He's not too impressed with the content, but the articles are really good. At least the part that isn't covered with photos of half-naked girls.

“It is,” Owen turns and raises index finger, “a legitimate one, since I've been experimenting with my preferences lately.

Ty just raises his eyebrows in response. The coffee machine hisses loudly, blowing steam over the cup with the 126th emblem, and suddenly stops. Owen glares at it, and something in his eyes tells Ty that in a few more minutes, the notoriously difficult nature of firefighter-rescuer-captain-and most importantly-mechanic Strand will force him to go deal with the coffee machine the same way he dealt with the bike, which is to break it the hell up. So Ty rests his elbow on the table and props his chin with his fist, distracting Owen from the tempting idea of going without coffee for at least a week.

“Have been experimenting?”

Owen looks away, smiles briefly and shyly, and lowers his unmanly long eyelashes.

“A midlife crisis? Being around young people? Being around TK? I don't know. I guess now it's more about the search than the final stop, you know.

Not that Ty is surprised by such frankness from a not-so-sober man, but Owen Strand's main trait is still with him even when he's drunk - he knows how to surprise.

Ty nods and reaches for his cup. Obviously, the coffee machine doesn't take kindly to nighttime guests, because the amount of invigorating drink can only get a sleepy mouse drunk. But, considering that the only reason he agrees to drink coffee at midnight is because Owen is too drunk for this time of day, so the stronger the better.

“I understand. And I really hope that one of the Honor Dogs hasn't been the object of your experiments.”

Owen grimaces, tiny wrinkles appear on his nose. He places his cup under the trickle of aromatic coffee and stretches, closing his eyes.

“A man should separate hobbies, work, and spiritual passions.”

“And in which of these categories do you put sex with strangers?”

Owen laughs, flashing a straight row of perfect white teeth (or maybe veneers) and shakes his head, still not opening his eyes. He looks like a sparrow in his roomy pants and unusually large T-shirt, but it's best not to say it aloud.

“He was not a stranger. We had been drinking beer every Friday for three weeks in a row. We're almost old friends now.”

“Mm-hmm,” Ty takes a sip of coffee, keeping his eyes on Owen. “You said the same thing about the Honor Dogs.

Owen turns to him, one eye open, as if to say, “Let's not bring that up.”

“But we weren't bored.”

Ty isn't quite sure who Owen means by this vague “we”: either the two of them against a gang of crazy bikers or himself and his Friday night lover, but he doesn't argue. Anything involving Captain Strand can't be boring. Owen smiles at him again, rests his palms on the tabletop and pulls himself up so that his T-shirt rises slightly, and his pants slide down below his waist, revealing deep pits in his lower back.

Ty squints his eyes, dazzled by the crystal glow of the kitchen, though perhaps it's Owen's teeth. He chooses the most inappropriate moment for this, because at this very second there is a creak of leather on marble, followed by a dull sound of falling and a faint “damn” coming from somewhere on the floor.

“Owen?”

Ty leaps to his feet and rounds the table only to see Owen stretched out on the tile, rubbing his hand over the spot that had obviously cushioned his landing. He grimaces and looks at Ty from under his brows as if he is waiting for another joke, but it's hard to comment on this because it already looks like a mockery of the universe. The secondary flash of fear for Owen's life and health passes, giving way to a kind of almost parental irritation and fatigue.

“When I said I was constantly having to rescue your skinny ass, which is a magnet for adventure, I meant it,” Ty sighs and holds out his hand to Owen, but he seems to be clinging to the only two words that matter to him.

“Skinny?” Owen asks again and shakes his head as if he doesn't believe what he's hearing. “Neat? Maybe. Round? That's closer. Fit? It can't be otherwise when you carry equipment every day and use the stairs instead of the elevator. I would have gone with “worked out,” but I'm afraid Texas men don't compliment other men's asses like that.

“Do all the men in New York call their asses 'worked out'?” Ty asks, tilting his chin up a bit, trying his best not to smile.

Owen doesn't seem to understand the context and synonymic difficulties.

“Want to check it out?”

And yes, it's not a grown man talking again, but a disheveled boy who for some reason is always trying to prove to everyone that he's the best of the best, except that Ty doesn't really care that this is, in fact, another boastful “Look what I can do” and not an invitation. But who is he to say no to Captain Owen Strand himself, who seems serious about showing off his ass in the middle of the night just because someone doubted his, God forbid, elasticity.

“Well, if you're offering...”

Ty throws up his hands, looks directly into the blue eyes, which seem to be only now beginning to understand what he said, and feels something very similar to excitement. His stomach is in knots waiting for Owen's answer, and his skin feels like it's being doused with ice water. Yes, that's it, that's excitement. Ty has time to wonder why every conversation with Owen turns into a tense card game, if not a competition, when Owen throws his head back, twitching the corners of his lips. His gaze warms, but in a moment, where the fireplace's quiet, gentle flame had been, a raging flame erupts. Owen leans back on his elbows, looks intently into his eyes, and, squinting a little, says:

“Take off your jacket.”

Ty raises his eyebrows, thinking that Owen's challenge to him will come back to haunt them both in the near future, but he says out loud:

“Okay”

And throws his jacket on the floor.

***

Ty goes out into the yard in the early morning, sits on the stairs and lights up. The sun is shining thinly on the horizon, and the treetops are slowly swaying in the light wind. The door behind him opens almost inaudibly - Owen is more sensitive to smoke than any detector.

He sits down next to Ty on the top step without giving a word, purses his lips when he sees the cigarette clutched between Ty’s fingers and wraps himself tighter in his robe. Whether it's velvet or satin, Ty isn't sure, but it's definitely burgundy. Like the wine they uncorked around 2 am.

“What?” Owen asks, his voice raspy with sleep and alcohol, and coughs into his fist, frowning at his cigarette. “It was from my ex-girlfriend.”

“From her or her?” Ty asks again and takes another drag, feeling the smoke and laughter tickle his throat.

Owen shakes his head but smiles. He looks up to where the early birds are starting to chirp happily, letting everyone know that a beautiful new day has begun, and Ty can't even tell which is bluer: Owen's eyes or the sky.

“By the way, it's time to tell you that you were wrong,” Owen says without looking away.

“I was right,” Ty shrugs and shakes off the ashes on the rose bushes nearby, “You do have a skinny ass. But it's worked out, so you weren't lying.”

Owen presses his lips together, grimaces, and slaps him on the knee.

“I'm afraid I'll have to refrain from riding the bike for another week after this.”

Ty stubs out his cigarette and throws it into an empty seedling pot.

“Because a man should separate hobbies, work, and spiritual passions? ”

Owen presses his lips together thoughtfully and then nods.

“Exactly.” He leans over to Ty, kisses him briefly on the chin, scratching his skin with his fresh stubble, and adds, “But you could use some fresh air.”

Owen gets to his feet, rubs his long-suffering ass, and walks to the door, leaving Ty sitting on the stairs. The hem of his robe almost disappears behind the door when Owen turns around, points at him with an open palm, and explains:

“Beer. I'm still craving for beer. We tried everything last night except beer.”

Ty also stands up. He pulls up his jacket collar, turns to Owen, and sighs.

“This is where I admit defeat. You've definitely tried everything tonight more than I have.

Ty turns around, walks down the stairs, and crosses the cozy courtyard, thinking about what they will do and talk about when he comes back and rescues them both from a hangover.

Owen's motorcycle, parked next to his car and covered with a thick tarp, makes him smile and roll his eyes. He doesn't seem to have fully realized that this skinny-ass sparrow is now his problem.

But Ty doesn't mind.

(My original work is in Ukrainian and this is a translation. If you find any mistakes, feel free to correct me in comments or DM me on Twitter.)

[uozlulu]

IwtV AMC fic. May You Get What You Desire Is a Curse upon the Dead.

Character(s)/Relationship(s) Armand, Daniel, Fareed, Louis; Armand/Daniel Genre Drama/Horror/Romance/Slash/Vampire Rating PG-13 (unless you want to count language then R) Word Count 9,615 Disclaimer As this is fanfiction, I do not hold copyright to the source material(s) nor do I claim that I do. This is for free entertainment purposes only. Summary Daniel wants the creature with the glowing eyes and sharp fangs. Armand wants the mortal shaped by life. Mortality forces their hands. Warning(s) spoilers up through season 1 episode 7, spoilers from The Queen of the Damned, vampire attack, language, drug use, imprisonment, stalking, blood drinking, implied sexual content, set during the AIDS crisis, set during the COVID-19 pandemic, unhealthy relationships, non-explicit sexual content, brief mentions of murder by vampire attack, brief mention of cannibalism, mention of death, coronavirus infection, major character undeath Notes I’ve been thinking about desire a lot lately. It might be my supermodel supports car midlife crisis. These thoughts led me to the final Daniel POV scene of this fic, and then I kind of came up with the rest of it from there. I decided not to write a straight up lemon because I’ve been there, done that, and I didn’t feel like doing it again. Sorry about that for all of you who were hoping this would be more explicit. As per usual, I’m on my Armand is Alice BS, but this time Daniel scrambled his own brain.

This fic is set up with all of Daniel’s POV scenes being in the past and all of Armand’s POV scenes being in the present so I could alternate between their perspectives without the timeline getting confusing. I thought a linear presentation wasn’t the correct vibe for the fic considering it’s about wanting things and so forth rather than a chronological exploration. I also tried to change things up a little while nodding to the source material so that it could hopefully be a kind of AU to enjoy no matter what the show does when it gets to all these things.

As a heads up, I’ve watched the show only once, I read Interview about twenty years ago in university, I’ve read the Devil’s Minion chapter of The Queen of the Damned, and several excerpts from various books along with synopsizes. Some of what I know comes from having friends and acquaintances in the fandom since I was in middle school and being an active part of the TV fandom since last fall. Sorry if I miss something or misremember it. Luckily, the show’s theme is the odyssey of recollection so I feel like I have some wiggle room to vibe a bit especially since it changes some things up here and there itself.

AO3 link

Also posted below

         May You Get What You Desire Is a Curse upon the Dead      

It was the fall of 1972. Daniel had no time to react when Louis’ fangs sank into his neck. Daniel’s eyes widened. At first all he could process was the peeling wallpaper on the far wall over Louis’ shoulder. As pleasure began to swell, Daniel’s hands lifted, but he found no desire to struggle, to fight. He closed his eyes and his hands slowly lowered.

A door slammed open and an unnatural hiss filled the air. Cold hands shoved Daniel to the ground, ripping him from Louis’ jaws. Blood oozed from Daniel’s neck. His vision swam. His fingernails remained bitten and his teeth remained rounded. There was no transformation coming. He looked up just in time for Armand to force Louis across the room, both vampire’s fangs barred and eyes glowing.

‘Leave!’ a voice rang in Daniel’s mind and seemingly in his ears though no one spoke aloud. ‘Leave now!’

Daniel got to his feet, shoved his recorder into his pocket, and barreled out the front door, almost tripping on the stairs. Two and three story town houses rose up around him on both sides of the street, some painted dark and others light. They were all in varying states of disrepair. The occasional car sped by. Daniel touched his neck. It still bled. His knees wanted to buckle. He barely had time to register the front door opening before Armand stood beside him, dragging him by the arm to a small door on the same level of the town house as the bottom step.

“I thought you told me to leave,” Daniel tried to walk towards the street, but Armand’s grip was too steady and his strength too much to overcome.

Armand opened the door and urged Daniel inside. “Stay here until the blood stops. If they come looking for you, I will leave you to rot.” He shut the door and locked it.

Daniel rushed forward towards the door, but there did not seem to be a handle or hinges inside the room. There were no windows either. “Hey! Hey! What the fuck?!” He pounded on the door but there was no response. He tried shouting but again there was only silence. He could not even hear the occasional car speed by on their way home from the clubs.

Daniel reached into his pockets, finding only his recorder, condoms, matches, and the last of his acid. He cursed loudly. He must have left the interview mini-cassettes in the living room. So much for writing Louis’ memoir. Daniel sighed and lit a match to assess the room. The walls were stone and concrete. The door was metal. On the wall opposite the door there were wooden shelves holding a few canning jars filled with unidentifiable preserves. A skeleton lay slouched in a corner. The flames touched Daniel’s fingers and he dropped the match to the concrete floor and put it out. The room held some heat but it chilled with the night.

“Fuck this,” Daniel murmured and dropped acid.

The bite on his neck stopped bleeding before the trip ended. He lit a match to look at his watch but he could not be sure if was four hours or sixteen hours later. His stomach rumbled. He never should have sold his lighter. He lit another match and peered at the preserves. All of them looked like organ meat canned in garish pink or red liquid. His stomach rumbled. He did not have the luxury to abstain. He opened one of the jars. It smelled of strong, unidentifiable spices to enhance the deep red color. Daniel pulled the pickled meat apart with his fingers and tasted it.

“Christ.” He almost spit it out but willed himself to swallow. He tried another small piece and managed not to gag. He gave up on a third helping and closed the jar. He sat against the wall under the shelves and rubbed his face. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, there was a canteen of water near the door. He rushed forward and guzzled the water despite wanting to make it last. The more he drank, the more he became aware that the door was only barely open. Night breeze blew into the room. There was enough streetlight to see the canteen and the figure standing nearby, its eyes glowing orange in the darkness. Daniel almost choked on the water.

Armand stepped into the thin slice of streetlight. It made his brown skin glow the same orange as his eyes and made his dark curls almost shimmer a deep, dark amber. He titled his head and one eye caught more light than the other eye did as he assessed Daniel.

“Is this a ritual?” Daniel asked. He did not remember Louis mentioning starvation and the most disgusting offal known to man before Lestat turned him.

“No,” Armand said. “It’s a stay of execution.” He moved swiftly, standing just in front of Daniel in not even a blink of an eye. The backs of his fingernails skimmed the scabs at Daniel’s neck. “I can’t decide how to kill you.”

Daniel shivered. He should take a step back but he could not look away from Armand’s eyes and fangs. “You could kill me by turning me instead. You know, win-win…?”

Armand laughed, melodic but raspy, filling the room and Daniel’s stomach with echoes. “No. I won’t do that.” He leaned forward, his breath cold against Daniel’s face. “You will run and when I catch you, I’ll show you my choice.”

Armand’s fangs glistened in the dim light. Daniel swallowed and somehow found his legs. He pushed past Armand, running from the room. He raced down the street until he gave way to panting and nausea. He did not know where to go. His stomach rumbled. His throat felt dry despite the water He glanced over his shoulder. Armand’s eyes glowed down the street in the shadows. Daniel turned and fled.

~

It was the summer of 2022 in Dubai. A three-sided tower rose in the air amongst other skyscrapers. From two sides, it looked out across the sprawling city, and from its third side, the city gave way to the gulf glistening in the distance. Sunlight illuminated Armand’s skin but did not burn or heat it. All the windows except one protected any vampire in the building from its rays. Armand adjusted his gloves. He filed his nails to half their length and wore brown contacts. He slipped into Louis’ entourage without comment or incident. The disguise was Armand’s invention, but it was Louis’ suggestion to do a second interview since the first one never resulted in a memoir. As the sun faded from the sky, Armand heard the elevator whirr. If he needed to breathe, he might have held it.

Daniel entered the apartment. The lamplight clung to him, bringing out the white in his hair. His heart beat in Armand’s ears and his breath filled the air. His eyes caught the light and shone sharp and clear, focused on Louis and the upcoming interview. Armand stepped forward to shake Daniel’s hand. The touch traveled from Armand’s arm to his stomach effortlessly.

Daniel let go and immediately turned away, his attention still elsewhere.

Armand blinked. He flexed his fingers. The jolt in his stomach turned to a fire that spread throughout his body. His eyes fixed on the back of Daniel’s head. He could not process what Daniel and Louis said to one another. Daniel did not spare him another glance or another thought. It was a game! It had to be!

“Rashid,” Louis said and then repeated in a firmer tone, “Rashid.”

Armand blinked. He let the anger simmer. “Yes, sir.”

“Show our guest to his room,” Louis said and held Armand’s gaze a long moment.

Armand did not look away. “As you wish.” He picked up the bags and led the way through the penthouse. Daniel’s thoughts were as loud as ever hopping from food to Louis to the flight to the interview to the pandemic, and the interior of the penthouse. The distance between Armand and Daniel grew. Armand slowed his gait. Daniel’s arms did not move at his sides as he walked. Sometimes Daniel almost seemed to forget to blink. His thoughts continued, turning more towards jetlag and the interview than anything else.

“This is your room,” Armand said. He placed the bags inside near the bed neatly. “Do you require anything, Mr. Molloy?”

Daniel looked at him rather than through him this time. There was no flash of recognition. No twinge of memory. Not even a sign in Daniel’s mind of that ridiculous creature Daniel spoke of in his memoirs with the two toned eyebrows and hair dye instead of glowing orange eyes and brown contacts. Daniel nodded and said, “I don’t need anything.”

Armand opened his mouth and closed it. He needed to stay in character. “Of course,” he said and slipped from the room to escape deeper into the penthouse. The fire that once coursed through him quelled. There was no game. There was nothing. It was possibly worse than silence.

Armand slipped out onto one of the balconies. Clouds obscured and revealed the stars as they passed overhead. Armand stared at them until they blurred into a haze of red.

~

It was the spring of 1973. Orange eyes followed Daniel everywhere since leaving San Francisco. He traveled through the United States to Canada and on to Europe. His travels led him to Asia and his feet tonight led him to the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden in Tokyo. Thick heavy clouds covered the entire expanse of sky. It was after hours, but so far, Daniel had not encountered any guards or other trespassers. He slowed his walking and stared up at the cherry blossoms lit up on display. Their scent mingled with the threat of rain, and they fell to the ground with every pass of the breeze.

“Even on the run from a vampire you find time to admire vampires,” Armand said at Daniel’s side.

Daniel jumped. His heart beat in his ears. “Jesus!” He turned to face Armand.

Armand’s eyes did not glow, but his brown contacts caught the garden lights. “There’s no need to speak of Him right now.”

“I’m not…” Daniel took a few breaths and let his heart calm down. “I’m not really talking about Him.” He shifted his weight. This was his cue to escape once again, but his feet remained in the damp grass. He looked around them and then returned his attention to Armand. “The only vampire I see here is you.”

“Cherry trees are vampires.” Armand did not blink. His shoulders seemed almost too square. He smelled of blood and his skin was a pleasant, almost human shade of brown tonight. “They suck up blood at the roots. The more they suck, the deeper their color.” He leaned closer, his cool breath tickling Daniel’s ear as he spoke, “See that white one? It’s barely pink. It drinks like Louis thinks he does.” He paused and gestured to a tree with deep pink, almost red blossoms. “That one is like me. Full of blood.”

Daniel’s gaze did not leave Armand. He felt every whisper in his stomach. “Why the contacts?”

“Sometimes wolves know when to wear sheepskin,” Armand said.

“It’s nicer when you don’t,” Daniel said without thinking, but to his own surprise, he did mean it.

Armand stared at him unblinking. He removed the contacts and put them in a small container. His eyes glowed a deep orange.

Daniel smiled slowly. His heart beat a little faster, but it was different from when Armand startled him earlier. “And…the gloves. You should let your nails or claws or whatever they are breathe.”

The breeze rustled the trees and petals scattered. A hiss of rain drew closer. Armand stepped back. “The sun will rise soon.” He seemingly disappeared as the rain began to fall. Daniel lingered and then ran in the opposite direction, an almost emptiness blossoming in his chest.

~

It was only two days into the second interview. The sun disappeared and night overtook the sky but Louis was elsewhere in the tower and would not appear for a while. Daniel’s thoughts drew Armand out onto the balcony. Daniel stood beside a state of the art telescope; his glasses perched on his nose as he tried to discern what the controls meant and how to work the screen display. Armand noiselessly shut the door and walked deeper into the balcony. “Do you need assistance, Mr. Molloy?”

Daniel startled and he turned to face Armand. “Louis should put a bell around your neck.”

“Mr. de Pointe du Lac can always hear me.” Armand settled beside Daniel and began to work the controls of the telescope. Soon an image came up on the display of the clouds swirling across the sky, a planet peeking out between them every so often. Armand began to zoom.

“Which buttons are you using?” Daniel asked.

“These buttons.” Armand could feel the warmth radiating from Daniel’s body. Armand could take a step closer. He could come up with a ruse to touch Daniel. Yet, Armand’s body was much too cold and Rashid was much too aloof for such things. Armand kept his focus on the display.  Once he adjusted the view, he stepped to the other side of the telescope so Daniel could see the display clearly.

Daniel zoomed in until Saturn’s rings faintly appeared whenever the clouds parted. His mind radiated curiosity. He snorted lightly. “Alice loved this kind of stuff. We’d stay up to all hours while she studied all the planets, any star, whatever caught her attention.” He smiled. “She always wanted to see things, know things. She’d find insects and slice them open to look under microscopes. She’d made these hideous concoctions in the blender.” He shook his head. “One time she woke me from a dead sleep, demanding I call some idiot in Paris for her. She was an absolute menace.”

Armand licked his lips. Sand and beach spread out from Daniel’s mind, interweaving with Armand’s own memory. They were alone, the water slowly flowing to shore, with a telescope pointed at the heavens. It was hot and humid and sweat drenched Daniel’s body. Armand zoomed in on the planets clustered together. “It’s hard to believe Jupiter is so large when it’s also so tiny.”

Daniel laughed and the ocean breeze ruffled his hair. He wiped the sweat from his brow on his tank top. He took a drag on his joint and watched the smoke spiral up into the air. “Maybe scientists are just fucking with us.”

The memory shifted to Daniel’s perspective, but instead of Armand operating the telescope, a woman with the same brown skin but the most garish eyebrows stood in his place. She seemingly had no face, but slowly eyes appeared and glowed a bright, deep orange. Just before her visage could turn into Armand, the memory faded all together.

Armand blinked and found himself back on the balcony in Dubai, away from Daniel’s thoughts. The breeze from the gulf pushed Armand’s hair from his face. He sighed long and low.

“I know Louis probably sent you out here, but you don’t have to stay,” Daniel said. He changed the position of the telescope and zoomed in on a different planet. Letting his hands manipulate the telescope helped ease the tremors.

“I do what is asked of me,” Armand said. “I don’t question it.”

“For someone who claims to worship their boss as a god, you sure are hate your job,” Daniel said. He found the power button and shut down the telescope.

“My job isn’t the only thing on my mind,” Armand said.

Daniel held his gaze, questions spinning through his mind. “What else is there? I’ve never been in a cult of personality before.”

Armand smiled. “If you don’t need anything else, I should procure Mr. de Pointe du Lac’s next meal.”

“I guess vampires wouldn’t have some kind of chef for that,” Daniel murmured. He nodded more to himself than Armand. “I need to get ready for tonight.” He retreated to his room.

Armand watched him go, unable to look away or blink. He licked his lips and then headed to the kitchens. There was so much more to do than just find Louis’ animal of the night.

~

It was midwinter in 1974. Daniel was not sure what possessed him to travel to Norway even for the view. The snow was ever-present and it was frigidly cold. His hotel was cheap but warm. He woke slowly, his eyes fluttering open as he became increasingly aware of a weight on the bed near his feet. Pages flipped rapidly. Daniel let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Armand sat at the foot of Daniel’s bed, The Boys of Summer by Roger Kahn in his hands. His glowing eyes scanned the words at an alarming rate. He finished the last pages and cast the book to the other side of the foot of the bed carelessly.

“Evening to you too,” Daniel murmured. He sat up and rubbed his face. Slowly his brain spun to life and he froze, peering through his fingers at Armand. Armand was in his room. Armand was on his bed. This was a first. Daniel made a mental note to stop getting high before bed. Although perhaps locks were irrelevant to vampires.

“Why did they put a building on the cover if it was about people?” Armand asked.

“The Dodgers played at Ebbets Field back when they were in Brooklyn,” Daniel said.

“But they leave that place half way through the book,” Armand said. He shook his head. “Illustrations should tell you what you’re going to read.”

Daniel sighed. He rolled out of bed. “Gotta piss,” he murmured and escaped to the bathroom. He took his time and splashed his face with cold water. He spoke with Armand plenty of times in plenty of places. This was no different but also very different. He ran a finger along the bite scar Louis gave him. Maybe Armand made up his mind. Daniel shaved in the off chance Armand decided to turn him. He returned to the room, finding the curtains open and Armand standing in the moonlight. It illuminated his skin, highlighting its discoloration from hunger.

Daniel could not look away. He licked his lips. “Did you decide how to kill me?”

Armand smiled. “You haven’t run away yet.”

“I’m not running until I see the lights.” Daniel started packing his bag. “Otherwise what was the point of freezing my ass off?” He reached for his coat and then stopped. A warm, beautiful black wool coat rested where he hung his threadbare jacket last night. “Whose…?”

“It’s yours,” Armand said. “Put it on.”

Daniel did so. When he put his hands in the pockets, he found gloves and money he did not have last night. He looked at Armand and then pulled his hands from the pockets.

“Let’s go,” Armand said. “I want to hunt.”

They entered the city. Armand disappeared from Daniel’s side. Daniel sighed. He chose a hotel close enough to the outskirts of the city that a short hike brought him well away from the city lights. Armand reappeared at Daniel’s side, his face a more human shade of brown now. They made their way out of the city until the northern lights overtook the sky.

Daniel’s breath condensed around him. Armand never once breathed. The lights shivered and spread across the sky, creating patterns and shapes that almost defied imagination.

Daniel inhaled snow and blood. He moved closer to Armand. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Temperatures mean nothing to my kind,” Armand said.

Daniel took one of Armand’s bare hands and pressed it between his gloved hands. Even through the fabric, Armand’s hand felt like ice. It slowly warmed under Daniel’s touch but never became as warm as it must have been in life. Daniel traced the curve of one of Armand’s nails with his finger. He looked up at Armand, finding Armand staring at him unblinking. Daniel’s eyes moved along the folds of Armand’s scarf to the shirts under his heavy coat. Daniel snorted and let go of Armand’s hand. “You wear a lot of layers for a guy who’s ambivalent to cold.”

Armand touched his warmer hand with his other hand, feeling the change in temperature before his skin could lose its borrowed warmth. “I like fashion.”

“You’re wearing bell bottoms,” Daniel said.

“I liked the color, so I ate the owner,” Armand said.

Daniel’s fingers ran along the lapel of his coat. He sniffed the fabric. It smelled faintly of blood. “Did you eat mine too?”

“How else does a vampire acquire clothing?” Armand asked.

Daniel’s fingers slipped away from the lapel. He did not remove the coat. It was much too cold for a moral dilemma.

When they returned to the city, Armand disappeared. Daniel sighed and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. He needed to move on so he could see Armand again.

~

It was early afternoon in Dubai hours before the fifth session of the interview. Armand noiselessly settled at the foot of Daniel’s bed while Daniel slept. He watched Daniel’s chest rise and fall with each breath. Armand counted each heartbeat, the inconsistent rhythm a steady warning. Fareed helped Armand devise a serum of diluted vampire blood to combat Daniel’s ailments, but it seemed as ineffective as the modern medicine supplied alongside it. How long until Daniel could no longer swallow? How long until Daniel stopped breathing? How long until Daniel’s heart decided to upset everything? How long until Daniel died?

A shiver ran through Armand. His jaw tightened. He should have objected more when Louis suggested the interview. He should have let Daniel languish in New York far away from Armand’s eyes and ears. Even then, Armand might have crossed that ocean. Even then, he might have spied on Daniel through the windows of Daniel’s home. Perhaps he always would have been perched on the foot of the bed watching Daniel sleeping right now.

Armand probed Daniel’s mind, finding the dreams shallow and distorted. Slowly a dream of a yellow room with too many chickens gave way to speeding through Paris on a scooter. Daniel clung to a man with no face. Armand could still remember driving that scooter, the breeze passing over them as they sped home. Armand’s memory replaced the dream in Daniel’s mind. Daniel’s body seemed to relax as the change dragged him deeper to sleep. It did not ease the tension in Armand’s shoulders.

When the memory faded, Daniel drew a ragged breath and then his eyes opened. He stared at Armand, still tired. Armand stared back at Daniel and did not blink.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?!” Daniel hissed as if whispering it would not alert Louis despite Daniel’s mind freaking out very loudly. Any vampire in Dubai could probably hear it.

“Whatever you want,” Armand said. “It’s your dream.” It was very much not a dream.

Daniel eyed him. He sat up slowly and flexed his hands several times to ease the tremors before putting on his glasses. “I’m not easily manipulated, Rashid. Dreams don’t hurt this much.”

“Of course it’s a dream.” Armand slowly pulled off his gloves, one finger at a time, and offered his hands towards Daniel.

Daniel ran the tip of his finger along one of Armand’s filed nails. His eyes shifted to Armand’s face. “But you’re not a vampire. Your eyes don’t glow.”

“Not in the waking world.” Armand leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of Daniel’s hips and one of his knees between Daniel’s legs. “It’s a dream,” Armand repeated, allowing the Mind Gift to add weight to the statement. He leaned back on his legs and removed his contacts, lowering his gaze as he cast the case casually towards the foot of the bed. His raised his gaze to Daniel.

“You…” Daniel’s voice trailed. His heart rate increased. He held his breath and then swallowed. For a moment, several memories of Daniel admiring Armand’s eyes flashed through his mind.

Armand leaned forward and placed a kiss to the bite scar along Daniel’s neck, letting his lips linger. “Sleep, beloved,” he said quietly.

Daniel immediately laid down, dragging Armand with him. Armand placed his ear against Daniel’s chest and listened to his heart’s ominous beat. Armand would have to leave soon to prepare Daniel’s treatment, but he did not sit up and instead pressed a cold hand against Daniel’s warm skin until he almost could not feel a difference in their temperature. He peered into Daniel’s dreams, but there was nothing to see, Daniel’s sleep was too shallow.

Armand’s fingers curled and his nails almost nicked flesh. His jaw tightened. He slowly sat up and retrieved his disguise before slipping from the room.

~

It was the spring of 1974. Daniel walked through the ruins of Pompeii well after sunset. Everything was wet and chilly but the rain would not return for a few days. Despite roaming openly through the ruins, he had yet to meet a guard. This was his fourth day in Naples, the longest he spent somewhere since he began his game with Armand. He had enough money to leave, but he chose to stay.

The breeze died and the humidity climbed. Daniel meandered up a road that led to the top of a hill. Ruined buildings lined the dark streets. All light came from the full moon. Someone moaned from between the buildings. Daniel followed the noise and arrived just in time to watch Armand cast a dead body into the dark recesses of what once was a shop or perhaps a home. Blood dripped from his fangs. Armand licked away every last drop of blood and removed his contacts.

Daniel did not look away. His heart beat in his ears, but its beat was a steady throbbing, rather than errant, flighty beats.

Armand did not blink. Neither of them moved. There was no sign of anyone else in the ruins. “You’ve stopped running,” Armand said.

“I have,” Daniel said. “I’m done running. It’s up to you. Turn me, kill me, fuck me – whatever you want.”

Silence passed. Ghosts seemed to press down upon them. The moon continued to rise, spreading more light.

“Turn you? Kill you?” Armand shook his head. “Never.” In a blink of an eye, he crossed the distance between them. His gloved hands slid along Daniel’s face. “We’re well past that.”

Daniel leaned into the touch. He inhaled the smell of blood and death. His heart continued to pound like prom night. He reached up, removing Armand’s hands from his face so he could free them from the gloves. “I want you. I love you.” He dropped the gloves to the ground.

Armand moved even closer. Their torsos almost touched. His hands returned to Daniel’s face, his nails slid through Daniel’s hair. He grinned at Daniel’s shiver, his fangs catching the moonlight. “You beautiful, foolish boy. You are mine.”

“I am yours,” Daniel agreed. His breath caught when Armand bit him, his fangs sliding right into the mark Louis left years before, a fresh warning for other vampires. Daniel gripped Armand’s hips and closed his eyes, shuddering with each draw of blood. Daniel waited for his body to transform.

Armand drew back and his fangs seemed to retreat. He swallowed and used his nails to rip a vein along his own neck. “I’m not turning you either. Drink,” he said, “and we will never part.”

Daniel watched the blood ooze from the wound, sliding and pooling along Armand’s skin. It smelled more fragrant than blood should. Daniel could not help but lick it, finding it just as sweet and thick as he imagined and warmer than he anticipated. Daniel sucked from the wound until the blood clotted. A warmth filled Daniel from inside out, warmer than any alcohol. His mind seemed to buzz faster than any stimulant and his nerves calmed quicker than any opiate. He gasped for breath and drew Armand into a kiss, pressing their bodies flush against one another. Armand’s hands slipped under Daniel’s shirt. Daniel pulled Armand’s shirt over his head. The rest of their clothes followed. Daniel’s legs hit the top of an overturned stone. He pulled Armand down with him. They took each other on the stone of ghosts with the moon as their only witness.

~

It was a week into the second interview. Louis gave the signal, Armand revealed himself, and Louis proclaimed him the love of his life. Daniel stared at them for a long moment, his thoughts filling the air, loud and cacophonous before taking a step back and saying, “Fuck this.” His eyes shone sharp and true as they shifted between Armand and Louis. “And fuck you – both of you.” Anger bubbled up from within, projecting from Daniel like a radiant aura. He grabbed his things and shoved them into his bag as indiscriminately as a computer bag might allow.

“The intent was to deceive,” Louis said, “because I couldn’t trust myself without Armand present.”

“Then you should have just written him into the contract. ‘No third parties’ my ass.” Daniel tried to wrap his cord in a semblance of a circle. He gave up and shoved it into its pocket in his bag.

“But that’s not why you’re actually angry,” Louis said and his lips quirked into a small smirk.

Daniel shut his bag. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Louis asked. “It’s not Armand’s presence you’re mad about, it’s who he is.”

Daniel glanced at Armand briefly. His attention returned to Louis. He shouldered his bag. “I’m out. Keep your money.” He left for his room to get the rest of his things.

Armand said nothing and followed Daniel. He entered Daniel’s room noiselessly.

Daniel’s hands shook terribly. He stood over his unopened suitcase, flexing his hands, trying to encourage the tremors to ease, but more than just Parkinson’s drove the tremors. He glowered over at the doorway. “Out.”

“You know you couldn’t meet with him alone,” Armand said.

“You also said you wouldn’t save my life this time,” Daniel said. “Like I can even remember you saving me a first time.” He opened his suitcase. His clean clothes were inside and folded. He started adding things he took out for various reasons to the suitcase, his movements slow. “Probably because you did something to my memories.”

“I didn’t,” Armand said.

“Bullshit!” Daniel paused in his packing. “I started remembering some things. I remember you at the bar. I remember something about a locked room. You were the person driving that scooter in Paris. I got high, we drank each other’s blood…” his voice trailed. He looked at Armand. “Someone’s fucked with my memories. I really doubt it was the vampire with a guilty eating conscience. I want my real memories back.”

That made two of them. Armand’s gaze followed Daniel as Daniel retrieved the last things from the room. “I don’t know if I can fix them.”

Daniel stopped packing. He walked closer to Armand. “You took them. You can give them back.”

“What makes you think I took them?” Armand ran his thumb along the side of his opposite hand.

“Every memory I had of Alice is turning into a memory of you. You’ve got Louis locked up in some gray garden where he can’t even reach the books he claims to love. You guys say you’re here to keep Louis from doing something he’ll regret, but I wonder if you’re actually here to keep him from telling the truth.” Daniel did not look away.

“Louis tells the story he chose. I don’t have any sway in it,” Armand said. “When you went to rehab, you never returned! How could I steal all your memories if you left and never came back?!”

“You could have done it before I checked myself in!” Daniel said. “The only memories I have that feel real anymore are from before I met you and after rehab!”

“Do you think I wanted this?!” Armand’s fangs appeared. “Do you think I wanted you to look through me? To ignore me? To treat me like this?! I thought you would recognize me! I thought you’d take my gloves off and tell me you missed my eyes!”

Daniel paused. His gaze moved from the glowing eyes to the fangs to the long nails. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and growled in frustration. “Then why Alice? Why didn’t I remember you as you until two nights ago?!”

“I don’t know!” Armand moved about the room, unable to stay still. “Even when I peer inside, I can’t fix it! Fareed’s drugs can’t fix it! Nothing fixes it!”

Daniel rubbed his face. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm the tremors in his hands, but his whole body seemed to shake instead. “What have you even tried?! When did you try anything?! I think I’d remember Rashid sticking his hands on my face trying to manipulate my mind!”

Armand crossed the room before Daniel could even blink. He pressed his fingers to Daniel’s face. Daniel’s blood pumped under Armand’s fingers and warmed Armand’s skin slightly. “Stay still,” Armand hissed.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Daniel murmured, but he obeyed.

Fragments of memories filtered through Daniel’s mind. Armand tried to catch the pieces and match them to places, scenery, colors, incidents – anything. No matter what he found, no matter what he connected, nothing felt complete. Nothing felt whole. Even with Alice disappearing, Armand found himself faceless in Daniel’s mind. Armand’s fingers slid down Daniel’s face, one of his filed nails leaving a mark without drawing blood. Blood stung Armand’s eyes. He turned away and hissed, long and low.

Daniel frowned. His mind spun, projecting snippets of memory, questions, and thoughts. He sighed. “We can work on this. If I leave, then I get nothing. But, I swear if you two keep fucking with me, fuck my memories, I’m on a plane home.”

Armand wiped the blood from his eyes. He kept his back to Daniel. Daniel’s heart beat in his ears like a timer. He could heard Daniel unpacking. They only had a week before Daniel would pack for real.

~

It was late spring in 1979. Two years ago Daniel and Armand started living in Greenwich Village, making periodic trips abroad on Armand’s whims. They hopped from apartment to apartment, filling each with clothing, kitchen gadgets, slides of insects and other creatures sliced into different pieces, never to return once they left the city. Tonight was chilly and smog obscured the moon. Armand latched onto Daniel’s arm as they left the theater and began to sing the songs from Sweeny Todd: Demon Barber of Fleet Street. No one else on the sidewalk paid them much mind, too drugged, drunk, or busy to care. When the singing ended, Daniel looked over at Armand. “Was it really like that back then? Did they get the outfits right?”

“I don’t know.” Armand moved closer. “I don’t think about time like that. It’s too big, too tangled. I need a specific date.”

Daniel thought a long moment. “January 2, 1850. What happened? What was it like?”

Armand did not answer immediately. His contacts obscured his eyes and the whir of his mind. “I was in Paris. There was so much snow that some bridges stopped working. We put on a show and snatched the first family to enter the theater. We ate them in front of a full audience. A woman died in the front row of fright.”

“So you guys were eating people as a play back then too?” Daniel asked.

“Mortals love the macabre,” Armand said. “The actors could have really baked people into pies onstage tonight and the audience would have reacted with the same enthusiasm.”

Daniel frowned. Would he have noticed if the musical was really a snuff piece instead of pretend? Would he have noticed real cannibalism? The part of Armand’s arm not covered by glove or sleeve brushed Daniel’s skin. It enhanced how cold Armand felt at Daniel’s side. Daniel inhaled the faint smell of blood, death, and cologne. He swallowed and looked away, catching their reflections in a dark store window. Daniel blinked and slowed his pace. Armand slowed and looked at Daniel. Daniel’s gaze remained fixed on their reflections. Both of them did not look like teenagers. Both of them had no signs of wrinkles. They wore expensive clothing like some high-powered young professional couple on a night out after work. Daniel ran his tongue along his teeth. He could still remember looking at their reflections in other storefronts back when Armand looked noticeably older. If Daniel became a vampire now, they would look the same age forever.

“I will not.” Armand let go of Daniel’s arm and stepped away.

“I didn’t ask.” Daniel followed.

“You were thinking it,” Armand hissed a warning.

“Then stay out of my head if you don’t like hearing what I want,” Daniel hissed back.

“Your thoughts are too loud to ignore.” Armand’s pace quickened.

Daniel tried to catch up. “Look, I’m sorry. I just… I want to be at your side like this forever. I want to be your equal. I don’t know why that’s such a bad thing.”

“Because it won’t be like this!” Armand turned to face him. “The Dark Gift is never like this! I won’t damn you! I won’t curse you! You’re beautiful! You’re human! Embrace that!”

Daniel’s heartrate increased with Armand’s intensity. He could almost see Armand’s eyes flash behind the brown contacts. He could almost see Armand’s fangs catch the streetlight. “You’re beautiful too, you know. There’s beauty in the undead.”

Armand eyed Daniel and then turned away from him. “I’m going to hunt. I’ll return before dawn.”

Before Daniel could say anything more, Armand disappeared into the shadows. Daniel peered into the dark corners of the night, but saw nothing. He ran a hand through his hair and took a detour to buy drugs before heading home.

~

It was the ninth day of the interview. Sunlight streamed into Daniel’s room. Armand’s eyes barely glowed in the bright light. He set a tray of water, medicine, and a syringe on the desk. Daniel watched him from the window, his body bathed in the sunlight. It was difficult for Armand to look away.

“I doubt you’re medically trained,” Daniel murmured.

“Fareed showed me how to do the injection.” Armand poured the water into the glass on the tray. He arranged the pills neatly on their china plate.

Daniel walked over. He took his pills slowly, almost choking towards the end. He put a hand on his chest and Armand gently hit him between the shoulders. It was firm enough to help. Daniel shut his eyes, took a few breaths, and then groaned quietly. “I’d say, ‘Never get old,’ but too late.”

“I’ll let Rashid know.” Armand checked the syringe. He could smell his diluted blood inside it even before he removed the sterile cap over the needle. “Fix your sleeve.”

Daniel pushed up his short sleeve. He did not flinch when Armand injected the blood serum into his muscle. “I’ve been dreaming about living in a mall. I don’t think I’m homeless in the dreams.”

“It was our home.” Armand set the used syringe back on the tray. “You owned it along with the island.”

Daniel lowered his sleeve and settled into a chair. “If I owned an island I wouldn’t have had to start college funds for my kids.”

“You still own it,” Armand said. “It wasn’t mine to sell.”

“Where is it?” Daniel watched Armand.

“Off the coast of Miami.” Armand stood in front of the desk.

Daniel stared at him a long moment. “Night Island? That abandoned tourist trap? That place my daughter almost died trying to parkour in college?”

“I don’t know its current state. I haven’t been there since you left.” Armand ran his thumb along his opposite hand.

Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed together. He leaned forward and tried to think, tried to remember. Palm trees, night skies, fresh sea air, shouts and cries echoing through ample atriums projected from his mind punctuated by garbled synthesizer music. These thoughts gave way to advertisements for documentaries trying to probe how such a mall could shutter so quickly at the height of its popularity.

Armand stepped forward and rested his fingers on Daniel’s forehead, allowing his thumbs to rub small circles against his temples. He tried to encourage whatever memories he could find, no matter how small the fragment or distorted the image.

Daniel closed his eyes and did not move his head from Armand’s touch. Memories flowed from him in fleeting flashes. Orange eyes, warm nights, vicious fights, the cars that would collect them, the texture of the sheets of their bed. “Your hands are always cold. You always smell of blood.”

“You used to like it,” Armand said.

There was a long pause and an internal debate before Daniel spoke, “I still do.”

Armand let his fingers slide down and away from Daniel’s face. Daniel opened his eyes and gazed up at Armand. Even if his long-term memory was in pieces, his gaze was still strong, still curious, always thinking. Armand leaned down and Daniel’s mind projected doubt.

“You worry you’re not the boy I once loved,” Armand said, his breath against Daniel’s ear.

Daniel shivered and swallowed. “I know I’m not.”

“No one is who they used to be,” Armand said. His settled onto the chair, kneeling so he straddled Daniel’s lap.

Daniel’s gaze returned to Armand. “I’m soft and saggy. I’m not the kid you used to lead around naked by a leash.”

“You remember that?” Armand mouthed along Daniel’s neck, purposefully denying his teeth.

“Almost wish I didn’t.” Daniel shivered and his hands rested on Armand’s hips. His doubt faltered when Armand ran his teeth along his neck but did not bite just yet.

Armand bit Daniel’s ear, not using his fangs yet, feeling Daniel’s grip tighten. “You are mine, my beautiful foolish boy,” Armand said against his skin. “If your body could stop me, you would not be here.” He bit Daniel right on the bite mark, taking only a few sips, letting the mark fester anew as a sign to any vampire to stay away from Daniel.

Daniel moaned. When Armand kissed him, he returned it without hesitation. The kiss broke so Daniel could breathe. A second kiss became a third and a fourth. Clothes found their way to the floor. Blood oozed. The chair groaned in time with their motions. It sang with their moans. The sun continued to shine.

~

It was the summer of 1984. The grand finale of the fireworks display in Chicago finished erupting along Lake Michigan. The crowd of onlookers surrounding Daniel on Navy Pier began to disperse as the smoke began to fade. Daniel’s stomach rumbled. Gloved fingers pressed against his back with no warning or noise. Daniel felt tears come to his eyes but they did not fall. “Hey, boss,” he said very quietly.

“Tears after you insisted on leaving for good?” Armand asked. “Where’s your resolve? Perhaps I should have given you more time to find it.”

“I’m sorry.” Daniel wiped at his eyes. “I woke up that morning and flaked.”

“As you have five times already.” Armand’s cool breath tickled Daniel’s ear. “Are you going to again? Don’t you tire of it?”

Daniel shivered. “My beard’s turning gray. I’ve got these lines on my face. It’s too much.”

“Many would envy such things.” Armand’s hand remained firm at Daniel’s back, a tether, a chain. “You should not fear them.”

Daniel did not envy it at all. He sighed. “I can’t even string five words together anymore.” His jaw tightened. “I can’t remember the last time I turned in an article. I can’t remember the last time I got more than a page typed. I’m spinning my wheels.”

“Then write your articles on the computer,” Armand said. “Work when I sleep.”

“All I end up doing is hacking and pushing money around,” Daniel said. “I don’t want to do that for the rest of my life.”

Armand moved so they faced each other. His hands rested on Daniel’s hips. The crowd continued to thin. No one spared them a second look. He reached up and ran his fingers through Daniel’s hair. Daniel leaned into the touch. Blood, death, and a faint scent of cologne filled Daniel’s nose. His heart beat faster and he swallowed. Armand kissed his face, his lips cold, inviting. Daniel swallowed again. “I want to go home.” He was not sure where ‘home’ was but he knew Armand would at least return him to Night Island. That would have to do once again for now.

“Alright, beloved,” Armand’s hand grasped the back of Daniel’s neck, a gloved thumb caressing all it could touch. His fangs caught the light, a promise for later. “But if you run away for good again, I can’t promise I will find you.”

“Isn’t that our game?” Daniel asked.

“It was once,” Armand slowly released Daniel’s neck. He led the way to the waiting car. Daniel followed. Once inside, Armand allowed him a drink.

~

It was twelve days since the start of the second interview. There were no more diaries to read. The narration left post-war Paris and headed towards Louis and Armand’s reconciliation in the sixties. Armand sat in one of the chairs in the sitting room and edited a video on his iPad. Louis’ voice suddenly trailed mid-sentence. Armand glanced up and followed his gaze, becoming aware of an unsteady heartbeat gaining speed.

Daniel sat on the sofa. He leaned forward with his arms on his thighs. His head bowed, almost obscuring the flush across his cheeks. His chest worked for each breath. The insides of his arms were pink and almost splotchy, highlighting a series of inflamed nerves.

“Daniel,” Louis said, and repeated the name in a firmer voice.

Daniel’s gaze shifted from the floor to Louis. His eyes were far away. He swallowed and nodded. “Right. Right….” He glanced at the notes on his screen. His mind could not focus. His hands tremored more than normal. His face seemed to become redder. His brain repeated a question to himself that he could not seem to answer.

“We should end here for tonight,” Louis said.

Daniel did not object. He closed his laptop without much thought and started putting things in his interview bag. He coughed a few times, dry and hacking. Daniel bid them goodnight and headed to his room. Armand followed.

Daniel barely entered the room when he began to cough again. The bag slipped from his shoulder and he leaned against the corner of his desk. When the coughing spell ended, he seemed more exhausted than anything else. He glanced over at Armand. “What happened to privacy?”

“Can you balance if you let go of the desk?” Armand asked.

Daniel rolled his eyes and let go of the desk. He was unsteady on his feet, but he sat on the chair before he could fall. “I’m sick. It happens.”

Armand helped divest Daniel of his clothes. Daniel shivered with chills and got into bed without protest. He groaned as only a fever could muster. “I’ll be fine in the morning. You don’t have to hover.” He coughed again, still dry and hacking.

Armand glanced out the windows. It was still night and the sun would not rise for hours. He looked back at Daniel. Daniel’s eyes were closed and his breathing still rough as his mind ached for sleep. Armand pressed a finger to Daniel’s hot temple and eased him as deep to sleep as Armand dared. A weight settled in Armand’s stomach. How many plagues did Armand witness? How many people did he watch succumb to something as simple as a cough? How many faces turned blue? How many stared upwards with unblinking eyes when the end came? He could not remembered feeling such weight before in those crises. Even during the blood plague decades ago, Armand always found Daniel alive and without illness. This time….

Armand did not wish to finish the thought. He curled up on a chair and tapped the screen of his iPad back to life. He began to devour anything he could read on this new plague as he had when he first learned of Parkinson’s. Information conflicted. The governments of the world had things to gain. It was like any other plague but somehow less clear.

Daniel’s coughing grew more frequent as night became day and his mind quieted. Armand remained at his side.

~

It was the fall of 1985. “Hotel California” played on an endless loop in Daniel’s mind. Here he was yet again on the balcony of the penthouse on Night Island after vowing to leave and find a way to live as himself again. “Blue Monday” by New Order echoed from the open atriums below. Sometimes shouts and laughter drifted up to his ears. Daniel sighed and retreated into the penthouse. He returned three days ago. He already wanted to leave again. If he left, he would only return. He always returned for Armand, for his blood. The thought made Daniel’s stomach rumble.

He passed by a small table and then stopped. A white envelope sat upon it, his name written in strangely familiar script along with a stamp and postmark. Daniel looked around, but there was no one nearby and Armand still slept. He could not remember the last time he received anything by mail.

He carefully opened the envelope and read the letter. It was from the most legendary tomboy in his entire high school. Her handwriting looked almost the same as it did the last time they traded papers to grade them in class. Daniel slowly sat on the floor. He read the letter a second time. The first boy he ever kissed, the boy he might have run away from home for, had the boy not moved away, was dead. The tomboy was a nurse now and helped care for people suffering from AIDS. She thought Daniel might want to know about their classmate’s death.

Daniel heard of AIDS, but he had not paid attention. It was hard to focus and care about current events while trying to untangle himself from Armand and his vampire blood. Daniel stared at the letter until tears threatened. He averted his gaze to the ceiling for a long moment and then rose from the floor. He found the latest edition of the local newspaper, but it had no articles. All others newspapers he could find were the same. He was behind everyone. The world likely moved on years ago without a reason to care about a virus targeting mostly gay men. Daniel folded the letter, put it in his pocket, and headed for the ferry. When he reached the shore, he headed to the University of Miami’s medical library. The girl at the desk mistook him for a professor. He did not correct her.

He gained access to every newspaper and journal article he could find on microfiche. He took notes in a small notebook he always kept in his pocket after his recorder broke years ago. There was not enough information. He needed to go to New York or San Francisco. Even then, he was not sure how much information he could gain. The current administration appeared to be deliberately making everything worse on purpose. Daniel searched until his eyes crossed and his glasses hurt the bridge of his nose. The librarian told him the library would close soon. Daniel gathered his notes and stepped out into the warm Miami night. He stared up at the moon for a long moment. He had to break the cycle. He had to get away from Night Island for good. He had no more excuses.

Daniel looked down the sidewalk. Orange eyes watched him from a distance, drawing slowly closer. Armand never blinked. He stared at Daniel, blood drying on his chin. Daniel’s eyes fixed on the blood. He took a deep breath. “I’m going to check into the hospital.” He paused. “I’m leaving.”

Armand continued to draw closer, each movement deliberate, slow, and light. “So you can call crying to come home in a few weeks?”

Daniel licked his lips. His breath hitched and then he cleared his throat. He met Armand’s gaze. “Forever. You win. I’m going to live my life. I’m going to give up on immortality.”

“You can give up on immortality and stay with me,” Armand said. “Isn’t that what you want? To be at my side forever?”

“Not like this! I’m not a toy! I’m not a pet! Either make me your equal or let me go!” Daniel pointed at himself. “I’m thirty-fucking-three! I’m not a boy anymore! My best friend just died of fucking AIDS and I’m sitting on an island in the middle of Miami Bay like the world’s biggest asshole!”

Armand hissed. “If you leave, you’ll catch that blood plague! You’ll die of an overdose! What if you run so far I can’t find you in time?! Stay on the island!”

“Whether I stay on the island or die in a ditch, I’m going to die! That’s what humans do! We die!” Daniel said. “I could fall off the penthouse balcony drunk off my ass and die tomorrow!”

Blood gathered along the corners of Armand’s eyes and threatened to fall down his face.

“Don’t,” Daniel said. “I mean it. I’m going to go to rehab. I’m going to forget how to drink your blood. I’m going to stay sober this time. I’m going to kick the government’s ass. You’ll turn on the television someday and they’ll be thanking me for this.”

“Then… Then go!” Blood trailed down Armand’s face. “Live your life and when you die, don’t expect me to appear!”

Daniel felt that hitch in his chest again. He hesitated and then he remembered the letter and the articles he read. “Hotel California” threatened to start playing in his mind again. He licked his lips. “Goodbye, Armand.” He slowly retreated down the sidewalk, heading for the main hospital entrance. When he looked over his shoulder, orange eyes glowed in the shadows, following his every move until Daniel disappeared into the building. As he stepped through the doors, he began concocting a story to tell about an ex-wife with eccentric tendencies and no mention of vampires at all.

~

It was seventeen days since the second interview began. It was five days since the interview stopped. Armand transformed Daniel’s room in Dubai into a hospital room. Daniel lay on his stomach in a hospital bed. Fareed’s trusted associates tended to him and machines monitored his condition. A ventilator sent a rhythmic hiss into the room every time it repeated its cycle. Louis said the sound was inescapable in other parts of the penthouse and the tower. Armand did not know. He had not left Daniel’s room since this began.

“Vampire blood, like all other treatments, is too experimental to know its success rate,” Fareed said as he finished checking Daniel’s progress. “He should be at Medeor.”

“Can we even move him now?” Louis asked.

“I wouldn’t advise it,” Fareed said. “You should have sent him there when the symptoms first developed.”

Armand heard their words but said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on Daniel. Daniel’s heart pounded in his ears. Each cough seemingly rattled his mind.

Time passed and grew irrelevant. Armand did not dare leave the room. He ate what victims Louis brought him. When Armand dared to sleep, he took Daniel’s hand. The sun spread across the room and retreated as it cycled. The machined continued to sound.

One night, the waning moon climbed into the sky. There was no one else but Armand and Daniel in the room. The machines sang their noises and then Daniel stopped breathing. It was only for a second. The cadence of his heart changed with it. Armand straightened and peered into Daniel’s dreams.

Everything was a bright, deep, dark red. The dream oozed almost into a puddle at Armand’s feet. Daniel stood motionless in the center, staring at the deterioration in an almost daze, his concept of himself varying widely. Sometimes Daniel was in his seventies, sometimes he was in his thirties, sometimes he was a child, and all ages in-between sometimes simultaneously. He looked to Armand with ever changing eyes and then his mouths formed the first syllable of, “Goodbye.”

Armand fled the dream. He loomed over Daniel as the monitors began to shriek. He ripped Daniel from their grasp and drew him into his lap before sinking his fangs into the bite scar. Armand drank until only enough blood remained.

Daniel’s body began to convulse as transformation overtook it. His hand reached up to remove the ventilation mask. Armand stripped it away and barely registered Fareed’s team arriving only to immediately leave upon understanding what happened.

Daniel’s eyes fluttered open, shades of purple and amethyst overtaking blue. He gazed up at Armand and rasped, “What did you do?”

“You know what I did,” Armand said. “You can smell it. You can feel it. You can hear it.” Blood slid down Armand’s cheeks. He could not look away from his creation.

Daniel slowly sat up. Armand continued to hold him. The hand that wiped Armand’s tears continued to lose all its warmth and shook almost imperceptibly. Like Louis’ depression, vampire blood could not fully heal problems of the brain. Silence permeated the room. It echoed through Armand’s body as his tears slowly subsided.

   The End  

[fordreviews]

📽️ Doc Hollywood (1991)

This was a side of Michael J. Fox that I wasn’t expecting, although I admit the only other movie of his I’ve seen is Back to the Future so that’s not a lot to go off of. This movie made me smile a lot. Yes, it’s corny and predictable, but it’s also enjoyable and fun. It was also a treat to see a young Woody Harrelson 😅 I really liked this one!

Sex/nudity: 5/10 (many sexual references, kissing, a pretty long scene with several frontal shots of a topless woman)

Language: 5/10 (three f-words, many other curse words, I’m very surprised it’s only rated PG-13)

Violence: 1/10 (a couple injuries seen in the doctor’s office)

Overall rating: 7/10

[yoonia]

the bedroom hymns ● chapter x

⟶ Chapter summary | At last, you have finally found the way to continue to explore more places rather than only finding your way back to your old home. As you spread your wings to enjoy your newfound freedom, you unexpectedly find yourself crossing paths with another lost wanderer, whose presence seem to spark your empty soul and bring it back to life.  

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling au⟶ Word count | 7,2k words⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; magic/dark magic, mention of stalking, criminal act. 

⟶ Story Masterlist | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

chapter x. wanderers-1

As someone who appears to be quite oblivious to your own safety, you are still quite hard to track down and follow. 

This thought runs through Yoongi’s head as he threads his way through the market, finding trouble in following your movement as you expertly weaves through the people, delivery carts, and even the stalls. 

As if you are used to slipping into the crowd of people while making sure to remain unnoticed by everyone around you. 

If only that would have been the case with some other people as well. People like himself and the cloaked men who appear to be moving within your shadows because they all noticed your presence. 

Yoongi curses under his breath as he nearly bumps against a burly guard standing in front a nearby drugstore, almost failing to notice the massive guy who was guarding the store while he has been keeping his eyes closely on you. He just cannot afford to look away, albeit briefly, despite risking another collision with an innocent bystander and drawing attention through his recklessness. 

He has learned his mistakes after the previous encounters he had with you. Even when he wasn’t chasing you directly the way he is doing it now, he still cannot shake off the memories of you suddenly vanishing into thin air just when he was finally able to track you down. All he needed to do was to blink, or glance away briefly, anything that he would do to allow you to slip out of his sight, and you were suddenly gone. 

But the risk of losing you is greater now that he senses danger coming in, except that you are not making things easier for him to protect you. One too many times, you would slip out of Yoongi’s line of sight and he would struggle to find you again. Making him question his ability—for the first time ever in his lifetime—to track down a target, a skill which he had taken pride of in cultivating for many years.s.

As the Crown Prince, Yoongi has spent years training his combatting skills and has had many experiences in hunting game together with the forest faeries. Through it all, he garnered all the skills that have been useful for him as he prepares himself for the throne, and he has been crafting these skills further as he joined the mercenary army while in the human realm. 

Used against you, these skills of his seem to be worthless, and he wonders if you are secretly using some kind of a spell to help you escape each time he lays eyes on you. 

A spell, that’s it, he comes to a realisation as he watches you once again expertly avoiding bumping into a passing merchant who isn’t showing any reaction for the near collision. Not even a glance as you slither away to continue your journey. A subtle movement comes from you as you pull the hood of your cloak to fix it into position, and your hand stops to rest on your neck for a brief moment to give Yoongi the answer he needed. 

Of course, the necklace, he muses, recalling the night he visited your dream to see your ruby necklace glowing in response to the magic that he was using to see you. 

The one-sided chase continues until you both finally reaches the open area which seems to be a part of the town’s plaza. Here, the stalls are no longer placed so close together. There is a fountain at the center, where people gather in small groups to admire the marble statue that is standing in the middle while they all cool down next to the water. 

Around the plaza, there are different shops selling out fresh goods and handmade souvenirs. Trees grow here with small patches of green grass forming circles around them to give proper resting stops with shades for the people in need of a moment to rest between their trades. 

Unlike the other part of the market town, the mass of the people here are less dense. It makes it easier for Yoongi to get a clear view of your movements and to finally catch up on you. Yet he still keeps a safe distance, as he worries that his presence may alarm you more than your other suspicious stalkers would have. 

When you suddenly come to a halt in front of a stall selling handmade tapestries, your eyes looking at the goods that are placed on display with wide, amused eyes, Yoongi also stops and slides behind a parked cart to give you some space. He uses this moment to catch his breath while enjoying the view, as he finally gets to take a good look at you. 

He takes in the way you are dressed—the plain blouse and trousers hidden under the worn-out cloak that you are wearing are certainly adequate to hide your identity, and those pair of muddy boots cannot have been something that you simply plucked out of your fancy wardrobe for your late afternoon stroll.

She certainly has done something like this before, he wonders to himself. Just as the thought crosses his mind, he is suddenly reminded of Yijeong’s story about how he first met you at the pub while you were disguising yourself as a passing traveller. 

He wonders just how often you would do something like this, to slip away from your guards and blend with the common people while disguising as someone else. Thinking about this, Yoongi becomes restless. He clenches his hands as he imagines you roaming down the streets like this, yet instead of wandering in a busy market and while the afternoon sun is still glaring above his head, you are wandering in the slum area of Smotia—just like what Yijeong witnessed that one night and what his intel had reported back to him—and during the night. 

No matter how powerful the spell that your necklace possesses, there is no guarantee that it could properly protect you should you ever come across anyone with the right mana to look past it. Someone like himself, for example, who has enough mana to overcome the concealing spell coming from the necklace. 

Or the suspicious thugs that have been chasing your shadow, which—Yoongi only starts to realise now—must not have been regular humans if they manage to repel the spell and become aware of your presence among the other humans around. 

While Yoongi is still deep in his thoughts, you suddenly start moving again. Yoongi nearly misses his chance to follow you when you immediately make a turn towards the row of stores right across the crowded plaza. Right from the corner of his eyes, Yoongi catches the sight of your pursuers entering the side of the plaza where he first came from. And he can tell just by one look at you to know that you have yet to notice them coming, encouraging him to move even faster. 

Just like before, you expertly weave through the crowd, sometimes making it seem like you are using them as cover, concealing your tracks each time you make a sudden turn or switch direction in between the open stalls. You keep picking up your pace, and it seems to Yoongi that he is the only one who is blessed to be the quickest among your other pursuers to be able to keep up with your speed and agility. Soon enough, Yoongi starts losing sight of your other pursuers, much to his relief, as one by one they begin to slip away, as if deciding that pursuing you may no longer worth all the trouble. 

But the relief that he feels is short-lived once he realises where you are heading. 

Instead of walking towards a local store to continue your window shopping, you suddenly slip into a dark alleyway between two small shops that are currently closing down for their late afternoon break. 

Yoongi rushes to follow you into the alleyway. His thoughts are immediately filled with concern as you disappear into the dark shadows and he suddenly loses sight of you. The moment he is welcomed by nothing more but a long, empty alley filled with discarded carts and dumpsters and no sign of your presence in sight, panic strikes him. 

He takes a quick look around, making sure that nobody is following him as he begins walking deeper into the alleyway, noticing how it gets darker the further away he is from the market. 

The only illumination that is helping him see through the dark path is the streaks of the afternoon sunlight penetrating through the lines of broken sunshades above his head, creating a magnificent light-work across the dark alleyway, though it is not enough to light up the entire place completely. He keeps his eyes open as he carefully advances, staying alert to the shadows around him that seem to have come alive in the dark. 

A sudden movement coming from his right catches his attention. He turns and squints his eyes, trying to figure out what it is when all of a sudden, a figure steps into his path and blocks his way. 

“Fates!” he curses loudly as he barely manages to catch himself before crashing into the dark figure. 

He stumbles back with his hand gripping the handle of his short sword hanging against his hips. But the moment he finally gets a clear view of his intruder, everything in him stops. His hands freeze in place and his words simply die on his tongue. Even his breath is caught, causing him to unable to react or say a word until his lovely intruder speaks first,

“Hi!” 

For a moment, Yoongi almost believes that he is imagining things. Yet the cheerful voice that greets him forces him to quickly recover from his shock. Something that is quite a struggle to do when his heartbeat is pacing wildly inside his chest. 

The only thing he can breathe a sigh of relief from is the knowledge that his mask is still intact, helping to partially cover the expression on his face that he has no control over. Though he definitely knows that he looks nowhere near as calm as you are as you—whom he has been trailing—are now standing right before him, right within arm’s reach, with your wide eyes looking back at him completely amused.

For someone who has been moving with such speed through the marketplace and making Yoongi work hard to catch up, you are looking almost too calm for comfort. And you also seem pleased with yourself for having been able to catch him off guard, catching him red-handed while he is in the middle of pursuing you like an obsessed stalker. 

Blasphemy, Yoongi curses at the Fates, ticked off at how easy it was for him to fall for their wicked games. And here he is now, trapped with nowhere else to go, with the risk of revealing himself too soon before he is finally ready to do so. 

I guess there is no way escaping this now, Yoongi says to himself as he takes a deep breath and tries to find some semblance of composure as he comes face to face with the one person that he has been yearning to see. Even if it means that he must endure the fiery look you have in your eyes which is meant solely for him. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you wait until your mysterious shadow responds back to you. 

You cannot hold back the amused smile that you know is now showing on your face. You simply cannot believe that you have been right all along—that you haven’t really been alone during your expeditions. It had doubt at first, thinking that it was purely due to your own insecurities that you kept feeling like you were being followed, watched, observed, even if you never saw any signs of someone following your shadows. 

But as that ominous presence continued to haunt you like a ghost, no matter where the magic doors kept sending you off to, you knew that you had to investigate further. 

It all started back during your visit to the center of your father’s most prestigious winemaking business, when you instantly felt his presence not long after you stepped out of the royal orchard house where the portal opened for you. The feeling of being watched continued to follow you as you strolled down the vineyard, and while you were never made to feel like you were in imminent danger, that feeling of someone shadowing your every move was quite hard for you to shake off upon your return to the home palace that you became wary ever since.

Once you discerned his presence, you continued to feel his presence around you ever since.

On the night you travelled back to the business district, when you stumbled into the quiet Oakes Village, and then again when you browsed through the transit town of Maplekeep. While he was not always there to shadow you in your travels, you have grown familiar to his lurking presence that you managed to recognise him among the crowd of people while you were trying to blend in with the crowd of people flooding the marketplace. 

Had it been a coincidence? 

You have been wondering about this for a while now, except that you have no idea how that would even be possible as you could barely predict where your journeys through the magic portals would take you to. So how would he be able to occasionally appear at the same place and at the same time as you have been, had it only been purely coincidental? 

That may have been the reason why you finally found courage to confront him directly and find out the truth. Though it didn’t stop you from playing around a little to test and see if you are correct in your assumptions that he has been following you close behind, when you deliberately tried to make him lose your trail and yet he kept managing to come close enough to catch up on you. 

It was through your jest to initiate a play of chase when the idea to ambush him in this dark alleyway abruptly came to you. You didn’t even allow yourself to think twice as slipped into hiding, without any thoughts to plan what to do next. 

Suddenly he is here, standing right in front of you, and you did the first thing that you could think of to finally make contact with your shadow—by saying hi. Like an utter fool that would have put Nanny Abigail to shame. 

You keep a smile on your face while wishing that you can read the expression on his face much better than this. Because aside from the shock you clearly see in his eyes, the rest of his face is partially covered by the silky thin mask that he is wearing as a disguise—much to your disappointment. 

The fright in his eyes vanishes too quickly, however, as he soon sobers up. It is hard to discern his thoughts as you try to study the man under the restricted lights. And he doesn’t give you much to work on as he calmly tilts his head, showing curiosity in return, before surprising you with his own greeting that comes in his deep voice, “Um…hello?”

At the sound of his voice, a sense of familiarity overcomes you from the stranger’s presence. Making you feel as if you had met him before. 

And not simply as your lurking shadow, but from a time before you first sensed him around you. Perhaps even long before you started using the magic doors to travel away from the home castle. 

All of a sudden, you feel a deep longing blooming inside your chest. A feeling that you haven’t felt for quite some time. 

But it is hard to know the reason why you are feeling this way or to recognise him with his face covered by his mask. The darkness around you isn’t helping much either, as the sunlight barely reaches down to this hidden spot where you had chosen to ambush him, not giving you enough illumination to be able to see him as clearly as you wish to.

“Are you perhaps lost, my kind Sir?” you calmly inquire him when he merely gives you silence other than his bemused 'hello’.

You decide to make the first move in the hopes that you can get him to talk to you. Perhaps you can coax him into moving a bit closer, or to simply slide over under the nearby streak of light so you can get a better look at the man. 

Instead, his eyebrows rise in response your question. “Me?” He lets out a deep chuckle which somehow makes you feel a bit fuzzy on the inside with no particular reason. 

“Not that I know of,” he answers with a slight jest in his voice. “I was actually wondering if you had lost your way. Seeing that you are hanging around in such a dark place when there is a whole market with magnificent goods to look at just outside of this alley.” 

This time, you are the one left to feel surprised. He may not be making a move to step out of the shadows as he speaks, but getting a response out of him pleases you. It makes for a good start if you want to find some answers. 

“Then perhaps you can tell me why you have been following me. What are you up to?” 

His gaze flickers with wonder. “I’m not following you,” he says in return while acting as if you have insulted him with your accusations, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Right. Then I suppose that was all just my imagination,” you playfully scoff at him, and for a second, you almost think that you can see his lips twitching to a smile under his mask. 

But you quickly brush it off since it is a bit too dark to confirm it. You convince yourself that in your need to see a reaction from him, you are made to see things that are not there. 

Yet he seems open to play along as the man lifts both of his hands. “Alright, I must admit, that I may have been unintentionally following your movements,” he confesses, though you doubt that he feels any guilt for doing so. “I may have failed to realise that I was indeed following you until much later. But in my defense, I had probably done it out of instinct at first, and continued on because I was afraid that I would lose sight of you in the busy market.” 

“Lose sight of me?” This time, you are the one raising your eyebrows. “So you saw me browsing through the market and decided to, what—follow me to see wherever I was going?” You raise your chin as if to challenge him. “Now, why would you do something like that to a complete stranger?”

The man takes a small step forward, just enough to allow a faint trace of light to fall on the lower part of his face—the part that is covered by the thin mask—to show you a hint of a smile forming from beneath. 

“You—caught my eyes,” he says, sounding almost mesmerised. “Back in the marketplace, I saw you there and—” 

He suddenly stops himself and immediately looks uneasy. It is quite possible that he can clearly see the look of distrust that is no doubt written all over your face and realises quickly the flaw in his unspoken words. After all, he is merely a stranger confessing to have been following you around for no apparent reason at all.    

Any playfulness that he has been showing you slowly dwindles. Then he begins speaking in a gentle voice as if to reassure you, “I have no ill intention, I promise. I can explain why I was following your trail all the way here.” 

“Is that so? Then do tell,” you challenge him, needing to hear his truth. Yet you keep your voice calm and light to try and get rid of the tension that is rising between you out of distrust. Because for some reason, you do believe him. Even if his actions seems shady, you have never once felt anything that caused you alarm. Still, you will have to listen to his reason to decide whether are not he is trustworthy. “Please kindly explain to me the real reason why you have been stalking me if not to put me in harm’s way.”

There is a twinkle sparkling in his eyes which resembles pride. As if your inquiry amuses him. 

“Hmmm, let’s see—” he starts, acting like he is thinking deeply about how to answer you. “I remember strolling through the market to see if I could find some damsel to rescue. But then a little dove appeared before me, a figure that I had never before seen wandering in a place such as this town, where people from various places would frequently come and go and no binding law nor proper guards to protect her from imminent danger.” 

He makes a dramatic sigh before he continues, “Before I could stop myself, I found myself following the little dove’s tracks, as I suddenly felt a strong desire to keep an eye on her to make sure that this little dove wouldn’t stray too far into the crowds and lose her way home.” 

“A damsel?” You let out an incredulous laugh. “A little dove? Are you actually talking about me?” 

The man tilts his head. There is nothing condescending about the way he is looking at you nor when he was referring you to be a lost damsel, though it does make you flustered to be under his unwavering attention. His intense gaze seems to lock you in place, and it doesn’t seem to be the kind that would be enough to scare you or give you the urge to run away. 

In fact, he intrigues you. There is something about him that draws you in. Maybe it’s his eyes? Or is it his voice? Or perhaps—

He takes another step closer, and you get to see more of his figure. You get to notice that he is also wearing a cloak with its hood pulled up to cover his head, putting more shadows onto his face even when there is enough streak of light falling down on him. 

“Is it not the most fitting name?” he gently asks. He peruses you with his gaze, and you can swear that his eyes linger for a brief moment at your hips, as if he can see through the cloak to find the golden dagger that you carry with you for protection. 

When his eyes rise to meet yours, they light up further with an expression that almost looks like pride and joy. “You may look nothing alike any damsel in distress that one would normally find roaming the streets, but you were moving as freely as a dove would. That’s why I couldn’t resist following your shadows to keep you safe.” 

Just as he says this, your cheeks suddenly grow warm and your heartbeat starts to pick up its pace. You have no idea why you are reacting this way to a complete stranger. Much less someone who you should be the most wary of. But his words of acknowledgement and the way he regards you with his deep eyes are affecting you more than they should. 

“If I haven’t been the damsel that you thought I was, then what did you see in me that still called for your attention?” 

The man strolls even closer until he is standing right before you. Close enough for you to feel his warmth and the flutter of his cloak brushing against yours. Being this close, you are once again struck by the familiar sensation you feel coming out of him in waves. He stands right below a streak of sunlight, finally emerging completely from the dark shadows to make him stand out in your eyes. 

“What I saw was a valiant dove,” he says, referring to you with the new endearment which he has given you, making your heart flutter more intensely, “a dove that was curious and bold, flying with her wings fluttering through the breeze while looking so eager to experience the little adventures which she was so invested in. A dove that glowed under the sun as she was enjoying her small chance of freedom. But in her joy, she seemed to disregard her own safety, forgetting the fact that the world—no matter how beautiful it is—wouldn’t be as safe as she thought it would be.” 

His words draw a smile to your face. “Let me guess,” you playfully point out, “you are a poet.” 

The man laughs. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, little dove. As long as you would allow me to fly alongside you during your visit to this town. That way I can be your second pair of eyes to keep a look out of your surroundings for you while you get to bask in your little freedom. I might also act as your second dagger to protect you should harm ever decides to come your way.” 

His comment may be light and playful, yet his words strike at you so deeply that they pull at your heartstrings. The way he describes the way you are enjoying your little excursion makes you draw a deep inhale of breath and feel relieved at the same time. 

As if he knows just how much this small chance of freedom truly means to you. 

But how would he know? 

The moment you start wondering about this, you almost laugh at yourself. You cannot believe just how gullible you suddenly sound, even to yourself, for believing that a stranger might know more about you than other people around you would. 

He could be no different than a predator trying to corner his prey. Just like any predator, he can simply be an expert in recognising weaknesses to find someone to prey on. And in this case, that someone could be you.  

But he still recognises your need for freedom. Regardless of how he was able to see it without ever getting too close, it still stirs warm, fuzzy feeling rising in your chest. The feeling that comes from being seen. 

“How did you know that I am not from around here? Was it really that obvious?” you question him further while trying to push down the little spark of joy that you are starting to revel in. 

His gaze softens. “I just know it,” he simply says with a wistful tone of voice, making you wonder just how much he truly knows about you. 

Despite how open he has been in answering your questions, you can tell that he is still hiding something. He may have claimed to have no ill intention, but you have no doubt that he may still have other intentions than to simply protect a lone damsel in a strange land. 

This raises your curiosity enough which leads you to question him directly, “Was it also the reason why you were following me back at the royal orchard house and kept your eyes on me while I was strolling down the vineyard? To keep me safe?” 

He looks taken aback. Unlike before, when you constantly surprised him with snarky returns during your banters, his awe feels more potent. Because, obviously, he would have never expected that you have been noticing his presence on other accounts as well. 

While he takes his time to respond, your lips curl to a coy smile as you add, “Yes, I know that you were also there. I may have grounds to believe that I sensed your presence on other events and places as well.” 

Seeing how much you seem to enjoy catching him off guard, the man lets out a baffled laugh. “So you already caught me.” 

“You’re not even going to deny it?” you ask him with your eyebrows raised.

Your question draws a smile to his face that grows wide enough the mask can barely hide if from you.

“I could try and I know I won’t succeed,” he says while shaking his head. “You already saw right through me before I even tried to make up a lie to cover up my poor lack of judgement. I might be a terrible liar or I just cannot seem to lie to you. Whatever the case may be, I just know for sure that it would be best not to even try and risk making a fool out of myself by giving you an outright denial.”

For some reason, he only intrigues you even more with this confession of his. “A poet who isn’t good at lying. How interesting.” 

He shrugs. “I already told you that I can be whatever you want me to be. I could be nothing more but a traveller who is visiting the town and looking for a place to stay before going to the next destination. Not entirely different than what I’m assuming to be your intention as well. But I must listen to my heart as it decides to do one last good deed before I depart from this town.” 

While he appeals to you with his reasons under the golden streaks of the afternoon sunlight, you take this chance to have a proper look at him. 

The cloak that he is wearing may not have any emblem or embroideries added to its fabric, yet you can easily tell that it is not just a regular cloak that any common people would be wearing. The leather belts he wears over his attire and the golden chains hanging at the front which hold the cloak and his armour together are also showing more truth about him than what he is letting you to believe. 

And unlike you, who keeps your dagger hidden under your cloak, he has his short sword completely exposed, hanging right at the hip. You had even caught him reaching for it right before you revealed yourself to him, so you know for sure that he is capable enough to use it to protect himself and fight against any threat coming at him. 

Even without the emblem to identify himself, his demeanour, the smooth way that he speaks and his gentle gesture, the humming energy that you can somehow sense coming from him, and the way he is meticulously dressed his part are all forcing you to recall a certain mercenary whom you met quite a while ago. Allowing you to have a good guess of who he might be. 

“You and I both know that you are more than just a regular traveller,” you simply state once you are beginning to have a good grasp of his true identity. Looking straight into his eyes, you lay out everything about him that you have surmised through your keen observation. “You are a part of the notorious mercenary army that has been exploring and spreading through the continent. I might even surmise what the people around the continent have been calling you, as I’ve heard the brotherhood’s name being whispered among both the common folks and the nobles.” 

The name of the mercenary group echoes through your thoughts as your eyes linger briefly at his shiny sword. Ever since the day you spoke with your father’s advisors about the possibility that they were behind the rise of rebellion forming in the outer districts of Nythelean’s territory, it seems that their name has been engraved in your memory for good.

The Brotherhood of Jorn. 

The brotherhood of men from all over the continent that have banded together under the same purpose, the same pretext, which is to build an army of capable men to protect their kin and the common folks that are not under the jurisdiction law of the reigning monarch. And the mercenary group has since multiplied in numbers, with so many young men who have not been eligible to become the royal guards and knights joining the brotherhood to earn their keep. 

“You may not be wearing their emblem or the armour that those who are part of the mercenary group would often wear when they are in public,” you continue while pointing at the armour on his chest which is only partly hidden under his cloak and then at his sword, “and your disguise may have fooled others, allowing them to think that you a mere traveller passing through on your way to the Capital. But I can tell that you are one of them. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that is true. I know that your men work for the Barons and merchants who travel through this area and the districts surrounding the Land of Smotia.”

The pride look presented through his eyes becomes clearer. “Seems to me that I had underestimated you,” he says with a low chuckle. “First, you showed me that you have a remarkable sense of awareness when you were weaving your way through the market while trying to shake me off of your trail. And secondly, you are quite knowledgeable about weapons and the politics happening in the continent.” 

His acknowledgement brings a smile to your face. “So I was once again correct with my assumptions?

Once again, he shakes his head. “There was never a point in denying it, is there?” With a soft chuckle, he then straightens himself to his full height. “Perhaps admitting the truth should be enough to show you that I truly have no ill intention upon approaching you.” 

Hearing this, you can only exhale a relieved breath. The truth is, even if you never once felt intimidated by his presence, everything that you said to him just now has been a gamble. You had no idea what kind of threat he may bring upon you and yet, at the risk of your own safety, you still confronted him to finally have some answers.

You may not have all of the right answers to ease your mind just yet, but knowing that he isn’t posing a threat to you is enough for now. Because that means that you will be able to continue with your expeditions while learning about your father’s magic.

And you wouldn’t have to worry about losing your newfound freedom through your secret escape just to avoid danger.

“I suppose I can take your word,” you simply say to him, “for now.”

He nods, understanding your need to be cautious. “Then the only thing that I can do is to make sure I won’t disappoint you by showing you otherwise once you’ve placed your faith in me. And now that the truth is finally out in the open—” he starts to say just as he glances sideways, as if something has caught his attention from the other side of the dark alleyway, “this might be a good time to let you know that I was not the only one in this place who had set their eyes on you.” 

You quickly glance around, despite not sensing any other presence but your own from the other parts of the alley. It is also quite hard to see through the shadows now that the golden sunlight is beginning to descend from the sky above, as the day is shifting towards the coming evening. 

“What do you mean?” 

“This is actually another reason why I had to follow your tracks, even when I told myself that I shouldn’t come any closer. Have you not noticed any other movement following your shadows other than mine?” he questions you with his voice lowered and his hands touching lightly on your upper arms as if to stop you from moving away from his cover, as he is using his body to hide you from sight. “Look over my shoulders, discreetly, and tell me what you see.” 

With your brows furrowed, you lean forward to sneak a glance from over his shoulder. A task that is so simple, yet so hard to do, when the feeling of his chest brushing closely to yours and the woody scent wafting from his body are all too distracting to help you to focus. 

“Do you see now what I meant when I talked about your disregard for your own safety?” he whispers to you. With the lack of distance between you, his deep voice seems to be brushing at your skin. Even as the mask that he has been wearing remains to cover his face.

You blink and try once again to focus on what you are supposed to be doing. The moment you open your eyes again, that is when you finally see them.

Right at the entrance of the alleyway where you came in from, suspicious men are hovering like wild dogs. Two of those men are tall and burly, while the rest are lean, yet they all look equally as rough as the infamous street thugs that you have heard being talked about during your previous travels, with scars on their skin and muscles bulging from beneath their clothes. 

While they are all wearing common people’s clothing, every single one of them are packed with weapons hanging on their chests, hips, and back, even some on their legs, which would be enough to intimidate others—various-sized daggers, knives, and small swords that would be easy for them to swing while being in the crowd. 

“Who are they?” you whisper to him as you slink back down to take cover, making use of his broader body to shield you from their sight. Even though none of those men seem to be paying attention to the dark space within the alleyway. 

Not yet, anyway. As they are still busy looking around towards the market and the streets beyond the alley, as if they are searching for a specific person that may slip in between the people who are moving from one shop to another. 

“Wait—are they looking for me?” you ask him with a sharp whisper. Just thinking about being a target to this thugs seems baffling. You mentally chastise yourself for being so complacent—after being able to have smooth travels where no threats were present, or having anyone noticing your presence at all before—and for celebrating too soon when you found out that the man who is now shielding you in the shadows had been a threat. When the truth is that you have yet to escape the possible danger that was truly threatening to get in your way. 

“My best guess would be that they are the local thugs that have been roaming around the market town. They have been causing disturbances around here, causing troubles with travelling merchants and visitors that had come here to shop. They would steal money, pick their pockets, and oftentimes force small shops to pay up ‘security money’ to keep them from messing up their stores. It is one of the main reasons why more and more merchants and shop-owners hire mercenaries like myself and my brothers to protect their business—and themselves—from thugs like them.”

He looks straight into your eyes after revealing this to you. “I’m sure they could easily tell that you were a newcomer, a fresh face that they could prey on.” 

You merely scoff at this. “Well, if that truly was what they thought about me, they would be wrong. No one is making a prey out of me.” 

His eyes sparkle with awe and pride. “I have no doubt about it at all,” he says, “but I would still advise you to stay close to me to avoid getting into any trouble.” 

He stops to gauge your reaction to his offer. When he notices how wary you are still, he bends down to meet your gaze and reassure you, “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” 

Your lips twitch to a smile. “How am I supposed to trust you when I don’t even know your name?” you question him. “And don’t get me started with that mask. I feel like out of everyone around here, there is more chance of you being a thief or a thug than those men would be.”

“You’re right. How silly of me,” he says with a soft chuckle. Keeping his eyes on you, he brings his hand up and gently plucks his mask off, revealing his face to you.

The moment you see him, something seems to come alive inside your chest. You have no idea what it is or why your body is reacting this way. Even that same sense of familiarity, filled with a peculiar feeling of yearning, returns to you tenfold, even when you cannot remember if you have ever met him before. 

But you find it hard to figure things out when you are too awe-struck by his face, his smile, and the warm gaze he is giving you now. 

“My name is Min Yoongi,” he says, introducing himself as he takes your hand and kisses the back of it. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss—” 

“Call me _____,” you carefully introduce yourself in return, surprising yourself with how easy it feels. To feel so much weight being lifted from your shoulders when you simply give him your name. 

Just a name. 

Without any title attached to it. Without any attachment to your father, the crown, and the royal palace clinging onto you. As if you have been reborn into a completely different person while still being you. 

And you absolutely love how liberating it feels. 

“________,” Yoongi repeats with a wistful tone of voice, as if he is entranced by your name. The sound he makes brings warmth to your face, which gets more intense when his gaze seems to grow sharper when he is saying your name. 

There is also a peculiar twinkle in his eyes that draws you in once he hears introducing yourself, as if your name itself has become a spell that puts him in a trance. Yet the look disappears too quickly before you get to see it more clearly. 

“Do you trust me, _____?” he asks you while he is still holding your hand in his. 

“Yes,” you find yourself answering him in a similarly wistful tone of voice. Not because you are suddenly put under his spell—though you have no doubt that he may be capable of doing so—but because you do trust him. 

Not only because of how captivated you are by him, but also because for some odd, questionable reason, his presence feels like home. 

And it puts you at ease to simply take his hand and allow him to take you away. For you suddenly have faith on him to believe that he will be able to keep you safe. “Yes, I trust you,” you muse with a smile. “Now take me away from here.” 

— © 2023 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[uncleasad]

Wild factoid! I don’t typically write cursing/profanity in my stories, and when I do, it’s only one or maybe two appearances. (I always remember Rob Thomas talking about how they were allowed but one instance of the F-word in the Veronica Mars movie if they wanted to keep the PG-13 rating and how he had to figure out the most opportune spot in the script to deploy it.)

I was looking for something in Beware the Spirits Lurking Within tonight, and I discovered there are currently 25 occurences of various versions of the F-word so far 😳 (And as there are zero in the published Chapter 1, that means all 25 are in Chapters 2 through however-many I end up with!) I still thought I was being fairly judicious with the usage…so maybe horror-esque scenarios call for more profanity?

[madam-wakefield]

One Hundred Ways To Say I Love You - Part 13

Title: “Sorry I'm Late”

Summary: Number 13 of 100 ways to say I love you.

Rating: PG

Word Count: 628

Part 1, Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Serena curses the traffic. She was already running late when she left work and the traffic is going to make her even later. It’s their anniversary and Serena has promised Bernie she would be on time, but she isn’t, and, in fact, she’s getting on for thirty minutes late. 

The traffic crawls along much too slowly and Serena can’t help but think of all the wonderful memories she and Bernie have shared in the past year, especially all the firsts they have experienced together: First kiss, first date, first holiday - a lovely long weekend in Italy, which was the first time they’d shared a bed. She can think of times that have not been as fun, like their first argument that had lead to Bernie walking the five miles home at almost midnight having had too much to drink to drive. There was also the first time that Bernie had met Edward and that had been anything but fun. Edward had been a total jerk, not that Serena was surprised, but she is thankful Bernie stood by her side and not fled in the opposite direction. Despite it all though, Serena knows she wouldn’t change any of it for the world. The few bad moments they have shared far outweigh the wonderful memories they are making together. 

In the time she’s spent musing about the past year the traffic has crawled along enough for Serena to direct the taxi down a side street to take the back roads to the restaurant where Bernie is hopefully still waiting. 

By the time the taxi pulls up outside the restaurant—the one with the extensive wine list where they spent their first not-date—Serena is just shy of three quarters of an hour late. She pays the taxi, forgoing the change, since she just wants to get inside.

As she pushes open the door, she scans the room for Bernie’s distinctly messy blonde locks. All of a sudden she spots her, back to the door, looking as beautiful as she always does to Serena.

Serena tells the waitress that she can already see her girlfriend waiting for her. A few months ago she would have been so shy she would have said partner just to avoid any awkwardness. Then she takes herself over to Bernie, who naturally stands the minute she realises Serena has arrived. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she says as Bernie bends over to place a kiss on her cheek in greeting. Serena can’t help but lean in for a hug as Bernie pulls away from her cheek. “You can blame Sacha, well, you can blame Sacha and the traffic.”

Bernie pulls back from the hug suddenly. “Sacha? Should I be worried that you’ve had enough of being a sapphic goddess and have decided to give men another go?” Serena may have thought Bernie was being serious had it not been for the giant smirk over her face. 

“Never! He needed for me an emergency consult on Keller,” she explains, pulling Bernie close again. “You’re stuck with me for life whether you want to be or not, but I am sorry I’m late.”

“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be stuck with for life.” Bernie plants another kiss on her cheek before pulling her chair out for her, so Serena sits, not wanting to waste any more of their evening. “And not to worry, love, it happens. You’re here now, we both are. So let’s just sit and enjoy the evening together,” Bernie says, and this time leans across the table to kiss her on the lips, cementing the acceptance of her apology. Serena melds easily against Bernie’s lips and decides to do just what her girlfriend proposed and spend the evening enjoying celebrating their past year together. 

[maggiedelusional]

Superstar (Part 2)

Superstar

Pairing: Rooster x f!reader, (blink and you'll miss it, unrequited) Hangman x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, good ending promise

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 19.7k (holy sh*t)

Summary:  “I’m no one special, just another wide eyed girl, who's desperately in love with you.”

OR 

Rooster is sure he's in love with this girl. Only problem is, he's never seen or face or know her name

No use of y/n

Based of off Superstar (Taylor's version) by Taylor Swift

Author's Note: See part 1 for my full notes about this piece. Here's Part 2!

You thought having a completely virtual relationship with Bradley was probably one of the most unlikely things that could’ve happened to you but so was being sorta friends with Hangman. 

You just gave clearance to Rooster, Hangman, and Phoenix who was with Bob. They were running a simulation course that had to be achieved under 2 minutes and the pilots were taking their time to get into position. 

Rooster was currently not connected to you as he was talking to Bob and Phoenix about the logistics of the exercise. Leaving you on comms with Hangman.

You texted rather frequently. Obviously not to the same degree as you and Rooster but he was quickly becoming one of your best friends. 

Behind that cocky facade was actually a very funny and thoughtful friend. He let you vent about the frustrations of your situation with Rooster, and he forced you to go out a few times a week to build up your confidence and actually make friends. 

It was really nice to have a friend because prior to Hangman, no knew about your Bradley situation, and it was a relief to finally have someone who knew and didn't judge you for it. 

“What time did you and Bradshaw go to sleep last night?” Hangman asked. 

“Despite your assumptions Hangman, we don’t spend ALL night talking to each other.” You retorted with a huff. 

“Ahh, so after 1 again” He chuckled.

Curse him for being right.

“I’m not talking to you about this Jacob.” You reply with a pout

“So I was right!” He laughed in amusement. 

Before you could reply, Rooster interrupted with an irritated tone. 

“Hey, who said you can talk to my girl Hangman? Get into position, I’ll be there in a sec.” Rooster said gruffly.

“Only because you make it too easy Rooster, see you up there. And I’ll talk to YOU later ATC.” Jake chuckled, smugness dripping from his voice, before he went radio silent. 

“Your girl huh?” You said softly, your voice now missing the joking tone it held just moments before. 

“Was he flirting with you? Why am I even asking, its Hangman, of course he was flirting with you.” You could hear the pout in his voice. 

You giggled at his unfounded jealousy.

“He wasn’t, I promise, we were just joking around.”

“And even if he was, you know I only have eyes for you” You tell him with a smile. 

“Promise Cloud?”

“Promise Brad Brad.”

——————————————————————————————-

You were seated in the Hard Deck with Laura, Lia, and Sara. Finally being considered a part of the group. You were sipping your drinks and laughing about the usual Navy antics that you all saw this week. 

You pulled your phone out of your pocket to see no text from Rooster. This was a continuing trend starting earlier today after they landed post exercise. This was strange because Bradley, without fail, always texted you after he’d gotten out of his F-18 and returned to the pilot lounge. 

You were of course worried about him, he was not the type to just disappear without saying anything. Even now, you look across the bar to the dagger squad only to see that Bradley was not with them. You made eye contact with Jake and sent him a questioning look only for him to shrug at you and started tying on his phone. 

Jacob S: Before you ask, I haven’t seen him either.

You: Don’t you all usually leave together? 

Jacob S: Yeah usually, but he was held up today 

You: By what?

Before Hangman could reply to you, you saw the undeniable view of Rooster strutting into the Hard Deck, but he was not alone.

 He had a girl under his arm, she was tall, and built like a supermodel with dark hair and piercing green eyes that you can clearly see the color of even from across the room.

 You felt a weight the size of a bowling settle in your stomach. Who was she? 

“Thats Amanda Sharp.” Sara explained, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Call sign Rumor.”

“Apparently she is one of the best WSOs in the game, well of course behind Bob, Fanboy, and Halo.” She continued. 

“Why is she here?” Lia asked the question you were thinking. 

“This is not confirmed yet, but apparently she was called back to be Rooster’s back seater for a highly classified mission.” 

That covered the basis of who she was but another question was sitting on your brain. Who was she to Bradley?

“Ladies.” Jake showed up out of nowhere at your table.

“Do you mind if I borrow your friend for a moment?” He asked with his signature smirk pointing to you. 

“Of Course Lieutenant Commander.” Laura replied with soft sigh obviously affected by his charm. 

“Thank you I appreciate it.” He added before he led you to a corner of the bar that didn’t have as many receiving ears. 

“Before you freak out, that girl is Amanda Sharp, or Rumor, she got called here for an assignment with Rooster.” He explained.

“Yeah I’ve been informed of that.”

“Who is she? And why does she and Bradley seem close?” You asked, hoping he had more answers than your ATC friends. 

“I don’t know too much, but apparently shes from here and her and Rooster grew up together….” 

“Childhood sweethearts?” You inquired.

“I have no clue, but thats why I came to talk to you cuz I knew you would freak out.” 

“Freak out? I’m not freaking out. Oh my God! Is that why he hasn’t texted me all day? He was preoccupied with her.” You started pacing while Hangman looked at you in amusement.

“Shh relax, see? What did I say? ” He grabbed your shoulders to stop you from burning a hole on the ground.

“Yes he was showing her around base and we were getting briefed on the mission earlier today, which why we BOTH weren’t texting you earlier. But I’m sure sure you didn’t notice my absence as much as Bradshaw’s right?” He chuckled. 

“Sorry Jake..” You felt guilty at not also noticing your friends’ unresponsiveness. 

“No worries Honey, I’m just kidding.. Mostly.” 

You looked across the bar again, this girl, Amanda seemed to fit right in with their group, joking around with Phoenix and making the other pilots laugh. She was absolutely stunning.

“She’s really pretty..” You pointed out sadly. 

“Oh yeah she’s a smoke show.” Hangman agreed with your observation.

“I’m surprised you’re not over there flirting with her.” 

“Hey! I don’t have the urge to flirt with every attractive woman.” He exclaimed feigning offense. 

You raised a knowing eyebrow at him. 

“Okay you don’t believe me, but I could’ve been turning my charm on you a long time ago and I haven’t.” He rationalized. 

“That’s because you respect Rooster too much, and I’m not even your type.” You laughed at him. 

“Yes despite my better judgement I definitely respect Bradshaw too much.” He admits with a sigh.

“But you’re wrong about the second part, all beautiful women are my type, and last time I checked you honey,  fall under that category.” He corrected you. 

“Thanks Jake..”

You knew that he was just being a good friend, and trying to make you feel better. But you couldn’t help but feel insecure about your standing with Rooster, especially when a woman so beautiful and so suited for him is now within reach. 

You sigh sadly as you look at Rooster and Rumor across the bar, not only do they look good together, even their call signs sound good together. 

Hangman follows your eyes across the bar before putting a hand on your shoulder, rubbing circles on your back with his thumb. 

“Just talk to Bradshaw about it, okay?”

“I promise that nothing can come between what you have.” 

He says before returning back to the pool tables with the rest of the pilots. 

——————————————————————————————-

 You returned home after your conversation with Hangman, telling your friends that you suddenly had felt under the weather and wanted to get some rest. 

You wondered if Rooster was even going to call you tonight. It was part of your routine, your body and your heart expected it at this point. But with the recent developments, should you let yourself hope?

You always knew that this was going to end, Bradley couldn’t wait for you forever. He was eventually going to find his match, one who was not too afraid to show herself to him.And it was finally here, in the form of Amanda Sharp. 

You were preparing yourself for disappointment so you were genuinely surprised to receive a call from Rooster, albeit very much later than when he usually called, but nevertheless, he called you!

“Hey Cloud!” He sounded so excited.

“Hi.” you breathed out, hoping to sound as normal as possible. 

“How was your day?” He asked you. 

“It was okay, missed you today..” 

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry for being MIA, I had a pretty busy day.” He explained.

“That’s fine Brad, what did you do?” You asked him, hoping to not sound like you were prying (even though you already knew why he was so busy.)

“Hangman and I were briefed about an upcoming mission they want us to fly, its not yet official or confirmed but there’s a possibility they need us at some point.” 

He still had not mentioned Rumor, was he purposely trying to hide it from you? 

“Did anything else happen?” You tried your best to not sound accusatory. 

“Not too much, that took up the majority of the day honestly… Oh and Mandy came in today!” He sounded so overjoyed to mention her. 

“Mandy?” 

“She’s a WSO, call sign Rumor, she got called in for the possible mission.” 

You were hoping he would elaborate.

“So you know her well?” 

“Yeah.. we actually grew up together.” 

“Were you friends?” 

“Friends, and we dated for a little while in high school and then again while in flight school.” 

And there it was, the history and connection that you feared that the two shared. 

“Oh.. wow. That’s great, it must be great to reconnect with an old flame.” You forced out, trying to keep your voice from cracking. 

“Hey,, are you okay sweetheart?” Of course your distress would not go unnoticed by Bradley. 

“I’m fine, Rooster.” You insisted even though you were fighting everything in you to keep from crying.

“You know were ancient history right? We broke up before I even entered Top Gun.”

You wanted to trust him and you knew he wouldn’t intentionally lie to you. 

“Okay Bradley, I believe you.”

“Good because you’re the only girl I want.” You smiled, hoping that he was telling the truth.

‘Now tell me what I missed today Cloud.” 

——————————————————————————————-

The next couple of weeks has been… rough for the lack of a better word. Well it was for you, you weren’t quite so sure for Bradley. 

His texts slowly got more and more sporadic, until you only received at most 3 a day, and they almost always had something to do with Rumor.

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Mandy cooked me lunch!

Or

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: I’m getting a haircut, Mandy says its getting too long.

He still made an effort to call you every night, but they were getting shorter and shorter and later and later, usually because he and Rumor were at the bar or having a movie night or getting dinner together.

Bradley told you they were just friends, and you wanted to trust him. But you were growing more and more anxious about their relationship every passing day. 

You were barely assigned to be ATC for Rooster since Rumor became his back seater, and the times you were, he was completely business and has not said anything outside asking for clearance. 

You would look at the from across the mess hall, or across the bar, or down at the Tarmac and see how comfortable and in touch they were with each other. Hangman would shoot you looks of pity whenever he would catch you doing this. 

Jakey 🤠: You look like a kicked puppy

You: Can you blame me?

Jakey 🤠: They’re just talking shop

You: Didn’t realize talking shop was so funny.

Jakey 🤠: It can be

Jakey 🤠: Just finish eating, and we can drink away the bad thoughts later 

You: I might just take you up on that.

When you were leaving the mess hall, you saw Rumor clinging to Bradley’s arm as they were laughing at something that you unfortunately missed. There’s the brick in your stomach settling in again. 

You were out with your ATC friends once again, trying to distract yourself from the crappy thoughts that were plaguing your mind. You were thankful that the group picked another bar, as you could not spend another evening seeing Amanda and Bradley together. 

“I swear I have no luck dating in this town.” Lia sighed

“It’s impossible to find a Navy man who’s emotionally available and single.” Sara explained. 

“I swear it would be easier to find a needle in a haystack.” 

You nodded in agreement, but keeping your own relationship troubles to yourself. 

“Speaking of Navy men..” Laura turned to you.

“What’s your deal with Hangman?”

“Jake? We’re friends.” You explained to them. 

“You guys seem awfully close.” Lia added with a raised eyebrow. 

“He’s just helping me through some things.” You hoped that this was enough to quell their curiosity. 

As much as you liked these girls, you were not ready for anyone else to know about your situation with Bradley. 

“Are you sure? I swore I saw something there.” Laura stated. 

“Nope, just a platonic casual friendship.” You smiled grateful for Jake’s companionship. 

“If you say so girl.” 

“Oh shit, y’all will not believe what just happened.” Sara exclaimed, wide eyed at something on her phone. 

“I know we should’ve gone to the Hard Deck tonight!”

The three of you stared at her in confusion, while Sara continued jaw slacked, typing on her phone. 

“Well are you going to share with the class?” Laura asked, clearly losing patience. 

“Okay, so my friend who works down in the hangar has been kind of giving me updates about the whole Rooster and Rumor situation.” Sara explained. 

“Situation?” Lia asked. 

“They’re like high school sweethearts or something and also had a bit of a thing at flight school.”. 

“Why'd they break up?” Laura asked. 

“From what I heard, they were assigned to different bases, Rooster in Virginia and Rumor in Texas. They couldn’t make it work with the distance.” 

“Unresolved feelings?” You added with a gulp, all your insecurities from the past couple weeks now culminating. 

“No actually, they decided to be ‘just friends’. And based on what my friend has been telling me these past few weeks, they do seem very much platonic.”

You could feel relief slowly fill you, maybe your worries have been unfounded and they really are just friends.”

“Then why the sudden freak out?” Laura inquired. 

“So my friend is at the Hard Deck right now, and she walked out to the back deck for some air. Guess who she saw out there making out?” 

“No!” Lia gasped. 

You suddenly felt like you just had the air punched out of you.

“So much for being ‘just friends.’” Laura chucked

You felt absolutely sick to your stomach. The whole world felt like it was spinning and it didn’t help that you already had two martinis in your system. 

You stood up, trying leaning on the table to keep your balance.

“I gotta use the restroom.” You excused yourself.

“You want us to come?” Lia asked. 

“No its okay I just need a minute.: 

You walked towards the back, trying to keep your footsteps even and your breathing as steady as possible. 

When you knew you were out of ear shot, you took out your phone and pressed a button on your recently called. The phone rang a couple times before being picked up. 

“Did you see it?” You asked

Hangman sighed before answering. 

“Yes I did.” 

You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. 

You could no longer hold back the tears. 

“So this entire time I’ve been right to worry.” You sobbed. 

“No, I promise before tonight, they hadn’t been anything but completely platonic.” 

“The rest of us are just as shocked as you.” Jake argued. 

“People don’t just makeout out of nowhere Hangman.” 

It was getting harder and harder to breath as you the flood gates continuously brained themselves. 

“Honey, breath.” Jake was now worried. 

“I just-..”

“Jake, I can’-..”

“Where are you? I’m coming to get you.” 

You told him where you were and he came to pick you up less than 20 minutes later, telling Lia, Laura, and Sara you were having an allergic reaction and needed to get home. 

You spent most of the drive home sobbing your eyes out. With Jake not quite knowing what to do to help you. 

You finally got your breathing back to normal when he parked in froont of your apartment building. 

“I know you’re upset, and you are right to. But I think you need to talk to Bradshaw.” 

“At least let him explain.”

“There is nothing to explain Jake, I was right, there was something there with Rumor.” 

It felt ironic that her call sign was so fitting in this situation. 

“Even if there was something there the entire time, which I honestly doubt, you should at least hear him out.”

“He’s crazy about you, don’t just throw that away.” 

“Okay.” You tell Jake, not sure why, if only to get rid of him and wallow in your own self pity. 

“Call me or text me if you need anything okay?” He tells you before driving away. 

——————-——————————————————————————————-—————

Bradley still called you, you don’t know why. He should’ve been with Amnada right now, letting out the years of frustration from being apart. 

Or maybe the gentleman he was, called to call things off with you instead of leaving you in the dark. You didn’t know which one would be worse for you in this situation.

“I missed you today baby.’ You heard his voice breath out. 

Baby? Why was he talking to you like he didn’t just have his tongue down Rumor’s throat less than an hour ago?

“Is it true Bradley?”

You heard his breath hitch.

“How’d you find out?” He asked, guilt coating his voice. 

“The Hard Deck is not exactly a private place. Everyone on base knows by now.” You answered voice solemn. 

“Please don’t be mad, I can explain.” He stated frantically.

“Explain what Bradley? You and Rumor kissed, I think thats all you can say about it.” 

“You rekindled the old flame.” 

“No you couldn’t be anymore wrong.” he insisted.

“Maybe we had something in the past but I never thought of her as anymore than a friend after I met you.” 

“Earlier at the Hard Deck we were with the rest of the squad playing pool like we usually do and she asked if we could talk outside.” He explained. 

You debated stopping him, avoid hearing the sordid details, but for some reason unknown you let him continue. 

“She told me that the past few weeks made her realize that she still had feelings for me and then she kissed me.” 

“But I swear to you I pushed her away, and I told her that there was someone else and that I just saw her as a friend.

“But not before everyone in the Hard Deck saw.” 

Did you want to believe him? Why would Rooster be stupid enough to push away his breathtakingly beautiful ex girlfriend for you?

He was attempting to make you feel better but the cause of their breakup was being torn apart by distance. And now that they’re back in the same place. What's to stop them from starting again?

“Its okay Bradley, you don’t have to lie to me if you still feel something for her.” You wanted to make this as clean of a break as possible, if he was going to leave you at least you can go with dignity. 

“I already told you Cloud. Theres nothing there.. Its ancient history!”

“I love you!” He exclaimed. 

“Bradley please. You don’t have to say that.”

“But its true. Why don’t you believe me? Why don’t you trust me?” He pleaded.

“That’s not it! Bradley, I just-”

“No you don’t! We’ve been doing this dance for months, and anytime I tell you how I feel, you discount my feelings.”

“Despite everything you still won’t meet me!I still don’t even know your name!” 

“Why don’t you let me see who you are?” He begged. 

“I think we need to end this.” 

It broke your heart to have to do this, but you knew it was inevitable, it was better to rip off the bandaid than to let both of you get hurt more. 

“What are you saying?”

“Bradley I’m sorry, I don’t want to hold you back anymore. You deserve someone who's smart, beautiful, accomplished, you deserve so much better than me.” You could no longer stop the tear that escaped from your eyes. 

“But don’t you get it Cloud? You are all those things, I’ve never seen your face but I know that, I know you, and I love you. You are all I want.”

“Bradley.. I can’t.”

“Okay then I won’t push you, and I won’t force you to stay if that’s not what you want.”

“But just know.. I didn’t leave, I don’t want to leave. You pushed me away.” 

You pressed end call before you could hurt him more than you already have. It needed to be done. Now he was free to explore whatever could happen with Rumor and you can maybe start to move on with your life. 

And for the first time in a long time rather than the sound of Bradley’s voice, you fell asleep to complete silence

——————————————————————————————-

Your punctuality and your perfect attendance at work definitely paid off because you now accumulated enough vacation days to mope around and heal from your breakup with Bradley. (Can you even call it a breakup if you were never actually together?)

You couldn’t log into work and be his ATC after everything thats happened. And you couldn’t sit up on that comm tower and watch him and Rumor rekindle their relationship. 

You spent the past three days licking your wounds and getting used to the silence that filled your once enlivened phone, with only an occasional text from your mom, fellow ATCs , and Jake reminding you that your phone did actually still work. 

You were ready to sleep the rest of the day away when you got a text from Hangman.

Jakey 🤠: Open your door, I’m outside. 

You: No. I want to be alone.

Jakey 🤠: I know that, I promise I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.

Jakey 🤠: Please

You: Fine.

You dragged yourself off your bed, not bothering to care that you did not look presentable enough to be seen by other humans. 

You opened the door to a nervous Hangman in his dress whites. 

You let him in and watched him awkwardly stand in your living room before asking.

“What is so important Jake?”

“You need to see Bradshaw. In person. Face to face. Tonight.” He tells you firmly.

“Absolutely not!” 

“Did he put you up to this? I did what I did, for him. Bradley and I are done, and there no reason to-”

“Please listen.” Hangman interrupted desperately. You can tell he was holding back a lot so you stopped yourself from continuing your tirade and sat on your couch. Eyeing Hangman and silently inviting him to sit as well. 

He sat on the spot next to you, avoiding your gaze, which you couldn’t understand because Jake was not the type to shy away from eye contact. 

“That mission that we kept talking about? Rooster, Rumor, and I were chosen to fly it.” He explained, his leg bouncing anxiously. 

“I thought that mission was only circumstantial? It wasn’t even confirmed.” You were confused. 

“Well they confirmed it. Today.” He replied

“Were getting shipped out tomorrow.” 

“How bad is it?” You gulped.

“Its bad, we’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“Is it worse that the uranium plant?”

He nodded silently. 

“Oh Jake.” You hugged his figure tightly, trying to exude as much sympathy as you could in your embrace. 

He released himself your grasp after a few moments and looked at you with a sad smile.

“Now don’t go crying on me now Honey. Don’t you worry about me, I chose to risk my life for my country.” 

Of course, expect Hangman to joke even in the face of death. 

He stood up unexpectedly pulling you up with him. 

“But that’s why you need to talk to Rooster.” 

“Don’t let him go, not knowing who you are.” 

“But Jake-.” You were ready to protest with the same point you’ve been using this entire ordeal, which were now sounding insignificant in the grand scheme of things. 

“You already broke it off, you already lost each other. What more can you lose?” 

“Do this, not just for him but for you. You will regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t.”

He was right. Rooster was leaving for a mission so classified and dangerous that only the three aviators, admirals, and a select few ATCs knew about it. If Bradley died on that mission, you would hate yourself forever for never giving him answers.

“Okay.. I will.” You replied softly. 

“Atta-girl.” Jake smiled at you with his signature smirk. 

“Now go shower and get ready because you stink!” He tells you playfully as you made your way to your bedroom to make yourself presentable.

You found yourself yet again anxiously sitting in the passenger seat of Jake’s car. 

“Stop being so nervous, I promise it’ll be okay. Bradshaw loves you.” Jake tells you as you pull up to the Hard Deck. 

You exit Hangman’s truck and enter the Hard Deck cautiously, immediately searching for Bradley. 

Then you saw him, he was sitting at the bar in his dress whites nursing a scotch. He was absolutely radiant. 

You debated turning around and walking out of that bar and out of Bradley’s life forever, but you kept your feet planted, and slowly but surely made your way to him. 

“Rooster?” You call to him with a tap on his shoulder. 

Here goes nothing. 

He says your name in response, and as much as you love the little nickname he’s been calling you these past several months, hearing him say your real name felt absolutely perfect, like he was always meant to say it. 

“You’re Hangman’s friend right?” He asks you with a small smile. 

“Yes I am! I’m here because I wanted to say-” 

“I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t mean to be rude, but tonight is sort of a last hurrah and I’m waiting for-”

“Oh here she is!” 

You turned to see Leiutenant Sharp approaching the bar. 

“Mandy! You’re finally here.” He said with a wide smile as he pulled her in for a hug

And there it was, you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces, and any hope you had was swept away. 

“Roo! Come on you owe me a dance.” She tells him as she pulled him up from his stool. 

“Sure, just let me talk to-” Rooster turned to look at you but you were already gone. 

'

How could you have been so stupid? You should’ve just left the situation alone. You had a clean break and you did it with your dignity intact. 

But you were so dumb and such a hopeless romantic for letting Jake drag you there only to have your heart further ripped apart. 

You ran out to the back deck, not being able to stand to be around the new (old?) couple any longer. You tried, you really did but you weren’t even worth his time. 

You wished you stayed in bed, where you were safe, instead you were here completely humiliated, trying not to further embarrass yourself by crying in public. 

You heard the back door open and saw Jake step out into the night. 

“I saw what happened…” 

“So you saw how completely humiliated I was?” You asked him, frustration flooding out of your body. 

“He obviously has a lot on his mind, he didn’t mean it, if you tried again-”

“Don’t you get it Jake? Everything I told you would happen, happened.”

“He completely blew me off! He didn’t even let me talk.” You didn’t realize how loud you were and didn’t realize that Bradley’s pricked up, finally recognizing your voice. 

“He took one look at me and decided I wasn’t even worth his time.” 

“Can I even blame him Jake? Look at me, I wouldn’t give me the time of day either.”

“No Stop! I am sick of you not seeing just how beautiful you are!” Jake blurted. 

“You are so absolutely breathtaking and Bradshaw is an idiot for blowing you off.” 

You were shocked at his admition, you opened your mouth to reply, when you heard the back door open. 

“I am an idiot.” You were shocked to see Bradley now standing on the back deck. 

Shocked silence settled between the three of you

“I’ll leave you two to talk.” Jake ended the stillness before moving back inside the Hard Deck. 

“So its you.” Bradley stared at you with a straight face, his expression indiscernible.

Its funny how you were so much better at reading him when it was just his voice. 

“You have been here the whole time.” He commented

“Yeah Bradley I have.” You sighed, staring down at your feet. 

“Look at me.” He pleaded. 

You slowly looked up to see he was now closer to you. Almost a breath away. 

“Why? Why did you hide from me for so long?” 

“I already told you.. You deserve someone better than me.” You answered, your voice cracking.

“And I told you that you are all I want.”

“You say that Bradley but when I tried to show myself to you…you tossed me aside.” 

“Within one sentence you decided that I wasn’t enough.” 

“You know that was not my intention.” He replied.

“But that’s exactly what you did. So all of my anxieties were proven right.”

“I’m no one special, just another wide eyed girl, who's desperately in love with you.”

You avoided saying those three words to him, knowing that whatever you had was temporary, you were trying to protect yourself. Even now after admitting it, you didn’t feel any weight lift off of you, your heart only feeling heavier.

Bradley stared at you with wide eyes, but made no effort to respond to you finally declaring your love for him.

You decided to not let this shit show drag on any longer. 

“Good luck on your mission Leuitenant Commander Bradshaw.” You whispered, touching your hand to his cheek, accepting that this is the last interaction you’ll ever have with him. 

With that final action, you turned and ran out back to the parking lot, Jake running after you, and leaving Bradley standing alone. 

——————————————————————————————-

The drive home was done in relative silence, a million thoughts swirling around your head.

You almost didn’t realize that Jake’s truck was now parked in front of your apartment building. 

You both continued to sit in silence, not knowing what the other one was thinking. 

“Hey about what I said earlier…it was completely out of nowhere and I don’t want to give you more to worry about” Jake took the leap.

“Can we just forget about it?”

You decided to not make it any harder for him, the night already having too much drama for you to handle. 

“Don’t worry about it Jake, consider it forgotten.” You smiled at him finally unbuckling yourself. 

“But I meant it, you are so beautiful, both inside and out. I know it, and even though Bradshaw is a moron, he knows it too.” 

“I just wish you knew it.” 

“Thank you Jake…for everything.” You tell him softly. 

“Good luck tomorrow Hangman, try your best to come back okay? I still need my best friend alive and well.” You gave him the most genuine smile you could muster. 

“I’ll try my best Honey.” Giving you that signature dazzling Seresin smile. 

And with a final kiss on his cheek, you jumped of the truck and back into your lonely apartment. 

——————————————————————————————-

You couldn’t bring yourself to sleep even if you wanted to. 

When did life get so complicated?

You were missing the quiet existence you were living before that faithful mission and that indecorous call. 

But you knew deep down that you would never trade the time you had with Bradley for anything. Even though it did end as painfully as it did. 

You were laid on your bed staring at the ceiling, you’ve run out of tears to cry hours ago, and now you were just numb. 

The events that transpired earlier that evening were definitely part of the reason for your restlessness, but you also couldn’t feel panicked about the mission that Bradley and Jake were about to embark on. 

Technically you did give Bradley a proper goodbye, but it obviously didn’t go quite as you hoped, even though it did prove your previously thought irrational musings correct. 

But the satisfaction you usually had about being proven right was absent and all you felt was dread. But this is how it's meant to be. 

If (and hopefully when) the three aviators return from the mission, Bradley will return to Amanda, who he rightly belonged. He will continue to be well known in the Navy community, hell he might even get another promotion.

And you would just be back to being another ATC, back to being invisible. 

An incredibly hard pill to swallow but one that you always knew you had to take. 

Your bedside alarm flashed the time, 4:15am. In less than an hour they will be well on their way to uncertain death and there no use being awake if it’ll be the same outcome no matter what you do. 

You reached to turn off your phone for the night, but you saw the notification from someone you assumed no longer wanted to have anything to do with you. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔

2 new voicemails

You took a deep breath before pressing play on the first one.

“Hey Cloud.. Oh sorry”

He apolgized before correcting himself and saying your name.

“I know that this is coming too late, and you probably won’t hear until I’ve already gone. I honestly don’t know if you’ll hear this message at all, honestly I wouldn't blame you if you just deleted this message once you saw it was from me…..

“But in case you do listen, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I screwed up so badly, and I was a complete asshole to you. I guess I was so in my head about the mission, Mandy, and how you ended things with us, that I ignored what was always in front of me. Every moment I spent talking to you made so indescribably happy, it was like I was on Cloud 9, every single day I heard your voice. All I’ve wanted these past few months was you, to see you, to finally touch you and prove to myself that you weren’t just a figment of my imagination. ”

“When you came up to me earlier tonight, and finally make what I’ve been wishing for a reality, I fucked it up by being an idiot. I was so caught up in my own bullshit that while I did hear your voice and your words, I wasn’t listening. Because if I was actually listening I would’ve found you a long time ago. 

“I should’ve know it was you…from the moment I saw you, I couldn’t my take yes off of you. The girl who was so breathtaking that I almost tripped over myself in the hallway. The girl sitting across the room from me in the mess hall whose laugh seemed so full of life. I was even jealous of Hangman for getting to be friends with this beautiful girl. I was looking for you this entire time, when I should’ve seen that you were always there. I was just too ignorant to notice. 

“It hurt that you hid your face and your name from me, it honestly felt like you didn’t trust me. That I was just a little plaything for you. But I can see now that I was wrong. It breaks my heart that you think that you’re not good enough for me, because you are, you are more than good enough. I’m the one who's not worthy of your kindness, your admiration, and your love…”

“I hate that you think you’re just another girl, one whos not worthy of all the love in the world. I hate everything and every person that ever made you feel that way. And I especially hate that I was one of them.” 

“Theres so many other things I want to say, but my point is I love you Cloud. You are the best parts of my day, you make me laugh, you listen to my stupid jokes, tolerate my instent flirting, you give me another reason to keep going. I haven’t had one since my parents died… You made me remember why I loved music.”

“I wish things could’ve gone differently earlier, if I didn’t fuck up so badly, I would be with you right now. And if I don’t come back at least I would’ve still had the chance to hold you in my arms. But I ruined that for myself. 

“So if I never see you again, I want to say thank you, thank you for all the love and support you’ve given me. Thank you for making me feel like I’m on Cloud 9. I really hope you can forgive me, but of course I understand if you don’t. I owe you that much. 

“I promise I will try to come back, okay? I will try to come back for you. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to become the man that is good enough for you.  I love you Cloud, and whether i die tomorrow or 80 years from now… I always will.”

The voicemail ended with a beep. 

Bradley loves you, even after he saw you, he still loves you. 

In fact he loves you not DESPITE all the things you hate about yourself but BECAUSE of all those things. He’s the one who think hes not good enough, not the other way around. And he couldn’t be any more wrong. 

Tears once again coated your face, this time not because of pain and sadness but because of joy. 

You remembered that he sent a second voicemail, you couldn’t think of what else Bradley could've added to make you love him more. It's impossible. 

You pressed play and heard his voice singing “Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You” , the first song he’s ever sung to you, and you couldn’t help but let more tears of joy fall. 

Yet again, he managed to prove you wrong. He was too good at that. 

Then a realization hit you. You flipped your head to see the time, 4:30am.

You have to head to base, You got dressed as quickly as possible, even quicker than the day you woke up late. 

You quickly drove into base, pulling into the employee parking lt not even bothering to check if you were between the lines. 

You sprinted across the tarmac past the remaining planes and to the dock where the aircraft carrier was positioned to set sail. 

Thank God, it hadn’t left the dock. You saw the crew that was manning the mission enter the carrier, it was a fairly small crew due to the classified nature of the mission. You looked around hoping to find Bradley to no avail. 

He was probably situated deep in the carrier, preparing for his mission. You were too late. 

You suddenly heard someone call your name. 

You turned to see Jake jogging towards you. You were a bit disappointed, but glad to see your friend off before he boarded. 

“What are you doing here?” Jake asked you joy plastered on his face.

“Just saying goodbye to my best friend.” You said with a smile giving him a hug. 

When you both came out from the hug,  you noticed Jake looking past your head

“I’m really happy to see you.” He chuckled.

“But there’s someone else who’s gonna be even happier to see you.” He said with a soft smile as he pointed behind you. 

You turned around and there he was. The man whos voice you spent every night falling asleep to, the man you had to remind that if something is unnaturally green you shouldn’t eat it, and the man who you were so hopelessly and deeply in love with.

You were both staring at one another, slowly walking towards one another, only a few inches apart. Not knowing who was going to make the first move or say the first words. 

“Oh hell, am I gonna have to do everything?” Jake exclaimed before pushing you into Bradley’s arms. 

“Thank me later!” Jake waved back as he walked to board the carrier. 

“You’re here!” Bradley smiled, ending your vocal stalemate. 

“I got your voicemails.” You responded also a smile adorning your face. 

Bradley pulled you closer, his arms wrapped you waist and yours around neck. You were now nose to nose. 

“So you know I meant every single word of it.” He whispered. 

“I do.” You responded. 

“And i want you to know.. I love you too Brad Brad.” 

That was enough for him to finally close the distance between your lips. 

You must’ve imagine what kissing Bradley would feel like a thousand times, but none of those daydreams and fantasies compared to the real deal. 

It felt like you were drinking water after a lifetime of thirst. His lift were so soft and firm and it felt like absolute magic. His fingers dug into you waist and you leaned deeper into him as he ran his tongue across your lips. You took the hint and opened your mouth and the minute his tongue slipped in you couldn’t fight the moan that escaped your lips . 

You suddenly rememebered where you were and pulled back, connecting your forehead with his. 

“Sorry Cloud, got a bit carried away there.” Bradley comments with a smirk. 

“Yeah, you think?” You reply with an amused smile. 

“I’m sorry, i must’ve forgotten my manners. How about I take you to dinner first?” He asks you. 

“Hmmm..I don’t know.” You reply jokingly. 

“Come on! Rejecting me again sweetheart? A man’s pride can only take so many hits” Bradley says with a pout

“I’m just kidding, I’d love to go to dinner with you.” You giggle kissing the pout off his face. 

“In one condition..” You added. 

“Oh yeah? What is that?” He asked with a raise eyebrow. 

“Come back alive.” 

“Deal.”

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[ao3-hp-fanfic-reader]

All HP fanfic on AO3 reviewed #1

AO3 took my fic ratings down cause it wasn’t “fan work” so I’m going to transfer them over here.

Basically I’m reading every single fic on AO3 sorted by kudos and then writing reviews of them to make a cheat sheet for fans looking for fanfic

Number one fic is All the young dudes by MsKingBean89

Ok. All the young dudes. This work is famous in the Harry Potter fandom and for good reason. It’s long, has a cute ship, and great character development.

This work follows remus lupin from his 11th birthday to basically Harry Potter and the order of the Pheonix. 2/3 of it focuses on the Hogwarts years, which are probably the happiest and least emotionally damaging to read. I’ve heard a lot of readers stop when the marauders graduate. The rest of the book is the first war and trauma following it. It’s mostly canon complaint (except for the relationship of tonks and remus). Total word count is 526,969. Major relationships are remus/ Sirius and james/ Lily. Trigger warnings for major character death, PTSD, self harm, child abuse, and sad feelings :(

I really liked this! I was super intimidated by the length of it; I’ve never read a fic this long before. But it was very easy to read. One of the best things was watching the authors writing style mature with the characters. There’s a marked difference from the start of the work to the end. It’s a beautiful journey to experience. The relationship between remus and Sirius is sooo good and soon frustrating. Frustrating because this fic is a HUGE slow burn. It makes sense considering they meet when they’re 11, but still, a long slow burn. They’re characterizations were very accurate and consistent. I would say that every single character was in character.

I definetly appreciated the canon compliancy. Aside from remus lupins childhood, which the author gave some creative liberties to, everything could be reasonably seen in the books. This is both a blessing and a curse considering the war… there are no OC’s in here, just Hogwarts kids and shit.

The best way for me to describe this fic is mauraders Harry Potter. It’s basically as long and as in depth. And with a good dose of homosexuality. Similarly to JK’s books, there is no smut. Everything is mostly PG-13. The most graphic thing is death and implied sexual activity but it’s never explicit.

It’s very sad. So when reading this fic, be ready to cry. But overall I’d say it has a happy ending. Things are looking positive and it ends before the order of the pheonix. Lots and lots of feelings that’s all I can say. Every chapter had me smiling and growing aggressively. The author just has fun and puts a lot of emotion into each chapter, no matter what that emotion is.

I would give this 5/5 stars. I would definitely recommend someone to read this. It’s a staple in the wolf star fandom and makes up a large portion of Harry potter fanfiction culture. Though if you’re a bit mentally unstable, perhaps skip the war chapters and end after 7th year.

[dez78]

Let me show you love

This is a long one folks! Hope you enjoy it though. :)

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

Fandom: Star Wars (Post ROTS and Pre New Hope)

Pairings: Boba X Fem! Reader

Warnings: Degradation, Dangerous Ex, Reader is dealing with emotional trauma, Reader is beat by her ex, Use of curse words, (18+ Not really smut, just some kissing and abuse. Just to be safe.) 

Word Count: 3012

Rating: Pg-13

Summary: You finally got away from your abusive Ex, that was until he sent a skilled Bounty Hunter after you a year later. 

Notes: No use of (Y/N), it’s a first-person reader, proofread, but I may have made a few mistakes still.

Additional Tags: Soft Boba, Boba is rough around the edges, but still kinda sweet. 

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

There was no doubt that Boba was good at what he did, he was a tracker and a ruthless Bounty Hunter. If you had a bounty and he was sent on your trail, then you were done for. Even if you ran across the galaxy and hid on the most secluded planet. Boba would find you. No matter what.

I was cleaning the table at the cantina, normal, boring every day. I sighed deeply, but I pinched my lips shut when the crowd of patrons grew to an eerie silence. 

My heart stopped and my eyes widened. My breath hitching in my throat. I heard the ruffle of material and the smack of boots on the floor. 

I looked in my peripheral vision and saw the bartender shakily pointing at me, my world stopped when I saw my face on the hologram in the bounty hunter’s hands. I knew that rat bastard would get me. He had it out for me.

I broke up with him because he was abusive, and he sent the infamous Boba Fett to track me down. Classic and too damn clever. I knew the stories, yet, I still did the stupidest thing, known to man. 

I sucked in a sharp breath and dropped the rag, darting for the back door, I could feel his presence. You didn’t need to be a Jedi to know that feeling. Boba Fett was chasing me down.

Tears streamed down my face as I ran through the streets, pushing citizens out of the way. I was too young to die, but I knew my effort was fruitless. The most skilled hunter was after me. 

With my luck, I tripped and fell. I grunted loudly as I fell flat on my face. Busting my lip open, I scrambled to my feet, kicking up dirt. I slid into an alleyway, my mistake. My heart was pounding in my chest, like it would beat right through my skin if it went any faster. 

I panted heavily as I turned with wide eyes, I slid against the wall and sobbed as Boba’s shadow loomed over me. I held up my hands in my defense, I begged for mercy even though it was pointless. 

“Please…I beg you, don’t kill me! Please!” I sobbed profusely, my face was stained with my salty tears. 

“Please…” I pleaded still, I saw my reflection in his visor. He unraveled his wire from his wrist and wrapped them around my hands, like bounds. 

Then he lifted me to my feet with one swift motion, 

“Stop your crying girl. I was instructed not to kill you. He wants you alive.” Boba said, his voice was resounding even with the voice modulator. I sighed in relief. 

Then he put a gloved hand to my face and wiped my tears away. The act was gentle and it surprised me, so I looked up. 

Boba didn’t say another word as he grabbed me until we were chest to chest. 

Then he flew us back to his ship with the help of his jetpack. I was quiet and buried my face into the crook of Boba’s neck. Feeling sorry for myself really. 

I had gotten away, but now I had to be back in his arms. I knew this peace was too good to be true. 

When we got to the Slave 1, Boba set me down gently, his hands slid up my sides, setting a fire in my core.

I shivered and it was noticeable, but Boba didn’t utter a word as he put his hand on my shoulder and sat me down, then he left me and went to the cockpit. I debated leaving, but then I really thought it through. 

I didn’t want to piss him off. That would be deadly. Although he’d be doing both of us a favor. I sighed deeply and looked at my hands that rested in my lap. 

Boba was gone for a while, but eventually came back. What he had shocked me, he knelt in front of me, still in his full kit. He dabbed my bloody lip with the wet rag, cleaning it along with my dirt covered face. 

He was so gentle with me, it genuinely confused me. From the stories I heard, he wasn’t like this with nobody, he was only interested in the money. Yet this didn’t seem to be the case as he gently wiped my face. 

I could hear his soft breathing. I decided to say what was on my mind. 

“You know, you could save us both the trouble and kill me. You’d be doing both of us a favor.” I stated, he was quiet, I licked my lip; tasting the iron.

“Because I’m not going back to him alive.” I said in a soft voice. 

“Not my choice. Sorry doll.” Boba said to me finally, his deep voice sent chills through my body. 

Did the ruthless Boba Fett just apologize? 

Now, I was flabbergasted, Boba left me with my thoughts however and left again. Not coming back. I sighed deeply and decided to sleep. 

When I finally awoke, I was in Boba’s arms, he was walking with me.

“I told you not to kill her, you idiot!” I heard that voice, I clenched my jaw, by the way Boba gripped me. I could tell he was irritated. 

“I didn’t, you asshole, the ride was extremely boring and she grew tired. Like I am with your bullshit attitude.” Boba said through gritted teeth. I internally praised him with a smile. No one talked to that nerf herder like that. At least not that I knew of. 

Boba set me down, knowing full well that I was awake. I was placed in front of himself. I met the eyes of my ex, Darron. He was just as ugly now as when I left. 

I was bold and projected my lips and spit right in his face. 

“Looks like I have to break you again bitch.” He growled as he wiped my fluid from his face, he raised a hand and slapped me so hard that I fell to the dirt with a hard thud. The air was knocked from my lungs. 

I gasped for air as my eyes widened, I clawed at the dirt, trying to escape, but Darron stopped me with a boot on my back. 

“Don’t leave, I just got you back.” He said, I could hear the smirk in his voice. 

“You fucking son of bitch! You put Fett on my trail, I always knew you were a coward. Too much of bitch to do your own work.” I hissed vilely, I don't know where the sudden boldness came from except the fact that I survived Boba’s wrath. 

“You thought you could just break up with me like that? And escape?” Darron hissed as he got down to his knees, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him. I could hear my jaw cracking. I cried out in pain. 

My tears flooded back to my eyes, 

“You were supposed to rule with me, but now you’ve earned the title slave, you little slut.” Darron growled as he picked me up. I cried out as he grabbed my hair and threw me back to the ground, I rolled in the dirt.  

I caught a glimpse of Boba being paid by Connor, Darron’s right hand man. Yet he stayed, it was brief that my eyes met his before Darron slammed me against the wall. 

“Or maybe I should kill you now.” Darron snarled, his crazy eyes brought all that fear back. The years’ worth of training my mentality, all gone, I started to sob as Darron punched me in the face before slamming me against the wall, his hands going to my throat; choking me. 

I gurgled and my eyes widened, I kicked my feet, desperate to get free as I tore at his hands that clasped around my throat. 

My vision started fading from blurry to black, when my life flashed before my eyes, the pressure was gone. I dropped to the ground, holding my throat instinctively as I coughed violently. I looked up through hazy vision and saw a scene I wasn’t expecting.

“You dare lay a hand on the woman you claimed to love!” Boba snarled as he held Darron against the same wall by his throat. Darron struggled like I had seconds ago, only Boba wasn’t so kind and I heard the nasty crunch of bones breaking.

My eyes widened, 

“We’re leaving princess.” Boba announced as he dropped the limp body before hoisting me over his shoulder, he walked by the shocked faces and shot them all dead without even having to look.

We boarded the Slave 1, he sat me in the same spot and went to the cockpit, I was still in shock. 

Boba Fett just saved my life….

It was quiet for a while as I sat there, thinking of all that just happened in those moments. My ex was truly gone, I was a free woman. Free of his cruelty. Though I had a new problem. 

I looked up when I heard footsteps. 

I was now Boba Fett’s prisoner or his prize, however he saw me. He walked up to me and undid my bounds, he knelt there a while looking like he was deep in thought. My small hands in his large ones. I finally mustered up the courage and looked at him. 

“Why did you save me?” I questioned, to my dismay, Boba let go of my hands. 

“It seemed right at the time.” He replied gruffly, he stood tall and left me with my thoughts again. I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes at him. I followed him through the Slave 1 as it flew through hyperspace. 

“You must have had a reason.” I voiced, Boba just walked in front of me. Ignoring me. 

“I heard the stories of you. You’re not kind to your bounties, not gentle, not caring.” I listed off things, 

“Those are the stories sweetheart.” Boba told me, that made me less satisfied and I groaned irritably. 

“But-” I was cut off, when Boba turned around. 

“Don’t test me girl, I saved your neck. I did it for my own reasons. Quit questioning me.” He was stern, but not yelling. I froze and I could have sworn I saw him relax his imposing stature. 

“Get some rest. It’s going to be a long ass ride.” He gruffed as he walked away. 

“I’m not tired.” I stated while folding my arms. 

“You always this chatty?” Boba asked, 

“Only with the heroes.” I said boldly. 

“Don’t see me as such. Read a book, eat something, sleep. Just stay out of my way.” Boba scolded me as he finally turned away and marched up to the cockpit. I sighed with a lopsided frown. 

After a while of sitting, I went to the cook top in the small kitchen space and whipped up something to eat. I grew bold and made two plates. I took the one plate up to the cockpit with a drink and fork. 

“Thought I told you-” 

“I thought you might be hungry. Sorry to disturb you, I promise I’ll get out of your hair afterwards.” I explained as I went up to him. He sighed and took the plate and drink. 

“Thank you.” He breathed, I nodded at him and hurried away like I had promised. 

I sat in the room I assumed was Boba’s and ate my food quietly. 

When the meal was finished, I went to the refresher and got myself cleaned up before turning in. I curled up in the sheets and let sleep claim my form. Boba’s scent was on the sheets and it soothed me, honestly I felt safe with him. I knew that was a foolish move, but whenever I thought about it. It made my heart flutter. 

Soon I was sleeping peacefully. I dreamt of strong arms wrapped around me, kisses on my cheek, and my hair being pet. I nuzzled into the phantom warmth, relishing in the feeling of it. 

The next morning, I woke, feeling well rested. I nuzzled into the sheets and took note of how fresh they smelt. I knew Boba’s scent lingered, but it was stronger than it was last night. I cocked my brow confused, I shook it away and got up. I stretched and brushed out my locks of hair before dressing myself. 

When I got out to the main hall, I noticed the ship touching down. I looked up when Boba came down, he ushered me towards the door, I followed him blindly. 

The door opened and I saw a familiar setting, I audibly gasped. 

“Alright girl, off my ship!” Boba told me as he pushed me forward, I stumbled and held onto the door. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, stunned. 

“You’re home. You’re free.” Boba said,

“I got my money, your ex is dead, and you still live. We’re even.” Boba told me. I was visibly shaken. 

“Will I ever see you again?” I questioned, still holding onto his ship. 

“Doubt it. Unless you piss someone else off.” He teased, I chuckled a little. 

“Now off. I have places to be.” Boba said to me. A wave of feelings overwhelmed me, I didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t make me say it again.” Boba threatened me now, I stomped my foot down. 

“Not until you give me a few answers.” I demanded. Boba rolled his eyes, it was noticeable by the roll of his neck and his loud groan of disapproval.

“Fine. Ask away.” He encouraged me. 

“Why did you save me?” I asked, going up to him. He didn’t move as he spoke firmly, 

“Because a pretty thing like you deserves better.” Boba replied. His words stung me, he thought I was pretty, something I haven’t thought of myself for a long time. The want of needing to stay with him, growing stronger. 

I licked my lips, clearly caught off guard. I blinked back a few tears, 

“Did you hold me last night?” I questioned in a shaky voice, 

“You were in my bed, I was tired.” Boba stated gruffly. 

“You kissed my cheeks and pet my hair.” I accused him. 

“You felt that?” He questioned, clearly surprised. 

“I did. I heard your Mando pet names too.” I glared daggers at him. He moved a little bit. 

“What did I say?” He asked me, clearly confident.

“You called me mesh’la and cyar’ika.” I told him, patting myself on the back for learning Mando in school. Now that made the Bounty Hunter falter in his step. I smirked, praising myself. 

“Go now, I’m sure your family is worried.” Boba said, his words were soft as was his voice. My lip quivered. 

“They’re dead. Doubt it.” I replied meekly with glossy eyes. It was the truth, my family was murdered by Death Watch ages ago. Boba groaned loudly, 

“Friends?” He asked, 

“Keep to myself.” I replied. Still lost in my grief. 

“But I’m sure, I will find some. Thanks for saving my skin. I won’t keep you any longer.” I said with a shaky breath as my tears bubbled in my eyes. I looked Boba right in the eyes. Making sure my face burned into his memory.

I folded my arms as I walked off the Slave 1, leaving him behind. He didn’t want any part of me, I had to stop trying. Even if he did, it was probably for pleasure. Girls like me were easy pickings anyway. So low in confidence we’d throw ourselves at the first person that was nice to us. 

It broke my heart. I was so naive, so stupid, so….

I was lost in thought, so when I was caught by the wrist. It startled me, I was walked back into a wall, I looked up and saw a mess of black curls before a pair of lips were on mine. I gasped into his mouth. 

My eyes widened when I saw the get up. It was him!

Boba was kissing me? I was terribly confused. My dark eyes darted around the shocked faces around the small town, they knew his reputation and they knew me. It was my home for the last year after all. 

When his lips parted from mine, I still felt their heat, I looked up at the towering man above me. He was so…handsome. 

Tan skin, chiseled features, amber eyes, full lips, and black hair. His large calloused hand cupped my face, 

“Then would it be wrong of me to ask you to come with me, cyar’ika?” Boba said in the most delicate voice that I thought it impossible for his person. 

“Only if you wish it of me.” I replied with blown out pupils. His eyes were soft as he spoke with adoration, 

“Nothing I’d want more, mesh’la. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I had to have you as my own. To show you how it feels to be truly loved. If you’ll have me.” Boba was careful with his words. I was shocked, was he confessing love at first sight? 

I couldn’t comprehend what I was hearing, so I just nodded at him and he smiled at me. 

Boba Fucking Fett smiled at me. That same heat came back and I shivered again, his hand was still cupping my face. 

“Then let’s go princess.” He said as he kissed my lips again before leading me back to the Slave 1. I didn’t even hesitate, I followed closely behind him. 

Saying goodbye to my life as a boring bar maid and hello to my future as the lover and second in command to a Bounty Hunter. The infamous Bounty Hunter. 

Boba sat me in his lap as he started up the ship, I curled into him, kissing his cheek sweetly as he flew us off into the galaxy. I nuzzled into him and he kissed my temple as he controlled the ship. I sighed with content. 

Finally my happy ending.