#the extended clip of them on the stairs is so cool

[heeleryuta]

I am not the Wheeler Yuta that you knew before.

[rafecameronssl4t]

arranged marriage au reader where her postpartum depression is so bad. where she barley picks at her plate, and when the doctors check in on her , they scold her for not keeping healthy for the baby to feed off her. and it’s to the point where rafe has to leave a trip early bc it’s so bad

You know I'll come || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: incase you didn't read it before, make sure you read my important notice!!!

Warnings: ppd, angst, mention of fainting

Word count: 2,114

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“Y/n, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” James said with a sympathetic sigh, his gaze fixed on the monitor while you sat on the lounge, your eyes glazed over as you stared blankly at the coffee table. The room was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the monitor and the occasional rustle of Anita’s movements as she adjusted the blanket draped over your lap.

“This is the third time you’ve passed out this week. You were lucky Anita was there to catch you before you could have seriously injured yourself.” James exchanged a concerned look with Anita, who stood close by with a worried expression. The gentle, almost maternal way Anita fussed over you spoke volumes about her deep concern.

“You must eat. Your body needs proper nourishment, not just for yourself but for Leo as well.” At the mention of your son, your eyes flickered up from the table, the name ‘Leo’ momentarily pulling you from your daze. “Where is he?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper as you attempted to sit up, only to be gently restrained by James.

“Leo is asleep,” Anita said softly, her tone soothing. She moved closer, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder as if to offer reassurance. James continued, his voice gentle but insistent, “Rafe has been informed of your condition and has decided to come home early. He’ll be arriving tomorrow morning.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, the confusion evident on your face. “Rafe isn’t supposed to be here until Friday,” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief as you tried to process the unexpected news. “Rafe is aware of how unwell you are right now. He deemed it necessary to return home early,” James explained, his tone gentle but firm.

Your mouth parted in a silent response, the weight of the news settling heavily on your shoulders. James continued gently, “But for now, you should rest. Take these, they’ll help you sleep.” He extended a small container of medicine towards you. With a grateful nod, you accepted the tablets, feeling their cool, smooth surface against your fingertips.

You placed them in your mouth and swallowed, the slight bitterness leaving a fleeting aftertaste. As the medicine began to take effect, James and Anita exchanged a look of quiet concern. The room felt heavy with the unspoken tension of your fragile state, and the soft rustling of the blanket seemed to amplify the stillness. You leaned back, letting the exhaustion overtake you, the weight of the day’s events and Rafe’s imminent arrival already beginning to blur into the dim haze of impending sleep.

~

"Mr. Cameron, there’s news from Mr. Berkeley concerning your wife," Kate’s voice broke the quiet atmosphere of the plane as she approached Rafe, her iPad in hand. She hesitated for a moment, gauging his mood, knowing that any news related to you could quickly shift his temper. Rafe looked up from his laptop, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly, already bracing for the worst.

"What’s happened now?" His tone was clipped, the edge in his voice betraying the unease that simmered beneath his composed exterior. Kate took a breath, her fingers gripping the iPad a little tighter. "Mrs. Cameron fainted for the third time this week while walking down the stairs—" Before she could finish, Rafe’s expression darkened, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Is she injured? Is Leo okay?" His words, though direct, held an unmistakable undertone of worry that he barely managed to suppress. Kate glanced up from her iPad, her eyes meeting his with cautious reassurance. "No, sir. Y/n isn’t injured, and Leo wasn’t with her at the time." A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped Rafe as he leaned back in his seat, his hand moving to rub his temples.

The initial wave of panic subsided, but the underlying concern remained, gnawing at him. He closed his laptop with a resounding thud, the noise loud in the otherwise still cabin. "And this is because she isn’t eating well?" he asked, his voice flat but laced with frustration. "Yes, sir. Mr. Berkeley mentioned that Y/n has been struggling to finish her meals," Kate explained, her tone professional yet careful, aware of how delicate the situation had become.

Rafe scoffed, shaking his head in exasperation. "Of course she is," he muttered under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He stood abruptly, the tension in his body clear as his jaw tightened, hands flexing at his sides. The weight of responsibility, of having to constantly manage his wife’s well-being, pressed down on him. The sound of the plane’s engine hummed softly in the background, creating a quiet that felt too heavy, too filled with thoughts he didn’t want to dwell on.

His thoughts raced, caught between his commitments and the deepening worry that had taken root. Rafe’s decision was swift. "Tell Anthony to turn this plane around. We’re going back to Kildare." Kate blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sharpness of his command. "But, sir—" she began, her voice hesitant. "Did you not hear what I said?" Rafe snapped, his tone cold and commanding now. His patience, already thin, was gone. "Tell him to turn this plane around. Now." His blue eyes, usually so controlled, flashed with intensity as he stared her down.

Kate swallowed hard, nodding quickly before turning on her heel and making her way to the cockpit without another word. The weight of his anger, his concern for you, and the complicated web of their marriage hung in the air even after she left. Rafe stood there for a moment, alone in the silence. His fists clenched as he stared out the window at the endless expanse of sky, his mind already filled with thoughts of what awaited him back home.

~

"Where is she?" Rafe's voice echoed sharply through the grand foyer as he shrugged off his blazer, his tone tense but controlled. Anita, always efficient and poised, was quick to take his suitcase from his hand. "She’s currently asleep on the sofa. Mr. Berkeley just left a couple of minutes ago," Anita informed him, her voice soft, trying to keep the atmosphere calm.

Rafe nodded, his expression tight as they walked deeper into the house, the weight of the past week’s events evident in his stride. "How is she?" he asked, his voice dropping to a quieter, almost hesitant tone. His usual composure was cracking, revealing the concern he so rarely let show. Anita glanced up at him, catching the rare flicker of vulnerability in his face.

A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips, sensing the subtle change in his demeanor. "She’s doing better. She ate a full meal last night and this morning," she replied, her words laced with reassurance. Rafe’s shoulders visibly relaxed at the news, though only slightly. "Good," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

As they reached the living room, the soft flicker of the TV caught his attention. The sound of cartoon characters filled the room, a stark contrast to the heavy emotions swirling inside him. Rounding the corner of the sofa, his eyes landed on you—fast asleep, curled up with the blanket tucked around you. Your exhaustion was evident, your face peaceful but pale.

However, Leo was wide awake, his small hands reaching out as he lay nestled beside you. Rafe's heart softened at the sight of his son, so innocent and oblivious to the storm brewing around him. Gently, Rafe scooped Leo up into his arms, cradling him with a tenderness that few ever saw. He pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek, the gesture instinctive, as if grounding himself in the quiet moment.

Without a word, he turned off the TV, silencing the cartoons as the room fell into a soft hush. For a moment, Rafe stood there, holding Leo, his eyes drifting back to you, wondering how things had reached this point—his life so far from what he’d imagined, and yet, here he was, tethered to this quiet moment with you and Leo, torn between frustration, duty, and something he wasn’t ready to admit.

Rafe gently pulled the blanket further up your body, his fingers brushing the soft fabric as he ensured you were as comfortable as possible. For a moment, he lingered, his gaze softening as he watched you sleep, the rise and fall of your chest steady and peaceful. There was a quiet vulnerability about you now that tugged at something deep inside him—a feeling he didn’t often allow himself to dwell on.

With a quiet sigh, he turned away, careful not to wake you. As he walked toward the door, he called out, “Anita?” Anita appeared almost instantly, her usual calm and attentive presence filling the room. “Yes, Mr. Cameron?” she asked, her voice respectful but warm. “Have the chef prepare Y/n’s favourite meals,” he instructed, his tone firm yet carrying an unspoken urgency. “I want her to be eating properly, no excuses.”

His gaze flicked back to you for a second, as though making sure you were still resting soundly. Anita nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. “Of course, sir. I’ll take care of it immediately.” Satisfied, Rafe adjusted Leo in his arms, holding him close as he glanced back at you one last time before stepping out of the room. “Leo and I will be outside by the pool,” he added, his voice a little quieter now, as if the tension from earlier had begun to ebb slightly.

Anita nodded again, watching as Rafe walked away, his steps quiet and measured, the sound of Leo’s soft babbling accompanying him as they made their way toward the open terrace. There, Rafe hoped the fresh air and the familiar comfort of home might bring him some clarity as he processed everything—his thoughts still tethered to you even as he tried to focus on his son.

~

Feeling a gentle hand on his shoulder, Rafe looked up, surprised to see you standing beside him. The colour had returned to your cheeks, and there was a small but genuine smile on your face. For a brief moment, relief softened his usually guarded expression. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly, careful not to disturb Leo, who was napping peacefully on his chest.

You offered him another soft smile, walking around to sit on the lounge chair beside him. Your eyes lingered on the still waters of the pool, the calm reflection contrasting with the heaviness in the air. “I’m fine,” you replied, though your gaze remained fixed ahead. Rafe’s eyes stayed on you, his expression stern, not easily convinced by your words. “Did you eat?”

His tone was sharp, but there was an undercurrent of concern that you couldn’t ignore. You nodded slowly, though the hesitation in your movement gave away the effort it took. “I’m sorry you had to cut your trip short—” you began, wanting to apologise for the disruption, but Rafe quickly cut you off. “Don’t.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for further apologies.

He pressed a light kiss to the top of Leo’s head, his eyes briefly softening as he did so. “There’s no excuse for you to not eat,” he continued, his voice hardening again, as though the frustration he’d been holding back was finally spilling out. You looked at him, studying his side profile as he avoided your gaze.

His jaw was clenched, tension radiating from him, but it wasn’t the anger that struck you—it was the concern buried beneath it. You knew this dynamic between you, this mixture of obligation and care, was a complicated dance neither of you had perfected. Your fingers absentmindedly twisted the ring on your finger, a physical reminder of the ties that bound you both. “At least Leo is doing okay,” Rafe muttered, his voice softening as he made eye contact with you.

“That’s all that matters.” But the moment the words left his lips, he saw the shift in your expression. There was something in your eyes—an unspoken sadness, a flicker of something deeper that you kept buried. You swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat. “Of course,” you replied, your voice steady despite the weight in your chest. You stood up slowly, your body feeling heavier than it had a moment ago.

“I’ll head back inside,” you murmured, already turning to leave. Rafe watched you move, the silence between you thick and uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. Instead, he refocused on Leo’s sleeping form, his hand gently cradling his son’s small body as the feeling of missed opportunity settled heavily around him.

[ladylooch]

I need some unhinged thoughts about Luca and Liv

Especially since Luca is a biggg boy and livy is one lucky girl

A/N: Have fun reading this without squeezing your thighs together, bitches (affectionate) 😈

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: 18+ Content

“Here you go baby.” Luca says from the left of Liv. She pops an eye open, shielding her eyes with her hand, forgetting about her sunglasses on her head. Extended to her is a pretty pink margarita rimmed with salt and some sort of chili flakes. “Watermelon. Your fav.”

“Oooo, this is a virgin right?”

“Yep as virginal as you.” Liv snorts on her first sip, almost sending tequila straight through her nose.

“If my dad could hear you now…” Luca scoffs, laying down on his chaise next to Liv’s by the pool inside the gates of their Cabo San Lucas resort. 

“What would he do?” Luca pops an eyebrow at her from behind his square, designer sunglasses. 

“Well it depends. Is my mom with him or no?” Luca laughs. 

“The only person in the world your dad is afraid of.”

“For good reason.” Liv chuckles, making a mental note to text her parents a presentable picture later this evening. Maybe before her and Luca head to their sushi dinner. 

The February sun hugs the tip of Baja California. Luca and Liv are spending their second all-star break together sunning on white sandy beaches and dipping into cool, turquoise waters of the pool and ocean. The morning was spent sipping iced coffee and reading their respective books. Liv had listened to a podcast while she read and Luca had dozed off until a few minutes ago when he had announced he was getting them drinks. 

After a few more sips, Liv stands, feeling hot and wanting to take her second dip into the pool for the day. She double checks her hair is secure in her large claw clip before strutting towards the pool. Luca watches every one of her steps with greedy eyes. She knows she looks so fucking good today. Her deep, periwinkle swimsuit hugs her curves in every place Luca wants his hands right now. Her bottoms are barely there, showing generous portions of her ass that sways with each movement of her body towards the pool. She looks over her shoulder at him, giving her a sweet smile. 

She has no idea what she is doing to him.

Liv savors the coolness of the pool wrapping around her. It brings her body temperature down to something more manageable. She smells like coconut sunscreen and her deodorant that has been working overtime since they got down here. Her East Coast skin is not used to all this warmth and humidity. 

“Hey.” She hears Luca call to her from where he is still lounging on his chair. She looks over at him through her lashes. “You are so gorgeous.” He calls, loud enough that most of the people in and around the pool can hear. Liv blushes, shaking her head at him hyping her up.

After spending several more calming minutes cooling down, she wades over to the stairs. Luca stands at her approach, holding her towel open for her and wrapping her up in it. In one tug, he has her collapsing into his lap on his chaise. 

“Your seat for the rest of the afternoon.” He murmurs. Liv looks back at her boyfriend. His dark sunglasses attempt to conceal the desire there, but what she feels beneath her gives him away. 

“Big seat for a small woman.” She smirks. Luca grins.

“Think you can make do anyway, sweetheart?” 

“Mhm. I like big seats.” 

“Fuck, Livy.” Luca groans, sitting back in the chaise after sighing heavily. He thickens more beneath her towel covered ass. She presses into him, rolling her hips in a brief circle. Luca stiffens beneath her then harshly grabs her hips to still them. “Be good.”

“That what you want?” Liv drawls, leaning further into his chest. Luca’s arms move to criss cross over her stomach, keeping her tight against him. He spreads his legs beneath her so she can settle in better on the chaise. “Thought you like it when I’m bad.” He chuckles next to her ear, then pulls her ear lobe between his teeth. 

“I love everything about you, baby.” He runs his tongue along the shell of her ear. Liv’s eyes roll back into her head for a moment before she lets a sexy sigh drop her shoulders. 

“Baby?” Liv breathes out.

“Hm?”

“Will you take me upstairs and fuck me?”

“Yep. Mhm. Definitely. Let’s go.” Luca lifts her with two heavy grips on her thighs to stand. Liv laughs, watching Luca hastily gather their stuff together. Once their personal belongings are back in their pool bag, Liv and Luca say goodbye to their full margaritas and rush towards the elevators. 

Inside their room, swimsuits fall, hair clips are tossed, bags become tripping hazards at their feet as they claw their way to the bed. Their mouthes greedily lick and suck at each other until Luca can’t take it anymore. He pulls away roughly, smoothing Livy’s wild hair down as he holds her cheeks so he can look into her ocean blue eyes.

“Need you, babe. Now. Right fucking now. Bend over for me.”

Liv’s palms barely hit the comforter before Luca is stroking his cock through her folds. He glides into her soaked heat, ripping an electric groan from his chest. 

“Oh.” Liv sighs. To torture her, like she has with him in that biking this afternoon, he drags his cock out at a snail’s pace until he falls completely out of her. Then he sets his tip against her pulsing entrance, continuing the same movement until Liv wiggles back bucking for more.

“Who’s are you?” Luca whispers to her.

“Yours.” She strangles out desperately. Luca increases his pace a smidge, rewarding her.

“You know what you’re doing to me with that new bikini?”

“Just wanted to look good for you.” She whines, anything but innocent.

“Yeah? Wanted me to see all my favorite parts in public?”

“Yes, Luca.” He kisses along her back, by her shoulder, then grabs a swaying breast in his right hand. His left hand comes across her lower stomach, pressing in as he drives deep. Liv quakes like cups in an earth quake. “Just like that. Please… don’t stop.” She moans. Her already being so close has pre-cum leaking into her from his throbbing cock.

“Tell me how good my cock feels.”

“Mmmm so good. So big.”

“Yeah? You don’t even need another one to know how good this is?” She shakes her head no, then reaches back to hold his ass. Her nails dig into his round cheek as she begins to help again.

“Wish I could take you on that balcony just like this.” He moves a hand to hold under her chin so she can see the open curtains leading to their balcony. “Give everyone down there a show huh?” Liv’s walls collapse in on him tighter. Luca groans, biting her shoulder. “Fuck, you would like that huh, Livy? Want everyone to see how good you take me. Hmm?” The harsh slapping of skin connecting takes over the room when Luca powers his hips faster. 

“Fuck!” Liv howls, shaking as she tries to hold herself in place. Luca removes his hand from her chin, placing it between her shoulder blades to shove her into the bed.

“But they can’t see your pretty pussy, babe. Cause it’s mine, no?”

“Yes!” Liv wails, gripping the comforter in her fingers. 

“Good girl.” Luca coos, stroking his hand down her side to grip her hip again.

His hand pulls her back into him with every powerful thrust until she trembles in his embrace. Her walls hug his cock and then she moans his name loud enough for the entire resort to hear as she comes around him. Wetness slides down his shaft, curving along his balls as she spills all over him. He echos the sentiment immediately, unable to hold back how good it feels to have her orgasming on his sensitive cock. Their sloppy, wet thrusts slow until they stop completely. Luca eases himself out of her, grinning at the creamy mixture already trying to slide out of her.

He can’t have that.

Luca puts two fingers to her entrance, working his seed back into her. He strokes her internal spot, then coaxes those fingers back out again. Liv looks over her shoulder at him. Their eyes connect and she whimpers.

“Wanna taste.” Luca could collapse into fucking Jell-O on the floor. His sexy, innocent girlfriend turning into a feral mix before his eyes. Liv sucks his fingers until every drop of them is off his skin and on her tongue. Then she sighs happily, flipping her hair as she stretches out on her stomach in front of him, still looking like his next damn meal.

Fuck food. All he needs is her.

They are not leaving this room again today.

[princehrry-writings]

Who's Chris Evans?

hey guys!! i've had this in my drafts for ages and i just finished it so here you go!!!!!

warnings: maybe a swear? revealing a relationship... idk. it's just fluffy

wordcount: 1284

masterlist

you're on the late late show and you're also married to chris.

.

.

.

“When did you and Chris first meet?”

James Corden leaned in a little as you thought back to the first time you ever met the man in question.

“Y/n, Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan are here to see the show tonight. Do you want me to bring them backstage?” Your tour manager asked, walking with you as you went to take your mark.

“Sebastian Stan is here?” You stopped walking, eyes blown wide. Sebastian Stan as in… you’re favorite character from Gossip Girl… was here? At your show?

“And Chris Evans, yes.” He said.

“Who’s Chris Evans?” You asked, continuing on your way backstage so you could walk up the stairs onto the stage.

“You know that new comic book movie, Captain America? He’s playing Captain America.” He explained and it clicked. You had seen the advertisements about the new movie and the preview clip at the end of the Iron Man movie.

Wow, they were here? That’s crazy.

“Yeah, bring them back!” You said right as you were running out onto the stage, your first song beginning.

* .

* .

Once the show was over, you came backstage, prepared to sit down and chill out. Walking into your dressing room where your mom, manager, and a few crew members where, you flopped on the couch, completely exhausted.

The door opening didn’t catch your attention. Your tour manager walking in didn’t catch your attention. But hearing him clear his throat and introduce the two people he brought with him certainly did.

“Y/n, this is Chris and Sebastian!” He said and you shot up out of your seat, extending your hand to shake. A smile graced your face as you looked at the two very attractive men standing before you.

“Hi! I’m Y/n, it’s really nice to meet you guys!” You said, feeling your heart skip a couple beats.

Introductions were made and you all sat down, having a conversation, laughing at jokes and becoming closer than you thought possible for one night.

“Oh, I should take this…” Sebastian trailed off. Before he left, you caught sight of the name on his screen and saw it was Leighton Meester. You tried not to freak out because she is your absolute favorite character on Gossip Girl.

It was just you and Chris left. He moved a little closer to you but you didn’t think anything of it. All night, you had felt a spark between the two of you but you didn’t think he would feel the same way so you kind of just brushed it off. That is until he speaks up after a moment of silence.

“You know, Y/n… I’m gonna kick myself if I don’t do this. I think you’re really cool and I was wondering if maybe you’d want to grab dinner sometime or something?”

“Yeah, he asked me out and honestly the rest is history. We’ve been together ever since!” You finished your story, hearing the crowd begin to cheer.

“That was how long ago now?” He followed up.

“That was uh… that was 11 years ago. Damn.”

“So, you’ve been tied down for 11 years now and nobody’s known?” You giggle as the crowd gasps and laughs, nodding your head. You look over to the wings of the set and see Chris with a beaming smile on his face, waiting for his cue to come out.

“Yeah! It hasn’t been easy but it’s been nice to have a place I could escape to. I’ve seen so many great things be torn apart by the media and I didn’t want my relationship to be added to that list, so we just chose not to make it public knowledge.”

“How did you manage that?”

“There was a lot of going in through back doors and leaving the house in different cars just to go to the same place. A lot of “no pictures please” and “don’t post any of this.” Like I said, it hasn’t been easy.” You sighed, spinning the ring on your finger as a comfort tactic.

“We actually have Chris here, if he would like to come on out and join Y/n on the couch!” The man announced, crowd erupting into loud cheers and screams. He comes out from behind the curtain with that same smile on his face, waving to the crowd and the cameras.

You stood up to greet him with a smile and a kiss.

“Hi baby,” He smiled at you, pulling you into him tightly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before releasing you to sit back down. He shakes James' hand before sitting as close to you as he can and resting his hand on your thigh, resting your hand over his. His other arm curls around the back of the couch over your shoulder. You hear a collective awe from the crowd and smile, looking over at him and catching his gaze.

He sends a wink your way, loving the way your face heats up even after all this time.

“You two are just the cutest!” James cries, pulling you out of your daze and you look back over to him, seeing a gleaming grin on his face. He was very happy the two of you had finally decided to come out with your relationship. He'd been a friend of yours for a few years and was excited you chose his show to be the platform you broadcasted the news on.

Chris giggled and leaned over to peck your cheek a few times, causing your face to burn even more than it already was.

“So, Y/n is it true that Chris is actually a co-writer on your latest album? Under a pseudonym?” James asks, moving on from fawning over the two of you.

“Yeah, actually! Uh, with the lockdown, I didn’t want to go into it saying “Alright, it’s time to make the next album.” I kind of just sat back and said whatever happens will happen and one day I walked into the music room we have in our house and Chris was playing the guitar and humming this tune and I immediately heard what would end up being the finished version of Slow Burn.” I explained, looking over to see if Chris wanted to add anything.

“I had never done anything in the songwriting realm before that. I had always wanted to leave that to her and let it be her thing, so when she asked me to write the song with her it was kind of nerve wracking. Cause there I was, writing a song with a Grammy Award winning songwriter. It was very intimidating!” He said, bragging about your accomplishments like he always did. He’s a very proud husband.

“Well now, Chris, you are also a Grammy Award winning songwriter! Golden Hour won Album Of The Year, didn’t it?” James looks between the two of you with a small smile.

“It did, yeah!” He smiled, looking over at you.

“How many is that for you now Y/n?”

“Uh… that’s a good question.” The crowd laughed, causing a giggle to erupt from you. “11 I think… Yeah, 11.”

“11 Grammy Awards?!” James’ eyes bugged out. You nodded, a blush blooming on your skin. Chris giggled as you hid your face in his neck and the audience followed suit, giggling at how adorable the two of you were.

“Chris, you've got yourself a very talented lady here!” Chris looked over at you with a look you saw often in his eyes. You saw it every day actually, he was telling you he loved you without really having to say it because after all this time the two of you just knew.

“I do, I really do!”

[ddarker-dreams]

The Icy Wind’s Recollection. Yan Kaeya x F Reader [COMM]

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, not SFW implications, implied noncon/dubcon.  Word count: 1.9k.

It began with a hairpin.

The modest, ornate thing sat upon the wooden vanity in a forgotten corner of your master bedroom. You wouldn’t describe it as your master bedroom, per se; nothing here belongs to you. The apartment was leased in another person’s name, furnished to another person’s taste, imprinted with another person’s presence. You were little more than a guest, a specter roaming the halls, flinching at every floorboard creak as if it signified the world ending.

This hairpin is yours, unlike everything else around you. Kaeya brought it home one day, nestled inside a velvet-lined box, the deep maroon contrasting pure silver. From how it weighed in your hands, you assumed it to be genuine, having cost the Cavalry Captain no insignificant amount. How ironic that gift of his would aid you as it does now.

You readjust your wrist, hoping that the new angle will bless your ears with the click sound you so crave. No longer do you bother trying to steady your breathing, or even the trembling of your fingers, such futile endeavors wasted precious time. There won’t be any calming down until this apartment building, the high cobblestone walls of the city, and the lush green expanse of your home nation are miles behind you.

Metal chatters against metal as your non-dominant hand holds another pin inside the lock, while the other tries to wriggle around into the right spot.

Another click.

It’s too soon to be relieved, yet your stomach jumps into your throat at the sound, lovely as the bells chiming from the cathedral at noon. You expect resistance when you turn the lower pin and find none. The door groans open, an opportunity you grasp without thinking twice. Next is descending the stairs in the building. Luckily, no one is around to question why you’re in such a hurry or pester you with other benign questions. Fate may smile down on you yet.

You work your way out of a back entrance just to be on the safe side. A soft breeze tickles your cheeks upon going outside, the scent of freshly baked goods wafting in the air. One of the neighbors must have set a pie on the windowsill to cool off. Oh, and the sunlight, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. It’s all so lovely, so nostalgic.

How long has it been since you experienced the little pleasures in life? How long since your freedom was whisked away for whims you could never comprehend? You can’t say for certain. What you do know is that you’ve missed it, you’ve missed Mondstadt, you’ve missed living. You’d no longer be reduced to a pretty specimen clipped to a board for private viewing. You would spread your wings and fly far, far away from here.

The escape route you had plotted should allow a swift exit without much difficulty. Knights of Favonius guards didn’t patrol the area as frequently as the other gates, meaning your chances of running into him should be greatly reduced. You make your way there with haste, occasionally earning an odd look when you bump into someone, and muttering a halfhearted apology in response. Cordiality isn’t your main concern at the moment.

What you had envisioned wasn’t what was awaiting you. Two guards stood right by the gate, donning the Knights of Favonius garments, their swords sheathed but ready to be used at a moment’s notice.

So there’s no avoiding it then.

You’d rather not have to interact with anyone — especially not the Knights, for the possible connections to your tormentor — though you can’t stop and idle here. That could raise suspicion for overactive imaginations. Anyone who could place you at a certain time would be of aid to Kaeya once he found out, there’s no need to give him information like that so freely.

While not ideal, you accept with a heavy heart that you’ll need to walk past them, extending a greeting to stave off doubt. Friendliness is to be expected in Mondstadt, after all.

You put each foot in front of the next in a slow trudge. The two men pick up on your presence immediately, and before they can give a nod out of courtesy, their bodies stiffen to attention. This difference catches you off guard, sensitive to change as you are in this hyper-vigilant state, and you’re unable to inquire further before a deep voice steals the spotlight.

An arm slithers around your stiff shoulders, the scent of musky cologne with hints of vanilla invading your nostrils.

“Ah, there you are.”

“Captain Kaeya, sir!” The two of them salute in unison.

“Is something the matter, sir?” The one on the left inquires, tilting his head at how you’ve frozen in place like a lamb before the slaughter.

“No, nothing at all, Guy,” Kaeya replies without hesitation. He tugs you closer to him and squeezes, a silent yet potent threat. “This one here has been feeling unwell lately, you see. Running a fever in the hundreds. Dear, shouldn’t you be laying down in bed, as the doctor said? What has gotten into you, hm?”

You can’t speak. Your lower lip is trembling, your mouth dry, as if you had inhaled sand in gratuitous amounts.

Kaeya smooths over your hair, continuing the act with the ease of a seasoned stage actor. “I know, you must’ve been anxious to see me, is that it? Come along now, let’s get you home. I’m sure being away from me all day has been just as challenging as the illness, if not more so.”

“I…”

He all but twirls you around in a macabre dance meant to clip your fledgling wings. It’s too soon, you think. He caught on too fast. Or was he ever fooled? When did he find you? Was it just now, or had he been stalking you from afar, lingering in the shadows with a smirk on his perfect lips as you scuttered around?

You think Kaeya says something of a personal goodbye to the guards. Mentions the father of one, a son belonging to the other. Says to wish his old man well. They laugh, of course, no doubt dazzled by the Calvary Captain’s brilliance; what fools they were. You could picture their next conversation now, buzzing and grating as a fly that lingered by your ears.

“Did you see that? Captain Kaeya remembered my dad. He might be eccentric at times, but at heart, he’s a good guy.”

“Even taking care of the Missus after a long day of work. I hope my wife doesn’t catch wind of this, she’ll start nagging me to be as princely as him…”

The clock strikes twelve and the spell is broken.

You enter his apartment in a trance, warm from head to toe, your heart thumping against your ribcage with ardor.

“So,” Kaeya draws the syllable out, leaning against the wall with a smile that promises nothing but hardship. “How was your walk?”

He glowers at you expectedly, awaiting a response that will never come. The fact that your legs didn’t give out on the trek here is a miracle enough, it would’ve added to your humiliation if he had to carry you back to your prison. You know he wants an answer, even if it’s akin to a mouse’s squeak, but you can’t even muster that to placate him. He’ll have to accept your paralyzed state until you break out of your shocked stupor.

Maybe he’ll laugh it off. He’s done that before when you’ve caused him trouble; laughed and laughed like your defiance was the funniest joke of all.

Kaeya slams his fist against the wall, the abruptness enough to pull you back into your living nightmare.

“Do you remember what it was like before, [First]?”

You assume the question, posed in a low voice, is rhetorical and allow him to continue uninterrupted.

“How lonely you were,” he tilts his head, the skin beneath his all-knowing eye crinkling. “How no one outside of your blood relations gave you the time of day. Oh, you must remember that, sweetheart. I can see it in your face. You know as well as I do that no one other than me would dedicate so much, deal with so much, and what do you do in return? Hm?”

Kaeya’s never been shy about teasing you. He’d poke fun at some insecurities here and there, getting a little thrill from how you closed up like a clam, then working to have you open up for him again. It was a cycle you were unwittingly pulled into. While it was at your expense, he considered it to be good fun. He always stopped just shy of pushing you past the point of no return.

This is different. He wants you to hurt, he wants to cut deep.

“Take and take some more. My generosity isn’t infinite. I have limits too, you know.”

You gather enough courage to speak up, wincing at how shaky your voice sounds. “I just wanted to see my family again.”  

He sighs like you voiced a trivial complaint, his shoulders drooping, and lips curling into a damnable smile. “But do they want to see you?”

“O-of course,” you challenge, indignation over his comment enough to push you past your shell of timidity. “Why wouldn’t they…?”

Something new flashes over his face. Something akin to pity, yet too deriding to be labeled as such; and he strides to where you sit on the floor. You wince at the sensation of cool leather against your skin, his hand cupping your face like an amorous prince. He looks at you then, no longer looking through you, but acknowledging you as a person for the first time since your transgression. You don’t know which one is worse.

“In that case, I’ll have to remember where I buried them.”

Silence.

You sit there, eagerly awaiting a punchline that will never come, a dismissal to soothe your anxieties away. Kaeya can have a bizarre sense of humor at times. He amuses himself in ways you could never understand. Not back then, not now. This has got to be another one of those instances. He’ll drink in your expression of pure terror, as if it were one of his favorite cocktails, savoring the despair before cleansing his palate by saying it was a mere jest. Right? That’s why he’s staring at you like that, isn’t it? Why else would he prolong this miserable pause?

Sensing your disbelief, he continues, his voice a whisper like he was comforting a child over a scraped knee, “I was just saying how dedicated to you I am, wasn’t I? Ungrateful as you might be. I couldn’t have anyone come looking for you, princess, that wouldn’t do. Today proved that you’re a meticulous planner — you should be able to understand where I’m coming from. Empathize with me a little here.”

Tears trickle down your cheeks and he hums, wiping them away with his thumb before they can accumulate.

“You’re lying…” You speak so quietly, you wonder if he could hear the words at all.

“Feel free to believe whatever you want,” he shrugs, a hand sneaking down to play with the straps of your blouse. “So long as you lay back and take me like a good girl. Who knows, I might just find it in my heart to forgive you then.”

The strap falls along with any budding hope you boasted earlier that day.

[viperbarnes]

The Tie That Binds – [Three of Eight]

[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]

Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.

You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.

But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.

Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.

Note: This is entirely un-beta’d so all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading!

<- Prev / Next ->

You’ve just stepped out of the grocery store when you’re half-barrelled into by something big and solid. Instead of falling, like you expect, when the moment passes, you realise not only are you standing upright, but that your arms have been relieved of the two heavy paper bags you’d previously held.

It takes you second to fully process the situation, but when you do, you find yourself blinking up at the smug face of Bucky Barnes, your load now tucked easily under his arm, looking a whole lot smaller than when you’d struggled to pick them up.

“Wha– I thought you were away?!” You let yourself gasp in belated surprise, resting a hand over your heart momentarily. He wears sunglasses, which you find odd considering it wasn’t exactly bright out, but you’re still a little too taken aback by his sudden appearance to really make note of it.

“And miss our shopping trip?” He asks, voice filled with mock horror.

“You can’t shake me off that easy. I stick.” The smugness melts from his features, replaced by something softer as you shake your head at him, beginning to walk.

Almost a whole month and a half of these regular, strange meetings, and the two of you had fallen into something that felt a lot like friendship, but crucially, wasn’t quite. Usually he’d help you with your groceries, sometimes you’d corner him at a cafe and seemingly quiz him on aspects of HYDRA and your capture. It was… comfortable, and you hated to admit it, but you’d sorely missed actual human interaction.

Bucky moves to walk beside you on the footpath, and you eye him. You understand why he wears sunglasses now, at this angle you could clearly see the large purple and black bruise around the ring of his eye, and when you take a closer, less subtle look at his clothing, you realise he’d simply thrown on his heavy winter coat over top of what looked like a blue motorcycle jacket.

“You know I would have been just fine if you had somewhere else to be…” You venture, shifting your eyes away from him as you speak. Bucky glances down at you, and then at his attire.

“Just got back.” He says shortly, though you’ve come to know that was just his way sometimes.

“Most people might go take a shower… get some sleep… not go help some lady with her shopping.” You muse.

The slight smugness returns to his face and his gait and he swings his head to look down at you with a corny grin, only added to by the shades.

“Most people aren’t me.” He tells you cockily, leaning down slightly to emphasise this. He leans back again moments later, as if considering you, and you squirm a little under his gaze.

“Besides, I think you like having someone do the heavy liftin’.” It’s still part of his act, something halfway between a shadow of himself from a different time, and a romance lead perhaps.

You noticed he fell back on humour, on sarcasm or this faux personality whenever he felt like his true response wouldn’t be acceptable. Maybe most people wouldn’t notice the shifts so clearly, but you do. You did the same thing any time you had to interact with another human being.

Still, the way it makes butterflies appear in your chest sends you off kilter every time, not just because it was him, but because it had been a solid amount of time since anybody spoke to you or flirted with you like you were a halfway decent option. Especially someone who looked like Bucky.

You weren’t blind, you’d recognised his objective attractiveness long ago, somewhere in a dimly lit room, where tracing his jawline was a distraction from whatever else.

But it was different now. He wasn’t just the tragically beautiful assassin you were forced to work on, he was… Bucky.

An almost friend.

Bucky.

You scoff at his display, and at any fleeting notion that he’d even really look at you twice, and shake your head.

“I can’t say it doesn’t help on the days my hands shake too much… Lost one too many cartons of eggs to that.” You chortle at your own past predicament.

You miss the way Bucky’s smile falters, and his shoulders drop, and he forces himself to look away from you for several seconds.

“Where were you, anyway?” You ask, changing the subject as you come to a set of lights. Bucky shifts your groceries to his other arm and cocks his head at you.

“I’m pretty sure our deal was that I answer questions about what I used to do. Didn’t think my current shenanigans were on the table…?” You see an eyebrow rise above the lens of the glasses, and roll your eyes.

“Fine. I didn’t want to hear about your sidekick stuff anyway.” You turn away from him slightly only for him to step into your view again.

“Sidekick? You call me a sidekick?” Bucky sounds almost genuinely offended, and you scoff, leaving him trailing behind you when the walking light turns green and you make for the other side of the street.

“Please, you’re basically a professional sidekick.” You can’t keep the grin from your lips now as Bucky hurries to catch up with you, his brow now in a deep set frown.

“That’s unkind. That’s hurtful.” He tells you, truly, honestly pouting.

“I’ll have you know my sidekick stuff is extremely interesting.” He continues, sticking his nose up a little now. You shrug.

“Probably, but you didn’t wanna tell me about it so…” You spin to face him as you speak, stopping on your apartment buildings stoop.

Bucky still pouts as you blindly buzz yourself in, taking towards the stairs right away. Bucky follows, and you realise a little too late that he never usually came inside with you. He’d usually hand over your things at the door. Truthfully, as dismissive as you were being, you were actually rather glad he’d shown up, and you weren’t quite ready yet to part ways.

The rest of the climb to your floor is filled with Bucky huffing about how cool his job was, and you internally wondering if it was too weird to invite him inside. Your fear of the man had all but evaporated, despite the frequent dreams you’d been having, but you wonder if letting him into your home would change that.

Your apartment was your sanctuary. You had escape routes mapped just in case, you’d organised your things so that there was always some kind of makeshift weapon available to you in every room… considering these plans were made with his last break-in in mind, you’re not sure how your subconscious might react to having him physically within your space again.

You act as natural as possible, and when you do reach your door, you force yourself to steady your hand as you unlock it. Bucky had stopped even his playful whining, and you know he isn’t ignorant to the current situation.

Stepping inside, you hold your door open with your hip and casually jerk your head in the direction of your kitchen.

“That can just go on the counter.” You say, cursing the slight shake in your words. You continue ahead of him quickly, even as you hear your door close shut behind you, depositing your purse and coat on the sofa.

Bucky does as you say, and you turn in time to see him step back from the countertop, his eyes darting around the space quickly.

A different kind of anxiety rolls over you then, and you regret having not tidied up a little before inviting him inside.

“It’s a little messy…” You apologise, sweeping some dust from the nearest surface and scrunching your nose. Bucky blinks at you and frowns, opening his mouth, but you accidentally cut him off as another thought hits you.

“And I’m sorry about the cold… The window keeps breaking.” You gesture to the main window in your living space, rolling your eyes a little.

Bucky’s face morphs into a frown as he looks past you to the window in question, a plastic bag duct taped over a portion.

“Your windows broken?” He asks, concern filling his voice.

“It keeps happening. My landlord employs the cheapest handyman in the city, I swear to god…” You roll your eyes again and try to brush it off with a laugh, but Bucky’s face doesn’t change, even as he looks back to you.

“It’s the middle of winter.” He states, and then before you can reply, he straightens, his frown of displeasure shifting into one of determination.

“I’ll fix it.”

---

Bucky replays the clips on his phone one last time, making sure he properly understood the instruction, before he moves to copy it.

A short trip to the hardware store later, he’s back in your apartment, sat awkwardly on your windowpane as he finishes up replacing the lower piece of glass. He’d made sure the piece he’d bought was hardy, and unlikely to cause you future problems. He can’t imagine how cold it would have gotten in your place with a broken window, and tries not to scowl.

You linger nearby, having put your groceries away and offered him coffee, you now sit on your couch pretending that you weren’t watching him.

He doesn’t blame you for eyeing him just as nervously as you had on his first few visits with you. Seeing each other out and about was one thing, but he doesn’t underestimate the amount of trust you were showing in allowing him into your home. Hell, he doesn’t even think he’d be extending such liberties if he were you.

But he’s glad for it, if not only for selfish reasons.

It was easy for Bucky to pretend he didn’t know your status to one another. He’d ignored the little black mark long enough, ignored the urge to seek you out (before he knew you were you) so it really wasn’t that different for him. The only problem, and it wasn’t really a problem just yet, was that Bucky liked you.

He liked your jokes and your sass, he liked the way your expressions spoke louder than your words ever could, and how you didn’t even seem to realise you were making them half the time. He liked that you always seemed to have something interesting to add to a conversation, even on topics he wouldn’t have thought had much interest.

You were smart, and funny and cynical in all the same ways as him, and Bucky liked spending time with you. If he didn’t think it would make you uncomfortable, he’d hang around you a lot more.

Being friends with you was easy, in the same way that being friends with Sam was easy. He didn’t have to hold back certain information, or pretend he was something he wasn’t. You knew everything already, and for some reason, had decided you were okay with him sticking around.

“Do you think you’re going to find your soulmate?”

The question nearly makes him jump, as if you’d been looking right into his thoughts.

Bucky stops what he’s doing briefly and looks up at you. Your lips are pursed and your eyes move from his exposed wrist to his face. He coaches his face into what he might consider normal if the situation were different, and hums.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He clears his throat, and watches you shift your position on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you.

“I don’t know. It’s not really something I have to consider, so I guess I was just thinking about our situations… How it would feel.” You frown as you speak, and Bucky already knows you’re unsatisfied with how you’d answered. He stops completely and faces you, giving you his full attention.

“What do you mean?” He prompts. You think for a moment.

“I guess I just don’t know if I would.” You state, still frowning, though this time for an entirely different reason. Bucky feels something in his chest tighten.

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the most normal person in the world… and I know your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect half, but there’s still choice involved, right? Not everyone chooses to be with their soulmate in the end…” Your eyes turn down to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

“I’m just not sure they’d want me.”

Bucky’s stomach drops at your confession, something an awful lot like hurt shooting through him.

He wants to hurry and reassure you that you were wrong, that you didn’t have to worry, but he stops himself.

He reminds himself that your fears were his own, only he knew for a fact the answer.

“I don’t think you should spend your time worrying about that.” He says carefully. You stop fidgeting and look up at him. He swallows thickly.

“Your soulmate will want you, regardless of if you’re the most normal person in the world or not. And if they’re worried about your past, or the way it affects you now, then they probably don’t deserve you anyway.”

Bucky shrugs, and tears his eyes from yours to continue in his task, but stays fully aware that your gaze remains trained on him.

“If you found them, I’m sure they would want you.” He adds, almost anxiously, his mind buzzing with a million thoughts.

From the couch, you let out a short laugh, the tension in the room lifting a little. He spares a glance at you, unable to to stop the smile that creeps onto his face at the sight of your own.

“What?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Just never took the Winter Soldier for a romantic.” You tease, making him roll his eyes.

Bucky puts the last touches on your new and improved window and takes a step back.

“Would it shock you to learn HYDRA didn’t count it as a useful skill?”

If you like and enjoy, a comment or a reblog would be greatly appreciated!

[truly-madly-slytherin]

The Dark Princess

*gif not mine//credit to the owner

A/N: Hello loveliessss! 🌸 so I’m hoping that my writing in this chapter has improved somewhat from the last and that it is as magical for you to read as it was for me to write ☺️ I appreciate every like, reblog and follow so thank you all so much 🥰🥰 there’s a bit of a jump between the prologue and the main story so this is more of a filler chapter and in case anyone is confused she has the diary because Tom makes sure (Y/N) intercepts it in between Ginny getting rid of it and Harry finding it. Alsooo I suck at introductions so bear with me 😅 Happy reading peoples! 🥳🥳 Italics = flashback/dream, (E/C) = your eye colour, (H/C) = hair colour

Summary: It is the beginning of the summer after your fourth year and you are moving into Riddle House with your father, at his insistence, making you think back to when you first met him during your second year at Hogwarts. You won’t be there for long though... 

Pairing: AU Lord Voldemort x daughter!reader, Tom Riddle x OC!

*I don’t own any of these characters except the OC, all rights belong to J.K. Rowling and the filmmakers

 PROLOGUE

Chapter One

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Riddle House once stood as the most prestigous mansion in Little Hangleton. Now whimpering on top of the hill, a ghostly shell of itself; it’s derelict and decrepit condition reflected the sinister history encased within the walls. Each room explored was more somber than the last, and emptiness clouded the air so thick it was almost suffocating.

*gif not mine//credit to the owner

The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you traipse down the hallway, your father a few steps ahead.

“And now... we have the kitchen” he announces with a flourish of his arm. Dimly lit by a grubby window, the room, like the rest of the house, left a lot to be desired. Tiles hung from the walls whilst every surface was caked in decades worth of dust. Cobwebs strewn here and there, the sink was more rust than steel and there was a large cavity where the cooker once stood.

“It’s.... interesting” you force out, the weak taste of iron flooding your tastebuds as you bring your teeth down on the flesh of your bottom lip. Taking out his wand Voldemort flicks his wrist and the dingy room quickly transforms itself into a modern kitchen.

“Wow!” you whisper running your fingers along the cool marble.

Turning to face you, his nonexistent lips contort into a terrifyingly sweet crescent. “Luckily I had the foresight to prepare your bedroom before you arrived.”

Trudging back through the hallway, you take time to notice the portraits hanging along the wall, a series of black smudges where the faces once were. Wandering upstairs you spot a door with a wooden rose-embossed sign reading ‘Y/N’s Fortress’.

“Here goes nothing” you sigh.

Entering, a gasp escapes your lips. In the middle of the large room stood a king sized four-poster bed, adorned with a rose quilted headboard and white chiffon curtains. To your left was a beautiful vintage french dressing table complete with matching bedside tables decorated in tiny hand-painted black, red and pink roses. The grand wardrobe standing beside it, decorated in the same tiny roses, could surely house more garments than you even owned. To your right hung a wicker swing seat, pink rose buds woven throughout, appearing as though it was made entirely from the delicate plants, positioned perfectly in view of the large Edwardian window. Hanging above the headboard were pictures of you, your mother and father, clipped evenly along a piece of string intertwined with fairy lights, glistening as each scene plays out before you.

“I mustn’t take any credit, Bellatrix was in charge of the preparations.” Your father states watching you from the doorway.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper, tears welling in your eyes.

Voldemort set about fixing the rest of the house giving you time to settle and take it all in. Lying on the soft mattress, you think back to the first time you met your father, a stark constrast to the man you know today.

Sitting at your desk the blank pages stare back at you and your fingers rake through your messy (H/C) curls for the hundredth time. Front to back the diary was barer than the day it was made.

You had been in the girls bathroom during lunch when you noticed something on the floor. Finding a small black book with leather as soft as feathers and gold lettering along the bottom, you pick it up to inspect it further.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle.” 

Your eyebrows crease as the name rolls off your tongue, a frown etching it’s way onto your forehead. What would a boys diary be doing in the girls bathroom? Nevertheless you keep the book, and make your way to class, letting it burn a hole through your satchel until the end of the day. Your last class was Potions and with any luck it would go quickly. Settling into your seat, you spin around to the cute blonde haired boy behind you.

“Is there any one at Hogwarts named Tom Riddle?” You ask him, red hot flames licking at your cheeks as his crystal blue eyes meet yours.

“Not that I know of. And I know everyone who is anyone around here” he snorted. Choosing to ignore the radiating arrogance you turn back to the front, mind racing. The diary didn’t belong to a Hogwarts student at all, so how on earth did it end up in our bathroom?

Your leg jerks up and down repeatedly below the desk and your eyes wander back to the clock. 3:43pm. Exactly one minute had passed from the last time you checked. Ahead of you Professor Snape is droning on about a potion you hadn’t yet caught the name of. 

“And the 5th step in the brewing of the Wiggenweld Potion is...?” Snape drawls out, his beady eyes searching out his next victim. Chewing on your lip you try to concentrate, to no avail.

“Miss Rosier?” His expectant eyes land on you, lips curling into a signature smirk.

“A-add more salamander blood until the potion turns t-turquoise” you splutter.

“Very good. Someone who has obviously been making notes, wouldn’t you agree Mr Weasley?” The air escapes your lungs with a whoosh as he narrows his eyes at Ron across the room. Ron gulps, ducking his head in an attempt to hide the crimson blush now creeping up his cheeks.

Finally the clock stikes 4 and you make sure you’re the first one out, darting between the students and managing to make it halfway through the dungeons before the bell rings out. “Pureblood” you mutter, the portrait swinging open. “Ooh someone’s in a hurry!” Paying no mind to the painting you dash up the stairs.

“Tracey?”

“Daphne?”

With no answer you plonk down at your desk and begin writing.

“My name is Y/N Rosier, and this is my diary.” 

Your (E/C) eyes go round, lids refusing to blink as you watch the words slowly sink into the page. Your small hands vigorously rub at them and yet the page remains just as blank as it had been originally. Your brain scrambles to make some sense of what is happening, but not giving your thoughts a chance to untangle themselves, words begin to materialise across the page.

“Hello Y/N.”

Curiosity trumping any thought of sense, the tip of your quill connects with the aged paper once more. “Who are you?”

“My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.

And I am your father.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. The fluttering birds that previously occupied your ribcage die out as your heart threatens to beat right out of your chest, pumping ice throughout your veins at an ungodly speed. The pounding in your ears nears defeaning as the middle of the book suddenly throws out streaks of blinding light.

Regaining your vision you’re surrounded by stone walls and green glowing lamps. The click-clack of shoes echo through the dungeon as hushed whispers become audible.

“No Tom! I told you- I warned you- I told you something bad would happen- that something so evil would surely have consequences, and you ignored me. And now look! A girl has died Tom!” The young woman vigorously shakes her head, her wild ginger curls bouncing about her face while she scolds the boy. 

“Lower your voice before somebody hears you.” He hisses, the pair coming to a halt in front of you. His lips curl into a sneer as his large hand wraps around her dainty wrist. “I am Lord Voldemort after all.” 

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” she seethes. Snatching her wrist from his grasp, her perfectly manicured finger points at his face. “Your name is Thomas Marvolo Riddle and I am not one of your little followers bowing down at your feet and kissing your arse! And most importantly Tom, I am not scared of you!” She storms off and Tom continues hot on her heels as you scurry behind. 

“For Merlins sake! Fleur wait-” Blocking her path, Tom’s hands come to rest on the girl’s arms, this time gently caressing her skin. “I’m sorry I should never have spoken to you like that, I don’t want you to be scared of me... I forget myself sometimes. Forgive me?” His hands move to cup her cheeks, and her slender arms wrap loosely around his torso as her anger seemingly dissolves.

“Well don’t forget yourself too much around me otherwise one day you may turn around and I won’t be here Tom.” At least a foot shorter than him, his chin rested comfortably atop her head. 

“Don’t worry, Princess, it won’t be long now before I am crowned the greatest sorcerer the world has ever seen.” Her head buried into his chest ignoring the icy tones lacing the boys words.

Your hand shoots to the base of your skull as a dull ache begins to resonate. ‘He needs to work on his landings.’

“Y/N there you are! Where were you? We missed you at supper. And what on earth are you doing on the floor?” Daphne gives you a quizzical look before extending her hand and helping you up.

As you dust off your robes you try to think of a convincing lie. “I wasn’t feeling very well after Potions. I had to run straight to the loo and then came to lie down - I suppose I must have fainted.” With a shrug of your shoulders you begin to change out of your robes, Daphne following suit.

“Lumos.”

With everyone else now asleep you decide to take your chance to figure out just what on earth is going on. The faint glow illuminates the makeshift tent you had created with your bedcovers, an inkpot balanced expertly between your knees and quill secured between your teeth. Opening the diary with your free hand you reposition the wand. 

“Are you there?”

Just as before the ink disappears, so sucking in a breath you stare at the page. After a few moments nothing had changed. ‘Of course it’s blank you bloody idiot. I must be going bloody barmy!’ 

Before you could finish scolding yourself, the words appear across the page.

“Hello again Y/N.”

“What happened earlier?” Not having much time you wanted to get straight to the point. 

“No beating around the bush, I like it. Just like your mother.”

“My mother Fleur?”

“Yes, Fleur. She truly was a wonderful witch. Say, do you think you could do me a favour Y/N?” 

You weigh up your options before replying. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” 

“I will answer all of your questions, but it must be in person.”

“But how would I? You couldn’t even see me earlier.”

“I will show you how, just go to the girls bathroom on the first floor.”

Under the mask of the invisibility spell you sneak out of the common room, diary clasped tightly under your arm. Moving through the dungeons it doesn’t take you long to reach the first floor bathroom. As you await your instructions you begin to feel a strong magnetic pull towards one of the sinks. Unable to resist you move to stand opposite. Lightly tracing the stone serpent beneath your fingertips, your mouth opens and words of a language unknown to you flow out. Suddenly the marble sink shifts to reveal a vertical tunnel.

“Jump Y/N. Jump!”

Without giving it a second thought you launch yourself down the hole. Your face scrunches up like a ball of paper as you brace yourself for an impact that doesn’t come. Landing on something soft and scaly, you open your eyes.

Below you was the largest snake you had ever laid eyes on, with skin the colour of green ivy and piercing red orbs easily the size of your skull, if not bigger. Bowing down, it repositions your body on its spiky head, and begins speeding through the tunnels. Coming to a stop in front of a large stone monument, the creature bends down and gently slides your slim frame off, and onto the wet floor.

As you stand upright, a silhouette steps out from the cover of the shadows.

"My darling Y/N..."

KNOCK. KNOCK. 

Bolting upright, your confused eyes dart around the room. The sky was now jet black and above you the fairy lights were glowing softly in the darkness. Rolling your legs off of the bed you answer the door to find your father standing on the other side, arms tucked neatly behind his back. 

“My apologies love, did I wake you?” he asks with a level of affection you hadn’t been expecting.

“Yes but no matter, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the first place” you reassure him, shrugging off the last remnents of sleep. 

“Very well. I have some unexpected business to attend to, and as you are still new to this house I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone, so I have arranged for you to stay with a dear friend of mine for the remainder of the summer” he states matter-of-factly, leaving no room for compromise. 

“Oh. I hoped I would be staying here for the summer.” 

With your (E/C) doe-eyes and lips pouting just enough to be noticeable, you were the image of your mother when she was sulking, and Voldemort found a dull warmth spreading throughout him at the reminder of the distant memory. 

“I know Princess I do apologise. I hoped we would have the opportunity to bond during your time away from Hogwarts. However the situation is simply unavoidable.” 

“Fine” you sigh in defeat. “So who will I be staying with? Anyone I know?”

“You’ll be staying with the Malfoy’s.”  

[jenomark]

OCTOBER

➔Pairing: Doyoung x Reader (Female) | Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Plot (ft. smut, romance, angst, fluff etc.) ➔Warnings: Drinking ➔Word count: 5,300

➔Summary: You are dating handsome and lovable Jaehyun. You stay at his apartment all of the time, along with his roommate Doyoung. Doyoung has feelings for you, which he doesn’t quite understand. What begins as an innocent crush changes the lives of all three people over the course of seven months.

AUGUST SEPTEMBER

October 30, The Night Before Halloween.

  Doyoung’s eyes followed the sparklers tearing across the backdrop of night. The colors hurt his eyes, but he couldn’t look away from them. His eyes went in and out of focus, fairy lights joining in his vision, vibrant yellows and whites softening around the edges the longer he looked. He was acutely aware of his own breathing, the volume turned all the way up, and the noise of the party cancelling out. All of those things swirled round’ and round’, until the beautiful purple butterfly popped up in front of him.

“What did you say?” he asked.

  At once, the swarm of the Halloween party returned. The music was so loud that it vibrated his teeth. He could hear a distant drama playing out between a girl and her girlfriend, their voices feeling like they were swimming around in his brain. He could no longer hear his breathing, let alone his own thoughts.

“I said, do you want a drink?” 

  You stood before him, a sparkler in one hand, and a cup of alcohol extended like an olive branch. Dressed up as a butterfly in a lilac colored leotard, complete with a gauzy tutu and butterfly wings clipped to your back, you placed his drink in front of him. His eyes swept over your emotionless face before looking up at the antenna headband on your head. Your hair was curled, a fresh short haircut making you appear cute. Not that Doyoung had noticed, of course.

“Thank you.” he said.

  Doyoung was alone at the table. Everyone else was socializing around the backyard, tucked underneath the fairy lights or hanging around the empty pool. He watched a few people hovering around the food, their fingers digging into a bowl of pretzels before airplane-ing them into a cheese dip shaped like a pumpkin. In the corner, a couple dressed up as ketchup and mustard were dancing together, the tips of their bottles touching every time they moved. The yard was big, and it seemed that no matter where Doyoung looked, people were living.

“Why don’t you come join us so you’re not lonely?” you asked. “Me and Jaehyun could use some company.”

  Other than the expansive yard, the house had people occupying it. Doyoung hadn’t been to many Halloween parties, but it was exactly as he had imagined it. There were spiked punch bowls with floating hands of ice, jumpscare decorations and costume contests. Everyone had dressed to impress. It was exactly the kind of scene he avoided throughout his youth.

 Meanwhile, the little butterfly, though as pretty as she was, was one of the more chill costumes of the night. Doyoung looked down at his own and felt a shudder move through his body that wasn’t because of the cold. He felt embarrassment creeping up his neck the longer he sat and thought about what he was dressed up as. He didn’t like the attention whenever he stood up and moved, the odd ends of his costume bumping into things.

“I like sitting here. I’m not lonely.” Doyoung said, which was a lie. He was freezing, hungry, and he just wanted to go home and sleep. “I’m sure you don’t mean that you want me around, since you spend so much time with me.”

  You sat down in the chair next to him and huffed. “Is it the costume? I told you that you didn’t have to dress up in it.”

“I wanted to.”

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “Why?”

  The original plan was that you were going to dress up as a butterfly. You had picked it out at the tail end of September, and Doyoung could see how excited you were about it. For a few weeks after, he caught you looking at the costume, pulling it out of Jaehyun’s closet and letting your fingers work over the delicate beading on the wings. At that time, Jaehyun wanted to do a couples costume, which had worked out perfectly because there was a matching part to your costume: a butterfly net.

“Well, I wasn’t going to let the butterfly go without her net.” he said, his eyes not able to match yours.

  The more Jaehyun thought about being the net to your butterfly, the more he was terrified of being mocked by his friends. He gave up the costume after buying it, deciding to be a sexy James Bond instead. You never showed Jaehyun that it hurt you, but Doyoung was so observant when it came to you that he couldn’t help but see. So, within a week of the party, Doyoung shoved his original costume back into his closet and lied that he didn’t have one. He put on the head-to-toe black leotard that kept no secrets about his body, and put the net and tubing around his upper half. He was your safety net, literally and figuratively.

  You smiled briefly before reaching over and taking a sip of Doyoung’s drink that you’d brought. Seeing your smile in any capacity made Doyoung sure that he’d made the right choice. He felt like a fool unable to move, but it was worth it.

“I’m in a couples costume without my boyfriend.” you said. “There is a joke in there somewhere. You can take it off, Doyoung. You don’t have to wear it for me. I’m pretty sure you’ve already reaped all the embarrassment readily available.”

 Doyoung couldn’t help but laugh. You handed him his cup back and he drank from it, his lips touching the cool liquid, and his eyes boring into yours from over the rim of the cup. He set it back down on the table, picked up the netting from his costume and let it fall back down into his lap.

“Is there a bathroom in this place?” he asked. “I have to go,  but I’m not even sure how to get out of this thing.”

“You might have to take it all off.”

  Doyoung could feel his momentary good mood slipping. He thought about excusing himself to go home and use his toilet. He thought about the moment he’d pass through his front door and rip the leotard to shreds, taking all of his anger out on the fabric. He was deep in his thoughts of destruction when you spoke.

“I can help you. C’mon.” you said.

  You got up, holding your butterfly wings securely to your body so they wouldn’t get caught in anything. Since you were also wearing a leotard, Doyoung could see every curve of your body. He looked at your bare legs, which must have been so cold standing outside for more than five minutes. Before you turned around and held out your hand, his eyes were watching your ass and how the tutu lifted up just a little bit to reveal it.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re one net that won’t be catching this butterfly. Let’s go. I’ll help you take off this monstrosity before I go back to my boyfriend.”

  He took your hand, and you lifted him from his chair with little effort. It was really the bare minimum, but the thought of your strength turned Doyoung on. He shuffled forward, making sure his tubing didn’t catch on the end of someone's wig and pull it off. The last thing he needed was getting into a fight at a Halloween party dressed like an idiot. You kept hold of his hand, weaving your way through the yard, telling him whenever the grass was uneven so he didn’t trip. But when you saw Jaehyun, you dropped his hand.

“What is going on?” Jaehyun said, seeing your face. When he noticed that Doyoung was up and walking, he grinned. “Welcome to the party! You know, it’s really a shame that your girlfriend isn’t here, Do-ie. She would have giggled seeing you dressed up like that.”

“I’m taking him to the bathroom.” you said, getting on your tiptoes to peck Jaehyun on the cheek. “He needs help.”

“I’ll do it.” Jaehyun offered. 

“No,”you said. “It’s okay. I have to go, too.”

  You motioned for Doyoung to come along, but he didn’t see you. Jaehyun grabbed a little bit of net and shoved him forward, nearly making him trip up the steps. Once inside, you grabbed his hand again. To anyone who didn’t know either of you at the party-which was a lot- they would have thought you were the couple.

“It’s just upstairs.” you said, looking back at him.

  The party inside was more wild. People were jumping all around, bumping into him and getting in his face. Doyoung focused on his feet, on moving behind you to get to the bathroom. He felt a little bit like a child walking behind their mother, but one look at you erased that feeling. In your presence, he never felt more like a man in his entire life. When you went up the stairs, Doyoung followed, trying to keep his eyes on the ground, and not up your tutu. Looking at you without your consent wasn’t the kind of man he wanted to be, even though everything in him kept edging him to look.

“Fuck, there is a long line for the bathroom.” you said, stopping at the top of the steps. You got on your tiptoes to look over the crowd. “That’s the negative part of going to a party in a big house.”

“Whose party is this?”

You shrugged. “Someone from Jaehyun’s work. I only come for the free alcohol.”

  Doyoung wedged himself into the back of the line, his body blocking off the entire hallway behind him. You followed, standing to his side, your little butterfly wings impatiently wavering the slower the line moved.

“I appreciate you coming with me.” Doyoung said.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Mmm.” he mumbled. 

  You looked at him. In the artificial light, he could see a sweep of glittery purple eyeshadow on your lids. There was a light blush on your cheeks and a pink stain on your lips. You looked so beautiful that he couldn’t look away. Though people were chattering in the line, the both of you were silent. Even as the line inched forward, neither of you talked.

 Doyoung felt caught up in his mind. He remembered the last few weeks and how pleasant they were. He had stopped being angry about you inhabiting his personal space. He stopped putting so much effort into being unhappy. He watched Jaehyun come and go from work with a smile. He was always there for you during movie night. He even helped you find a job you loved. He had made the girl he was dating his girlfriend, and had finally sealed the deal with her. He thought maybe it was the sex with her that had made him loosen up and feel happy, but he feared that it was all because you had truly seen him. He had been buzzing ever since.

“Why do you do that sometimes?” you asked, leaning against the wall, your wings getting smushed.

“Do what?”

“Stare at me and say nothing.” you said. “It’s like you have a whole monologue going on in your mind.”

Doyoung moved forward with the line. “I do. A monologue about how miserable I am in every situation. It’s not much, but it keeps me from having a mental breakdown.”

“And how do I fit into this?” you asked. “Plotting revenge? I took your boyfriend and now I must suffer?”

  You were joking, but Doyoung could hear the seriousness in your voice. You smiled to keep it lighthearted. You took his net and pulled him forward when the line moved.

“I don’t hate you anymore.” Doyoung said. “Haven’t you heard? My new rival is boyfriends who break promises to their girlfriends.”

  Suddenly, it seemed like the room had stopped moving. You knew he was talking about Jaehyun. He knew you knew. If you couldn’t sense his annoyance at Jaehyun before, you could feel it now. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could also feel your own anger sitting in the stuffy hallway with all of the drunk people, lined up in place that felt foreign. 

“Well,” you said. “I’m glad I’m not the one you hate.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever hated you, truthfully.”

“No? I think it was touch and go for a while there.”

  Doyoung shook his head. You smiled at him and choked back some laughter. His eyes widened in fake anger, his eyebrows raising up an inch.

“What’s so funny?” he asked

“I’m sorry,” you said, releasing a laugh that was like music to his ears. “It’s just that, in this lighting, with the leotard over your head, you look like an egg.”

Doyoung closed his eyes. “I hate this. I’m also glad my girlfriend isn’t here to see this.”

  At the mention of his girlfriend, you had stopped laughing. You coughed and tried to regain your composure. Doyoung moved forward again, nudging your shoulder gently with his to get you moving. You weren’t too far from the front of the line. 

“Why didn’t she come?” you asked. 

“I don’t know.”

  Doyoung did know. When he found out about the Halloween party, he was excited to invite her to her first real event with him that involved other people. She hadn’t met Jaehyun yet, hadn’t really heard of you. She was excited, too. She wanted to be let inside of Doyoung’s life, not just hovering on the outside, spending time at her place, or in cafes and bars that he hated. Because of the whole costume fiasco, she bailed at the last minute.

 You weren’t buying the lie. He could read it in your eyes. Instead of talking about it more, you gently touched his shoulder. “Hey, I am really glad we’re friends now. I don’t know many people who would do what you did for me tonight.”

“It’s nothing.” he said. “You needed me.”

 Maybe choosing to wear a couple costume with his roommate's girlfriend was the wrong choice, especially since his real girlfriend had already picked one out for them to wear. 

“We’re up next!” you said, growing excited. You moved your wings away from the wall and brought them back to their full glory. When Doyoung realized he was staring again, he looked down at the floor.

  It was his turn to use the bathroom. He barely fit through the door. You had to push him inside. As you shut the door behind you, Doyoung heard people groaning about the couple going in to have sex in the bathroom. He blushed, hoping you hadn’t heard them.

You put your hands on your hips. “Okay. How are we going to do this?”

  He didn’t like that you were eyeing him up and down. It made him feel too exposed. Though his junk was covered with nothing but net, his closed fist went to block you from view.

“Oh?” you asked. “You can look at my ass, but I can’t look at your dick?”

“No I-”

You put your hands on his shoulders. “Do-ie, relax. Anyway, you’re going to have to get naked. This won’t work, otherwise.”

“Turn around.”

“But I need to help you.” 

  You grabbed at his tubing, bending it out of shape and pushing it down far enough to free his head from the black condom. You were being so rough with him that he again got turned on. You fixed his wild black hair before stretching and pulling the neck and leotard further down his shoulders. Before you went too far and brought it all the way down his body, his hands stopped you. His touch was gentle, his eyes firm.

“I can do the rest.” he said.

You turned around. “Do you want me to leave?”

  But Doyoung couldn’t wait. He pulled and pulled the leotard down, his earlier Hulk daydream coming true. The top of it was ripping, but he didn’t care. He pulled it down, along with his underwear, grabbed his dick and aimed into the toilet. The sound of his piss was louder than it needed to be, but the relief he felt kept him away from the embarrassment he would no doubt feel as soon as he was finished.

“You’re really pissing with me in the bathroom.” you said.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hold it.”

  You held your hand over your ears, but you were giggling too. The moment was humorous, even to Doyoung. He finished pissing but he had started laughing with you, so there were still little bits dribbling out.

“How.. much.. more do you.. h-have?” you asked, your voice coming out in wisps.

“Don’t make fun of me!”

  You crossed your arms over your chest, and when Doyoung said he was decent, you turned back around to face him. The leotard was halfway up his chest because it was all he could get back up by himself. 

“That was the best piss I’ve ever taken.” he said.

“Let me help you.” you said, ignoring him.

  You yanked up the remaining length of his costume but kept the netting, tubing and the part that covered his head free. He was sweaty, and as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he thought he looked kind of sexy. He looked at you to see if maybe you thought the same, but you weren’t looking at him.

“Move.” you said. “I have to go, too.”

“Here? With me?”

“Well, yeah. Where else will I go?”

“I can wait outside.”

“No need.’

You pushed past him and started taking off your wings. “Just turn around and don’t listen. I have a shy bladder.”

  But it was hard for Doyoung not to listen. He had seen you in indecent ways since Jaehyun started dating you, but somehow, hearing your clothes hitting the floor and your naked body sitting on the toilet, it was a new kind of intimacy he wasn’t prepared for. It was a moment Jaehyun wasn’t a part of, and Doyoung didn’t know how he felt about it.

“Don’t listen!” you hissed.

“I’m not.” he whispered.

  There was a hard knock on the bathroom door but he ignored it. He was concentrating hard on the tile covering the bathroom floor, trying his best not to hear you peeing into the toilet bowl. But he did hear, and it drove him crazy with a feeling he couldn’t describe.

“I’m done,” you said.

Doyoung started to turn around but you screamed. “No! I meant that I’m done peeing. Don’t look. I’m naked.”

“Naked.” he repeated. 

  He could hear you breathing behind him, hear the way the costume sounded sliding up your body. He imagined the thin fabric covering your breasts, your nipples getting hard. He heard the scratchiness of the tutu snap into place. You turned on the water to wash your hands, and he remembered that he hadn’t either, so he closed his eyes and followed your lead.

“It’s okay.” you said. “I’m dressed, but I need help with my wings.”

He looked at you. Without the wings, you looked like a ballerina. The curls in your hair were falling out from the humidity in the bathroom. He didn't realize how hot it was getting with two people in there at once. He turned off the water and shook water from his hands.

“You’re staring.” you said, turning around.

“Sorry.”

Doyoung dried his hands on a towel hanging on a hook. He took your wings and fixed them to your back, his fingers touching the softness of your skin longer than he needed to. When he was done, you turned back around and inhaled deeply. On the exhale, you gestured to the bathroom door. Leaning over you, Doyoung flushed the toilet and walked out of the bathroom to a bunch of people clapping.

“That was record time, bud.” someone yelled.

“We didn’t have sex.” Doyoung said.

“Fucked her good.” someone else yelled.

  All Doyoung could see was a sea of eyes that wouldn’t understand. Admittedly, he began to feel good that the crowd of people thought you were his. He didn’t believe he was ever good enough to get someone like you. He looked at you to make sure you weren’t upset by the accusation, but your face was lit up with joy. You took his hand and directed him into one of the bedrooms at the end of the hall.

“Yes!” a voice echoed. “Fuck her even better!!”

“Ignore them.” you said, unfazed. “Look at this.”

  In the room you had guided him into, there was an old piano sitting in the middle of it. It was dark in the room but there was no mistaking it. The lights you turned on only made it appear more beautiful and grand, its ivory keys itching to be touched.

“How did you know this was here?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t know anyone.”

“Jaehyun talked about his musician friend. He said he had a lot of instruments in his house.” you said. “I didn’t want to be in the hallway anymore, and my guess was correct. I didn’t know what I’d find when I opened the door, but I think that’s where the fun is.”

“And where is the fun for you?” Doyoung asked, approaching the piano.

“In the not knowing.” you said. “And I’m good at that.”

  He could feel you watching him over his shoulder. Your words didn’t settle in his brain like they would if he wasn’t preoccupied. All of his thoughts were about the baby before him, the beauty in the future. Once he put his fingers on the keys, he didn’t know what would come out, but he hoped it was beautiful.

“How come you never told Jaehyun that you sing or play?” you asked, circling him.

“I never told you I play, either.”

  He looked back at you. You had the good will to appear sheepish. But it didn’t matter. Doyoung was so head over heels for you that any kind of eavesdropping only felt like progression in your relationship. Doyoung pulled out the bench and sat on it. The legs wobbled, but they held his weight fine enough. 

“Can you play me something?” you asked.

  You gingerly sat beside him, your weight joining his. It was a tight squeeze on the bench, but Doyoung loved the feeling of your warm, bare thigh against his. There was also a magical feeling in the air that kept him weighted down where he sat, the future suddenly looking not too grim. Doyoung felt comfortable, content, and free. 

“What would you like to hear?” 

“Anything.”

  Doyoung’s fingers were on the keys. He tickled a few of them and smiled when they played the most gorgeous sound. The person who owned the old piano kept it in good shape. As he geared up ready to play, he hoped it wouldn’t be so loud. He could still hear the music pumping away downstairs and guessed that no one would come in and check on them.

“Close your eyes.” Doyoung said. “Just trust me.”

  When you did as he asked, Doyoung started playing. He never really played for anyone other than when he did recitals as a kid. Growing up, his parents didn’t want him to pursue music full-time, so the piano was meant for chance meetings at music stores and moments that never came but he wished for, like this.

 The song he played was his own. He remembered it, closing his own eyes to play what he had written on paper years ago. It was romantic sitting in the room next to you, your eyes closed, just feeling the music dance all around you. Getting lost in song was his true passion, and though he didn’t plan on it, he started singing. His voice shook, at first. As each second ticked by, it grew stronger and more stable. Doyoung sang his heart out. It made him nervous that he was singing to you, and only to you. The three minutes went by quickly, the end giving out only because he started to feel nervous at what you would say about the impromptu concert. All of the negative feelings flew away when he opened his eyes and watched you clap slowly, your eyes teary, your smile relaxed.

“That was beautiful, Doyoung.” you said. “I can’t explain it, but it felt like I was frozen in time, like I was watching us from above, and everything was perfect and nothing could touch us.”

He felt shy. He took his hands off the keys and set them in his lap. “Thank you.”

“Sometimes I feel like you should quit your job and do singing full-time.” you said.” You sound so good. And the way you play...you’re special.”

“Thank you.” he said.

“I wish I could play like that.”

“You can.”

“I definitely cannot.’ you said. “The only thing these fingers are good for is breaking pistachios open and-”

  You stopped talking when Doyoung took your hand. He pressed your fingers down into the cold keys, his hand guiding you. He held in a key with your hand while his foot put pressure on the pedal. He played his song with your fingers, diligently dragging your one hand and using his other to fill in the gaps. You leaned in closer, your body enchanted by the sound you were making. Your head was almost on his shoulder, and for a second, Doyoung swore he could feel you wanting so badly to rest it there.

“There is so much more about you I’ve yet to learn.” you said.

“I’m a pretty open book.”

You side-eyed him. “Another lie. Doyoung, we’ve essentially lived together for three months. When will you understand that I know you a lot better than you think. I know all your secrets.”

Doyoung let go of your hand. “Not all of them.”

 There it was again: The Silence. Doyoung wanted to close the lid of the piano and leave the room. He wanted to walk his way through the house, passing Jaehyun without saying anything, and he wanted to go home where it was safe. Instead, he looked at you, his gaze falling to your lips. You leaned in first, brave enough to grab the side of his cheek and pull him towards you.

 There was no music in the room, but as you kissed, Doyoung could hear every single note of every laughter you’ve ever spilled because of him, every gasp, every sigh. He moved closer on the bench and put his finger underneath your chin, tilting your head up just a little bit. The kiss that started soft was getting aggressive, the feeling of his tongue wanting to break through your lips. 

 It was the moment he had been thinking about for months. His head was mostly empty of thoughts. There were no regrets. There weren’t any distractions, any inner monologues guiding him. All that was there were your lips and the softness of your hand against his face. He tasted your breath, your tongue, your lips. Somehow, the silence didn’t seem all that bad anymore. 

 But, then, Doyoung’s elbow came down on the piano and the sharp sound broke both of you apart. You wiped your lips and he got up from the bench, his fist up against his mouth and his eyes darting back and forth.

“I should go.” you said, getting up too.

“Right.”

  You walked across the room, passing Doyoung without looking at him. You barely made it to the door before you walked briskly back to him and threw your body in his arms. Doyoung’s hands were up your back, crushing your wings. He welcomed your lips with an open mouth, pulling your body up against his until he felt like one person. You both stood swaying in one spot, making out, and clinging to each other.

“This is cheating.” Doyoung said. You went to kiss him again, but he stepped back. “I can’t do it to Jaehyun, or to my girlfriend.”

“It’s already done.”

October 31, Halloween.

  There were so many empty candy wrappers in the bowl. Doyoung sat on the couch with the plastic bowl in his lap that was meant for trick-or-treaters. No one had knocked on his door for over an hour, so he figured the rest of the candy was his to share with no one. You and Jaehyun were out at yet another Halloween party, and he was left alone to watch old-timey scary movies and think about the previous night.

  He had kissed you a lot. After he said he wouldn’t kiss you again, he had backed you against the wall and kissed you some more. If he were actually drunk, he wasn't so sure he wouldn’t have placed you on top of the piano and fucked you. Still, making out was just as sinful as all of the things he thought about doing to your body. 

  Afterwards, you both went downstairs to find Jaehyun playing beer pong. He was cocky and drunk, and he had no idea that either of you had been gone for awhile. Doyoung couldn’t stick around. He leaned in and let you know he was leaving. You didn’t try and stop him. Ever since, he was wondering if it was a good thing. The less interaction you had together, the easier it was for him to stop thinking about kissing you.

Not really. He still thought about it.

  Doyoung was grateful for the second Halloween party, which he was invited to. He politely declined, citing his need for rest after a long party. Jaehyun thought his roommate got really drunk. If only he knew Doyoung was drunk with love, maybe then he wouldn’t let him around his girlfriend so easily.

 So, sitting on the couch alone didn’t seem so bad in the grand scheme of things. He could stuff his face with candy and wallow in his own feelings. There was a sting of jealousy whenever he thought about you having a good time with Jaehyun, the tail to your little cat costume in his hands. When the worst got the best of him, he imagined Jaehyun tugging you to him and kissing you on the same lips he kissed last night.

 The doorbell startled Doyoung. He picked up his bowl and went to the door, swinging it open with a cheery smile on his face. There was no one there, which made him feel foolish.

“Do people still do that?” he called down the hallway. “Ring the bell and run away?”

  Doyoung shut the door behind him. He rummaged his hands in the candy bowl as he walked back to the couch, plucking out a milk chocolate bar. Before he made it to his safe haven, the doorbell sounded. Quickly, he made it to the door and swung it open. Again, it was empty.

“If I catch you, you won’t like what happens to you.” he called.

  He shut the door but didn’t move from behind it. He would catch the kids who were messing with him. He waited a few minutes but there was nothing. He set the bowl down on the side table and opened the door to see you standing there.

“Hi.” you said.

“Hello.”

Your cat tail was in your hands. You looked worn out, the pink makeup on your nose halfway rubbed away. You smiled, looking down at his empty hands.

“Where is the candy?” you asked. “I heard there was some candy left.”

  Not knowing how to respond, Doyoung looked behind the door and brought the candy bowl. It sat against his ribs, dividing him from you.

“Trick-or-treat.” you said, your eyes not wavering from his.

“Treat. “Doyoung said, dropping the candy bowl on the floor, crossing the threshold, and setting his lips on yours.

[the-nerdiest-insanity]

One More Flight

Roman goes to stretch his wings

This is one of my favorites that I posted on AO3, but it's very sad and was definitely a vent drabble. However, I still hope you enjoy

TW/CW: vague suicide attempt, blood mentioned (not graphic), debilitating injuries (not really graphic and already happened), one mild swear, numbness, crying, and little bit of overworking

Roman stared at the screen ahead of him.

And stared harder. And harder.

When did the words start to get blurry? How long had he been sitting there?

Roman stretched out his back and looked over at the clock on his shelf. Great. He had been stuck at that stupid computer for nearly four hours.

He sighed and stood up; however, something caught his eye. He saw the beautiful sunset out of his window. It seemed to be pulling and calling him.

With a smile, he took off towards the door of the apartment and dashed up the stairs. Sitting there for so long, he figured his wings could use a stretch.

He burst through the roof’s door and into the cool air of twilight. He basked in the hues of pink, yellow, blue, and, his personal favorite, red that streamed across the sky. A few clouds smattered the canvas above, but not enough to worry him.

Roman took a deep breath as he walked closer to the edge. He could see the cityscape stretching for endless miles. Towers, big and small, dotted the sea. Lights were few and far between, sparkling in the waning sun.

He smiled brighter and unfurled his tight muscles, releasing his magnificent wings.

He stared at the view as he stepped off the edge.

He barely dropped an inch before a pair of hands grabbed his arm and pulled him up into a tight embrace.

“What the hell were you thinking?” they rasped out through what Roman could only assume was tears.

Why were they so worried? he thought. He stood there, frozen, as the other held on for dear life.

He was able to crane his neck enough to see black makeup dripping onto his white outfit. Ah, Virgil. Normally he would be upset at something possibly ruining his clothes, but for some reason, he didn’t care. All Roman felt was numb.

“Why would you try that?” Virgil squeaked into his shoulder.

Roman didn’t even have the energy to shrug.

“I barely made it. I was so scared.”

Why was he scared? I had it under control.

“I know how hard this has been for you, but there’s a better way.”

That’s when it hit him. Roman started to sob as he clung onto Virgil’s shoulder. His wings wrapped around the two of them. The glistening whites and gold caught in the dimming light, right up until their abrupt stop. There were still bits of dried blood where they had been clipped.

“Hey, hey,” Virgil started to rub the poor prince’s back where he could, now that he’s a bit calmer, “I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He released his own pitch black wings from his back wrapping them around the pair as best as he could. They never healed correctly after they broke and couldn’t extend as far as they used to.

“I-I-I forgot and… I thought I could… I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry, Virge,” Roman choked out into the other’s hoodie.

“Shh, shh. I know. I did too. You’re safe now, Ro.”

The two stayed out there, long after the stars had come out.

I really hope you all like it. Lemme know if I need to tag anything else or if I tagged something wrong in some way. I haven't been on tumblr long and I haven't post a fic on here before.

Thanks for reading!

My AO3: the_nerdiest_insanity

[yungidreamer]

Trips

The next part of Yungi is here!

Summary: Things don’t quite go as planned on the trip to the museum but sometimes the things that trip us up, force you to move forward. Yunho, Mingi, and their girl have to face fears they have been avoiding. 

Wordcount: 9k

Content warnings: Angst, mistakes, letting fears get in the way of who you want to be, but a happy ending. Discussion of social barriers faced by non-traditional relationships (polyamory) and making future plans. 

“Wow,” she breathed as the three of them stood on the imposing concrete steps that led up to the large classical styled building. “I know we saw the outside yesterday, but I still think I didn’t understand how big this place really is.”

“Let’s go, we’re already a little late today,” Mingi prompted, taking her hand with one of his and Yunho’s with the other.

“I’m just going to point out that it wasn’t because of me,” she laughed, following his loping gate as best she could with her smaller legs. The three of them walked into the foyer, taking in the cavernously high ceilings and monumental architecture of the space. Groups of people were gathered together in patches large and small. Many looked like families, gathered around unfolded maps; or school groups, with teachers looking around to make sure that all of the students they were responsible for were accounted for. 

Yunho spotted the ticket counter slightly off to the left and pulled the other two off towards them to get their exploration started. Yunho pulled out his card and paid the entrance fee for everyone, passing them their little clip pin to attach to their shirts as proof they had paid the entrance fee. Mingi then pulled them to the information counter grabbing a map from there to decide where exactly they wanted to start their tour.

After debating a bit, they settled on starting with the Egyptian wing. All of them wanted to see it and it was located just off the entrance hall. Mingi and Yunho led the way, pulling her along behind them as she continued to admire and take in the broad domes of the Romanesque architecture.

“How tall do you think they are,” she wondered aloud as they tugged on her hands, guiding her through the crowds.

“Very,” Yunho replied with a teasing grin.

“Har har har,” she returned, pursing her lips in faux annoyance.

“He is technically correct,” Mingi laughed, his smile taking over his whole face.

“Ah yes,” she rolled her eyes. “The very best kind of correct.” Yunho leaned down and kissed the side of her head, brushing his hand over the hickey mark visible just below. He straightened up after giving her a meaningful smile, guiding everyone to the right which seemed to be the start of the exhibit. Walking amongst the vitrines, they held hands, poking their heads in to see all of the little things that were there. It wasn’t until they got to the second room that things started looking like what they had expected.

“Makes sense, doesn’t it?” Mingi commented as they looked at a stone statue with one leg forward as if it was stepping forward. “Something had to be there before the Egypt we think of. Nothing comes from nothing.”

“Why do I sometimes forget how smart you are,” Yunho laughed, bumping Mingi with his shoulder and giving him a proud grin. An eye squinting smile burst onto Mingi’s face as he looked at the other boy, a pleased pink rising on his cheeks.

“Wow, look at all the boats,” she said as they walked into the next room. “The real ones must have been pretty big to have so many people rowing them. I wonder where they imagined they were going? Then again, maybe whoever had this made just really liked boats.”

“Maybe it’s like having a model sports car,” Yunho guessed. After a second he stood up and put on the voice of a stereotypical used car salesman voice, “This here boat can have up to 12 human power (humans not included) and can go at the same speed as an obstinate camel but without the swaying and the bumping.”

She tried very hard to suppress her laughter, not wanting to bother the other people in the gallery at that section, but ended up making the oddest sound that was somewhere between a snort, a gulp, and a laugh. For all the world she sounded like a dying seal as she doubled over, in the end drawing far more attention than if she had simply laughed in the first place. Yunho snickered behind his hand for a second before throwing his head back in full bellied laughter. Mingi let out a rapid fire giggle even as his eyes watched the curious looks they were garnering from the other visitors. 

It took her a moment to recover, as she fell back into her peals of laughter every time she looked up at one of them with tears streaming from the corners of her eyes. Yunho used the hem of his shirt under his sweater to dab at the moisture as Mingi continued laughing and patting her head sympathetically.

“I never knew you wanted me dead,” she finally managed to sigh, her lungs tired from laughing as they meandered further along.

“Nooo, baby,” Yunho lifted her off her feet, wadling with her along the line of glass enclosed displays on their way back to the next part of the exhibition. “Not dead, just maybe incapacitated by humor. You know, at my mercy.” With a mischievous grin, Yunho buried his face in her neck, purposely hitting an area he knew was rather sensitive and ticklish on her. 

“Ugghhh, you are the wooooorst,” she snickered, scrunching her neck in a futile attempt to get away. Mingi trailed a little behind them, amused by their antics but also nervously looking around at the reactions of the other people in the room. Most people were happy enough to ignore them, living in their own world as they looked at the exhibits or listened to their audio tours. A few people glanced over, slightly curious but not wanting to be obvious about it. Only one very grumpy looking old man seemed to huff and roll his eyes at them.

When Yunho finally put her down, they both turned back to Mingi, extending their hands to him, inviting him to rejoin the circle of their affection. He smiled and stepped forward to meet them, blushing as he realized he had been pulling himself away, not wanting to draw attention to himself. It was an automatic reaction. He wanted not to think about what others thought. Really he wanted to be proud of himself and who he was, especially with them, to show them off like they did so often.

They knew it was harder on him, things beyond holding hands as they walked around, and they didn’t push it. It really sucks sometimes, looking like some third wheel, he sighed to himself, chewing on the inside of his lip.

“Hey, hun,” she bumped her hand into the side of his leg as she kept her hold on his hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingi quickly assured her, giving her smaller hand a squeeze.

“You sure?” She pursed her lips as she looked up at him. “I know we’ve been drawing a little bit of attention to ourselves. We can be a little more careful, it’s okay.”

“No, I—” Mingi sighed, pulling them a little off to the side of the large room they just entered. He actually recognized where they were in the museum. Not that he had been here before, but they had seen the outside of this during their walk in the park. A long wall of glass and steel enclosed one side of the room, looking out at the park they had walked through just the day before. Inside was a massive courtyard that was an odd mix of stark modern architecture of sandy colored stone, and obviously ancient objects placed sparsely around the space.

“It’s pretty neat isn’t it?” She smiled warmly at him, letting the subject drop for him. “It’s actually really cool to see it from this side. It looked big from out there, but this feels really epic.”

“It’s such a huge space,” Yunho commented looking around the room. “I wonder why there are just these few things in here.”

“I think it’s just to make you feel the sort of grandeur of whatever that thing there used to be,” she gestured toward the square stone arch or entryway that stood somewhere near the center of the space.

“It must have been something special,” Yunho nodded. Mingi gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and his gaze flicked to look more closely at each person that passed by. Their girl gave the boys hands a last squeeze before dropping them and crossing her arms over her chest as she stepped up to look at the two dark stone statues that had greeted them upon stepping into the space. Yunho’s eyes went between the other two, reading the deliberate distance she was putting between herself and them and the sad angle of Mingi’s mouth. Coming up beside Mingi, he offered him a small smile and a reassuring hand between his shoulder blades for a few seconds before dropping his hands and following their girl as she walked along the edge of the still black pool of water.

“Look, I think that’s actually papyrus, like the real, living stuff,” she said trying to find that excitement she had had a few moments ago as she pointed to the small green tuft of leaves that were sticking out of the water.

“I think you’re right,” Mingi agreed, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder. She patted his hand on his shoulder before continuing to walk around the edge of the pool towards the slightly raised center area that had the ruins which had been relocated who-knows-when to the great space inside the museum. They walked along the edge lined with windows, making their way up the couple of stairs to the upper area. Walking over to the low, tiered wall that bordered the water, she took a seat and pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?” Yunho asked, taking a seat beside her.

“I thought I might look up something about this on the museum website.” She replied, opening something on her phone. “Can someone look at the map to see if it says where we are?”

“Oh, sure,” Mingi nodded, burying his face in the map as he took a seat on the other side of her. She kept herself busy looking at the screen of her phone, trying to keep herself distracted from the heaviness that had settled a little in her chest.

“I think it’s the Temple of Dendur,” he said, keeping his eyes on the map.

“Can you spell the name; the last bit, I mean,” she asked, keeping her voice deliberately light.

“D-E-N-D-U-R,” Mingi spelled out slowly.

“Okay, here it is, let’s see,” she cleared her throat. “It says it was finished in 10 B.C. The square thing here closer to us used to be the gate to the temple, which is the building behind it. It seems like there is a lot of imagery relating to the gods and Egyptian mythology including the symbols of the sun, papyrus, and lotuses.  Awww, the god of the Nile has a cute name, Hapi,” She gave a brief chuckle before going back to summarizing what she was reading. “Their symbol was the lotus flower and they had features of both males and females. The seasonal floods were attributed to their arrival.

“The pillars are designed to look like papyrus and lotuses bound together in a bundle. When we go look at it, we should apparently look up in the porch area… apparently there are some vultures carved in there to represent the sky. Mmmm, I think symbolism around them has changed a little since I can’t say I would find it, I don’t know… I don’t really think vulture and temple or something.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Mingi told her when she paused to read.

“Sorry,” she bit her lip and swallowed, hitting the power button on the side of her phone. “I thought it might be interesting, but maybe not.” Starting to stand up and put her phone back in her pocket without looking at either of the boys.

“That isn’t what I meant,” Mingi reached for her and pulled her into his lap, having brought one leg up to rest on the step. “I’m sorry I ruined the fun.” He pulled her back against his chest, wrapping her tightly in his arms, his chin resting on her head.

“It’s fine, hun,” she shrugged, patting his hand for a second before letting her hand drop to her lap again. “You didn’t ruin it, just gave us a little reminder to be a little more discrete. It’s okay, really.”

“No,” he shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed and sighing. “I made you feel self-conscious about enjoying yourself and I made all of us feel like shit.”

“No, I—” she began before realizing she didn’t really know what to say. Sometimes it could be hard balancing his hangups and his fears, but she never wanted him to feel bad about any of it. They both knew and they both understood. It didn’t really come up terribly often. They didn’t do public dates and half the time when they had their regular lunches together on campus, other friends joined them, providing a sort of buffer for him. They talked about school and classes and focused on eating while they had time all together between classes.

At home Mingi happily cuddled, kissed, and was generally excited to reach for them, to touch them, to hold them. She had hoped getting away from places where they knew people, where he risked seeing people he would have to face later, people who might have opinions that might matter in a way, would help him relax a little, worry just a little less what people might be thinking. She really could have killed his father for all the fears he had seeded into his mind.

“I want to keep in mind what makes you comfortable,” she tried to explain. “But at the same time, I don’t want to have to think about everything I do. I want to laugh and joke and tease you both without having to run it through my head and question it. It’s fine, it’s just hard sometimes and it makes me sad.”

“I’m sorry,” He squeezed her tighter, feeling her shrug briefly before starting to pull away.

“It’s fine,” she pulled out of his arms and stood up. “Let’s keep going.” Without looking back, she started towards the rebuilt temple to get a closer look. Mingi cast a sad and apologetic look to the other boy sitting there.

“Come on, let’s catch up with her before she gets away from us,” Yunho put on a brave face, torn between wanting to chastise Mingi for letting his hangups dampen the fun and wanting to make sure he knew that he really did understand it wasn’t on purpose. Mingi nodded, standing up and putting his hands in his pockets as he moved to follow her. Yunho followed along behind them both, wishing it was 15 minutes ago with all of his heart.

“Did you see this,” she said when the two boys drew up behind her where she stood near the far side of the gate. She pointed to something just above the line of clear protective plastic that circled the base. Leonardo 1820. “People really do stay the same no matter when it is, don’t they?”

“Is it really from way back then?” Mingi asked with a good natured laugh.

“Yeah, the info on the website said something about Napoleonic forces tagging that they were at the temple during the Egyptian campaigns,” she filled in, continuing to look at the out of place lettering on the temple. After a beat, she turned and continued into the temple itself. The boys followed quietly as they walked through the small structure and back out, heading for the other side exhibition they hadn’t seen yet. They made their way through the rest of the rooms with only half hearted observations on some of the beautiful objects they passed.

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” she said before stepping away and into the doorway marked with the iconic ‘woman’ shaped symbol.

“Mingi, you know how much I love you, right?” Yunho said quietly as he stood close enough to him to not be overheard.

“Yeah,” Mingi nodded, looking down at his shoes.

“I’m just… I’m apologizing now, sort of,” Yunho took a deep breath. “I can’t put your hangups first today. I’m going to hug our girl and put her first today. She put a lot into planning this and she’s trying really hard to be good for you but I can’t take that hollow look on her face today.”

“Yunho, I didn’t mean to…” Mingi shifted on his feet.

“I know,” Yunho nodded, sticking his thumbs in his belt loops. “I’m gonna show her off. I want everyone to know that she’s my girl at least. If you can come around and do the same comfortably, I would love to do the same with you, but I’m going to work on putting a smile back on her face.”

Before Mingi could say another word, she stepped out of the bathroom and Yunho caught her by the hand as he said something about wanting to show her something he had spotted in the next room while she was in the restroom. She cast a quick look at Mingi as Yunho pulled her away with an excited smile. Mingi gave her a reassuring smile and took a step to follow them as the other boy looked to draw her back into the objects around them.

“How about the European paintings next?” Yunho suggested when they stepped back into the entry hall from the Egyptian area.

“Sure, if you guys want,” she nodded, looking between them. With a chuckle, Yunho led her up the wide staircase, her hand in his as he bound up towards those galleries. Mingi followed just a little behind them, staying close but mostly feeling like he didn’t deserve to join them as Yunho happily pulled her along, his hand proudly entwined with hers. They paused briefly just inside the large rounded arch trying to decide which of the four doors they were supposed to go in. When they finally figured it out, they started to make their way through the maze of interconnected galleries.

They wandered through a few galleries, largely sticking to the long line of rooms along the front and up one side of the cluster of rooms. They passed baroque and rococo paintings, some familiar and others not, under beautiful light that glowed from the skylight like ceiling which spread a surprisingly even and bright light through the room, leaving no shadows and no real shine on the glossy surfaces of the paintings. Yunho pulled her from painting to painting, enjoying the beauty of them all until they ended up in a gallery which had, at its center. a relatively sizable sculpture of a male and female figure with mythic origins obviously hinted at by the wings that sprung from their backs.

“Cupid and Psyche by Antonio Canova,” she read off the nearby plaque. “Just look at the details on his wings. They look like they should almost be soft.”

“I like how he’s holding her,” Yunho commented, standing behind her and tilting her head back to steal a kiss like Cupid was. She giggled, letting him do it, sharing a brief, light kiss.

“It sucks being a third wheel when people are disgustingly in love, doesn’t it?” A voice startled Mingi from beside him. He hadn’t noticed the woman draw up beside him, her hair cut in an adorable pixie cut.

“Oh, uh, well,” Mingi shifted away from her slightly.

“Don’t worry, I don’t mean it as an insult to them,” she assured him with a friendly smile. “I wish I had a someone who looked at me like that. I’m Louise, by the way.”

“Mingi,” he replied, offering her his hand which she shook for just a second or two longer than was just friendly. Oh, he thought, realizing that she hadn’t just come over to commiserate over him being the odd one out.

“Do you want to go get a cup of coffee at the cafe?” Louise offered. “Maybe lunch? There is a place just off the stairs over there.”

“Oh, thanks but,” he shrugged, taking a step towards Yunho and their girl. “I’m with them.”

“I know,” she nodded, giving him an understanding look. “Your friends just seem like, you know, maybe they would like a little time just the two of them and it might be fun getting to know you, too.”

“No I mean, I’m with them,” he tried again, this time bringing his hand up to rub his neck, hoping to draw her attention to the marks on his neck.

“Oh… ohhhh,” she nodded, eyes following where his hand led. “Well, sorry for saying it but, I mean, they seem to sort of be leaving you out.”

“They really aren’t,” he tried to explain.

“Okay, well, if you change your mind, this is my number,” she handed him a paper before getting on her toes and giving his cheek a quick peck. Mingi blinked, watching her walk away further into the galleries. When he finally turned back to her and Yunho. he froze, seeing both of them watching him and what had just happened. A sadness flickered in her eyes for a second before she broke eye contact, but Yunho’s eyes sparked with frustration and anger.

“You know,” She said, offering them both a watery sort of smile. “I think I need a little break.”

“Babe,” Mingi started, moving a little toward her. But she just stepped back, pulling her collar higher up on her neck, further hiding the marks there as she turned, walking away from both of them.

“Just…” she sighed, pausing near the doorway they had just walked through. “I need a little time to myself.”

After watching her go, Yunho turned on Mingi, looking at him with a tightly clenched jaw. “What the hell just happened?”

“I don’t know,” Mingi shook his head, quickly crumpling the paper and putting it into his pocket and out of sight. “I didn’t mean to let her just… she thought--”

“She thought you were here by yourself,” Yunho filled in for him in a harsh whisper as he guided him through the pair of glass doors out of the gallery and out onto a walkway that overlooked a bright open courtyard space. “Gee I wonder how she could have been under that impression?”

“I’m sorry,” Mingi whispered. “I didn’t mean to ruin everything.”

“You come here with us and spend the whole time practically pretending that you don’t know us,” Yunho muttered angrily. “Then some stranger comes up and, who knows, maybe reads everything right, that you don’t want to be here with us, that you’d rather be with someone less embarrassing than me, and you get a kiss. Not from me, not from our girl; from some stranger. I don’t even know.” Yunho clenched his jaw and looked around, though his eyes took in nothing of their surroundings.

“You need to decide what you want to do.” He finally sighed. “I’m tired of feeling a little like your dirty secret. I don’t know how our girl feels, aside from the fact I know I saw some tears in her eyes as she was walking away. I’m going to go to her. I’m going to take her wherever she wants to go for the rest of the day. If you decide to come too, I need you to decide that you are done being ashamed of me… of us. I don’t think I realized how much it hurt to see you pull away all the time until I saw how obvious it was to everyone else that you didn’t want to be with us.”

Mingi watched Yunho turn back into the gallery, trying to retrace her steps and catch up with her. He wanted to follow but at this point he felt like he was just making everything worse. He felt terrible and he knew that this had all started because he had gotten self-conscious. The one moment of looking around the room, worrying what everyone else thought had just snowballed into him pulling further and further back because of a combination of still worrying what everyone else thought and feeling like, if he joined in, his doubts would infect their fun, drag them down with him. Letting those niggling doubts stop him had just made things worse.

Making the decision, he set off after Yunho. After all, he couldn’t possibly make the whole situation worse than it already was. He would apologize and do whatever it took to make it up to both of them. He jogged through the galleries and back towards where they had first entered. As he exited to the space near the top of the wide staircase that led back down to the entry hall, he found a worried looking Yunho pacing back and forth, poking his head in the surrounding rooms and down the two long halls that stretched down either side.

“I can’t find her,” Yunho said when he caught sight of Mingi who drew up beside him. “I thought she would have just come out here, maybe found a seat to pull herself together, but she wasn’t in the rooms we walked through and I don’t see her.”

“Maybe she just went down stairs,” Mingi offered, putting a hand on Yunho’s shoulder. “If she wanted to get out of the way.”

“Right,” Yunho nodded, a flicker of hope on his face. They both hurried down the steps and into the cavernous entry hall. Staying together they made a big circle, checking every bench and corner as they nervously made their way through the space.

“Did you message her?” Mingi asked when they found themselves back near the information desk again.

“No, not yet,” Yunho admitted, feeling a little silly that he hadn’t done it already. They both pulled out their phones, typing out messages to her and sending them to her in the hopes of getting something back. They both stared at the phones, carefully looking for some sign she had seen them or was going to message them back. Finally both their phones pinged and a reply popped up on both their screens.

I’m fine. Just taking a walk. Don’t worry about it.

“Where would she go?” Yunho asked, a worried look crossing his face as he let the hand holding his phone drop. “I have the key to the room so she can’t have gone back there. We need to go find her. She shouldn’t be wandering around alone here.”

“The park?” Mingi offered.

“Right,” Yunho nodded, it made sense. “But it’s so big… do you think we can find her?”

“Maybe just go sort of the same way we walked before?” Mingi shrugged. “It’s a place to start at least.” They both pocketed their phones, put on their coats and headed out to see if they could find her.

Winding her way through the paths of the park she found herself shrouded by dark thoughts that made her chest tight. This whole trip had been a mistake. She had thought getting away would be a break, that maybe if they were somewhere where no one knew them, they would all just be able to get out of the box of their ordinary existence, relax and be themselves without having to worry. Maybe they should have just gone home for the break. It would mean they would be stuck with their families and would barely see each other for the week, but at least then she would have missed them, felt a pang of longing as she thought of them instead of this hollow pain.

She wiped a tear off her cheek as she sniffled, keeping her eyes on the path ahead of her. Her thoughts roiled in her mind, distracting her from paying terribly much attention to where she was going. All of the doubts, all of the fears she never voiced, beat against the inside of her skull. They felt loud, like they could suddenly echo through her without the dampening effect of their presence.

Mingi might be right. People didn’t really accept trios like them. You were supposed to be a couple. Even if they wanted to stay together, there was so much they could never really have. Even if they told their families and they accepted them… eventually, she laughed ruefully in her head, they would never have a wedding, never have the safety and protection that marriage offered. 

And kids, she shook her head at the thought. They had never talked about it. After all, they had gotten together as kids and they were barely more than that now. How would that even work? Did they even want kids? Did she? If she were honest about it, maybe she did, not now but in some far away, nebulous someday she sort of did.

It probably doesn’t matter, a dark voice said in the back of her brain. You really think you’re all going to last long enough to have to think about it? How many people even end up with their high school sweethearts to begin with? And that’s just when they don’t even have to think about how to balance keeping it all a secret.

A sharp pain stabbed at her chest and a sense of rising panic started to hit her. She looked around, finding herself in a secluded section of the Ramble, she wandered a little off the path, not wanting to have to deal with some random passerby as she fell apart. Taking a seat on a wide stretch of bare rock surrounded by trees, she pulled out her phone and called the only person she could think of at the moment she could talk to.

“Hey Chipmunk, how is the big city?” San said brightly as he picked up the phone, having seen her name come up on the screen.

“Sannie,” her voice cracked as she said his name.

On the other end of the phone San stopped what he was doing, the smile falling from his face at her tone. He asked, “Is everyone okay? Are you hurt?”

“Everyone is fine,” she assured him, wiping her eyes as she tried to pull herself a little more together. “Mostly at least. I’m not bothering you am I?”

“You’re never a bother,” He scolded softly. “What happened?”

“It’s so stupid,” she laughed sadly at herself. “I feel like such an idiot for all of it. It’s just… it hurts and I think things are falling apart a little.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing so dire,” San chided, even as he put her on speaker phone and opened up the messaging app to ask the boys what the hell they had done. “Tell me about it.”

“I think I over reacted,” she sighed, feeling the confusing tumult of emotions rushing around inside her. “But we were at the museum and Mingi got awkward about being out with us. Then there was this girl, and she couldn’t even tell he was like with us. She hit on him, even kissed his cheek and it was like… all of a sudden I wasn’t even sure he really wanted to be with us, with me. Maybe I panicked but I just had to get away from them, so I went for a walk and I’m in the park. I just, I can’t talk to them right now.”

“They don’t know where you are?” San asked as he hit send on his first all caps message to both of the boys.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” she said brushing off his concern. “I just… I think we shouldn’t have come. I’m just tired of sort of hiding. If we can’t even go to a museum where there is no one we are even ever going to see again without Mingi feeling embarrassed by us, then where are we going?”

“Oh love,” San sighed, his heart feeling heavy for her. If there was ever a set of people more meant for each other than those three, he had never seen it. He didn’t doubt that they would work it out, but it was surely harder for her to see from the inside.

“Yunho got kind of mad at him and just started pushing,” she groaned, closing her eyes. “He made a show of being with me but… in the end it just felt like, it wasn’t because he wanted to be there with me, it was just about pushing it in Mingi’s face and I don’t know. I don’t think either of them wanted to be there with me.”

“No,” he tried to reassure her as he read the message Yunho had sent back to him. “I know that isn’t true.”

She called you? Yunho’s message read. Where is she? We’re in the park looking for her, but it’s huge.

“Maybe,” she shrugged, a headache starting to pulse in her temples. “Maybe it doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean,” he scolded even as he typed out what she had told him to try and get the boys perspective on just what had happened. “Of course it matters. I know they wouldn’t want you to think they didn’t want to be there with you. That’s why they are there.”

“What if…” she murmured, finally saying some of it out loud. “What if it’s just habit at this point, what if it doesn’t really make them happy anymore but they are just still here because they just haven’t found something else yet.”

San paused at the hurt in her voice. He wished he was there, and frankly he wished he was wherever the boys were so that he could break their noses. Maybe it was half a light hearted joke that he was her big brother now, but to him at least, it meant something. She and her family had been there when no one else was. The boys were too, but the way she had taken him in when he needed it most had given him a sort of unshakeable loyalty to her.

“I know that isn’t it,” he replied gently. “I know the boys both love you and would do anything just to make you smile.”

“I’m sorry,” she told him softly, chewing at the inside of her cheek as she looked out at the barely budding trees around her. “I probably shouldn’t have called and bothered you. I think I’ll go, just keep walking around for a while.”

“No no no no,” San said into the phone, panicking slightly that she was going to hang up before he could even get it out. “Where are you, Chipmunk? Where are you in the park?”

“Just somewhere in the ramble,” she shrugged. “I’m just going to keep walking. It’s okay.”

“The boys are looking for you, love,” he told her gently. “They want to know where they can meet you.”

“You can tell them you talked to me and I’m okay,” she sighed, standing up.

“I’m not sure I could in good conscience say I think you are okay,” He tried to joke. “They’re worried about you being in the park alone and they want to apologize.”

“Maybe they don’t have anything to apologize for,” she brushed the mulch off her butt and started back towards the path.

“Oh they sooooo have something to apologize for,” San chuckled darkly, telling them so in the message he was sending. “Where are you, Chipmunk? Where can they meet you?”

“Tell them the bridge,” She sighed, setting foot back on the path.

“Okay,” San nodded even though she couldn’t see it. “Will you stay on with me until they come meet you?”

“I don’t really want to talk,” she sighed. “My head just hurts at this point.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he promised. “Just stay on with me until they meet you.”

“If you want,” she sounded tired as she walked. Eventually she found herself on the path from yesterday and before long she was there on the shore where the beautiful curving bow bridge stretched across the short point of the lake.  Coming up near the bridge, she sat on the round plinth-like end of the cement railing of one side. 

“I’m here.” She said quietly.

“The boys aren’t far, they’ll be there soon,” San soothed on the other end of the line. She just nodded, a blank look on her face as a couple of tears rolled down her cheeks, too tired to wipe them away.

The boys had missed her in the ramble with too many possible paths and too many trees to see very far. They had crossed the bridge and had to double back to get to it again. Now that they knew where to find her, they had set off at a jog to get back there. Mingi was the first to spot her sitting at the end of the bridge, her phone pressed to her ear. He called her name as he drew close but the only acknowledgement he got in return was her passing him her phone as she continued looking at her hand resting in her lap. Yunho was right behind him, going down on his knees in front of her.

“Hello?” Mingi said into the phone she had handed him.

“Mingi?” San checked when he heard the voice.

“Yeah, we found her,” he confirmed, panting slightly. “We’re here and I think she’s okay.”

“She isn’t fine,” San grumbled at him. “I say this as fair warning, okay? Fix this. Fix whatever you did today, because I am calling tomorrow and if I hear so much as a hint of unhappiness in her voice, I am taking a bus to the city, beating the snot out of both of you and taking her home with me. Understood?”

“Loud and clear,” Mingi mumbled, properly taken to task. “We’ll fix things.”

“You better,” San snipped. “Make sure she knows that you love her, that you really love her. Prove to her that she isn’t some habit or better than nothing alternative. I never want to hear her doubt that you love her again.”

“We will,” Mingi promised before hanging up the phone.

“Love?” Yunho said as he tried to get low enough to make her look at him. “You okay? You aren’t hurt or anything?” He took her hands in his, rubbing them up to warm them.

“I’m fine,” she said flatly. Her hands were limp in his, neither taking them nor fighting his grip.

“Babe,” Mingi said as he knelt beside Yunho. “Here,” he handed her the phone back. Taking the phone, she tucked it into her pocket before putting her hand back on her jean covered leg.

“I’m sorry,” Yunho told her as he wiped her cheeks. “We’re so sorry about ruining today. Can we try and make it up to you?”

“Not right now,” she sighed, turning her head away. “My head hurts.”

“Oh babe,” Mingi sighed. “Let us help. Let’s go back to the room and talk. We’ll stop off somewhere and get something for your headache on the way though.”

“I don’t know that I want to talk right now,” she told them honestly. Her whole body just felt tired and her brain felt fuzzy.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Yunho promised. “Let’s go back, though, okay?”

“Fine,” she agreed, standing up without looking at them. Tucking her hands in her pockets she started walking, seemingly unhurried in her pace. The boys caught up, each putting a hand on her shoulder until she shrugged them off without a word.

The walk back to the room was awkward and quiet, the boys only breaking the silence she obviously sought when Yunho led them into the pharmacy that was catty-corner from the block of their bed and breakfast. Mingi grabbed snacks and drinks while Yunho went to find pain pills and a few little things to pamper their girl with. When they had everything, they met near the cash register and checked out.

When they got back to the room, she finally said something, letting them know that she decided she was going to take a shower. Both the boys said okay, letting her go with just a nod from each of them. The door to the bathroom clicked closed behind her and Yunho slumped into the armchair in the corner of the room.

“I think I need to talk to San,” he decided, sounding distinctly tired. “She called him and since she isn’t talking to us, I can at least hear what she told him. It will give us a place to start.”

“Yeah,” Mingi agreed, sitting on the foot of the bed as Yunho pulled out his phone.

“Why are you calling me?” San asked the moment that he picked up the phone.

“She’s not talking to us and we just want to know what she said,” Yunho sighed. “Give us a place to start.”

“You two are idiots is where you can start,” San snapped. “Mingi, you ridiculous excuse for a boyfriend. You go out with her and with Yunho and you keep yourself so separate from them that no one can even tell you’re with them and some girl hits on you for her to see? All this on some trip she spent a ton of time and money on.

“And Yunho,” he said, changing the target of his stinging remarks. “You made sure to push it, made sure that Mingi at least noticed how he was lacking. She felt like a toy at the end, like whatever it was you were doing was more about him than her. I have no idea if it was but that was how she felt and you missed it.

“You have a lot of things to talk about and I don’t just mean today. Maybe you’ve missed it but she seems to be doubting your feelings for her. She’s tired of feeling like a secret. Now I think she is being a little stupid here, but its not up to me to convince her she is wrong here.” San sighed. “She’s not sure you aren’t just still with her because you’re just used to how things are. I know it's not true, but I leave it to you to convince her of that. I don’t think all of this is about you, but whatever is bothering her, it’s up to you to fix it.”

“San,” Mingi spoke up, leaning closer to the phone. “You don’t think she’s fallen out of love with us, has she?”

“I think if she had,” San pointed out. “She would have been more annoyed than hurt. Now go fix things.”

“Thank you, San,” Yunho replied before hanging up the phone.

“How did I make one of the most important people in my life feel like she’s not?” Mingi asked aloud, though the question was really more for himself than anyone else.

“You know, she’s not the only one, if I’m being honest,” Yunho took the chance to tell him.

“I know I still let things get in the way,” Mingi said, his voice sounding small. “But you said you were okay with waiting for me.”

“Maybe I’m not,” Yunho shrugged. “Maybe I would if it was just that you were a little nervous, not acting like you don’t even want to have anything to do with us.”

“I didn’t,” Mingi protested.

“You did,” Yunho hissed with a flare of anger. “Enough that some stranger fucking thought it was okay to kiss you.”

“It wasn’t…” Mingi trailed off, having to admit he was right.

“God,” Yunho gave a disbelieving laugh. “Maybe I get where our girl is coming from.”

“What do you mean?” Mingi looked at him.

“Why would I believe that when it comes down to the point where you finally have to come out, you finally have to admit that we are together, that you actually will when you can’t for something like this?” Yunho pointed out.

“It’s not like that,” Mingi objected. “I just… what if someone starts something? What if word gets back to my dad?”

“Right,” Yunho agreed. “What happens when it does? It will someday. Do you really think we’re meant to be? When that day comes, what happens then?” It hurt him to admit it, but he’d had his doubts, too.

“Then you two will be all I have,” Mingi admitted. “No home to go back to, no one to help pay the rent or tuition. Just you two.”

Yunho paused. He knew it was probably true and it was a lot to give up, but if they weren’t worth that sacrifice in the end, was all of this just putting off a heartbreak?

“You know if that happens,” Yunho told him with his quiet but absolute confidence. “You will never be alone. If you choose us, you have us, or I can at least promise that you have me.”

“I know,” Mingi nodded even as he slumped, looking away from the other man in the room.

“No I don’t think you do,” Yunho said, stepping forward and taking Mingi’s face between his hands. “If we have to work twice as hard to pay off school loans because your dad won’t help. If you don’t have a home there anymore… good, you deserve a better one. I’ll make one for you. You can stay with me and mom, or I’ll move out and we can get a place that is ours, just the three of us. I’ll get a job off campus this summer. We can start a bank account to save for all three of us; for our future.”

Mingi looked up into Yunho’s eyes and crumbled a little. Part of him really had believed he would be alone if it happened, if he became too high a price, too big a burden. Having never had that sort of selfless love from his family, it was hard to believe he could have it even from them. It was hard to take that last step when you really didn’t believe there were people there who would catch you if you fell.

“I want to believe it, but it’s hard,” Mingi whispered.

“I’ve never even had the chance to let you down,” Yunho pushed. “You never give me the chance to stand beside you, to show you off. I would protect you from anything I could, but you never give me the chance.”

“I’m sorry I’ve let you both down so much,” Mingi squeezed his eyes shut, pressing Yunho’s hand to his cheek. 

“I can’t promise not to push you on this anymore,” Yunho said plainly, but without malice. “Not after today. It’s just too important.”

“Okay,” Mingi nodded a second before the sound of the bathroom door opening filled the room, having had a volume in the space it could not have had in reality. She stepped into the room, wet hair hanging loosely and dressed only in the loose shirt she usually wore to bed. Her eyes never rose to look at them as she pushed past, she only crawled into the bed without a word. Both the boys pulled apart, moving to sit on either side of the bed as they turned their attention on her.

“Love, does your head still hurt?” Yunho asked, pulling the blanket down so he could see her face.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugged him off. “You should just go to the museum; make the day not a total waste.”

“We didn’t come just to see things,” he pointed out gently. “We came to be together.”

“Maybe it’s best if we think about whether that was a good idea,” she said with no affect, looking at nothing in particular.

“Going out to do things?” Mingi asked, confused.

“Being together,” her voice was barely above a whisper, the first hints of emotion coming through.

“No, no-no-no,” Mingi stuttered out behind her, a sort of panic fluttering in his chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin things today. I’ll do better. Yunho and I, we already talked; I’m going to do better.”

“It isn’t that,” she replied. “It isn’t just that at least.”

“Where is this coming from, love?” Yunho lay down beside her, putting his head on the pillow in her view. “You can’t really mean you don’t see us making it. There is no one else for me; you two are it.”

“You’ll both find other people,” she told him simply. “It won’t be the same. Maybe it will be better, maybe it will be worse, or it will just be different. You’ll find someone who makes you happy enough and you’ll get married and you’ll have little Yuyu’s and you’ll just think about this as a memory or a mistake.”

“I don’t want those things with someone else,” he shook his head, eyes clouding as he even considered it. “I don’t want to build that with anyone but you two.”

“The world wasn’t made for people like us,” she whispered sadly. “We can’t get married, and it doesn’t seem fair to bring kids into a family where everything is precarious. What if you get sick? What if I get sick? Who goes on a birth certificate? It’s just not… meant to be.”

“I don’t know,” Yunho admitted, sniffling as he cupped her cheek. “But I’ll figure it out with you and with Mingi. It isn’t something I thought about, I’ll be honest, but I know we can figure it out. Whatever it takes, we’ll do it.”

“What if we try really hard and it doesn’t matter; it's still not enough?” She questioned, giving voice to the fear that had percolated at the back of her mind for months. If it all seemed hopeless, wasn’t it maybe better not to even try?

“I know I mess up a lot,” Mingi said, putting a hand on her arm over the covers. “I know I’m bad at things sometimes, but please don’t give up on me. Don’t leave me, please.”

“I’m not—” she began, ready to say that wasn’t what she was doing, but if she was giving up, wasn’t that what she was doing? She couldn’t have it both ways, giving up and pretending it was anything other than a choice she was making. Having to face that, the finality of having to make that choice was like a realization. It was easy to pretend she was just letting go like some dramatic heroine falling off a cliff in a melancholic flourish. Being confronted with that being a choice and only and inevitable if she decided that it was, felt like a slap in the face.

She sat up, struggling past the weight of the boys on either side of the blanket, and threw her arms around Mingi. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… it’s just so hard that I can’t see how everything is going to be okay. And both of you. You could have anyone and it would be so much easier than all of this…” She squeezed him tight, burying her face in his shoulder, drying her cheeks on the soft fabric of his t-shirt. “When she hit on you, it was just like a punch to the gut. No one would have believed you were with us. How can we keep going like we’re something to hide? Why can’t you be proud to be with us?”

“I just kept feeling everyone’s eyes on me,” Mingi admitted. “I know it’s stupid, but I’ve always worried about what people think of me.”

“Why can’t you worry about how I see you?” She questioned, pain evident in her voice. “Why isn’t what we see in you more important?”

“I don’t know,” Mingi admitted. “I know you love me and you’re always there.”

“What am I supposed to do when I feel like you won’t be there?” She pulled away slightly, the heaviness in her chest weighing on it again. “I can’t keep feeling like I’m going to be alone if things get hard.”

“I’m always here,” Yunho curled around her from behind.

“I know,” she nodded, running her fingers through his hair. “You never let me feel alone. But I know how much you love him and sometimes I still wonder if… if I’m not just the filler you have that you won’t always need. I see how you look at him. I know it hurts you too that he won’t…”

“I’m not going to say that it doesn’t hurt,” Yunho concurred. “But you’ve never been some fill in for something I’m missing from him. Never feel like you are some consolation prize for me.” 

She nodded, trying to take that to heart. “Sometimes it’s hard not to feel replaceable.”

“I never,” Mingi shook his head and blinked back a burning in his eyes as he felt a knife twist in his chest. “You should never have doubted how important you are and it’s my fault.”

“It’s not all your fault but feeling like you’re embarrassed to be more than just my friend doesn’t help,” She admitted, taking his hand.

“You’re so important,” Yunho assured her, wrapping himself around both of them as much as he could. “You make everything so much better, just by being here with us.” The words were like a warm blanket around her heart.

“I really will do better,” Mingi promised, still looking a little like a kicked puppy. “You scared me when you disappeared. If you had gotten hurt, it would have been my fault.”

“Not your fault,” She assured him. “You can’t hold yourself responsible for my choices. I shouldn’t have gone off alone. I’m sorry.”

“Can we do the shopping tomorrow?” Mingi asked, having something in mind and no longer wanting to put off the day.

“Sure, we can make tomorrow our shopping and makeover day,” Yunho agreed. “Should we see if we can make appointments to get our hair done?”

“Yeah,” A shyness suffused Mingi’s expression. “There are some things I still want to change.”

“Whatever it is,” she said supportively. “I’m so gonna be there for it.”

“Thank you, babe,” Mingi kissed her forehead before pulling her head to his chest. “I’m so lucky to have you both.”

Masterlist

[fletchphoenix]

Families Are Overrated

Chapter 2 of the Varigo Coffee Shop AU! 

Wow, an update today and yesterday! I’m absolutely loving this story and writing it, so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do. Unfortunately, I start school soon so the schedule will most likely have to change (as much as I don’t want it to.)

Word Count - 3,705 

TW - Panic Attacks, Strong Language

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Although it was only Wednesday, Thursday felt as though it was decades away. Up until now, the days had dragged on and on and on. In all honesty, Varian thought the universe itself was extending the length of each day just to taunt him. They all just seemed to merge together no matter what he did to take up his time, it never seemed to speed up. “Why can’t Thursday just hurry up…?” The raven haired boy thought as he picked up his backpack and headed out of the chemistry labs, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen into his face behind his ear and descending the stairs towards the town library.

  Corona was a rather large town, with most streets littered with stores, houses and parks. Oddly, it was almost always unbelievably sunny, the aforementioned rays of the blinding light burning his eyes as he remained on course to the building, causing him to be suddenly very interested in the floor. The town was rather peaceful and beautiful too in terms of crime and layout - though, he did live in the less beautiful, more run-down faction of the city called Old Corona, and ANY town would be better than Old Corona when it comes to crime rates or general beauty. 

  After around 10 minutes of walking, he found himself outside of the doors he knew so well - the doors to the Coronan Library. His mom used to joke, always calling it the “Eternal Library” because of its tremendous size. Before her and his dad split up. He missed her a lot. He let out a sigh at the unwanted memory and stepped forward. Instantly after he’d pushed open the heavy, oak doors, a tiny boy ran and wrapped his arms around his waist with a wide smile on his face. Varian let out a chuckle and leant down to ruffle his hair, prying the younger boy off him and heading to a 3 seating spruce table in the middle of the room. Various books, pens and stationary were littered about the surface with the wood underneath barely even visible at most points. Yong eagerly ran to take his seat, jittering in excitement. He could swear that kid was just a bundle of energy - somehow always able to run around or be doing something. 

  “Took you long enough. I was starting to think you bailed.” A voice rang out as he took his place at the table. He didn’t even have to look at her to know who it was, a distinct hair clip with a star on it made it very clear to him. Nuru looked at him, a smirk on her face and her eyebrow raised with her NASA shirt being covered by a violet bomber jacket. Her jeans were cuffed and little scribbles that were drawn in pen were dotted here and there. Sneakers that were the same colour as her jacket only just fell short of her ankle, black socks with stars peeking out of them only just visible from the top. He dramatically sighed and feigned annoyance, a mock expression of the emotion on his face while he flopped back into his chair.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry Nuru. I got sidetracked - that’s all. So, how are you today, Yong?” He questioned, finally taking time to look over at the boy sitting beside him. Covering him was a crimson hoodie - judging by the way it dwarfed him in size, it was his older brother’s that was given to him as a hand me down or some sort of gift. It was kind of cute - a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. On his feet were some worn, gold and red converse that were laced ridiculously tight, also a hand-me-down. A childish smile was on his face as he looked up at Varian.

  “I’m fine! We learnt about astronomy today and calculating percentage composition! We got assigned some questions though and I didn’t understand the equation…” He mumbled the last part and leant against the table, before pulling 2 notebooks out of his bag. “Is it okay if you two can help me with my homework though? Just so I can understand it better and stuff. You explain it really well.” 

  “Sure we can, buddy.” Varian replied and shuffled closer to him. “So the equation for percentage mass is the mass of the desired elements divided by the gram formula mass, and then multiply it by 100%, but you know that, right?” He paused, waiting for a nod of confirmation which he promptly got before continuing with his explanation. “So the question is to calculate the percentage composition of ammonium nitrate fertilizer. Right? So, the first step is to write out the formula,” he paused once again to allow Yong to follow his instructions, the younger boy giving a thumbs up when he was done. “Great. So then you need to work out the gram formula mass which is…?” 

  Yong stared at the paper quietly, leaning forward and holding his pen before chewing the lid.  “So it’s 14 add 4 add 14 add 48, so that’s gonna be...80?” he questioned, looking over at Varian and his face lighting up when he gave a nod of approval. 

  “So then,” Varian added, “You need to do 14 divided by 2 multiplied by 100 to get the percentage of Nitrogen, then 4 divided by 80 and multiplied by 100 to get the percentage of hydrogen and finally 48 divided by 80 and multiplied by 100 to get the percentage of oxygen!” Varian concluded, smiling as Yong handed over his finished work. The older boy glanced over it, double checking before handing the worksheet back with a satisfied hum. “All correct! Well done, bud.”

  At that news, Yong gave a little cheer, moving over to Nuru and showing off his work, Varian sitting back as he watched the heartwarming scene from afar. He seemed so proud of himself, and he had every right to be. Still, after his little adrenaline rush, Nuru sat him down and listened attentively as Yong talked extensively about his astronomy homework. Satisfied that his job was done, Varian gazed out of the window. Hm. Still abnormally sunny - as per usual.

  A slight breeze made its way through the library as the door creaked open, prompting Varian to divert his attention towards it. He regretted it immediately. Standing in the doorway was none other than Hugo. He was wearing a green hoodie with jeans...god, he looked so good in green. Heat started to build in his face as he moved to look away from the older boy, his hands fidgeting in his lap and the tips of his ears turning red the longer he looked at him. He silently prayed Nuru and Yong hadn’t noticed...but the universe had other plans in its mission to screw him over.

  “Varian, are you okay? Your face is red. Are you too warm? Do you want me to ask the librarian to turn the fan on?” inquired Yong, already standing and beginning to walk away. Varian groaned and sunk back further into his chair, covering his still red face with his hands. Oh my god, why did he have to be here? He grimaced as the sound of Nuru’s laughter gradually got louder. “What.” he questioned, not daring to look up and betray just how flustered he was. This, however, only caused her to laugh even harder. 

    “Nothing! I just can’t believe Varian Ruddiger, my best friend, is simping for Hugo Atkinson aka one of the biggest playboys in human existence! It’s simply unbelievable!” Nuru cackled, Varian swiftly lunging and covering her mouth with his hand. 

  “Shut the fuck up, Nuru! If he even hears you!-” he flushed red as his eyes met Hugo’s from across the room. A smirk tugged at the corners of the blonde’s lips and he shot the younger boy a wink, bursting out into uncontrollable laughter as the other’s face went even redder (as if that was even possible) and he frantically tried to compose himself. Varian hurriedly stood up, shoving books into his bag and pushing the blue streak of hair out of his line of sight.

  “Oh would you look at the time! Eugene will be here to pick me up any minute now!” he declared rather loudly. The librarian looked up from her position behind the counter and shushed him, her eyes rolling as he repeatedly apologised. Cooling air hit his face as he dashed out of the library, passing Hugo at a speed he himself didn’t know he could reach. It was the relief he desperately needed - the flush of his face calming down and slowly retreating. Why was he so awkward? A blaring horn bought him back to reality, courtesy of his unofficial sister’s boyfriend. Involuntarily, he winced and stumbled back, bringing his hands up to cover his ears.

  “Hey Var! C’mon!” Eugene called out, a wide smile on his face as he waved him over. With a groan, Varian headed over and opened the door. He slumped into the passenger’s seat, fingers moving to roll down the window and allow the breeze to hit his face as Eugene drove. Varian silently observed the houses and stores as they sped past, steadily being swapped out with parks and fields leading up to his sister’s house.

  It always went like this ever since his mom left. On Wednesdays, Eugene would pick him up from his tutoring job and he’d go over to the couple’s house for dinner, before Eugene would drive him back home to Old Corona. Routine. A snug routine that no one disagreed with. They sat in a pleasant silence before the brunette decided to speak up.

  “So uh..how was your day, kiddo?” he implored, taking a second to glance over at the smaller boy as he stared out of the car window, charcoal locks blowing wildly in the wind, with the blue streaks still clearly defined. The response was a nod and faint hum as the boy kept his focus on the landscape beside them. The brunette bit his lip and relented on the questions. Clearly he wasn’t fine then.

  The ivory car pulled in outside of the small, ivy-walled cottage, both boys exiting the car after it had been parked. “There we go, Maximus. Good job.” Eugene mumbled under his breath, giving the hood a gentle tap before striding towards the wooden door and opening it. “Blondie! We’re here!” he exclaimed as the blonde-haired woman bounded out into the hallway, sprinting outside to pull the younger boy into a rib-crushing hug as her fiancé watched on in amusement. 

  “Varian! Hey!” she beamed as she took his wrist in a vice-like grip and pulled him along into the cottage. “It’s so good to see you! Cass, Lance and the girls are in the living room if you want to go see them!” Huh. Cass? That was new. Last thing he heard was that she was travelling the world after finishing her course at university. He put on the widest smile he could and slid open the sitting room’s door.

  Cassandra, Lance, Keira and Catalina all looked up from where they were sitting and waved. Varian made his way over to Cass, settling down beside her and allowing her to pull him into a side hug. “Hey co lady-in-waiting.” she chuckled and ruffled his hair. “How are you? How long has it been- what, 4 years?” 

  “Yep. 4 years.” Lance chimed in from his perch on the matching lilac sofa, a wide grin on his face as Cass tossed a pillow at him. Much to her dismay, he caught it and threw it right back at them. It hit Cass square in the face, her letting out a gasp of surprise and falling back against the plush cushions dotted all over the couch. The black haired boy let out a snort of laughter, covering his mouth and trying to suppress the small giggles that kept leaving his mouth. “I’m-oh fuck hold on,” he barely managed to pass the words through his lips, still in a fit of laughter. He took a deep breath. In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out. “That’s better. I’m fine. Studying chemistry at Corona University now.” he replied with a grin and leant against her, letting her warmth engulf him once again. 

  “No fuckin’ way. You’re a uni kid now?” she sat bolt upright, turning to look at him with wide eyes before resuming her original position. “Shit..it's been way too long since I’ve been here.” she let out a breathy laugh and looked down.

  “DINNER’S READY!” Rapunzel’s voice cried out from the kitchen, summoning everyone to sit down at the table. The meal of choice was a simple spaghetti, served on a purple porcelain plate. After settling everyone down, Rapunzel distributed the food. It was all going well, in all honesty. Everyone was talking about various topics: Eugene and Lance’s promotions, Kiera and Catalina joining high school soon, where Cass was travelling..that was until that all important question was asked - the one Varian dreaded the most.

  “So Varian,” Catalina asked innocently, looking up at him. “Have you got a girlfriend yet?”

  Varian froze, spoon raised to his mouth before dropping it back onto the plate. “I-I’m sorry, what?” he stuttered out, an awkward, forced smile taking over his face. Oh god, why were they asking this?

  “Yeah V, do you have a girlfriend?” Kiera repeated her sister’s question, her interest seemingly peaked by his response.

  Oh. Oh. Of course this question would come up eventually. Fuck. He’d never had a girlfriend in his life! The only girl who he’d ever had a crush on was Cassandra! What did he even like about girls? He tried to think back on all of his previous crushes..Flynn Rider, Cassandra, Vex (for about 2 minutes), and finally...Hugo.

   His mind drifted to Hugo much to his displeasure. To the wink at the library, the extensive texting sessions, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about...his sharp and defined features..his lips. He wondered how they’d taste..probably like cherries. Oh, he’d do anything to kiss Hugo-wait what? His face, for the umpteenth time flushed bright red as he narrowed his eyes to stare at the table cloth. “Um-no. No I don’t-” he began to protest before the others interrupted him again.

  “Aw, really? Our lovable Varian Ruddiger hasn’t captured the hearts of all the ladies he’s ever laid eyes on? I don’t believe it!” Cass exclaimed, taking a sip of the lemonade Rapunzel had made earlier. “Beautiful lemonade, by the way Raps. Good stuff.”

  “Yeah, especially when his brother-in-law is the infamous playboy Flynn Rider!” Lance pointed out with a vast smile on his face. “And Cass is right, this lemonade is the best I’ve ever had, Rapunzel.”

  “Look guys, can we just-stop talking about my relationship status?” Varian pleaded, his hands resting on the table and his breathing quickening. Oh god, was the room getting smaller? He felt like it was getting smaller. Tears welled up in his eyes as the others continued their teasing at his expense. 

“Just can’t believe it!-”

“I know a lovely girl! She’s Leona’s daughter!-”

“Varian?”

Too hot. It was too hot. No air. Why couldn’t he breathe? Was he dying? What was going on? Why was he shaking so much? He struggled and his chest heaved as he tried to take in more air. It’s too much. Please stop. 

“What happened to Vex? Don’t you like her anymore?-” 

Please stop.

“Buddy, are you okay?”

Stop.

“Varian?”

“STOP!” he screamed out, standing up fast and knocking his chair to the floor. Wet trails ran down his face as he harshly wiped his eyes and headed to the door. “Thanks for dinner, it was great.” he growled and shoved past the mass of worried people, throwing open the front door and falling to his knees outside. He gasped for breath, the oxygen being his saviour as it finally felt like he was getting enough. He was free. In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out. His body jolted as a hand cautiously rested on his shoulder, squeezing it softly before the mystery comforter sat by him.

  “Rapunzel I…”

  “Don’t. I get it. Just get yourself together, okay? In for 7, hold for 7, out for 7. Just like I taught you.” she commented with a reassuring smile, holding out her arms for him to fall into. He closed his eyes in the embrace, his hands holding on tight to the fabric of her dress to ground himself. Her perfume had the scent of lavender, calming his nerves and helping him relax further. It reminded him of the old house before the accident. Before his mom left. The good times.

  “Varian..I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have pushed you so far. It isn’t fair.” she finally admitted as her hand weaved through his hair in a motherly kind of way. “I’m so sorry we didn’t stop sooner. But just know that-well, you can always tell us if you aren’t comfortable. We’ll respect your choices no matter what.” 

  Varian smiled to himself at what his sister said. She always wanted what was best for him - especially after his dad went into a coma. “Thank you so much.” he muttered against her shoulder. “You have..no idea what this means to me.” he sighed, content in the moment before moving back. “I should go home, it’s gonna be really awkward for me to go back.”

  Rapunzel looked as though she’d been slapped in the face. “I-are you sure? I doubt the others mind, and I made cupcakes to celebrate you and Cass coming over.”

  “Thanks Rapunzel but I just want to go home-” he began to say. A silhouette appeared in the doorway, leaning against it on her upper arm. Cass looked down at the scene, a sympathetic smile on her face as the wind blew her hair about and she held out her hand. “Relax Raps. I’ll take him. I was just leaving anyway. The little twerp just needs to let me know the directions. Oh, and he’ll need this.” she remarked, throwing a helmet towards Varian who, with fumbling hands, caught it. But-why would he need a-

  His question was answered as Cass walked away, swinging her leg over the motorbike and sitting down. The bike was..wow. Black was the base coat for the vehicle - red streaks ran across the main body intermingling with blue streaks. He was taken aback, swinging his leg over after placing the helmet on his head. His arms wrapped around Cass’ waist as she started to drive.

  It was exhilarating. Wind whistled past his ears, houses merging together at the speed they were moving and the fields became mere blurs in the background. Eyes widened with wonder as he held on, cheering and filled with adrenaline. Cass’ face lit up at the sound of Varian’s childlike enjoyment and wonder as he marvelled at his surroundings. She brought the bike to a stop, smoothing down her hair and helping Varian off. As he trudged up his driveway, she kept her eyes on him. 

  “Hey V?” she said, him turning around almost immediately to meet her eyes. “Uh..you should come meet my girlfriend sometime. Her name’s Irene. You’d love her.” she commented, pulling her helmet on as Varian frantically nodded. She silently waved and rode off into the night, leaving Varian on the doorstep of his admittedly shabby house.

  Varian stood in silence for a second before a grin split onto his face. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Cass..of course. He knew she’d understand. Thank god he wasn’t alone. Cass knew..she knew what he was dealing with. He turned his head to the direction that her bike went. He’d thank her later, somehow. 

  After a few seconds, he strode into the house and made a left to the kitchen, a pearl-white sheet of paper placed onto the counter wedged under the fruit bowl sat in plain sight. Varian read it aloud before throwing it into the trash. “Brilliant. Dad’s working late.” he rolled his eyes, moving towards the cupboard and pouring out some cat food into a bowl. Ruddiger, the fat bastard, came sauntering in, rubbing himself against the boy’s leg before starting to eat. He laughed and started to head upstairs.

  He sat on his bed and gazed at the time on his phone. 7:32pm. Hugo should be online. He couldn’t help the stupid smile that cursed his face at the mere thought of the boy in question, pressing his name under messages.

Varian : Still on for 1 tomorrow?

  He sent the text, still high on the adrenaline rush from the motorbike. Tomorrow was weighing on his mind as he sat up, hurrying to his closet to pick out his clothes for their date. Or at least that’s what Hugo called it and Varian desperately hoped that wasn’t a joke. Extensive searching left him with deciding upon a cyan sweater over a white dress shirt, along with some jeans and his black vans. The infamous chime went off, with Varian essentially jumping over the frame of his bed to read it.

Hugo : Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetie pie <3

Hugo : You looked good in the library by the way, short stuff ;)

   Varian rolled his eyes at Hugo’s comment. What else had he expected, honestly. He snuck a glance at his mirror, only to see the same lovestruck grin as every other night before that. God, he loved this boy so much. It wasn’t fair how one person could have this effect on him. How everything felt better when they were talking. Hell, even coffee tasted better when he was drinking it with Hugo. 

Varian : Better than you, beanpole

Hugo : Ouch. Really know how to wound my pride, dontcha?

Hugo: Anyway, I’ve gotta study tonight so I’ll see you tomorrow. Same table.

Varian :  Eye eye, Captain. See you tomorrow.

  Setting his phone aside, Varian watched as Ruddiger crawled to sit on the bed beside him, cuddling under his arm and purring. “Ruddiger, I think i’m in love.” the boy whispered to his companion. 

“I think I’m in love with Hugo Atkinson.”

[theoriginalladya]

Dragon Age II - Meghan Hawke/Nathaniel Howe, Sebastian Vael *ears perked* *grabby hands* :D for your WIP folders?

Hehehehe   Thought that might get your attention! :)

Okay, so let me start with Meghan and Nate.  Meghan is the only Hawke I’ve ever played (dual wielding rogue).  I ended up playing her twice because on my first playthrough (romanced Fenris) the save I tried to import didn’t work, but I didn’t discover it until Alistair showed up and I knew that language I needed to hear, and I didn’t.  Okay, not so bad.  So I reimported it, it took this time, and I romanced Sebastian second time through in the game.  Great - now I have some baseline on both of those romances.  

That said, I already knew Meghan wasn’t going to be with either of them in her story - she ends up with Nathaniel Howe who she meets when he is still a squire for his lord in the Free Marches.  In fact, they meet in Kirkwall as he is waiting on the ship that will take him back to Ferelden.

Going to put under a cut because this got long really fast! lol

(And I do not vouch for any of this as I first wrote it about six years ago, possibly longer! lol  I’ve certainly learned a LOT more about writing since then, so these will inevitably get cleaned up before I think of posting them in future)

Deep in thought, Meghan left the table and returned to the bar.  She waited to be served another and was considering looking to round up a game of Wicked Grace to entertain herself with when she was unexpectedly and quite rudely hit in the back.  The move shoved her belly first into the bar counter, and the edge caught her just beneath the ribcage.  “Ooof!” Her breath was forced out of her lungs, and for the briefest of moments, Meghan thought she saw stars ….

“Maker’s breath, are you alright?”

Blinking back pain and trying to suck in enough air to breathe let alone reply, Meghan coughed harshly and finally resorted to nodding.  Her vision wasn’t quite back to normal yet, but a strong hand at her back pounded a few times in an offer of help -- help?  How does this help?  

Almost as if he sensed her thoughts, the hand grasped firmly at her shoulder and he guided her to sit on a nearby bench.  She recognized that it was a he, despite still being doubled over from pain.  His voice had that soothing baritone feel to it, very similar to the voice her father once had.  

Once seated, he left her side, returning a half moment later.  He dropped a tankard on the table beside her with a not so gentle thud and both he and she ignored the suds and ale that sloshed over the side, dripping down to form a ring around the vessel.  “I must apologize,” he told her, dropping to a knee in front of her to bring them to eye level.  

Meghan lifted her head, still searching for enough breath with which to speak, when she met cool, steely grey-blue eyes.  Blinking, her mouth worked again, but still nothing escaped that even remotely resembled words.  At best, a rough grunt slipped past.  His eyes narrowed in concern and he moved to her left as if to pound on her back again.

Meghan reacted instantly.  Straightening, she lifted her hand, warding off his actions, and finally drew in a deep breath.  “No, thank you!” she rasped.  She pulled in another immediately following, and then another.  Absently, she rubbed at her ribs where they’d hit the counter. “I’m … good.”

“Are you certain?” he asked.  The look of concern on his face didn’t fade.  If anything, Meghan noticed, his brow seemed to furrow more deeply.  “I would hate to think that I --”

She managed a lopsided smile, waving her hand back and forth between them.  “I’ll be fine,” she promised, this time with better vocal projection even if it was still rough around the edges.  “What -- what happened?”

He grimaced. Glancing around, he pointed towards a mild brawl taking place that was now moved onto the far side of the tavern. “I guess I walked into the middle of something.”

Meghan’s eyes followed his direction and she spotted a pair of vaguely familiar faces in the center of the tussle.  Sighing, she shook her head.  “Willis and Farlan are always in the middle of some ruckus,” she assured him.  Her voice was stronger now and she straightened further.  Reaching for the tankard, she took a careful drink.  Tilting her head slightly to the side, she observed, “You aren’t from these parts, are you?”

The concern finally eased from his face, but Meghan wouldn’t say it softened his features at all. Dark hair, light eyes, and eagle like features even down to his unfortunately large ‘beak��.  Still, he wasn’t entirely unattractive, and Meghan had to admit the caramel smoothness of his voice more than made up for any perceived deficiencies so far.  

“I’m not, no,” he agreed.  Rising, he took a seat on the bench next to her, his eyes drifting to follow the activities across the room.  “My name is Nathaniel Howe.  I’m a squire for Ser Rodolphe Varley.”

Meghan frowned, searching her memory for any information on that name.  She’d heard it a time or two, but had no first hand knowledge. At the same time, something about Nathaniel dropped into place for her.  “You aren’t from the Free Marches, are you?”  When he looked startled, she smiled.  “Your accent -- Ferelden?”

Slowly, he nodded. “I’ve worked hard to disguise it,” he admitted, “and thought I’d made progress.  Obviously, I was mistaken.”

Dropping into the Fereldan tongue, Meghan gave him a sassy grin and extended her hand. “Meghan Hawke, lately of Lothering. My family and I fled to Kirkwall when the Blight started.”

“Lothering?” His look of astonishment faded into a half smile of amusement.  “Your accent, on the other hand, is quite good.”

“My parents were originally from Kirkwall,” she explained.  “They moved to Lothering before I was born.”  She took a healthier swallow of her ale.  “Can I buy you a drink?” she asked after a moment.  

Nathaniel chuckled softly and shook his head.  “It is I who should be buying you one, I think,” he told her.  

Meghan jumped to her feet, only the slightest of tightening at the corner of her eyes indicating any residual pain left from her injuries.  “Nope.  This round is on me.”  She left him before he could protest, returning a couple of minutes later.  Handing him the tankard while regaining her seat, she reached for her own and lifted it to clink against his.  “We Fereldens have to stick together.”

Now, let me tell you a bit about Sebastian in this world.  I adore Sebastian, good parts, bad parts and all the in between.  I’ve always thought he got the short end of the stick on some things too, and I wanted to include him more predominantly in this series of fics, so I’ve sort of broadened his horizons, so to speak.  

Now the clip i’m going to share technically is a part of Serafina and Alistair after the Blight, but it happens in Kirkwall (long story there, too), so I sort of wedged it in on this side of things to make it easier to find in my notes.  You see, he and Serafina met years ago when she is visiting Orlais.  Neither has seen each other since then - about five years previous to this moment.  This is how they bump into one another after all that time...

Their path took them into an open courtyard and for a moment, Serafina’s steps slowed.  

“Did we take a wrong turn?” Alistair asked, his eyes searching the area.  

“I think we must have,” she replied.  “Oh, wait. There’s the Chantry.”  She pointed across the way.  “I think we need to head that way.”  Her hand drifted to a stairwell to the right of the building.  

Alistair’s eyes lifted to view the large building looming over the city.  “You know,” he mused in a tone only she could hear, “I’ve always heard how the people of Hightown think themselves above those in Lowtown, but I didn’t think it was so literal.”

“Hmm?”  Serafina glanced around.  Smiling gently, she nudged him in the arm.  “There is a lot of history here,” she agreed, “but most people tend to forget the simple yet more important aspects of it.”

“Oh?  What do you mean?”  He stopped walking, pulling her over to the center of the courtyard near the Chantry Board.  

Casually, she pointed to the exits to the immediate area.  “What do you see?” she challenged.

Alistair blinked. “Stairs?”

Serafina nodded. “Where do they lead?”

He frowned. “Down?”  

She nodded again and waited, her eyes meeting his.

“To … Lowtown … Oh!” Blinking, Alistair tilted his head to his right.  “Stairs lead up and down.”

“Exactly.  They might find themselves above those whom they think they are better, and their history certainly provides enough reminders that even the bloodiest of battles have not reached these heights,” she pointed out, “but the fact remains that when that happens, they are still stuck. Those stairs are their only way out. If a siege can be held long enough, they have no means of escape.”

“Thankfully,” he muttered for her ears only, “Denerim isn’t set up the same way.”

“There is that,” she agreed.  Then, walking out into the middle of the square, she turned in a slow circle, eyes lifted and surveying the architecture and situation of the buildings surrounding them, “On the other hand, it’s difficult to argue that it isn’t a pretty view.”

“And clean,” Alistair interjected as his eyes followed her.  Granted, certain parts of Ferelden’s capital city were better tended than others.  He wondered how much that had to do with the Blight and civil war or simply because Cailan had been king.  His eyes fell back to her after a moment and he stiffened when he realized …  “Watch out, behind you!”

Serafina, eyes still on the buildings around them, stumbled as she stepped backwards into someone. She caught herself awkwardly, but didn’t quite lose her balance.  “I’m so sorry!”  A strong hand at her arm helped her maintain balance, and she dropped her eyes … to an unexpectedly handsome and familiar, if somewhat older, face from her past. Gasping, her own eyes widened.  “No!  It … it can’t be!” she breathed.  “Sebastian?”

Startled, the man released his hold on her and took a step backwards.  “I’m sorry.  Have we met?” he asked.

It was all Serafina could do to break her gaze from his.  When she did, her eyes trailed over the rest of him.  He stood before her, just as vibrantly muscular and male as she remembered, now dressed in armor that clearly had Chantry’s influence in the design.  That, perhaps, answered a question.  However, some things remained the same.  The blue of his eyes.  The velvety roll of his voice and the soft burr as he spoke ….  

It stung a little that he didn’t recall without some prompting, but considering the circumstances that led to that night, it wasn’t much of a surprise.  “Five years ago in Val Royeaux,” she murmured quietly.  “There was a masquerade and …”

Recognition hit him instantly and he took another quick step backwards from her.  “You!” he gasped, face paling with shock.  

She nodded slowly but remained where she was.  She didn’t realize Alistair had joined her until his voice, quiet but urgent in his concern for her, penetrated through the fog of surprise.  “Are you alright?”

[thetourguidebarbie]

Stuck together somewhere and it’s a full moon and SHIT ARE YOU TURNING INTO A WOLF WTF??? (but maybe they’re mates and all is well?)

God, the Shrieking Shack was such a weird place for a date. Klaus was usually pretty thoughtful, so it had been unexpected when she'd gotten his note this morning telling her to meet him there at sunset for a surprise along with instructions about how to get past the Whomping Willow, but she'd roll with it, at least for now. She usually hated surprises, which Klaus knew, so it had to be worth it, right?

She trudged up the stairs, her hand gripping the railing to make sure that she didn't trip in the low light, following the rustling sound she heard on the second floor. She finally opened to door to see Klaus shirtless, in the process of shedding his jeans.

Presumptuous, much? They'd only started sleeping together the week before. There was no way he should be this confident that she wanted to bang on a dirty floor of an abandoned house. Was this some kind of weird kink?

"What are you doing?" 

"Caroline?" Klaus whispered the second he saw her, freezing in place. She could have sworn she saw fear in his eyes, his hands moving up to clutch her shoulders, gently pushing her to the door. "How did--you have to go."

She dug her heels in, bristling and pushing him away. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can't be here, sweetheart," he said firmly. "You have to go back to the castle."

"Then why'd you ask me to meet you?" Caroline asked, folding her arms in front of her, frowning. "I got your owl this morning."

"My owl? I didn't send an owl."

"Well, I don't know who else would have sent a letter that said 'meet me in the shrieking shack at nine. I have a surprise for you.' Which also, like, if your surprise is sex in a dusty haunted house, I'm so not up for it."

"I didn't send whatever you're talking about," Klaus said impatiently, his words clipped and rushed, his hand hot on the small of her back as he steered her towards the door. "Really, love. I'm sorry. I'll explain later, but you have to--" he choked out a soft 'fuck', his hand going to his side as he winced in pain. 

"Are you okay?" Caroline asked, alarmed at his reaction, spat forgotten. 

"No," he said through gritted teeth. "Really, sweetheart. You need to go. Now. Run."

"Run? What do you mean run?" she asked, turning around when a breeze floated through the cracked window, causing the door to shut with a soft click. She reached to jiggle the doorknob, deciding to follow directions for now since he seemed really committed to getting her out of there, but it wouldn't budge.

"It locks automatically," he said through gritted teeth.

"Why would it do that?" 

"To keep me in," he said, gasping in pain and clutching his stomach. 

"Keep you in?" she repeated, starting to panic. What the hell was going on. "What do you mean keep you in?"

Her question was answered when she saw fur begin to sprout on his arms, his jeans ripping down the sides of the legs and falling to the ground with his belt and boxer briefs and he fell on all fours, letting out soft pants of pain.

"Holy shit," Caroline breathed, taking a few steps backwards and fumbling behind her for the doorknob. "Holy shit, holy shit, oh my god."

A few things became immediately clear. The first was that her boyfriend was a werewolf and totally hadn't said a single thing. Rude. The second was that he had clearly not been the one who invited her to the Shrieking Shack. The third was that whoever had sent that letter had clearly wanted her dead or bitten.

The fourth was that she was in serious danger of that happening.

"Nice dog," she whispered as Klaus looked up, yellow eyes focused on her, paws extended to curl into the frayed carpet. "Everything's fine. I'm not going to hurt you. Please don't bite me."

Her mind raced as she tried to think of a plan. She couldn't run, obviously. If you ran from dogs they chased you, right? Were werewolves dogs? Did they have dog feelings? Her dad used to tell her that if the neighbor's crup growled at her she should stare at it to establish dominance, but something told her that a werewolf's natural reaction to an alpha showdown was not to concede when the other person could easily be dinner.

She stuck her hand in her pocket, fingering her wand. She didn't want to hurt him. Secrets or not, Klaus was her boyfriend, and she did like him. A lot.

And honestly, if this was the secret, she could totally understand why he didn't tell her. Not that that helped her current predicament.

She knelt in front of him and winced at the growl, lowering her eyes and her head, hoping to indicate that she was not up for a fistfight with a gigantic murder-dog. The soft weirdly purr-like sound he made seemed promising, and she risked glancing up at him to see what he was doing, relaxing a bit when she saw that he was sitting, his tail thumping against the floor.

Cool. Okay. She could work with that.

She hesitantly sat down fully, crossing her legs in front of her and folding her hands in her lap, still careful not to make direct eye contact. If she pulled out her wand, he might interpret that as a threat, right? So she probably shouldn't try to unlock the door. Ugh, was she stuck here for the whole night?

She felt a cold nose poke at her cheek, and she looked up to see Klaus sitting in front of her, staring at her intently. "Um, hi?" she half-asked, feeling a bit silly.

Well, at least he wasn't trying to eat her.

It was weird though, that he was so calm. He walked around her to nudge her back with his nose, and she stood up slowly, trying to figure out whether he was attempting to herd her. It turned out he was, nudging her repeatedly until she got onto the bed and hopping up next to her, curling up by the pillows and making room for her to lie beside him. It was awkward, being pressed close to him, but it was a bit cold from the night time breeze through the shattered windows, and if she was going to be there all night without blankets, she might as well lean against Klaus, since his body was warm and soft.

They laid in silence until she drifted off, and when she woke up she felt Klaus's very human body pressed against her back, his arms spooning her comfortably.

"You're awake," he murmured, his hand creeping under the edge of her uniform top to splay on her stomach. "Feeling all right?"

"Other than the fact that my boyfriend didn't tell me he was a werewolf, yeah. Totally peachy."

"My apologies for not informing you," he said stiffly. "I hadn't realized that two months of dating was enough time for me to trust you with my darkest secrets."

"I'm sorry. You're right," she said, turning over in his arms so that they were nose to nose. "It's not like it's any of my business, really. We're not like, serious, or anything."

They hadn't had that conversation yet, even if she very much wanted them to be.

"Well, we are now, I suppose," he said, making her frown.

"Isn't that supposed to be a group decision?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You're in once piece, love. Surely you know what that means."

"I mean, not really? I assumed it was because I didn't stare you down to have an alpha fight."

He snorted. "No. Anyone else would have been ripped to shreds, submissive signals or not."

"Then why am I different?" she asked slowly, wondering if this was a pretty romantic nothing that he was trying to suck her in with. "Is this your intro to 'I'm not like other girls'? Because I hate that."

"I suppose in a sense, you are," he said slowly. "Though not in the way you're assuming."

"Then how?"

"You're my mate," he said simply, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "Soulmate, if you prefer."

"Oh," she squeaked, stiffening. "That's...um...cool. Cool."

He smirked, his hand settling on her lower back and stroking up and down her spine. "Indeed."

[i-eat-bread-and-cry-on-the-floor]

A strange solidarity between Richie and Ben. Idk like Richie calling Ben to complain about how cute and adorable Eddie look today with his shorts and how he just wants to hold hand whit him or Ben telling Richie about how perfect and beautiful is Bev hair and how he thinks she is the coolest person in the world. Bonus: If meanwhile Eddie and Bev are doing the same!

B E T here we go!! I think this is my first request for a fic so i entirely hope it’s not bad :))

Title: Movie Nights & Forest Fires  Pairings: Benverly, Reddie, Platonic!Trashstack 

Ben held a photo booth picture in his hands, staring at the red head smiling at the camera. He could have paid attention to Richie’s stupid ‘silly face.’ He could have looked at Stan, who’d just spotted a piece of dust that looked vaguely like a spider. His eyes, however, kept drawing toward a certain crush of his. 

He walked toward his bed to lay down, holding the picture in front of his face. Ben simply thought that there was no one better than Beverly Marsh. He’d been in love with her since third grade. 

The phone rang in the living room, but Ben wouldn’t care divide his attention. Not for Beverly. He smiled. The unfamiliar gesture lingered on his face for a silent moment. He only stopped smiling to bring the picture to his lips. He smiled wider now, having just “kissed” Bev. Brushing his hair out of his hair, he perked up to hear his mom calling him. 

“Benny! Your friend is on the phone for you!” she called. He didn’t realize that the phone stopped ringing only three rings in. Typically it takes eight. 

“Oh, yep! Coming!” he shuffled to plant his feet on the ground. He jogged to the phone, hanging near the couch. He tried to sound cool, answering the phone with a sly tone. 

“Hey there. Who’s calling?” Ben forgot that this caller could be any of the losers; not just Bev. 

“It’s Richie.” Ben’s friend eagerly answered. “I’ve gotta tell you about my sleepover with Eddie last night.” 

“Oh!” Ben nodded, “Yeah, yeah! Tell me.” he strained the chord to sit on the edge of the couch. He’d always been jealous of Richie, who had a phone in his room. 

“Okay, picture this,” Richie prompted, pacing around his room as far as the phone chord allowed him to, “We’re watching Gremlins cause, classics ya know?” 

Ben nodded, despite the fact that Richie couldn’t see him. Richie continued anyway. 

“And we’re sharing a bowl of popcorn but we kept arguing over who’s gonna hold it so I, a literal genius, propose: ‘Hey why don’t we just balance it between our legs?’ Ben! He agreed!” Richie jumped, “So now we’re literally attached at the hip...” Richie continued telling Ben his story.

Ben listened, grinning. Only he imagined himself and Beverly--Not Richie and Eddie. 

-------

“I wanna cross my legs.” Eddie looked at Richie. Richie picked up the bowl of popcorn with a sigh. Richie then placed the bowl in Eddie’s lap. 

“I’m gonna end up spilling two-thirds of the bowl and then we’ll have wasted food and I’d have to watch you eat shit off the floor.” Eddie gave Richie the bowl again.

“I wouldn’t eat shit off the floor!” Richie rebutted. “I’d eat popcorn off the floor, Eds.” 

“There is literally so much wrong with that sentence.” 

“Well, whatever.” Richie put the popcorn in between them once again. 

The two turned their attention back to the TV screen. Eddie moves a bit closer to Richie, until some freaky jump-scare caught him off guard.

Eddie shrieked, tensing his shoulders to his earlobes. The popcorn fell to the ground in the process. “Shit!” the already-panicked boy cursed. 

“Fuck, I’m not taking responsibility for this.” Eddie pouted, picking up the bowl and some stray pieces of popcorn as Richie blushed.

“No, it’s- You don’t have to clean that, I’ll fix it later.” 

“And just leave this on the floor, what if you get ants?” 

“Eddie,” Richie opened his arms for some elongated hug. He yearned to cuddle with Eddie, but admitting that to himself or to Eddie seemed like too much of a nightmare to deal with. 

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows. He glanced down at the spilled popcorn, then at Richie: smiling in the purest way Eddie had ever seen. He huffed. 

“Fine.” But he couldn’t resist smiling, just a bit. 

------

“And we cuddled for the entire rest of the movie! It was- gah! It was amazing.” Richie gushed after a long ramble. 

“That sounds like so much fun.” Ben said. “I’m really happy for you, man!”

“Thanks, Ben. So, have you worked up the courage to send Bev your second poem, you one-hit-wonder?”

“Not a one-hit-wonder anymore!” Ben smirked. After finding just enough spare change in the cracks of the living room couch, he spent it on another post card at the library. 

-------

Sitting at his usual spot in the library, Ben stared at his blank post card. Tapping a pen against his temple, he conjured up a multitude of feelings. He decided to allude to his first poem, January Embers. He called this one Forest Fires. 

The smallest of flames Can still set my entire  Forest on fire

-Secret admirer 

Clipping his pen, he stood up, returning two books he’d read in the span of a week, and leaving. He held the postcard in his hands, refraining from repeating the words again and again. The more he thought, the more he hated his writing. Determined not to let that happen, he stared at the bridge on the back of the card instead. 

--------

“Well, have you, Lover-boy?” Richie urged.

Ben shook his head, “I- I will, just not now.” 

“When, then?” Richie asked, waiting for a response that he never received. 

Ben sank to the floor against the couch. 

“Do you want me to stick it in her backpack one day?” Richie suggested. 

“No, I need to do it. I’m just...” 

“Just?” 

Ben twirled the wire in on his index finger, trying to think of his answer. He knew his reason. Whenever he’d try to give Bev his poem, his hands got clammy and his face flushed. He’d wipe his forehead, trying to steady himself, ridding his mind of fear or doubt. By the time his heart began to beat in his throat, he shook his head muttering, “No, I’ll do it tomorrow,” under his breath. He’d walk away. 

“Nervous, I guess.” He admitted. 

“I’m coming over." Richie declared. “Get your bike ready too cause we’re going to Bev’s.” “What? Why?”

“You know why.”

Ben nodded, taking a deep breath. “See you in fifteen?” 

“More like ten.” Richie shrugged.

“Ten.” 

-------

Standing at the bottom of the stairs to Bev’s apartment, Richie rubbed Ben’s shoulders. “You got this, big guy!” 

Ben knew any of his other friends would swat Richie’s hands away but Ben appreciated the humorous gesture.

“I do, I’ve got this.” he nodded in agreement. He took one step upstairs, looking back at Richie. After the glimpse of a thumbs up, he ran upstairs as if Bowers was chasing him. He spent no time looking over the railing to see blossoming flowers or the shiny sun rays. He stared at his feet climbing higher and higher until he reached the fourth floor.

“You can do it! Go get your lady!” Richie called at him, making Ben smile. 

Before his brain processed anything, Ben’s feet landed in front of Bev’s door and his finger tapped the doorbell. His eyes widened when the red-head answered the door. Her short locks, now a small flame in the breezy spring weather, setting his forest on fire.

“Ben! Can I help you?” she smiled and leaned against the door. 

“No,” he shook his head. 

“Oh?”

“No, no, no, I meant- I meant- No-” he shook his head. 

“You said no.” Beverly pointed out. 

“Huh?”

“You said ‘no, no, no, i meant- i meant no.’ You said no already. I was just teasing around.” 

“Oh! Yeah, yeah!” Ben nodded, “Right.” he cleared his throat. “Listen, I... wanted to...” he squeezed his eyes shut, extending his hand to give Beverly his 97-cent postcard.

“Oh, for me?” Beverly giggled. At Ben’s “Yeah...” Beverly took the post card. She didn’t read it, making Ben all the more thankful. 

“Okay, well... good day to you; Nice talk.” Ben made finger guns then, hurrying downstairs to Richie.

Richie, who’d been listening from the bottom of the stairs greeted Ben with a huge grin. “That was awesome! I knew you could--”

Ben ran into his arms, hugging him. “I can’t believe- I’m- Oh my- Richie, why did I do that?” he asked. 

Richie squeezed him close. “Hey, hey, you did great yeah? It was adorable! Your poem was awesome and if she doesn’t like you, she’s too stupid to deserve you.” 

Ben took deep breaths, considering his words. “Are you just saying that?”

“No, Ben.” Richie shook his head. “I really mean it.” 

Ben nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Can we go back to my house? You can stay for dinner.” he invited. 

“No can do. Dad’s grilling tonight.” Richie declined, then coming up with an epiphany. “If you don’t want to be alone though, I can ask my mom if you want to sleepover?” 

“Would you?” 

“‘F course!” Richie put his arm around Ben as they walked back to their bikes. 

Ben shuttered a breath, “You’re the best, Rich.” 

The two rode their bikes past Stan’s dad’s temple, prompting Richie to tell Ben about Stan’s bar mitzvah speech. “It was so badass!” 

“Wish I coulda been there.” Ben laughed. 

They rode past the library and the shop where Mike would bring his deliveries. Dropping their bikes in front of Ben’s house, Richie waited outside and Ben unlocked the door. “Mom?” he called.

“Yes, sweetie?” his mother craned her neck from the couch to Ben.

“Richie invited me for dinner tonight. Could I go?” he smiled. “Please.” he added. Ben never forgot a ‘please.’

“Just make sure you’re home by nine. You’ve got your watch?” She peaked at his arm. 

“Yes, ma. Thank you!” he confirmed, grinning ear-to-ear. The kid who’d spent his entire elementary and middle school career alone loved spending evenings with his friends.

“Have fun!” she reminded as Ben jogged back outside, closing the door behind him.

“She said yes.” Ben informed, prompting a happy dance from Richie. 

“That’s not gonna be the only girl saying yes to you.” 

“Oh, shush.” he rolled his eyes, picking up his bike. “Ready to go?” 

Richie gave a thumbs up, swinging his leg onto his own bike. “Let’s ride!” 

-------

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. 

“Hello?”

“Eddie! You would not believe what Ben just gave me!” Beverly squealed. 

“Spill everything!” 

[lostintranslaation]

history always repeats itself

By @wh0doyouthinkyouareiam for @clover-roseee for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Ned Leeds, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Pepper Potts

Summary: When Peter gets bitten by a spider at the Stark's lake house, he thinks he's got it all under control. He's gotten through a spider bite once before, right?

(hint: he doesn't quite have it all under control)

Read it on AO3

Peter shrugs his backpack over his shoulder and winces. He’s been busy recently and between trying to finish out his senior year strong and helping with May’s homeless shelter liaison program and spending more time with the Starks, Peter hadn’t had much time to go out on patrol. So yeah, he was out of shape. But was it normal to be this sore?  

“Peter? Can you hear me?” Ned cranes his neck around Peter’s locker. Peter blinks.

“Uh, yeah.” Peter closes his locker. “Sorry, I just zoned out for a minute. What were you saying?” He shoves a knuckle into his eye to counteract the pressure building in his head.

“Have you seen the new Star Wars movies yet, the ones that came out during the blip? I think there’s, like, two, maybe three. They switched the actress for Rey, but I heard they’re pretty good other than that.”

“I haven’t, have you?” Peter pulls his hood over his head as the two of them push open the doors of the school to start their daily walk to the train back to Queens. At least some things never change.

“No. Haven’t gotten the chance yet, y’know? Been a little busy. But,” they stop at the bottom of the stairs, “I got a new Lego set from the latest episode for my birthday last week. I was thinking, if you’re free tonight, we could put it together and binge all the movies that came out while we were gone?”

Peter sighs and leans on the railing. “That sounds like a lot of fun, but I promised Ton- Mister Stark that I would babysit Morgan tonight.”

Ned’s jaw drops. “You call him Tony?” Peter just smiles and looks down. “Are you guys… close? It seems like you’ve been hanging out with the Starks a lot recently. Babysitting tonight, the lake house last weekend…” Peter huffs out a laugh.

“Last weekend was just to help them out. They needed a couple boxes moved in their garage and Pepper called me to help out because Tony’s still… not in moving-boxes condition. But yeah, ever since… you know, he’s been acting different. Nicer, I guess. He’s like, actually wanting to spend time with me, which is a nice change.”

“Well, either way it’s cool.”

“Yeah,” Peter agrees. “Hey, I gotta go. Tony told me to just come to their apartment after school got out.” He starts walking backwards. “But text me about a raincheck for our Star Wars binge, okay?” Ned nods and Peter turns around to start the three-block walk to the Stark’s Manhattan apartment.

It’s chilly out, the kind of cold where fall is fading into winter and the sky is grey and the streets are wet even though it’s been a couple days since it last rained. Peter tries not to focus on the headache building behind his eyes and the stiffness in his neck and hopes that Morgan will be up for a nice, calm movie night or something like that.

Knowing her, she probably won’t be, though. She’ll probably want to play horses or something like that and Peter will have no choice but to trudge around their apartment with her on his back, perfecting her princess wave she’d tried so hard to teach him but couldn’t quite accomplish.

And despite all this, despite the fact that when she gave him the eyes he was physically incapable of telling her ‘no’, he wouldn’t change a thing. He couldn’t change a thing, not even if he wanted to. The first time he’d babysat her, she’d asked for a juice pop and then the next thing he knew it was a couple hours later and they were sitting on the couch watching Sofia the First, three juice pops in. When Pepper and Tony returned, they just offered sympathetic smiles that said that they’d been there before and sent him home with a nice check.

The doorman at the Starks apartment building was nice and Peter sometimes would buy him a coffee if he had a little extra cash when he came over to visit. But today all Peter could do was offer up a weak ‘hi Mister Hudson’ and a tight-lipped smile.

“Hello Mister Parker,” he greets as Peter walks through the doors. “Up to see the Starks?” he asks before pressing the floor number in the elevator. And after not receiving a verbal response, “Rough day at the office?”

Peter sighs and leans back against the cool wall of the elevator as it starts its ascent. He pulls his jacket tighter around himself and tries to suppress a shiver. “I’m just tired. Nothing new,” Peter says. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great. You know, Ava had her baby a coupla days ago.” The man’s wrinkled face splits into a giant smile and Peter can’t help but smile himself.

“Congratulations! How does it feel to be a grandpa?”

“Oh, it’s incredible. She's incredible,” he flips open his creased leather tri-fold wallet to show Peter a photo of a pink squishy baby with giant eyes and a small tuft of dark hair atop her head.

“What’s her name?” The elevator dings and the doors slide open.

“Nina,” the doorman replies, still smiling fondly on the photo in his hands.

Peter claps the man on the back. “She’s beautiful, Mister Hudson. Have a great rest of your day.”

“You too, Peter. Try and get some rest.” The look in the man’s eyes is sincere. Peter smiles and the doors slide shut again.

Peter leans against the wall in the entryway and kicks off his shoes near the door. He closes his eyes and hangs his head, but the moment of solace does not last long before Morgan’s footsteps come pattering down the hallway to greet him.

“Peter!” He kneels down and pulls her into a hug.

“Hi Morgie.”

“Do you wanna have a tea party tonight? Mister Bear is gonna be there.”

“That sounds like a blast.” He straightens back out and immediately doubles back over, an involuntary groan escaping from his lips as his stomach cramps. He sways on his feet and a wave of nausea rises in his throat but he swallows it back down. Clipped footsteps echo down the hall.

“Heya Pete,” Tony rests a hand on the top of Morgan’s head and she squirms out from underneath his touch. “You feeling okay?”

Peter forces his face into a tight smile and straightens back out. “Mmmhmm,” his voice is higher than normal and he clears his throat. “Just peachy.”

“Do you have the keys?” Pepper asks from down the hall and Tony answers back in the affirmative.

“Alright, we gotta get going.” Tony extends an arm to Pepper and she laces hers around. “We shouldn’t be back too late, maybe elevenish. You know the drill. Dinner and bedtime like normal.” Peter nods and tries to ignore the tension building in the back of his neck.

Pepper walks down the hall and slings her purse over her shoulder before kneeling down to give Morgan a peck on the top of her head. “Be good for Peter, okay?”

Morgan nods and beams up at Peter, “We’re having a tea party, right Petey?”

Peter musters up a small smile to return to her. His head is pounding now and he leans against the wall for support. “Yep!”

“Well don’t have too much fun,” Tony shrugs his coat over his shoulders and him and Pepper step into the waiting elevator. They wave as the door closes.

“Bye Mommy! Bye Daddy!” Morgan waves back.

She takes Peter’s hand and looks up at him. “Ready?” Peter nods. The headache is blinding now and he can hardly think straight. The room is spinning and waves of nausea roll over him to the point where he has to rest his hands on his knees until the bout passes.

“You okay?” Morgan rests a hand on Peter’s sleeve and sharp spikes of pain race up his veins towards his neck. He coils away from her touch and ends up on the ground. This can’t be good. He takes a breath and rolls up the sleeve of his sweatshirt. A raised red bump greets him.

The Starks’ garage was a mess. Old bots and other projects that Tony didn’t need anymore littered the floor and boxes of old tools and car parts were stacked up to the windows. At one point, Peter moved a stack of firewood into the house near the hearth. There was a nest of spiders wedged between the logs and Peter swears he saw one bite his arm. But he was sure it was nothing to be worried about. He was Spider-Man, after all. Whatever spider had bitten him, it was sure to be no worry.

But now, as he swallows back the bile rising in his throat and his arm that had been bitten throbbed so deeply he could barely think, he wasn’t so sure.

The skin around the bite was red and swollen but other than that didn’t look too abnormal. Peter rolls down his sleeve and forces his face into a smile. “I’m okay, Morgs.” Her face is unconvinced so he takes her hand with his good arm. “I’m okay.”

“Promise?” She holds out her pinky.

“Promise.” He hooks her pinky around hers and she nods. “Are you hungry? I think we should eat before we have our tea party.”

“Can we have dino nuggets?”

Peter pushes himself up off the floor and takes a moment to catch his breath before responding. “Whatever the princess wants.”

She takes his hand and pulls him towards the kitchen, slower than she normally would, but with all the usual enthusiasm. His feet blunder underneath him and legs float as if disconnected from the rest of his body. A bead of sweat races down his temple and he catches it with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

In the kitchen, he blows out a shaky breath and digs in the freezer for the chicken nuggets. His chest feels full of tissue paper and he can’t suck in a full breath.

Once the nuggets are in the oven and a glass of juice has been poured for Morgan, Peter searches through the cupboards for some tylenol or ibuprofen or anything really. Once he gets his hands on a bottle of ibuprofen, his shaking hands are barely able to twist the cap off, but once he does, he shakes out a handful of the tiny orange pills and swallows them, chasing them down with a glass of apple juice.

Some time passes and Morgan plays her music and Peter is almost able to take his mind off of the warning buzzing in the back of his neck and the increasingly painful stomach cramps that come and go like a wretched tide.

Once they’ve both eaten, (Morgan more than Peter, for once.) Morgan leads Peter down the hall to her room and shows him to a seat at a table set up with her pink-and-white porcelain tea set and stuffed animals resting in their own chairs in front of their own teacups and saucers.

Morgan picks up the teapot and “pours” the tea for herself and Peter and each of the guests at the table. Peter zones out for a moment, but Morgan must have said something to him because she’s staring at him expectantly.

“Petey?”

“Yeah?” Peter blinks. His stomach is full of bricks and it aches like it never has before. He clamps his arms around his middle and breathes as deeply as he is able.

“I said do you want sugar,” Morgan sighs, exasperated.

“I think I’m good.” Peter replies. He can no longer ignore the pain and his sweatshirt is damp with sweat.

Morgan sets the sugar bowl down on the table and rests her forearms on the white tablecloth. “You’re not very fun to play with today.”

Peter looks up and his head pounds. “I’m sorry babe. I just don’t feel very good. Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

Morgan sighs. “I guess. But only if it’s Nemo.”

“Nemo it is. You go get it started and I’ll be right in.”

As Morgan bounces off to the movie room, Peter stumbles into the bathroom, leaving the light off to ease his headache. He rests his head on the cool granite of the bathroom counter and breathes for a moment, working up the courage to fight back the nausea that threatened to cripple him. His heart is racing and so is his mind, trying to match up his symptoms with something, anything that he could remember from his time being a Boy Scout when he was younger and Ben was still around. It almost felt like it might be a black widow bite, but wouldn’t there be fang marks? Or maybe there wouldn’t, Peter doesn’t know.

“Petey? Are you coming?” Morgan’s voice pulls him from his head. He splashes water onto his face and takes small deliberate steps to avoid toppling on his way to the movie room. It’s only a couple rooms down the hall, but still, Peter is sweating and his legs are trembling and he practically collapses down onto the couch when he arrives. Breaths come in labored pulls and his head is swimming in pain.

Morgan orders FRIDAY to start the movie and FRIDAY complies, but Peter has a difficult time focusing on the movie, or anything besides controlling his breathing and not puking all over the rug.

Peter doesn’t know how, but somehow, he was able to make it through the movie and to Morgan’s bedtime. She had fallen asleep on his shoulder and he somehow hadn’t noticed until after the movie had ended.

He moves to wake her and everything hurts. He doesn’t remember feeling this horrible since the first spider bite. Oh no. It couldn’t be happening again, right? No, right. Yeah. It couldn’t happen again. Unless…

“Is it over?” Morgan sits up and rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“It’s over, baby. Time for bed. You should go and use the potty and brush your teeth really quick so we can get you to bed. It’s getting late.”

“I would do that all really quick if I could get a juice pop.”

Peter sighs. “Alright. One juice pop. Then bed.”

“Deal.” She hops up from the couch and bounds toward the kitchen.

Peter leans forward, an involuntary groan escaping from his lips as his stomach cramps again. When he stands, his vision blacks out, and he comes crashing down to the floor.

Tony’s watch buzzes on his real arm. Peter’s photo lights up the display. He pulls his phone from his pocket and picks up the call.

“Hey Pete, how’s it going? Everything alright on the home front?”

“Daddy?” Morgan’s voice is shrill, like it only is when she’s scared.

“Morgan? Are you okay?” This grabs Pepper’s attention and she comes closer to Tony and the two of them walk away from the center of the social circle to the outskirts where they can hear better.

“It’s Peter,” she says. “I think he fell down and now he’s sleeping really hard and I can’t wake him up.” Her voice wavers and Tony’s heart speeds up, fluttering and skipping over beats like they’re nonessential.

“It’s okay Morgie. You did great. Can you tell me where he fell?” Pepper’s eyes are wide and Tony fights to keep his demeanor calm when all he wants to do is freak out.

“In the movie room.”

“Did he hit his head when he fell?”

“I…” Morgan whimpers, “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay babe. No worries. Everything is all good. Mommy and I are going to be home in just a couple minutes, okay? It’s all going to be okay.”

“Okay…”

“I’m going to give the phone to Mommy, okay? And we’ll be home really soon.”

“Okay.”

He hands the phone to Pepper and they leave the party in a whirlwind of curt goodbyes and squealing tires until they are back at the apartment and running through the lobby, barking inquiries about Peter’s condition at FRIDAY.

When the elevator doors finally open at their penthouse apartment, Tony and Pepper sprint down the hall to the movie room. When they finally get there, Tony’s stomach drops. It’s a sight no parent should ever have to see, one of their kids pale and sweaty and passed out on the floor while the other looks on with tears in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks.

Tony skids across the floor and his knees creak when he droops down close to Peter (he would pay for that later). “Peter? Time to wake up buddy. It’s not bedtime yet.” He cups Peter’s cheek and he can see Pepper ushering Morgan out of the room out of the corner of his eye.

Peter shifts under Tony’s touch and groans. His eyes open, just slightly, and then close again. “Come on buddy. Talk to me. You can do it.”

“T’ny?” Peter breathes. His face is so pale. Way too pale.

“Yep, it’s me buddy. What’s going on?”

“I,” his face scrunches in pain and he lets out a breath, “I dunno.”

“It’s okay bud. No worries. Everything’s gonna be fine. Cho’s on her way, but she’s about 20 minutes out. Be honest, can you wait that long? Or should I take you to the ER?”

“I dunno.”

“Okay, okay. That’s fine. We’re gonna get this all sorted out, no problemo here.”

Peter hums and closes his eyes. “Oh, no siree, we’re gonna want you to keep those peepers open right now, okay? Peter? Open up.”

Peter hums again and opens his eyes back up. He gasps and sits up suddenly, like he just realized what was happening. “Morgan?” Peter whips his head around searching for the girl and Tony manhandles Peter back to the ground.

“Morgan’s fine, kiddo. She’s with Pepper.”

He blows out a breath. “Okay, that’s good. That’s good.”

“How long have you been feeling this miserable bud?” Tony maneuvers himself so that Peter’s head on his thigh and he tangles his fingers in Peter’s sweaty curls.

“Since yesterday. Got bit by a spider.”

“Again bud? You have quite the luck with spiders, huh?”

Peter squints up at Tony. “Could you turn the lights down? Head hurts.”

“FRIDAY, lights down to 15 percent.” She complies.

“Tony, I don’t—“ Peter claps his hand over his mouth and gags.

“Woah, it’s okay. It’s okay. Let’s get you—“ he pushes Peter up into a sitting position and rubs his back. Peter gags again and vomit splashes onto the dark carpet. “There you go. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sor—“ he doubles over again and groans.

“Hey, it’s all good. No apologies here. I was thinking this rug was getting to be out-of-style anyways.” Peter just whimpers.

“It hurts Tony. Like, really bad.”

“I know bud. I’m so sorry.”

Peter leans into Tony’s chest and Tony rubs his shoulders. “Make it stop,” Peter whines. “Make it stop, Tony, please.”

Tony holds Peter closer. Peter is hot. Like, just-ran-three-miles-in-the-August-heat hot. “FRI, ETA on Cho?”

“Helen Cho will arrive in seven minutes.” Even though she’s just an AI, Tony swears her tone is sympathetic.

“Can you tell me where it hurts bud?”

“My stomach and… my— oh Tony my head too.”

“Cho’s gonna be here any minute bud. Just hang in there.”

“Mmhmm,” Peter nods into Tony’s chest and he can tell that he’s crying. It makes his heart ache.

The next seven minutes pass slowly and painfully, but somehow, they pass. When Cho gets there, she takes the situation by storm and all Tony can do is watch.

“Did he say what kind of spider it was?” She pricks the back of Peter’s hand with a needle and hands Tony the saline bag with instruction to squeeze.

“Uh, no he didn’t.”

“How long has it been since he was bitten?”

“36 hours, max.”

“And what are his symptoms?”

“He said his head hurt, and his stomach. Fever and sweating. Nausea and vomiting too.”

She holds his eyelids up and flashes a penlight into both of his eyes. “Anything you want to add, Peter?”

“Hard to breathe. Can’t really move my legs.”

“Got it. It sounds to me like this might be a black widow bite. Were there two fang marks at the bite site?”

“I don’t… I don’t remember.”

“It’s okay. No worries. I’m going to give you muscle relaxants, painkillers, and something for the nausea.” She digs around in her kit and produces three syringes that she systematically plunges into Peter’s saline line.

“Givit to me straight, doc,” Peter slurs. “How long do I got?”

Cho huffs our a laugh. “You’ll be fine, Peter.”

“Oh goodie.”

“Yes ‘oh goodie’. You’ll still be hurting for a couple more hours, but we just gotta let the venom flush out of your system. So that means lots and lots of water.”

“Hope I don’ drown.”

“Looks like those painkillers are kicking in nicely,” Cho smiles as she packs up her bag. “Call me if anything changes.”

“Thank you.” Tony puts a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s no problem.”

As Peter fades in and out of consciousness, Tony works on getting him cleaned up and changed into a pair of Tony’s old sweats, carefully threading the IV line through the sleeves of his sweat-damp hoodie. The bite is swollen and red and Tony feels sick at the thought of Peter feeling so horrible for so long.

Tony wedges his arm under Peter’s and the two of them wobble over to Peter’s room together. Peter collapses into the bed and Tony helps him get comfortable, pulling up the comforter and brushing his slightly-too-long curls off of his clammy forehead.

“Daddy?” Tony whips his head around.

“Morgan? Aren’t you supposed to be asleep right now?” He sits on the edge of Peter’s bed.

Morgan just shrugs and fists her pajama shirt in her hands. He beckons her over and pats his knee. “C’mere madam secretary.” He pulls her close and bumps heads with her. “Pete’s fine. See?” He points over at Peter, and Peter raises his arm in a pathetic wave.

“Hiii Morgie,” Peter says, a touch too loud. “I’m gettin’ aaalllll better. No problems here, no siree.”

“See babe? He’s fantastic. A little high, but other than that, he’s doing great.”

Morgan looks back up at Tony and sniffles. “Are you sure?”

“Sure? Honey, I’m positive.” Morgan nods and crawls up into the bed with Peter, where he tucks her under his arm.

“Well,” Tony slaps his knees, “I think I’m going to turn in for the night. Holler if you need anything, okay?” Peter mumbles something along the lines of ‘okay’ and Tony switches off the lamp. “Love you guys.”

“Love you too,” Peter mumbles and Tony’s heart melts.

[dorksndisasters]

Session 3

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Ok no I did totally forget about this, my bad

episode 5 has just gone up on patreon.com/scmalarky if you want to get ahead! That’s the first one I ever wrote!

This is where Marask joined! They entered the underground market area! It quickly became their favourite place to go!

players involved: Carric, Marask, Ophibwynn, Uriel

##

The market is busy as ever; there doesn’t seem to be one specific market day here, thought the stalls do change from day to day.

Ophibwynn (still nursing a slight headache from the night before) meets Carric and Uriel, squinting slightly. “No Siana?”

“Don’t know where she is,” Carric says, and offers her a mushroom.

Ophibwynn takes it, dubious, and offers it to Gordon to sniff at.

“To help with your headache,” Carric says. “Promise.”

Ophibwynn shrugs and eats it. “Alright, so-”

She’s interrupted by two crows that come careening out of the sky and circle the group, cawing.

“Hey!” Uriel unsheathes her sword, pointing it at them. “Be warned, crows.”

One of the crows lands and shifts form, becoming a scruffy looking man in his mid-thirties. “Hey, hey, easy!” He holds up his hands as the other crow lands on his shoulder. “Just me.”

“Marask.” Carric smiles. “Been a while.”

Uriel sheathes her sword, still giving his crow a narrow Look.

“Yeah. What are you doing here?”

“Meeting someone,” Ophi replies. “Well, meeting someone that’ll take us to meet someone else.”

Marask tilts his head, like he’s trying to parse that. “Alright. Mind if I tag along?”

Uriel whips her head around, staring into the throng of people. Her hand rests lightly on the hilt of her sword.

“Hey, Uriel, buddy...? What have you seen there?”

“Thieves,” she says, and stalks into the crowd.

“Well don’t - don’t murder them!” Carric hurries after her. “You don’t have to-”

"Good to see you again," Ophi says to Marask, as they follow. "Seen anything interesting?"

"Oh, you know, this and that."

Uriel is stalking a lizardfolk and a kenku that seem to be working together; the lizardfolk, being bigger, is drawing attention simply by walking past and being intentional about brushing past people, bumping into them, drawing their ire. The kenku, when their mark turns to challenge him, lifts whatever she can from their pockets and melting back into the crowd.

"Hello," Uriel says, almost pleasantly, and holds her sword against the kenku's back.

"Wait." Carric grabs Uriel's arm. "Think about this."

"Is there something you want?" the lizardfolk asks, a growl underlining his words.

"Nope, nu-uh, not at all," Ophi says, smiling. "Sorry."

Marask grins and shifts to his half-form; taller, his arms becoming wings, feet becoming talons, feathers weaving in amongst his hair. He looks almost like a kenku, although much larger. "I come," he says, voice deeper and slightly clipped, "To bring you with me out of this citadel, and what do I find?" He fixes his gaze on the kenku.

The kenku freezes, one hand extended towards Ophi's satchel, and gazes up at him with something like awe in her eyes. "Herald?" she croaks out.

"Don't be stupid," the lizardfolk growls. "That isn't anything to do with-"

The crow on Marask's shoulder cuts him off with a series of harsh caws, spreading its wings wide.

"What are you bringing me?" Marask asks.

The kenku lifts up her satchel and opens it, holding it for Marask to peer inside.

His eyes light up as he stares at the contents. There are four whistles, two stones marked with painted glyphs, and two eggs that are mismatched in size.

"Acceptible." Marask takes it.

The kenku almost starts to protest; "I need to take egg - all - to Spires! You-"

"I am not asking," Marask says, sorting everything into his own bag. "It is a paltry tribute."

"But-"

Marask holds up a wing. "Hush."

The kenku claps her beak shut so fast that everyone can hear it click.

Marask turns away to hide the grin growing on his face, and the other three follow him.

"So - what, you con kenku into believing you're their god?" Ophi asks.

"How well does that normally work out for you?"

"It gets me some fun things." Marask sorts through his spoils. "What can you tell me about these?"

"Well," Carric says, poking at the whistles. "One of these is magic. Not sure what it does, though."

"And these?" Marask touches the eggs. "This one's gotta be something good, right?" He strokes the bigger one.

It's cooling, to the touch, and a deep black, spattered with white specks that, in the darkness of his bag, seem to glow slightly.

"Not sure." Carric frowns at it. "Ophi?"

"It looks like... like something out of a story," Ophi starts to say, before she is interrupted.

There's a commotion not far off, and the group collectively looks over to see two lizardfolk sweeping a stall clear of what looks like votive statues as the stall owner protests.

Marask hands his bag off to Ophi and leaps into full crow, circling around the lizardfolk for a better angle. He dives, shifting forms at almost the last moment to crash into one of them, sending them stumbling away from the stall. The statues fall from their grip as they yell out.

Uriel dashes in, almost unsheathing her sword.

"Hey!" Carric calls out a warning after her.

Uriel reverses her grip on her sword and smacks the other lizardfolk so hard that he falls unconscious.

The lizardfolk that Marask hit turns and lashes out at him with their claws, snarling.

Marask, unable to dodge back in time, is hit across his arm, the claws tearing through his skin.

Ophi leaps, using some magic to boost herself high enough to get the drop, kicking the lizardfolk in the head.

In the commotion, Uriel sweeps the statues into her own bag.

"Here's your stuff," Ophi says, holding out his bag to Marask.

"Thanks." He resumes his human form, rubs the faded claw marks, and turns to the nearest stall. "Can I interest you in some whistles?" He lays out three of them on the stall.

"Aren't they from-" the stallholder starts to say.

"Only the finest, hand-carved," Marask speaks over him, "A perfectly tuned toy for any young, budding musician."

The stallowner is doubtful, but they name a price and Marask takes it.

"And these statues-"

"Those are mine," the stallowner says. "I won't - hey!"

Marask is leaving, three statues sticking out of his bag. "Consider it payment!" he calls back.

"You're as bad as Uriel."

"Hey!" Uriel and Marask speak in tandem, both sounding just as shocked.

"I don't try to murder everyone," Marask says.

"I don't try to sell people their own wares," Uriel says.

Ophi laughs. "Maybe you should both stop."

"Maybe," says Marask, and his eyes glitter as he sees another trio.

This one is a kenku and two humans; Marask shifts to his half form again and stalks over.

"Paltry tribute," says Marask, right in the kenku's ear.

The kenku jumps, turns, catches sight of Marask and instantly prostrates himself.

"Fuck." One of the humans bursts into motion, running through the crowd.

"Gordon-" Ophi lets her familiar down. "Follow!"

The rabbit disappears after the man.

Carric squares up to the other human. "I'm going to need you to stop doing this." She tries to stare him down.

He laughs in her face. "Or what?"

Carric appears to think for a minute, then shrugs and twists her hand to release magic. He's encased in a gelatinous cube that starts to eat away at his skin.

He's screaming, but Carric adds another layer of spell that silences him, and the cube makes short work of him until all that remains is his clothes, his bag, and the ring that had been on his finger.

She crouches to pick it up, and finds a further two rings in his bag. "Sweet."

The marketgoers are giving them as wide a space as they can, seemingly unwilling to linger long

"You see what we do to rulebreakers?" Marask says, still standing above the kenku.

"No more," he croaks. "No crime."

"I need you to leave this city a new kenku," Marask says. "With nothing to your name."

The kenku wriggles out of his robe and places it on the ground before Marask.

"I don't think he meant-" Ophi starts to say.

"No, I did," Marask cuts her off, holding up his hand.

The kenku lays a leather pouch on top of his robe, and dares to look up. "Everything."

"Good." Marask nods. "Now, never return to this city. Live a virtuous life."

Carric laughs, quietly.

The kenku gets slowly to his feet, still hunched in a bow, and backs away until he's out of sight.

"So," Marask says, turning to the others. "Where now?"

"Well," Ophi says, and her eyes glow faintly as she focus on the link between her and Gordon. "I think we've got something."

They follow Gordon’s trail to a deserted alley. He’s waiting before a stack of cracks, sniffing at its base.

“He was following someone, right?” Carric asks. “I don’t see anyone.”

Ophi tugs at the crates, and they swing as one, pulling open the door behind them. “He went down here,” she says, gesturing down the dark stairs.

“Huh.” Carric peers in.

“Well-” Marask starts to say.

Uriel plunges straight in.

“Woah, wait-”

“We have to find this guy, yes?” She doesn’t look back. “And maybe I can kill him.”

“You don’t have to kill him,” Carric hisses, hurrying down the steps after her.

Marask and Ophi trade a glance and follow after them, Ophi tugging the door shut in their wake.

The stairs wind down into the depths below the city, twisting back on themselves a couple of times before they reach a rotting wooden door.

Beyond the door is a lively buzz of voices and clatter.

“They went through here?” Carric asks.

“Did you see any other places they could have gone?” Marask asks. “Open it, open it.”

Uriel pushes open the door to reveal a cavernous room filled with people of all races, more stalls, and a constant thrum of chatter and yells.

“Is this – is this another market?” Ophi asks, taking tentative steps into the room. “Below the ground?”

“It’s the blackmarket,” Marask says, his eyes gleaming. “Holy fuck.”

Carric grabs hold of Uriel as she starts to drift into the crowd. “So where now?”

Uriel is grinning in delight, eyes wide and flickering over the gathering.

“We should... we should find that person,” Ophi says, but she’s sounding less convinced as she walks further in. “Come on.”

They’re attracting a few stares as they wander in, and the nearest few conversations die.

The group don’t seem to notice the changing attitudes as they look around.

“Staffs!” Ophi rushes to a stall. “Ooh, I want that one!” She points at a staff with a lantern attached to the top of it. “Can I – uh, I can trade... my flute?” She pulls out a carrot that’s been carved into an instrument.

The stallowner raises her eyebrows, sceptical. “A carrot. For a staff.”

“Not just any carrot!” Ophi shakes her head. “It’s a musical carrot, listen.” She plays a quick jig that sets people’s feet tapping, bright and tricky.

The stallowner whistles, partway impressed. “Alright, I guess.” She hands over the staff Ophi wants, taking the carrot. “Quite a tune you can get out of this.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Ophi nods. “And - and it won’t rot! It’ll keep like that as long as you need it to.”

“Hey, you’re a sorceror as well, right?” Marask asks Carric. “Can you like... make my daggers fancy?”

“Uh-” Carric blinks at the dagger he shoves in her face. “Maybe?” She takes it.

Her wren hops onto her hand, beside the dagger, and taps its beak against the blade.

Carric blinks, and her eyes gleam slightly. The blade glows, too, just for a moment.

“There.” She passes it back. “It... should paralyse people now. For a while.”

“Sweet.”

Carric blinks and shakes her head. “Alright.” She sells off her non-magical rings to a nearby jeweller.

Uriel, meanwhile, has stalked further into the room, casting her eyes about for the person that they’d been following.

“Ooh, you have pies!” Marask all but runs to a nearby stall, slapping his hands down on the edge of it.

The stallowner doesn’t quite flinch, but his hand tightens reflexively about a knife at his side. “Yes. 25 silver.”

Marask whistles. “Ooh, they must be good then, right?” He buys two and turns into the crowd, grinning. “Hey!” he yells out. “Food fight!” He throws one of his pies into the crowd and waits, raising himself onto his toes.

Behind him, the stallowner rolls his eyes and shrugs.

No one takes the bait, and Marask pouts.

“Hey, where did Uriel go?” Carric asks, looking around.

“This way,” Uriel says, reappearing. “I’ve found your guy.” “Is he dead?” Ophi asks, following.

“No. Why, did you want him dead?”

“No!” Marask hisses, following. “Not everyone has to die!”

Uriel shrugs carelessly and leads them across the room to an offshoot corridor. “There, see?” She drops her voice to a whisper and points around the corner.

There’s an orc standing outside one of the doors, and the human they’d been chasing slightly further along the corridor.

Marask launches into action, wielding both of his daggers. He cuts the orc across the leg and spins about to try and get the human, who’s just out of his reach.

Ophibwynn runs after him, and manages to hit the human with her new staff, sending him stumbling backwards.

Uriel all but cackles as she too launches into the fight.

Carric, meanwhile, uses the distraction to sneak into the room the orc is guarding. It’s well appointed, with drapes and a desk and a few shelves of books. There’s a wardrobe against one wall, the door cracked slightly open, and a glass fronted cabinet with bottles displayed in it. The desk is big and heavy, and on one side of it stands Annan, almost to attention, in front of a pair of chairs. On the other side someone else sits, invisible from Carric’s position.

“... anyway, they weren’t there, so they can’t be that big a threat,” Annan is saying to someone else. “If they can’t keep an appointment, I don’t know if they're worth it.”

“Don’t underestimate them,” someone else replies, and Carric sees the man from the Knave and Cauldron, Aelfswild. “They found the camp, after all.”

“Uh. Hi.” Carric stands. “You’re Aelfswild, right?”

He looks up and across the desk at her. “However did you find your way in here?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t find you at the market like we agreed,” Annan says, not quite glaring at Carric.

“We followed a thief.” Carric gestures back across her shoulder.

Aelfswild gets to his feet and walks around the desk. “I see.”

“Can I – can the rest of my friends come in?” Carric asks.

“But of course,” Aelfswild says, and opens the door.

The fight stalls when he steps out.

Ophi and Marask pull back, Ophi hiding her staff behind her back.

“You.” Aelfswild snaps his fingers at the thief. “Get lost.”

The thief disentangles himself from Uriel’s hold and dashes back down the corridor.

“Come in, please.” Aelfswild gestures to the open door.

They follow him inside, and the orc stands stiffly against the wall to the side of the door, not quite leaning on its axe.

“We found this note,” Ophi says, as Aelfswild closes the door and steps back around the desk. “Here.” She pulls it from her pocket and places it on the desk.

“Thank you.” He gives it a cursory glance as he sweeps it to the side, into a pile of papers.

“What is it about?” Ophi asks.

“A venture,” Aelfswild replies. “I was trying to branch out, to set up a caravan trail to take goods between settlements. Alas, it appears to have fallen through with that particular partner.”

“Oh. I’m... sorry?”

Aelfswild shrugs. “We all must fail sometimes. Now, is there anything I can do for you?” He turns to his cabinet and pulls out a bottle and several tankards, pouring drinks for the group.

“Well... not really?” Ophi glances around the group. “We just... wanted to get that back to you, I guess.”

They take the drinks as he passes them over.

Annan snorts, and Aelfswild shoots her a pointed glance. “In that case, may I interest you in a job?” He sits down at his desk again and lifts his own tankard in a toast.

“What sort of job?” Marask asks, taking a slug of the beer.

“Collection,” Aelfswild replies. “I have several items that have been paid for, but they need picking up and brought back to me before I can send them out.”

“Seems dumb to sell them before you have them.”

“It’s something of a second-hand service.” Aelfswild replies. “I connect buyers with sellers.”

“And you need more people to help?”

“We are a small... start up.” Aelfswild smiles. “Especially now that my main backer has pulled out, for the time being. You understand that I would like to get set up so that when they do need my services, I am in a position to... to help further.”

“... Sure,” Carric says slowly. “I guess we can pick some stuff up for you.”

Aelfswild smiles. “Excellent. I don’t have one lined up right at this moment, but I trust I can find you at the Knave and Cauldron when I do?”

The group collectively nods.

“Excellent!” Aelfswild repeats. “Until the next time.”

Annan gets to her feet, strides to the door, and opens it for them.

They file out, and she all but slams the door in their faces.

“Uh-” Ophi raises a hand.

“Hm.” Carric frowns.

Marask shrugs. “Hey, buddy.” He waves at the orc, who has slid to sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall. “Here’s for later.” He balances his tankard, still mostly full, on the orc’s head. “I would like more pies.”

“I... I would also like a pie,” Ophi says, turning away. “I guess there’s nothing else to do.”

Carric glances at the orc. “I guess that paralytic worked, then.”

“Oh?” Marask glances back, grins, and waves. “Guess it did. No hard feelings, right?”

The orc glares at him, but is unable to so much as growl after him.