#the past few months have been hard. and last week i very nearly came close to ending

[redgoldsparks]

My very last comic for The Nib! End of an era! Transcription below the cut. instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

The first event I went to with GENDER QUEER was in NYC in 2019 at the Javits Center.

So many of the people who came to my signing were librarians, and so many of them said the same thing: "I know exactly who I want to give this to!" Maia: "Thank you for helping readers find my book!" While working on the book, I was genuinely unsure if anyone outside of my family and close friends would read it. But the early support of librarians and two American Library Association awards helped sell two print runs in first year.

Since then, GENDER QUEER been published in 8 languages, with more on the way: Spanish, Czech, Polish, French, Italian, Norwegian, Portugese and Dutch.

It has also been the most banned book in the United States for the past two years. The American Library Association has tracked an astronomical increase in book challenges over the past few years. Most of these challenges are to books with diverse characters and LGBTQ themes. These challenges are coming unevenly across the US, in a pattern that mirrors the legislative attacks on LGBTQ people. The Brooklyn Public Library offered free eCards to anyone in the US aged 13-21, in an effort to make banned books more available to young readers. A teacher in Norman, Oklahoma gave her students the QR code for the free eCard and lost her job. Summer Boismeir is now working for the Brooklyn Public Library. Hoopla and Libby/Overdrive, apps used to access digital library books, are now banned in Mississippi to anyone under 18. Some libraries won’t allow anyone under 18 to get any kind of library card without parental permission. When librarians in Jamestown, Michigan refused to remove GENDER QUEER and several other books, the citizens of the town voted down the library’s funding in the fall 2022 election. Without funding, the library is due to close in mid-2024. My first event since covid hit was the American Library Association conference in June 2022 in Washington, DC. Once again, the librarians in my signing line all had similar stories for me: “Your book was challenged in our district" "It was returned to the shelf!" "It was removed from the shelf..." "It was moved to the adult section."

Over and over I said: "Thank you. Thank you for working so hard to keep my book in your library. I’m sorry you had to defend it, but thank you for trying, even if it didn't work." We are at a crossroads of freedom of speech and censorship. The future of libraries, both publicly funded and in schools, are at stake. This is massively impacting the daily lives of librarians, teachers, students, booksellers, and authors around the country. In May 2023, I read an article from the Washington Post analyzing nearly 1000 of the book challenges from the 2021-2022 school year. I was literally on route to a festival to talk about book bans when I read a startling statistic. 60% of the 1000 book challenges were submitted by just 11 people. One man alone was responsible for 92 challenges. These 11 people seem to have made submitting copy-cat book challenges their full-time hobby and their opinions are having an outsized ripple effect across the nation. WE NEED TO MAKE THE VOICES SUPPORTING DIVERSE BOOKS AND OPPOSING BOOK BANS EVEN LOUDER. If you are able too, show up for your library and school board meetings when book challenges are debated. Send supportive comments and emails about the Pride book display and Drag Queen story hours. If you see a display you like– for Banned Book Week, AAPI Month, Black History Month, Disability Awareness Month, Jewish holidays, Trans Day of Remembrance– compliment a librarian! Make sure they feel the love stronger than the hate <3

Maia Kobabe, 2023

The Nib

[minawritesfanfic]

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: After lots of games it is finally time for meet Dexter in person

Part 4

Previous | Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The last few days were hectic, to say the least, with Dexter’s constant crew of agents surrounding him it was hard to send him any more goodies without risking exposing my identity earlier than I intended. I wasn’t sure if they’d allow me to send him treats without thoroughly expecting anything I send so I held back. Things were also hectic due to the new developments in the Bay Harbor Butcher case but also a big lead on someone the fraud department had been trying to catch for months, meaning my team was split pretty thin throughout the building trying to help with major and minor technology errors. It was absolutely insane how many calls we got where it was usually a simple fix, I love my job but god some of my coworkers are idiots. I crossed my arms over my chest with a sigh as I walked down the hallway past the homicide department towards the elevator, I couldn’t help but peek through the glad walls, I was surprised to see that Dexter and his entourage were nowhere to be seen. Though I could see him and another guy hiding away in the back, my attention was drawn away as I heard a voice call out my name. To my surprise it was Debra, Dexter’s sister, I didn’t know her very well but we had started talking more frequently as she’s needed my help quite often as of late.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you up here in a while, how have you been?” She said with a smile tucking her hands into her pockets.

“I’ve been alright considering everything that’s going on, how are you? I heard you guys found the butcher.”

“I’m alright as well, I’m just glad we’re close to putting this guy behind bars. It fucking sucks he was one of us though, you just never know what a person is like behind closed doors yknow?” I nodded stiffly trying not to laugh at the irony.

“Yeah, yeah it’s awful. The world’s a really scary place, but uh can I ask what was the deal was with all those FBI agents and your brother?”

“Ugh don’t even get me started on that, they were his protective detail just in case the butcher came after him but he fucking called them off. I was actually headed to go give him a piece of my mind about that when I saw you.”

“Well, they did seem kind of suffocating..” She gave me a look and I raised my hands defensively, “Sorry not my place, I’ll let you talk to him then.”

“Thanks, I will but uh I was wondering if you would maybe want to grab some drinks later?”

“Oh, I’m sorry not tonight, I probably won’t be done until very late. Maybe another time, first round on me?” She frowned but nodded, she patted my shoulder before storming off to see her brother.

It was great news to hear that Dexter’s constant security detail was gone but it also meant he was off to cause trouble tonight and I was going to figure out what. For now, since I have the chance I should probably send another note, I left the department and headed back to my office. I didn’t like the fact I was going to have to print it here but it would have to do for now, I didn’t want to wait too long and lose his interest and curiosity. Once I was back in my office I had to figure out what I was going to write, the other notes came easy but this one was harder to write. The big finale of our interaction was coming, the day we were set to meet in person, I was thankful I had scheduled it for a week or so after I sent the note as having him meet me with security detail would not have been fun. Now that I knew they were officially gone I could send another note confirming that I still wanted to meet him that Friday after not sending anything for nearly two weeks straight, I printed it out in my office and placed it in the bag with the double fudge brownies I had originally brought as a treat after lunch to instead give to Dexter. This time I would deliver it myself to spice things up. As I walked towards the elevator I wondered if he would try to kill me, that’s definitely something I had to consider. I know he kills murders but I don’t know the full extent of how he operates and if I’m safe from being tied down on one of his tables, but it was a risk I was willing to take. Of course that doesn’t mean I was going to meet him unarmed, I would take my own precautions. I stepped out of the elevator and glanced around making sure he was in his office and approached. I knocked on the door and held out the bag of brownies with the note as I smiled at him.

“Special delivery for Dexter Morgan.” I handed them to him and he offered them, I couldn’t help but notice the grin that briefly appeared on his face.

“Oh thank you, any chance you’re willing to tell me who this admirer is?” He asked as he set it down on his desk and looked away not expecting much.

“Sorry no can do, but I hear it won’t be long. Make sure to clear your calendar for Friday.”

I smirked and turned to make a quick exit when I saw the infamous Lila who Debra could not shut up about, she frowned and I knew she saw my interaction with Dexter and I could only imagine what she was thinking but it couldn’t be good. Before I could do anything she said goodbye to the detective she was talking to and hurried out the room towards the elevator. I sighed knowing that there was no way that this could end well, I left the department with a glance back at Dexter. It wasn’t a surprise that our eyes met again, I just smiled and disappeared out the door.

★ ✮ ★

Dexter read the note as he savored the brownie, it was delicious as always but his mind drifted to the brief conversation with a particular someone who he’d been seeing more frequently around the office. Most would say it was a coincidence but Dexter had stopped believing in those long ago with the job he had, they had to be the secret admirer or very closely involved with them. It didn’t make sense though, how could someone so normal and friendly be like him, he simply refused to believe it. From the most recent note it appears he’ll have an answer soon enough, they reiterated their intentions to meet at the beach beside Coral Cove Marina tomorrow afternoon. It was unsettling how much they knew about him and Dexter wondered if he would have to kill them, his number one rule was to not get caught and it’s not like they were innocent. But if he was interpreting the notes correctly they were likely about as innocent as he was, it was conflicting and killing them would make him the biggest hypocrite. Harry’s code has never prepared him for a situation like this. What right would he have to kill them if they worked under a similar code of conduct as he did? If what he did was just how could he persecute you for the exact thing he would be doing to you?

Rather than fretting over the ethical conundrum of his secret admirer, Dexter had other matters that needed his attention like whether or not he would have to kill this ‘Harlow’ person, after searching up his phone number it wasn’t hard to find his full name. Dexter put Christopher Harlow into the department's database, a known alias for one Jose Garza who had committed various crimes but none of which involved murder. Dexter didn’t need to kill him as long as he didn’t know where the cabin was, so he sent a quick text inviting him there to get his ‘snow’. Dexter didn’t wait long for a response and was relieved to hear that he had no clue, he tucked the phone back into his pocket and stood up. He needed to have a quick chat with Debra but more importantly, he needed more answers from Doakes. What he said had stuck with him, was Harry truly not who he said he was?

★ ✮ ★

Of course, I followed Dexter after he left work, I knew better than anyone he didn’t ditch his security detail just to lay around at home and watch tv porn. My suspicions were confirmed when he didn’t take the usual right at the light toward his apartment, I drove far behind keeping a safe distance between us to avoid being caught. Which grew harder to do as he ventured into the more rural part of Maimi, eventually he turned down a long dirt road. I watched as he took one more turn and eventually turned off his car, as I crept slowly towards the turn I could see up ahead was a very remote cabin. Now that I know where it was I could come back later to see what exactly he was doing here, for now, I had more important things to tend to like Franklin Graney.

The thirty-eight-year-old phone technician who not only kills people but violates them alive and dead, he’d just finished checking in after his last job for the day and was about to head home. He made his way to his truck but before he could even unlock it I came up behind him and used my wire garrote to strangle him, I forced him to kneel on the ground and pushed him away from me so he couldn’t reach back to scratch me. It only took a few minutes for him to pass out, I let his body haphazardly fall onto the concrete. I left him there and pulled my car up beside his, then I dragged him into my backseat. I got into the front and sighed, I peeked back at him through my rearview mirror with a frown but resolved myself to finish the job. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to paradise.

Paradise was in the basement of an abandoned hospital, specifically an abandoned hospital with a morgue built into its basement which was equipped with everything I needed. Of course, I had to rig a few things to work the way I needed them to and clean things very deeply, it was awful in here when I first found it. Now it looked quite nice and I had even decorated it to my liking, and I had taken several measures so that any wanna-be urban explorers wouldn’t be able to get down here even if they tried. It was truly perfect. I turned on my music and got to work dismembering and draining the blood to save for later.

It was nearly midnight when I finished, cleanup was messier than usual today but I got what I needed. Unfortunately I couldn’t bring any of the meat or blood I harvested home because Debra was, unfortunately, spending the night, after we went drinking the last time she confided in me about her relationship with Lundy and apparently took that as us being friends now. I wasn’t a big fan of Debra but if I was going to pursue Dexter I figured it wouldn’t be a bad thing to befriend her, so even if it was unconventional to have her over I was prepared for this. It took a lot of reading, trial, and error but I had successfully managed to rig this floor to a generator which allowed me to use the mortuary fridge. I slid out one of the chambers originally used to store bodies and set the coolers containing the meat and blood onto it, then I slid it back in and shut the door. All I had to do now was take what was left of the body and incinerate it, I chose this hospital specifically because of its incinerator. I could start and finish my disposal of the corpse in one place and didn’t have to bother traveling around to complete the job it was wonderful, I placed the remnants on a cadaver stretcher and wheeled them into the other room. I opened the incinerator door and pulled out the long tray that slides inside, I transferred everything onto it and slid it back in. Then after pressing a button and pulling the lever, the incinerator roared to life, thankfully it was advanced enough to shut off on its own. I just had to come back for the bones another day, I walked back into the main room and grabbed my bag and keys before heading out. I needed to get as much sleep as I could considering what I had planned for tomorrow.

I quietly shut my front door behind me as I slipped off my shoes, of course, Deb had just tossed hers over here haphazardly. I bent over and neatly put them to the side like mine, as I stood back up I was surprised when a light turned on behind me. Debra was sitting up on the couch still awake, I completely forgot that she was still struggling to fall asleep when she was on her own. I smiled over at her and approached.

“You really were out super late.”

“Yeah, I really needed to blow off some steam then I ended up driving around not realizing how late it had gotten.” She nodded but still looked at me a bit odd.

“I see, well I’m glad you’re back safe. I was starting to think something bad happened to you.” I gave her a spin and smiled.

“Well as you can see I’m A-okay, but I desperately need a shower and to sleep for at least a decade.” I walked past her towards my bedroom, “ Good night Deb oh and I probably won’t be at work tomorrow by the way.” I said before shutting the door behind me, I desperately needed to sleep in and prepare for my meeting with Dexter tomorrow.

I tossed my bag off to the side of my bedroom and started to undress, I grabbed my towel and got into the shower. The water was warm and poured down my back it was like a really wet and warm hug. I reveled in it as I wrapped my arms around myself, killing people wasn’t something I had ever come around to enjoying and wasn’t what I wanted to be doing with my life. I had my life fucked from the beginning by people even more fucked up than I had become, so now I kill people so that I could cannibalize them. What a twisted life I was living, everyone I knew would be mortified to learn about what I do or the kinds of things I eat. Though if things continued the way they were nobody ever would, I finished showering and stepped out. The bathroom was warm and foggy from all the steam from my shower, I wrapped my towel around me before wiping away the steam on the mirror. I stared at my reflection briefly and a bloody monster stared back at me, I turned away and quickly left the bathroom. I just needed to go to bed rather than dwelling on things I couldn’t change as it wasn’t doing me any good.

Friday morning came faster than I anticipated but I made sure to call out yesterday so I slept in until ten, though it was hard to stay asleep when I had exciting plans for today. I got dressed and practically ran out the door, thankfully Deb had already left. I got into my car, I still had some time before it was noon so I decided to check out Dexter’s cabin in the woods before meeting him at the beach. I struggled a bit to remember where I was going but the closer I got the easier it was to remember, and eventually, I made it. Thankfully it seemed Dexter wasn’t here right now, I got out of the car and my clothes flowed slightly in the breeze. I nervously approached the cabin, it was old and looked damn near run down. I opened the door and was instantly met with a foul but familiar stench, I winced but stepped inside despite it and was surprised to see Sergeant Doakes locked behind a cage.

“Thank you, god, please you have to get me out of here.” He said with a relieved sigh as he stood up.

“What-what happened to you? Why are you locked up here?” I asked mostly to myself as I approached the cage resting my hand against the bars.

“It’s that freak, Dexter Morgan, he’s the Bay Harbor Butcher and he locked me in here. You have to get me out, the keys are over there.”

I frowned and I genuinely felt bad, to be honest, I liked Doakes and respected him as an officer but I couldn’t let him expose Dexter when I still had business with him. I thought for a moment debating what I should do, I didn’t want to leave him here as realistically Doakes hadn’t done anything wrong besides getting too close to the truth. Which was probably why Dexter hadn’t killed him already. It was his problem to deal with and I really shouldn’t get involved, I turned around and bolted out of the cabin despite his cries for help. I felt sick to my stomach, just leaving him there but what was I supposed to do? I had finally found someone somewhat like me, how could I throw away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this? I quickly turned my car around and drove as fast as I could back to the main road, I decided to head to the beach even though there was still time before noon. I could hang out there and wait for Dexter to arrive but also spend some time clearing my head.

★ ✮ ★

After an enlightening but also earth-shattering conversation with Captain Matthew Dexter was lost, despite that he still arrived at the beach on time to finally find out who this secret admirer was. He stood far away from the shore in the shade with his hands in his pockets, he stared off into the distance where the ocean stretched out for miles farther than he could see but he also observed the various people littered across the beach. So when someone approached him from his left he turned to see who it was, and his suspicions were confirmed though it left him with far more questions than answers. She smiled at him but seemed apprehensive and kept a safe but reasonable distance.

“See we finally met huh? I’m sure you’re already working out how to get rid of me in your head which I wouldn’t recommend unless you want everyone at the office to know it was you. I’m just here to talk, now can we do that or are you going to take care of me like you did Roger?” Despite her body language showing how anxious from her eyes Dexter could see she wasn’t afraid.

“I have to admit I’m impressed by how bold you are, but you know me well. I won’t kill you for now just don’t give me a reason to.” He said narrowing his eyes slightly for a moment daring her to try something, “Why have you been sending me these gifts, what is it that you want from me?”

“That’s a great question, honestly at first I was just messing with you but then I grew curious once I found out you were the infamous Bay Harbor butcher. We operate in similar ways and I was a bit envious of how neatly you worked, at some point I started to look up to you and maybe even develop a crush.” She admitted turning away and walking further towards the beach, “It’s not every day you meet a serial killer especially one with morals. I figured we could be friends or something.” She said with a laugh as Dexter followed slowly behind her as they walked along the beach.

It was weird for Dexter to hear the words ‘serial killer’ fall so casually from her lips as she laughed like it was the most innocent thing in the world. Dexter’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions and complex thoughts, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting when they asked to meet him here. But he definitely wasn’t expecting a genuine love confession, sure they had been sending him notes under the guise of a secret admirer but he assumed it was just an excuse. Not to mention he was still conflicted as you did have morals on killing like he did so it’s not like he could justifiably kill you, this entire situation was baffling. Dexter couldn’t say he wasn’t attracted to her though, despite being weary she still carried herself with a confidence and aliveness that he didn’t have. He couldn’t wrap himself around how she could when they were the same, what did she have that he didn’t?

“That was a bit forward, wasn’t it? I’m sure this is kind of a lot.” She said with an awkward laugh, Dexter wondered if she could read his mind.

“I just never imagined I would find someone like-minded, but you want to be friends? How do I know you won’t just betray me?”

“Uhh I don’t know…” She paused thinking for a moment weighing her options in her head, “I could give you the location to my kill room? Then you could give me something more concrete about, uh let’s call it our hobby, then we’ll be even. Is that good enough for you?” Dexter thought for a moment, he hesitated but he’d be lying to himself if he wasn’t desperate for a connection much like this one.

“Sharing our vulnerabilities would be enough for me to consider this friendship, I keep my tools in a secret compartment in a chest in my apartment.” Dexter frowned as soon as the words came out his mouth, why did he tell her that, he could be risking his entire well-being just for some woman. But after everything going on with Rita and Lila, he needed someone more like-minded and rational.

“Oh so that’s what was in that trunk, I knew it was suspicious. Well, there’s this abandoned hospital on the outskirts of town that closed a little over a decade ago, in the basement is where I keep everything and do my work. There now we both have a safeguard in case of the other.”

“Yes, mutually assured destruction.”

“Exactly, but now for the other reason I invited you here. I do want to actually get to know you as a person Dexter, so how do you feel about treating this as an actual date?” She extended her hand out to him offering to hold hands.

Dexter mused for a moment with an unreadable expression as he stared down at her hand, “An actual date doesn’t sound bad. That’s fine with me.” He laced his fingers between her and she smiled.

“Perfect, I should probably start by introducing myself.” She told Dexter her name and he remembered Debra mentioning her once or twice, “Anyway do you know why I chose this beach?” She asked.

Dexter nodded and listened quietly as the woman went into a long speech about why she had chosen this beach besides its connections to Dexter. They walked along the shore as she did hand in hand with the sun shining down on them from high in the sky, from afar they appeared to be a normal-looking couple on a normal date. Dexter still wasn’t sure what to make of all of this, but he was at least enjoying the company as she made for a decent conversationalist. Not to mention he didn’t have to sugarcoat what he said because of a certain hobby of his because she understood, it was refreshing for him. Intoxicating even, his grip on her hand tightened slightly as he stared forward listening carefully to her words.

★ ✮ ★

We ended up walking along the shore talking for several long hours, well I did most of the talking as Dexter wasn’t exactly the chatty type which was fine. He still responded and was actively listening to what I said and occasionally when the topic broached something he was passionate about then he became chatty, but just as quickly he’d go quiet as if he was afraid to be passionate about anything. It was odd but I decided not to comment on it, as it was still the first date and I would have plenty of time to learn about him. Especially about the way he operated, and at some point our conversation drifted that way. I had seen his neatness in person, and I complimented him on how amazing it was that he never left a crime scene. He was very interested in how I disposed of my bodies though, I kept it vague and only talked about the incinerator. It was too early to talk about my cannibalism, I’m sure that’d scare him off faster than I could say, cannibal.

Eventually, the conversation strayed away from our extracurricular activities, we talked about our masks and he was curious how I hid who I really was so well, we talked about family, our normal pass times, and at some point the meaning of life. It was nice being able to let go like this, not having to hide what I do because someone wouldn’t understand. It was like I was breathing for the first time, and from the relaxed smile on Dexter’s face, I could tell he felt the same. I glanced past him and could see the sun setting over the horizon, it was a beautiful sight and the sun illuminated Dexter with a warm glow.

“This is so nice, I feel like I just let a huge weight off my chest. Not to mention the sunset is amazing, it’s so beautiful.” I said walking towards it as Dexter followed closely behind me as our hands were still linked.

“Yeah, admittedly this is kind of nice. I almost feel alive.” He said staring out at the sun with his hand on his heart.

“News flash buddy, you always were alive. You’ve been living every moment, I think you just can’t see it.” He glanced at me but didn’t respond so I changed the topic, “So does this mean I get a second date? I think this went too well to end with one.”

“Yeah, I think a second date would be quite nice.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[geekgirles]

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 9: Close to His Heart

Word Count: 36,047

Read on AO3

Previous/Next

Chapter Summary: "In the wake of her last encounter with Efrim, Amalia is plagued by questions and insecurities that are greatly affecting her mood, which doesn't go unnoticed by Yugo. In an attempt to take her mind off it all, he offers to take her on a whole new adventure. On the way, will Amalia find the answers she's been seeking on how to move forward? And, who knows? Perhaps she won't be the only one to learn new things about herself."

Something was wrong with Amalia, that much was obvious. 

Yugo had noticed something wasn’t right about two weeks ago, when he came by to her room to check up on her and ask her if Nora had reached out to her in the end. Normally, when he visited Amalia—which was almost daily at that point—, her face would split into this dazzling smile that never failed to make him feel valued and appreciated. Whenever Amalia smiled at him like that, he somehow felt more important than when he had to fulfil his kingly duties. It was a little hard not getting addicted to that smile. 

The fact that her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes then, even if he could tell she was glad to see him, should have been his first warning. But he took her answer that she was just tired from working on her garden and pulling an all-nighter just to be all caught up with her studies at face value and didn’t push the issue. 

His concern spiked up, however, when she tensed up the moment he asked about Nora. It was brief, but he definitely registered the way her smile faltered at his question, her brows knitted in an emotion he couldn’t quite identify, a shadow passing over her features fleetingly. But before he had a chance to ask what was wrong, it was gone, the suspiciously faint curl of her lips back on her face. Amalia just said everything was fine between her and Nora, and that they had a very eye-opening conversation (was it just him, or did she actually hesitate when she said that?) before each had to leave for their respective duties of the day. 

When it became apparent she wouldn’t be saying anything else on the matter, Yugo, concerned as he was, chose to let the matter go. He could always ask her later, when she felt ready to talk if something really did happen. However, when he suggested they went out to her balcony to chat like they usually did—since he had already had a sparring session with Adamaï so he wouldn’t be training that day—, he was not-so-pleasantly taken aback when Amalia instead told him she still felt quite tired and asked if they could leave it for another day. 

That should have been his second warning, the alarms blaring a little louder this time. 

Still, he respected her wishes and left her to her own devices, hoping to be able to spend more time together another time. Although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel more rejected than he cared to admit. 

But the biggest sign of all, the one that forced him to confront the fact that something was very much not okay with Amalia was the fact that her melancholic and detached behaviour went on for days. Even though she didn’t stop welcoming him into her room and they had gone back to talking to each other on her balcony, as of late, their conversations had become nearly one-sided on Yugo’s part. No matter what he told Amalia about his day, the most he got out of her were noncommittal comments or sounds, meant to give off the illusion that she was paying rapt attention to him when she was anything but. The few times the king successfully encouraged her to open up and share her day with him, the doll limited herself to vague retellings like, “Oh, you know, the usual. I woke up, had some breakfast, worked a little on my garden before having lunch, then I went to class, had dinner… Nothing new.”

Her attitude was a far cry from the energetic, vivacious, and overly curious doll Yugo had come to know and appreciate over the course of the past few months. Whereas just a few weeks ago Amalia would have told him anything and everything about her day, as well as eagerly listened to what he had to say, hanging onto his every word with almost as much reverence as he listened to her, now she seemed to always be lost in thought, her vibrant brown eyes shining with a certain sadness as they trained in on images that only existed in her mind. 

At first he thought she was just homesick, but that idea was immediately shot down when the doll insisted she wasn’t exactly thinking about her father and sisters with more vehemence and conviction than anything else she had said recently. 

The king also tried asking around in case anyone knew anything, but no matter whom he asked, they all responded in the negative, shrugging their shoulders and explaining that, while they had indeed noticed something was amiss with Lady Amalia, neither of them had any idea as to what might have caused it. The only ones he didn’t ask were the Turquoise Twins; in Efrim’s case, because he knew the dragon would make some sort of disparaging comment towards Amalia, or make his already blatantly clear distrust of her known once more, or both; and he really wasn’t in the mood to argue with his little brother for the umpteenth time. And in Nora’s… Well, because she actually seemed a little… jumpy as of late? Which he supposed made sense, seeing as her twin’s behaviour clearly affected her more than she was willing to admit. 

But the way Amalia kept absentmindedly stirring her soup with her spoon, her head resting against her knuckles, when she had yet to take a single bite was the last straw. It was there that he crossed the line because he had gathered, and seen with his own two eyes, how little Amalia had been eating as of late. Divine Doll or not, she had to eat something or she would wither away like a flower in Descendre. If whatever that was on her mind was serious enough to get her to overlook her health, then there was nothing he wasn’t willing to do to put a stop to it. 

........................................................................................................................

Lazy circles formed within the creamy white liquid presented in front of her, chunks of the steamed molluscs she vaguely remembered the chef ranting on about as he introduced today’s lunch to them emerging from the broth before submerging themselves again with the next swirl of her spoon. Any other day, the aroma of the tangy clams combined with the richness of the cream-based broth would have been mouthwatering. 

Now, though?

Now the longer she stared at her food the more her stomach closed shut, refusing to take even one spoonful. 

It wasn’t exactly that she wasn’t hungry—she had barely eaten anything in days and was already beginning to feel the all-consuming void in her belly demanding sustenance. It was simply that the moment she tried ingesting anything, her frazzled nerves would act up and cause her dinner to refuse to stay down. Well, her dinner, and breakfast, and lunch…

And here she thought going through Eliatrope portals was bad. Now she felt like she was stuck in one even as her feet were planted firmly on the ground. 

Nevertheless, that was nothing compared to the storm brewing inside her mind, her thoughts refusing to quiet down even in the middle of the night. She would toss and turn for hours on end before she was able to catch a single wink of sleep, and when she succeeded, it was all for naught—her dreams were restless, invaded by the very same worries she had been trying to run away from by making it to Draconiros’ realm. 

Whenever she closed her eyes, it was Efrim’s voice that resonated in her mind, and it was all she could do not to cover her ears with her hands and fall to her knees as she begged him to stop. 

But the worst part of all was the undeniable truth that, regardless of the unnecessary brutality of his methods, the dragon was right.

Ever since she arrived at Oma Island, she had prided herself in her role of bridging the gap between Twelvians and Eliatropes. A role she was more than happy to fulfil. Truth be told, even though she was willing to do whatever it took to achieve her goal, Amalia would be lying if she said she so much as had an idea how. Looking back, she hadn’t really taken the initiative to bring all races together, it was all Master Joris and his mistresses’ doing that they were even invited to the banquet at Bonta. At no point did she reach out first. Of course, the very reason the Bontarians and the rest of the Council of Twelve even considered interacting with the Eliatropes was because her very presence encouraged them to, but that didn’t change the fact that Amalia hadn’t done anything to ensure that interest other than to exist. 

Deep down, all she wanted was to be of help to Yugo and his people, and she took her role with the utmost seriousness, as she did everything in her power to help the attending Council members to leave a good impression on the Twelvians. Likewise, one of her biggest motivators for working day and night on her garden was the very possibility of helping the king. Despite everything, however, Amalia had to admit, not without some remorse, that she had been far too engrossed in learning more about the Eliatropes to really broach the topic on how to help the Twelvians learn more about them, too, and vice versa. 

She stopped stirring her chowder altogether, her hand halting in its movements before falling beside the plate, unknowingly taking the spoon with her and leaving a stain on the tablecloth. Her brown eyes, already distant from the whirlwind of emotions overtaking her body and soul, grew even more morose, the stinging feeling coming back as the all-too-familiar tears threatened to make a comeback. But she kept them at bay, far too used to that state of mind to be as affected anymore. 

The glossy tint her eyes took didn’t go away. 

Could she truly say she had been learning more about the Eliatropes when in all the time she spent on Oma she knew nothing at all? When she remained blissfully unaware of the true source of Efrim’s animosity towards her? When she never even entertained the thought that the Twelvians’ refusal to welcome the Eliatropes was because they indeed didn’t belong to their world? Could she really say she was there to help when she didn’t even know the reason why the Eliatropes settled in the World of Twelve in the first place?

She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must’ve felt like to lose everything you knew and loved at the hands of those who once were your closest allies…

That day, as she stared at the mural depicting the battle against the Mechasms, horrified that such cruelty was even possible, it was as if the scars, both physical and mental, that marred each and every single Eliatrope had torn Amalia’s skin, her heart bleeding from the inside out under the weight of her new understanding of the situation. 

As she stood there, the words stuck in her mouth while her tears streamed freely down her cheeks, all the doll wanted to do was wipe off the tears of each and every one of the Eliatrope children and engulf them into a big hug in hopes of making things even if just a tiny bit easier. She wanted to hold the hand of every person who had lost a loved one during the war and tell them everything was going to be okay, over and over again. Maybe if she repeated it enough, she would start believing it herself. 

She wanted to tend to the ill and injured and summon as many medicinal herbs and plants as her magic allowed her to so as to alleviate Qilby and Shinonomé’s burden as much as she could. She wanted to fall to her knees, bring her hands together, and pray alongside Mina and Phaeris, begging her father, or the Great Goddess Eliatrope, or whatever god that was willing to lend her an ear to put an end to the massacre. She wanted to hold the Eliatrope children close and take all their pain away, just like Baltazar and Glip. She wanted to help and lead civilians away from danger, like Nora and Efrim had. She wanted to do everything in her power to help Chibi and Grougaloragran find a solution to their problems, whatever that might be and whatever it may take from her. And she wanted to be by Yugo and Adamaï’s side as they battled the Mechasms, never mind if she used every last drop of wakfu coursing through her veins as long as she could give them a fighting chance. 

She just wanted to help. To help them and wash all their pain and suffering away. 

But she couldn’t, because she realised with a painful pang in her chest and a lump that formed in her throat as powerless tears threatened to choke her, that she still knew nothing about true agony. She wasn’t there to witness the fall of the Eliatropes’ home planet and what its loss meant to its people. She had never lost anything or anyone.

Her family was composed of immortals that lived far beyond mortal reach unless one was already dead. And even that didn’t pose any threat, as none of the souls entering Sadida’s dimension would ever think of so much as laying a finger on the Leafy God and his daughters, for they were sacred to them. 

And given the doll’s own youth, it wasn’t like she had had the chance to know and lose someone. For all intents and purposes, Amalia knew not what grief was like. 

In fact, the most miserable she had been was when Yugo started treating her coolly by keeping his distance all those weeks back. Her faraway look hardened into a glare at the memory. Could she be any more selfish? There she was, acting all offended and wronged just because the king wasn’t paying attention to her while he had to lead his people and rebuild their civilisation, all the while juggling his own heartbreak over their loss, no doubt. 

Efrim was right. She would never understand. And worst of all, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to. She didn’t think she’d be able to survive the sheer tragedy that had befallen the Eliatropes, and she couldn’t help but be disgusted at herself for her cowardice. 

She almost scoffed when her mind traced back to Efrim’s attack, how easily he had disarmed and overpowered her. 

“Some demigoddess you are.”

As the taunts echoed loudly in her mind, causing her to flinch and close her eyes as if in pain for the umpteenth time at the memory, there was nothing she could do to stop the red hot fire of shame from coursing through her veins. And to think just a moment ago she had been imagining herself fighting by Yugo and Adamaï’s side… She shook her head to rid herself of those silly fantasies. She ought to be realistic: if she were to enter a battlefield now, she would only be a liability. 

Amalia knew deep down that her powers weren’t the problem. She was well aware that her divine nature gave her quite an edge over most other adversaries, seeing as her attacks carried a certain power most mortals could only ever dream of, meaning she could easily outclass most opponents. No, the problem came from within. She was the problem. 

What good was it to have immense power over plant-life if she always froze up whenever faced with an actual issue that might justify going on the offensive? 

Images of her recent encounter with Efrim and of Count Harebourg’s deranged advances came flooding back, unbidden, mocking her. Her fists clenched tightly on the table as she tried to fight the painful memories off. Both times she had faced demigods who didn’t want her around—or, in the Count’s case, who wanted her too much—, and both times she froze up and let them overpower her even when she could have easily given herself some time by snaring them with her brambles. 

There was no point in denying it anymore; her magic would be of little use to her if she simply didn’t know how to use it to its full potential and she stood like an Elante in headlights in the face of danger. 

But what hurt the most, loath as she was to admit it, was the way Efrim had hurt her pride. No matter how much she didn’t want it to be true, she depended far too much on Yugo, especially to get her out of trouble when she felt overwhelmed. But, as the dragon had all so helpfully pointed out, Yugo wouldn’t always be there…

She slid her bowl away from her. No point in even pretending she was going to take a single bite anymore. Not when she was plagued by conflicted feelings and emotions. 

On the one hand, the idea of not always being able to rely on Yugo terrified her more than she dared to admit. She had got so used to his presence, to knowing she could always count on him—be it to share her latest discoveries with him or to have someone to talk to, knowing he would always defend her—that the mere thought of finding herself without him one day was unbearable. 

He was her best friend; she craved and cherished his company more than anything.

But on the other hand, she was a Divine Doll, created by Sadida himself to be exceptional and to need no one but herself. Compared to the other demigods on the World of Twelve, who were essentially mortals with longer lifespans and stronger powers, she and her sisters were truly remarkable. Their father needed not to find a suitable mate, he crafted them himself and brought them to life, sharing a part of his essence to ensure they got to live. And not just as animated dolls, but as actual people. Their feelings were their own; their thoughts and opinions didn’t hinge on Sadida’s; the Doll Master trusted them enough to let them venture off into the world on their own whenever it was required of them; and he loved them so much he made sure they would get to call Inglorium their home. 

From her time with Kérubim and Atcham, the doll had learned no other god showed the same courtesy to their children. The closest thing would be how each Ecaflip demigod and demigoddess had access to Ecaflipus, but according to the feline brothers, that was more like a hide-out, rather than an actual home, and it was still heavily influenced by Ecaflip’s bias towards his own children. Every other person with divine parentage was doomed to roam the world of the living, with no chance of ever getting to see the realm of the gods until their time had come. 

All that power within her reach, and she still had to rely on someone else to take care of her, because she clearly couldn’t protect herself?

Hot shame enveloped her entire being once more and she bit down on her bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. She couldn’t go on like this. 

She barely registered a murmur coming from her left. 

What kind of demigoddess couldn’t even take care of herself? 

“...lia.”

Why did she always freeze in fear whenever she was in the face of danger?

“A…lia.”

How could she be so stupid as to think she could help Twelvians and Eliatropes alike if she couldn’t even help herself—?

“Amalia.”

She blinked, the sound of her name being called breaking her out of her trance and bringing a new sense of clarity with it, cutting through the thick fog of her self-inflicted berating. Blinking rapidly a few more times, she eventually regained her bearings. The mostly untouched bowl of that creamy substance was the clam chowder the chef had prepared that day for lunch, and the vast expanse of white underneath the tablecloth. Her brown eyes darted back and forth in the space around her, reacquainting herself with the room. The several members of the kitchen staff waiting on her, standing perfectly straight until she declared she was done with her food so they could move on to the next dish. The large, u-shaped table she was seated at, because the Council of Six liked to be able to talk to each other freely and see each other when they ate. The varied arrangement of cutlery displayed right underneath her nose she remembered from her etiquette classes in preparation for the feast in Bonta. 

And that was when it hit her. She was having lunch—which lately meant holding impossibly long staring contests with her food—in the dining room. 

“Amalia, are you okay?” The soft, caring, yet deep voice that never failed to send a pleasant shiver down her spine spoke again, drawing her attention to its source. Despite the many tumultuous thoughts running through her mind, she couldn’t help but offer a small smile. 

Yugo. 

He was smiling back, though his was tentative, almost afraid, as if he feared she might break right in front of him at any given moment. There was no hiding the genuine concern glinting in his dark brown eyes as they stared intently into her own. For a moment, Amalia wondered why he would be looking at her like that, before his previous question registered in her mind and she found herself in the very same impasse they had been reaching for the past few days. 

Just like all the other times before it, a part of Amalia desperately wanted to tell Yugo that, no, she was not fine. She was being plagued by doubts regarding her self-worth and value within his court. Doubts that had been spurred on by his youngest brother lunging at her and pinning her against the floor as she utterly failed to defend herself, proving just how useless she was even with the unyielding and insurmountable power of nature at her disposal. 

She wanted to tell him everything so badly… 

But, like every single time before, just as she was about to open her mouth and confess her innermost fears and thoughts, Nora’s desperate pleas to not breathe a word to Yugo came flooding back. With clasped hands and fearful, pink eyes, she begged the doll to let her take care of her twin, as he and Yugo had been clashing over her presence on the island for a long time and the last thing she wanted was to further stress her older brother and king. Despite her better judgement, Amalia found herself agreeing with Nora and promising to keep Yugo out of this—he already did so much, for her and for his people; the last thing he needed was for her to add more to his plate. 

And so, once again, the Sadida Doll chose to swallow back down the words clashing against her throat, clamouring for freedom, and simply gave a slight nod of her head.

“Oh, yes, I’m perfectly fine. Thanks for asking.” Saying that had all but become second nature at this point. 

“Are you sure?” This time, she was slightly startled to remember they weren’t alone, her head immediately snapping at the new voice. As she turned to her left, staring straight past Yugo, she came face to face with a draconic face covered with white and blue scales. Oh, that was right. Adamaï was there with them, too. She had honestly forgotten. 

“What do you mean, Adamaï?” She asked, grimacing to herself when her voice sounded weaker than she would’ve liked.

He merely pointed his own spoon in her direction, “You barely touched your food. What’s the matter? Is it not to your liking?”

Her eyes trailing back to her—mostly untouched and most likely cold—plate of chowder, the doll deflated slightly, turning her face away from the Emerald Twins—why were they known as the ‘Emerald Twins’ though? Amalia had heard many of their subjects refer to them and the other members of the Council like that or with similar naming conventions, but she still had to understand what emeralds and such had to do with Yugo and Adamaï. “No, no. Everything is delicious.”

Her voice sounded pathetically small even to her ears. 

As the doll went back to staring silently at her discarded food, a crestfallen expression etched onto her face, the Eliatrope and his dragon twin shared concerned glances. Even if they didn’t share a telepathic link, they would have known what the other was thinking even without words. 

“I’m worried about her, Ad.” Yugo told his brother, his eyes continuously going back to Amalia. “She seems down, she barely talks anymore, and she barely eats anything lately.”

“Her sudden change in demeanour is quite strange…” The dragon agreed, taking a spoonful of his own soup. “Just the other day, she was practically buzzing with excitement over the idea of showing her progress in her garden to us.”

“And now she doesn’t even have the energy to share how her day’s been when we talk…” Yugo finished for him, letting out a pained sigh. 

After a minute of silence where the two just sent furtive glances the doll’s way, trying to earn a reaction out of her, Adamaï went and voiced the thoughts running through their minds. “You said she’s been like this since the day after Nora talked to her. Are you sure nothing happened between the two?”

“What could have possibly happened, Ad? Amalia’s never had any trouble with Nora, and vice versa. In fact, you know as well as I do that our dear sister has always been very accepting of her, so I simply don’t see what could have gone wrong!” His mind traced back to all the times Nora made an approving comment of Amalia or not-so-subtly flirted with her, taking refuge in her own audacity and the fact that it all flew right over the doll’s head to avoid the consequences. 

Seeing his brother pout, Adamaï couldn’t help himself, “Careful, Brother. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous of Nora.” If looks could kill, the glare he shot him should have buried him several metres feet under already. Pursing his lips awkwardly, he let out a sheepish, “Sorry.”

After a tense few seconds, with a loud exhale, Yugo’s expression melted into one of resignation, and even that wasn’t enough to draw Amalia’s attention to them. “I really don’t know what could’ve caused this, Ad. As you said, not that long ago she was perfectly fine! But you just saw it for yourself; every time I try asking her if anything’s wrong, she insists she’s fine even when she’s clearly not!”

Adamaï hummed, coming to hold his chin between his claws. “Have you tried asking Nora about it? You might have better luck with her.” But the king just shook his head ruefully. 

“Getting a hold of Nora these past few days is even more difficult than getting an honest answer out of Amalia. I think she’s still reeling from Efrim’s actions back in the garden. Even if she doesn’t like to let it show, she’s worried sick about him.”

“She’s not the only one…” Adamaï commented drily. He averted his gaze as he thought back on his little brother and his worryingly paranoid attitude upon welcoming Amalia. And to think, not that long ago, that same dragon spent his time making flower crowns for the children alongside his sister…

He let out a resigned sigh; no point in dwelling in the past now. Not when the present already demanded their full attention. He set his own spoon down, having finished with his chowder. As Serviette, one of the kitchen staff, hurried to take his bowl away and set down the main course in front of him, he asked Yugo, “So if talking to either of them is futile, what do you suggest we do?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking you for help.” Yugo deadpanned. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll admit I walked right into that one.” He just raised his claws defensively, a fork and a knife in each one. Interestingly, that got a reaction out of Amalia, who arched a questioning eyebrow at them, causing the twins to smile sheepishly and insist it was nothing. With that crisis averted, the white-and-blue dragon sliced a piece of roasted Gobball leg and brought it to his mouth with his fork as he considered their options. 

“For better or worse, it’s obvious Amalia doesn’t feel like talking about whatever it is that’s bothering her.” He began. 

“I see your detective skills are as sharp as always, Brother.” Yugo commented drily, a sarcastic eyebrow raised. He could only roll his eyes when his twin flashed him an annoyed glare. 

“Hey, being the sarcastic, logical twin is my thing,” he protested, pointing an accusatory fork at his king. “You’re the earnest, emotionally-driven one, okay? Let’s not get any funny ideas…” 

Choosing to ignore the way his brother rolled his eyes yet again, Adamaï went back to trying to come up with a way to help Yugo and, by extension, Amalia. As he pondered on what to do, his attention was drawn to a falling leaf that had drifted into the room through an open window. Looking up, he squinted his eyes at the sight of the filtering sunrays leaking into the room, catching a glimpse of the passing clouds above them. 

In a way, this world’s skies were both as similar to their own as they were foreign. Not for the first time, Adamaï felt the inescapable yearning for adventure that always pulled him and Yugo away from home back in their world. Back then, they never thought twice about it—the moment adventure came calling for them, they answered her call. 

Now, however, the Emerald dragon couldn’t help but feel stifled and trapped as they were forced to remain still in one place lest they risked putting the natives on edge. And he knew for a fact his restlessness was nothing compared to Yugo’s. The only reason the guy didn’t declare himself a nomad was because he was their king and he loved his family and subjects too much to ever think of abandoning them for good. 

Not for the first time, Adamaï found himself genuinely impressed by Sadida’s talent for matchmaking. Even without knowing a single thing about the Eliatrope King, the daughter the Leafy God sent Yugo was perfect for him. Adamaï and Yugo used to believe no one could possibly love exploring more than the two of them, yet, lo and behold, Amalia was as passionate about the idea of leaving the palace and venturing into the unknown as they were. 

Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder how Amalia didn’t go completely insane from being all but locked up in Oma Island, seeing as she depended on Yugo to leave the palace premises and even when he was with her he didn’t dare step foot outside their island. Truth be told, Adamaï knew he wouldn’t have been able to stand it if had he been in her shoes—or…complete lack thereof, as a matter of fact, given how the doll preferred to go barefoot at all times—; he would have completely lost it hadn’t it been for the banquet at Oma and—.

He straightened in his seat as realisation hit him, his head turning to face his brother so fast he almost gave himself whiplash, and Yugo was staring at him with his eyebrows shooting up to the ceiling. A tentative grin forming on his face—before he reluctantly had to reassume his neutral expression due to Yugo warning him he was doing that thing where he looked downright creepy even if he tried to appear friendly—, he finally said, “Why not distract her?”

“What?” Yugo blinked, not following. 

“You want to help Amalia deal with whatever she’s going through, right?” When his twin nodded, he continued. “Well, it’s clear she doesn’t feel ready to open up about whatever’s bothering her, so why don’t you just take her mind off of it for a bit? Obsessing over it won’t help her either, might as well forget all about it for a while and have some fun.”

Yugo actually considered it for a moment, the ears of his hood twitching in interest. As always, Ad had a point. More often than not, when he had something on his mind or faced a problem that wasn’t easy to solve but he didn’t feel ready to share his burden with his twin and the rest of their siblings just yet, he usually tried to give himself some respite by taking his mind off of it. Which usually involved training until he was too exhausted to think, spending time with Amalia, or both. 

With that in mind, it was only natural Amalia would only feel worse the more she thought about whatever was on her mind, especially if she still didn’t feel like opening up. In that case, the best thing he could do for her really was to help her relax and forget about her issues, even if it was just for a little while. Maybe then she would finally feel comfortable enough to confide her insecurities in him. 

His mind made up just in time for Serviette to take his plate, too, he leaned closer to his dragon twin, “And what do you suggest I do?”

Adamaï’s smirk widened. Taking advantage of their mind link, he was free to tell Yugo even the things they were careful to keep to themselves even in the presence of their siblings. For his part, the more Yugo listened to his brother’s suggestion, the more his eyes widened, completely taken aback. That was honestly the last thing he expected Adamaï to come up with. 

His mind still reeling, he couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure?”

The dragon just shrugged. “If she doesn’t perk up at that, then nothing will get a reaction out of her.”

“No, but… Ad, I mean if you’re sure it’s a good idea.”

“I understand it can be a little risky, but might as well try, right? After all, you’ll be safer there, all things considered.”

Once again, his twin raised a very valid point. Technically, they should be safer there; there was a reason why the two of them ever went there in the first place, after all. But that didn’t mean he felt comfortable with the prospect of possibly endangering Amalia or his people’s already fragile acceptance amongst the Twelvians. 

As in reading his thoughts, and, all things considered, he probably had, Adamaï was quick to dissuade his brother’s worries by placing a claw on his shoulder and flashing him an encouraging grin. “Yugo, it’s okay. Seriously, the only place I can think of that she might be safer in is the Sadida Kingdom. But if you do encounter trouble, just remember I’ll be able to sense it and come to your rescue right away.” He finished with a cheeky wink. 

Despite everything, Yugo couldn’t help but smile, grateful for having the best brother in the Krosmoz. “Thanks, Ad.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go get ‘er, Tiger.”

Rolling his eyes playfully, the king had to stifle down a snort at Adamaï’s antics. He was usually so serious and composed, if he didn’t know him as well as he did, he might’ve been taken aback by the dragon’s many different sides. As it were, however, he was more than used to it. 

Brown eyes glancing over to the wilting flower staring off into space right next to him, Yugo set his mind back on the task at hand. When he called out to her and she actually seemed startled by the intensity in his voice, he had to force himself to dial it back down a bit, instead opting for a friendlier, more casual approach. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Her heart still beating a little faster than usual, Amalia quickly shook her head to snap out of her trance. “It… It’s okay, Yugo. I was just lost in thought…”

The king bit back a retort about how she seemed to be lost in thought a lot lately and plunged ahead towards his goal with unwavering determination. “Are you busy these days?”

The doll blinked, confused. “Ehrm… not really? I mean, I still have to tend to my garden, but ever since the kids started their training, I don’t have to go to Glip and Baltazar’s lessons, so I guess that leaves me with much more free time.”

“Great!” He beamed, and that alone was enough to send a flutter to Amalia’s heart, the sweet rhythm it now beat a stark contrast to the anxious tempo of the last few days. “Then are you free to go out with me?”

It was like hearing bells, those words alone awakening her from the restless slumber she had fallen under. As the almost forgotten thrill of anticipation danced through her fingertips and slowly made its way all over her body, the doll’s eyes twinkled. “Go out? You mean, like when you took me to the beach, or to see the village?”

The grin never leaving his face, Yugo nodded, a newfound sense of hope finding its way into his heart. It was incredible how Amalia’s entire demeanour changed at the prospect of adventure. Sometimes he still struggled to believe a girl like her, one that cherished the call to adventure about as much as he and Adamaï did, was even real. 

Amalia, who was already at the edge of her seat at the prospect of leaving the palace walls, which had become all the more stifling after her last encounter with Efrim, as each time she turned around a corner she feared she would stumble into him; suddenly felt her cheeks grow hot when Yugo leaned in close into her personal space, his hair brushing the side of her face. 

And yet, despite the way her heart was hammering in her chest at the close proximity, it still stopped when he whispered into the shell of her ear, “Only this time, we’ll be leaving Oma Island.”

.......................................................................................................................

With a pained groan and weak knees, Amalia stumbled forward and onto the ground on all fours, using her hands for support. She grimaced as the familiar dry heaving raked her body, though, thankfully, nothing came out. Yugo came to her aid, crouching down by her side and rubbing soothing circles on her back as she recovered. She could feel the bandages against her bare skin.

“What is it with you Eliatropes and completely ignoring my more than justified refusal to go through your portals?” She whined pitifully, the somersaults in her stomach gradually subsiding. 

“Hey, look at the bright side.” Yugo tried to console her with his never-ending optimism—most of the time, Amalia found that quality of his to be adorable and inspiring; now it was just plain annoying. “Before you know it, you’ll be able to go through portals no problem!”

“Nora said the exact same thing the other day and my answer still hasn’t changed.” The doll grumbled, making a face as she wiped drool off her face with the back of her hand. 

That got Yugo’s attention, or rather, the implications behind her words. 

“You’ve gone through one of Nora’s portals? When?”

Suddenly, the reason the Divine Doll’s mahogany complexion paled had nothing to do with her upset stomach. Silently cursing herself for her slip of the tongue, Amalia hastily tried to stand up as she shrugged the matter off, “O-oh! Y-you know, the other day. It was nothin—woah!” Unfortunately for her, she had stood up too fast while her body was still recovering, causing a dizzy spell to overtake her and send her tumbling down. 

At least, that was what Amalia was expecting. Instead, she collided against something firm and warm. Her brow furrowed in confusion, she blindly pawed at the solid surface she had stumbled into, her eyes widening when two strong arms snaked around her waist. Looking up, she was startled to find herself face-to-face with Yugo—literally—, who didn’t waste any time catching and pulling her close to him when it looked like she was about to fall down. 

A soft blush crept up on both of their cheeks as they stared deep into each other’s eyes, brown orbs meeting their counterpart and refusing to break the contact. They were so close their noses almost touched, and their warm breaths mingled. Ironically, the feeling of Yugo’s warm exhales tickling Amalia’s neck was enough to make her shiver. Neither noticed when they began to lean in close, their eyes slowly fluttering shut. 

Just as they were about to close the distance, however, the doll’s eyes snapped open in shock, embarrassment coursing through her veins as she abruptly remembered she had just been dry heaving and, even though she didn’t actually throw up, she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about her breath. But even as she awkwardly broke the embrace Yugo had her in and he sent her an equally sheepish grin at the same time as he rubbed the back of his head nervously, a small part of Amalia couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened hadn’t she pulled away at the last moment. 

Her thoughts swirling, she almost didn’t hear the Eliatrope King when he said, “A-anyway.” He cleared his throat. Was she imagining things, or did his voice sound a little strained right now? “S-sorry about that, Amalia. I know you really hate portals but, as you know, it’s the only way to make it to the village.”

She snapped to attention when the meaning of his words finally registered in her mind. 

“Oh!” She so eloquently exclaimed. She shrugged, pretending to be a lot more unaffected by the whole thing than she actually was. “W-well, it can’t be helped, I suppose. I’d just wish I didn’t have to go through an Eliatrope portal every other day.”

“Ah, but that’s no trouble at all!” Yugo exclaimed, earning himself an odd look from Amalia as the two of them fell into an easy march in the direction of the Eliatrope village. “We could always just get you a house at the village, that way you wouldn’t have to go through a portal to get there. See? Problem solved!”

In response, the doll just snorted at his antics, shaking her head while she waved the mere notion off with one hand. “Oh, no. No way. Forget it.”

“Why? It’s the perfect solution!”

“Because,” she sent him a pointed yet playful look, “I would still have to use portals to go to the palace. It’s literally the same problem but backwards!”

The king pretended to consider it, making a show of tapping a finger against his chin pensively as he looked upwards in thought. “I suppose you’re right.” He finally admitted with an exaggerated shrug, causing Amalia to try and stifle her giggles behind her hands. 

“Though, now that I think about it, it would also pose another problem.” He added, his tone never losing the levity befitting of the conversation. 

“Really now? And what do you suggest that is, Your Majesty?”

“Why, Lady Amalia! Isn’t it obvious?” He leaned closer into her personal space, never stopping his march, capturing her full attention as she looked up at him in wonder.

The impish glint in his brown eyes softened into something undeniably affectionate when she breathed out, “What is it?”

“I wouldn’t be able to see you every day. I would miss you terribly.”

Yugo surprised even himself with the sincerity of that statement, for he realised he meant each and every word he said. He had grown so accustomed to Amalia being a fixed feature in his life, that the mere idea of not seeing her every day filled him with dread and a strong sense of longing. In fact, while the doll stared back at him—her doe-like eyes glimmering and her round cheeks flushed with colour—, the unbearable urge to reach out and close the distance between them threatened to consume him. 

He was about to take her hands when Bartoloblé’s jovial voice broke them out of their stupor. Whatever fragile yet tangible moment between them was now lost. 

“King Yugo, Lady Amalia!” He greeted them, making his way over to them even as he carried a basket full of freshly baked bread under one arm. “It is always a pleasure to see you! But, what brings you here today? Another meeting with the other Council members?” 

He used his free hand to jab his thumb in the direction of the Eliatrope temple. Now that Amalia was paying attention, she finally realised they had reached their destination, they just needed to climb up the stairs leading to the main square. 

“Gotta warn you, though. Pretty sure the only members around are Mina and Phaeris, and they seemed to be locked into a pretty intense prayer last time I checked.”

Yugo raised a hand with a smile while the doll nodded by his side. “That’s perfectly fine, Bartoloblé. Thanks anyway. I was just about to show Amalia around, there’s this place I’ve been meaning to take her to.” 

The baker perked up, his own grin growing. “Oh, I see!” He rummaged through his basket before picking up a loaf of bread he extended to his king and their divine guest. “Would you like to take some for the road?” His expression deflated slightly when his leader just shook his head instead. 

“That’s quite alright, old friend. There’s plenty of food where we’re going.”

Although it took him a moment, the Eliatrope baker recovered fast, the smile back on his face. After putting the baked goods back in his basket, he tilted his chef hat in their direction before going his way. “Well, in that case, I’ll let you be. I still gotta deliver these,” he pointed at the basket, “to my customers. Until next time!”

As Bartoloblé climbed up the stairs and began his tour around town to deliver his customers’ orders, after waving him goodbye, Yugo and Amalia resumed their own walk. The Eliatrope King’s words replaying in her mind, her brow furrowed in interest, the Sadida Doll couldn’t help but ask, “Yugo?”

He hummed in response. 

“Where exactly are we going?”

He chuckled. “I told you, we’re leaving Oma Island for a bit.” 

“Yes, I know that. But I mean, where are we going if it’s not on Oma Island? Isn’t it dangerous to leave the island while the Twelvians still haven’t fully accepted you? And, most importantly, how are we even going to leave the island? As far as I’m concerned, we don’t have recall potions…”

Even as she spat her rapid-fire questions, the two of them never stopped walking, absentmindedly, though not any less kindly, greeting the villagers as they remarked on their king and the doll’s presence. As Yugo enthusiastically returned a kid’s wave, he glanced down at Amalia from the corner of his eye in amusement. Unable to contain himself, he chuckled, “You know, those are an awful lot of questions… I don’t think I’ll be able to remember them all.”

“Yugo!” Amalia chided, her hands on her hips and a ridiculously cute pout on her lips. “Come on, I’m serious!”

“I know, Amalia. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist.” He admitted, his palms up in surrender. “I’d really wish I could tell you where we’re going…”

“But…?” Amalia deadpanned, her arms crossed as she arched an expectant eyebrow at him. There was always a ‘but.’

“But I really want it to be a surprise.” He said at last, and his earnest response alongside the ridiculously cute sheepish smile he was giving her was enough to melt away her resolve to be more firm with him and not give in until she had her answers. 

As much as Amalia wanted to throw a hissy fit and demand the truth, she was powerless to stop the flutter in her chest at the king’s heartfelt attempts at doing something nice for her. She was always enveloped by this warm, wonderful feeling whenever Yugo showed how much he cared for her. 

She really couldn’t have asked for a better friend. 

Still, she couldn’t just let him see how genuinely touched she was by his thoughtfulness so, putting on her best haughty act, she harrumphed and made the enormous effort of looking away from him. “Can you at least tell me how we’re going to make it to this mysterious place of yours?”

Even without looking at him, she could sense his nonchalant shrug. “The way all Eliatropes go anywhere, I suppose.”

Immediately, her eyes snapped open in alarm. Her brown eyes blazing and an accusatory finger aimed straight at him, she whirled around so fast towards him, Yugo had no choice but to recoil in surprise. “Oh, Shukrute no! I already had to psych myself up to go through two of your portals today, I’m not going through any more!”

It was her turn to feel disarmed when he just smiled innocently back at her, despite finding himself, quite literally, in the face of her righteous fury. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, Amalia. I’m not making you go through another one of my portals today until it’s time to go home, I promise.”

She blinked back at him, her scowl softening into confusion. “Then… what do you mean when you say we’ll be travelling the way all Eliatropes do?”

Instead of answering, the dirty-blond boy just let an amused yet fond grin overtake his features, and used one hand enveloped in dark cloth to point upwards while the other took Amalia’s hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. Puzzlement still evident in her features, the doll chose to, once again, trust her friend, and limited herself to following the direction his finger was pointing at, even when it meant she had to crane her neck to get a better look. 

When her eyes settled on what Yugo had been pointing at and realisation washed all over her, the Divine Doll couldn’t help but gasp in surprise, her mouth agape. 

“The portals…” She murmured, her voice tinged with awe. 

That simple gesture had confirmed her suspicions from back when she first visited the village. Floating high above her were the oval-shaped, mirror-like artefacts she believed to be portals, and Yugo had just proven her right. Unlike an Eliatrope’s own portals, however, these didn’t seem to be made out of wakfu, something that would disappear if its wielder didn’t concentrate hard enough, but they appeared to be a fixed feature of the town. Even at a distance, Amalia could make out the different landscapes shown on the other side of them, beckoning their patrons to visit a whole new world. 

Even now, they seemed to be buzzing with activity, if the never-ending blue streaks zipping through one portal to the next was any indication. Still, even though that answered several of her questions, it posed many others. 

Luckily for her, Yugo seemed to have developed the uncanny ability to read her mind. So he wasted no time in providing an explanation to her unspoken questions. 

“Those,” he started, pointing at the gates above, “are our Zaap Portals. Chibi and Grougal actually came up with the idea long ago.”

“But… you’re Eliatropes.” Amalia pointed out, finally looking at him. Though her forest green eyebrows were still knitted in confusion. “Your most basic ability is creating portals. Why would you need them?”

“Everybody has limits, Amalia.” He told her gently. “After all, you can’t grow your plants if there’s no workable ground, right?”

The doll thought to herself she could grow plants out of stone if there was enough wakfu to channel, but Yugo had a point. If she didn’t detect life going on around her, then her attempts at using her magic would be futile. So she just nodded along. 

The king gestured back at the portals. “Well, this is our limit. The more powerful and experienced an Eliatrope is, the further their portals will take them. But there are distances that just can’t be covered. So, in order to save us the trouble of having to create long strings of portals to reach certain places, Chibi and Grougal found a way to replicate our magic and expand its range until it became some sort of teleporting gate.

“It’s our main use of transportation for travelling long-distance. Although it’s true certain characteristics in its design mean there are limitations.”

“Limitations?” Amalia tilted her head. “Like what?”

“You see, unlike our portals, which can take us wherever as long as it’s not too far away, Zaap Portals have… How do I say this?” He mumbled to himself, bringing his hand to cup his chin as he considered his words. He snapped his fingers as the perfect way to explain it came to mind. “Let’s just say it’s a bit like a trade-off.”

“A trade-off?” The doll couldn't help but feel she was only repeating what Yugo said. 

He nodded enthusiastically, the ears of his hat moving along with his head. “Precisely.”

“What do you trade?”

“In this case, in exchange for the portal being always functional, it loses its range. Sure, it can take us further away than our own magic, but the places it leads to are fewer.”

“So, you’re saying the Zaap Portal might be able to take you to Bonta, for example…” Amalia started, rubbing her temple as she tried to make sense of it all. 

“For example, yes.”

“But, it might lead you only to Bonta. Unlike your magic, which can take you practically anywhere as long as it’s not too far. Is that it? Did I get it right?”

“That is precisely it, Amalia.”

“So, how far exactly are we going, if we have to use the Zaap?” She asked, her head tilting up to stare up at the portal again. 

“Pretty far.”

The doll deadpanned, flashing her friend an unimpressed look. She was getting really tired of his whole enigmatic, mysterious schtick. Would it kill him to give her a straight answer? Sweet Sadida, he was a demigod! Being a bit more straight-forward couldn’t possibly hurt. 

Even though she already knew what he’d say, she still ventured, her arms crossed in annoyance. “Is that all you’re going to do all day? Give me clipped answers?” Groaning exasperatedly, she couldn’t deny the sudden urge to wring his pretty little neck when he said:

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Yugo!” She screeched, her face flushed from anger. With her hands balled at her hips, the Divine Doll had half a mind not to summon a small tendril to flick him on the forehead. Her pout deepened when all he did was laugh, loud and unrestrained, and place his hands on her shoulders to calm her down. 

Much to her chagrin, all her previous anger melted away the second he grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger and gently guided her face upwards to meet his gaze. The smile he flashed her was almost blinding. 

And here she thought the two things one should never look directly at were the sun and Sadida… Somebody should add the Eliatrope King’s smile to the list. Really, for safety purposes. 

“I’m sorry, Amalia.” He said, his voice a soft murmur that nonetheless resonated from his chest. The doll wondered idly if she would be able to feel the tremors through her fingertips if she were to place her hands on his chest. “I promise, I’ll answer all your questions once we’ve arrived. I just really want to surprise you.”

Later that day, the young Sadida would reminisce on her actions and wonder what in the world possessed her to utter the words that left her mouth:

“Well, we’ll never get to that if we don’t make it through the portal first, right?” Then, a rare moment of clarity allowed her to momentarily break away from the pair of eyes staring intently at her, and to focus back on their way of transportation long enough to ask, “How are we going to get there, though? Should I summon a vine to lift us up?”

Just as the words left her mouth, a small gasp followed, caused by the sudden warmth of Yugo snaking his arms around her waist once more and pulling her close, their bodies flush against each other. The king’s answer was barely above a whisper. “I think I have an idea.”

Before Amalia could so much as drunkenly question what he meant, she was startled by the unexpected breach in her connection to nature. Looking down in alarm, her brown orbs widened like saucers when she finally realised her feet were no longer touching the ground, and neither were Yugo’s, as a matter of fact. 

But even more surprising was watching the ground grow further and further away from them, the startling realisation that they were floating shocking Amalia to her core. She whirled her head to stare back at the king questioningly, her mouth agape, but he just shrugged and offered her a roguishly charming smile that caused warmth to erupt all over her face and chest. 

Not helped at all by the wink he sent her. 

“I might have a few tricks up my sleeve still, My Lady.”

“And I’m guessing one of them is flying?” She was genuinely surprised by her own coherence, given the circumstances. She had honestly forgotten he could do it. 

His charming smile turned the slightest bit smug. “Maybe.”

“But… how?”

“Ah, that…” Yugo’s expression faltered, looking unsure for the first time all day. “Well, a magician can’t go revealing his secrets just like that, can he?”

The doll’s mesmerised expression morphed into confusion, her eyes squinting in disbelief as if that would help her discern the meaning behind Yugo’s words. Judging by the way he reacted, there was something he wasn’t telling her, but what?

Before her mind could linger on the topic, though, the king distracted her when his expression lit up as he took notice of something. He took one of Amalia’s hands in his and held it tightly while the other remained on her waist, though not without pulling her closer to him—if that was even possible. 

“Ah, looks like we’ve arrived, Amalia. Are you ready?”

Just as he asked, Amalia turned her head to the direction he was looking at, and came to realise they were now floating with a portal right beside them. From what she could see reflected on its pristine surface, there was quite the lush forest on the other side. That immediately sent a pleasant thrill down her spine, the idea of being closer to nature bringing a certain twinkle to her eyes. 

She almost dreaded to ask, “...am I going to throw up again?”

“I thought you only dry-heaved now?” Yugo couldn’t help but tease her. His chuckles soon turned sheepish when the petite wild beauty in his arms glowered at him, clearly unamused. He coughed awkwardly. “Right. Sorry. Um… I can’t say for certain? I mean, we Eliatropes certainly don’t have any trouble but…”

“But you don’t have trouble going through your portals in the first place.” Amalia finished for him. She let out a heavy sigh, resigned. “Come on, let’s get this over with. There’s a whole new bunch of innocent bushes I have yet to traumatise by puking all over them.”

“I’ll be right there beside you to help you write the apology notes.” He whispered jokingly, and this time he did manage to make her laugh. 

Great Goddess above, her giggling was like hearing bells chiming in the wind. The things he wouldn’t do just to hear her laugh… If she noticed the way he held her closer to him even when it wasn’t necessary, she didn’t show. Instead, right as the Eliatrope warned her they were about to go through the portal, she closed her eyes shut in anticipation and hugged him tighter herself. Yugo’s eyes widened slightly and his heartbeat quickened considerably at the sensation of Amalia flush against him, their bodies moulding into each other seamlessly and her forest green ponytail tickling his nose. He had to force himself not to get carried away and inhale her natural scent—flowers in bloom and sunshine peeking through the forest treetops. 

And so, a shiver running down his spine as she squeezed him just a little tighter while she mentally prepared herself, Yugo took that last metaphorical step into the portal with Amalia in his arms.

......................................................................................................................

“Amalia, you can look now. We’re here.” Yugo’s soft murmur against the crown of her head broke her out of her trance. 

Eyes snapping open, she pulled away from his embrace and looked around. Sure enough, they were in the middle of a forest. The presence of aspens, birches and wild flowers emanated a completely different aura from the tropical plants back at Oma. She would have immediately begun to take it all in, to let nature wash over her and reveal its secrets to her, if it weren’t for the fact that she was far too busy being flabbergasted. 

“I… I don’t feel sick!” She exclaimed, incredulous, looking down at her hands with the same level of urgency as if they were covered in blood. Even more shocking was realising she was standing proud and tall instead of on wobbly feet or, even worse, tumbling down onto the ground to quite literally spill her guts. She wasn’t nauseous at all!

“Huh. It looks like you only have trouble going through one of our portals.” Yugo observed, intrigued. He placed one bandaged hand on his chin, pensively. “I wonder why that is…”

“Personally, I only really care about the fact that my food is still inside my stomach, thank you very much.” The doll quipped sarcastically.

Eyes darting all over the space, she finally allowed herself to plant her feet firmly on the ground and let her connection to nature do the talking. She smiled. The plant-life here seemed to be thriving and in perfect health. 

Once she had familiarised herself with the area and its vegetation, she asked, her back to Yugo. “So, what’s the plan? Where are we?”

No sooner had the words left her mouth, the grin was back on Yugo’s face. He took her by the hand and gently spun her around until she was facing the opposite direction, where she could discern what looked like a clearing from behind the Eliatrope’s figure. Raising herself to her tiptoes in curiosity, she peeked over his shoulder, her interest piqued by what appeared to be a small village located down the hill. 

“This,” the king spread his arms wide, letting go of hers, and gestured around them, “is the Forbidden Forest. And that,” he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of the village, “is our destination for today, Emelka.”

Rather than say anything, the Divine Doll just let her eyes dart around the space, and Yugo watched as she walked around, her hand outstretched as she traced gentle lines along the tree trunks while she walked. For a moment, the king just allowed himself to take her in. The curious tilt of her head as nearby tofus sang from their nests or even flew around. The way her fingers and toes curled and uncurled in pleasure at the feeling of the different kinds of soil and bark beneath her feet and fingertips. The breeze weaving through her silky hair, making her emerald locks blend in with the greenery of the forest. The supremely serene smile that stretched over her lips at the new sensations raking her body… It was simply breathtaking. 

She was breathtaking. 

Right as the Eliatrope came back to his senses and was about to self-combust over the direction his thoughts had taken, the doll called out to him, causing him to muster every ounce of power he possessed not to make the way he almost jumped out of his skin too obvious. 

“As much as I love being surrounded by nature,” she started tentatively but sincerely, sending her friend a knowing look. “I can’t help but feel uneasy over being in a place known as the ‘Forbidden Forest’.” She made sure to emphasise the words to get her point across. “Even the plants tell me to be careful, as there are dangers lurking around every corner…”

“Yeah, the locals say the wildlife here is unpredictable.” Yugo admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “But don’t worry, Amalia. We’re not going to stay here for long.”

“You said we’re going to Emelka, right?” When he nodded, she continued. “Then why not arrive there in the first place? Or is it a matter or range, as you told me earlier?”

“That does play a part in it, yes.” He began to march in the direction of the entrance to Emelka, Amalia right by his side every step of the way, her focus set intently on him. His eyes trailing upwards, he noticed the dark clouds hovering over them. It looked like it was going to rain. “But it’s also because it gives us some coverage and helps us go by unnoticed until we reach the village.”

The Sadida Doll frowned in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

He shrugged, but Amalia knew him well enough by now to be able to tell the action was forced, resigned. Not at all like the earnest optimism and nonchalance so characteristic of Yugo as long as his family and people’s safety wasn’t compromised. So she wasn’t surprised by what he said next, but that didn’t mean her heart didn’t break for him. “You know Twelvians aren’t exactly thrilled to have us around, Amalia.”

The way he said it, so casually, without even a hint of sadness or even anger in his voice, it was like he was just stating an undeniable fact of life. And, much to her chagrin, right now he was right. She wanted to comfort him so badly, to say the right words to get him to smile and face everything with the positive attitude that never failed to lift her spirits up when she was down. But she found herself drawing a blank. 

Still, she had to try. For Yugo. 

Yugo was startled out of his thoughts by a warm hand being placed on his shoulder. Looking up in surprise, he turned his face to find Amalia giving him a small, tentative smile, her brown eyes shining with empathy. Cursing himself for letting his own insecurities get to the better of him and making her sad, he rushed to plaster a smile on his face to put her at ease. 

“It’s okay, though. There’s a reason why we’re coming to Emelka in the first place.”

That reminded Amalia of something he said before. “Is that why you know what the locals have to say about the forest, because you have talked to them? Yugo, have you been to Emelka before?”

She gasped when he just hummed softly and nodded in response, “But—! When? How?!” She stammered, trying to wrap her head around the notion. “I thought you guys never left Oma Island!”

“We haven’t left Oma Island in a while.” The king corrected matter-of-factly, one finger raised in her direction. “When we just arrived here, we actually did quite a bit of exploring as we searched for the perfect place to settle down, especially Ad and I.” Then, he shrugged, this time, more genuinely. “And, let’s face it, even when we started settling on Oma, there’s no way Ad and I would be able to resist the urge to go out and explore.”

“Wait, so Adamaï has been to Emelka, too?”

“Uh-huh. And that’s also the reason why I’m telling you we need to keep a low profile. Emelka might be more accepting of us, but seeing the Eliatrope King and his dragon twin out and about was still a major shock even for them.”

“Is that why you’re dressed like that today?” Amalia finally found the courage to ask, staring up at her friend up and down. …and feeling her cheeks grow hot the more she lingered in certain places. 

As her eyes coursed over the king’s appearance, the doll’s mind briefly flashed back to her startled reaction when he came to pick her up earlier that day, and her cheeks coloured in embarrassment over her poorly concealed surprise. It wasn’t like Yugo looked bad—quite the contrary, really—, it was just that she was so used to seeing him in his battle suit and cloak ensemble that seeing him wear anything else was a tad jarring. 

After all, the last time Yugo changed clothes was when he dressed up for the banquet at Bonta. At least then there was a reason for his sudden change in wardrobe, even if seeing him looking so sharp and elegant wasn’t any good to her poor Ogrine heart. Even now, although his outfit was far less glamorous, it still caused her heart to do somersaults in her ribcage.

Indeed, instead of his usual attire, Yugo was wearing far simpler clothing. She briefly wondered if perhaps he had taken a page out of her book and come up with his own adventuring outfit. He wore a simple, sleeveless amber shirt that clung to his sculpted physique, highlighting every chiselled line of his torso and forcing Amalia to reluctantly tear her gaze away so as to not look like a creep. Contrasting the form-fitting shirt were a pair of dark cyan pantaloons, their overall shape much more loose and less restrictive in their movements than the shirt clinging to his skin. Covering his arms, going from his knuckles up to his shoulders, and bare feet were a series of black bandages that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Xelor’s wardrobe. 

At first, Amalia had been taken aback and confused by their presence, until Yugo chuckled fondly at her stunned reaction and leaned in slightly to whisper in her ear, “My tattoos.”

Her mouth formed an ‘o’ shape at the reminder, her mind going back to the many swirls going up and down his arms and how eye-catching they would be. Thinking back now that she knew Yugo wanted to keep a low profile, it made perfect sense he would cover them up. Mesmerising as they were—not helped by the way in which they accentuated the curves of his every muscle—, those things stood out like a sore thumb. Not even an Iop would buy that he was a Sacrier and those were his tattoos. 

Then again, one might think bandaging them up was overkill, seeing as his body remained perfectly concealed most of the time by the large poncho reaching past his knees that matched in colour with his pants. Completing the ensemble was Yugo’s own version of the cute hats that seemed to be customary amongst his people. Unlike his cloak, which only had those pointy ‘ears’, the hat was closer to being an amalgamation between Qilby and Glip’s. It wasn’t as long as the eldest Eliatrope’s, but it at least possessed a large tail ending in a tuft of whitish fur and the stumps on top of it looked more like ears, rather than horns. 

Despite the drastic change in wardrobe, most of the time Amalia couldn’t help but feel like it showed even less of the king than his full-bodied suit. At least now she got to see the back of his head, she supposed. 

His cheeks growing hot under the doll’s extensive scrutiny, Yugo looked to the side, nervously scratching his cheek with one finger. “Yeah, that’s right. I found wearing more casual clothing makes it easier to blend in.”

Before Amalia could so much as get a word in, she was taken by surprise when a sense of sudden realisation seemed to dawn over the Eliatrope. Just as she was about to ask about it, he held up a finger to her, asking her for patience, and slid his poncho open, revealing a sizable pocket sewn into the fabric. 

“Here, I thought it’d be better for you to slip into it.”

Amalia’s jaw dropped. Quickly looking up and down her entire length, she mumbled. “Thanks for the compliment, but I don’t think I fit in there.”

The Eliatrope looked at her strangely for a moment before the meaning behind her words seemed to click in, his mouth contorting into an ‘o’ shape. He shook his head with a chuckle. 

“No, no. Sorry. That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I was about to tell you.” He flashed her a pointed yet friendly look that made her roll her eyes. “I was actually thinking that you could shapeshift into your doll form and get inside the pocket. That way, we wouldn’t risk people seeing you and recognising you as the new Divine Doll.”

“But… Isn’t that a little unnecessary?” Amalia countered, tilting her head to the side. Then, she gestured to the length of her, and Yugo felt like smacking himself when his eyes lingered on her form just a little too long. “I mean, look at me! Unlike my sisters, I’m actually indistinguishable from a regular Sadida woman. Now that I think about it, wasn’t that the reason we met Master Joris at all? Because a bunch of Cra saw me and thought you had a Sadida with you?”

The dirty-blond man’s brow furrowed in confusion at the mention of her sisters, but he let it go with a shake of his head. Now wasn’t the time for that. “Well, that’s true. But people are going to grow suspicious if they see me with a Sadida, of all people. That’s why I think it’s better you hide, at least until we reach our destination.”

“But why? If we go together like this, they have no reason to think we’re anything but a Sadida and a non-believer.” The doll pressed on, incapable of making sense out of Yugo’s hesitance. “In fact, I’d say it’s much easier to tell you’re an Eliatrope with that hat on. If you just took it off—.”

As she talked, the Divine Doll reached out to push back the hat in question and take it off of Yugo’s head. Only for her outstretched hand to halt in mid-air when Yugo gripped at it tightly, his fingers sinking into her skin to the point she could feel his nails even through her wristbands. With a startled gasp, she looked at him in question, only for the brown of her irises to contract in fright at the sight of his own manic look. 

He looked frazzled and alarmed, his brow pinched in a fierce expression, to the point one would think Amalia had just attacked him instead of simply reaching out for his hat. The fire in his eyes was so intense, the doll couldn’t help the frightened shiver from running down her spine. Over the months, she believed she had become quite familiar with all the expressions the king was capable of pulling. The incredulous raised eyebrow and subsequent exasperated roll of his eyes at his siblings’ antics. The steely glint in his brown eyes whenever he was in the middle of his kingly duties or some kind of crisis arose. The subtle but friendly upwards curl of his lips whenever he interacted with his youngest subjects. The knowing looks he and Adamaï would exchange, belying their closeness. And the immensely fond look and incredibly soft smile he had plastered on his face whenever he interacted with her. 

That look was so intense, Amalia always found herself helpless against the warm feeling that would spread all over her body, starting from her chest and consuming her completely. Its warmth always spread like a wildfire, and she was nothing but kindling. 

The look he now had on his face was nothing like that. Where once was fire, now it was as if an ice cold shard had pierced her heart, freezing her to her core. 

His self-preservation instincts overtaking him, Yugo didn’t even register catching Amalia’s arm and gripping it tightly, his mind going on overdrive as it focused on just keeping her away from his hat. Despite the minimal exertion, he still found himself panting slightly, the reaction all but programmed into his brain. When he finally came to his senses, blinking a few times to regain his bearings, he was puzzled to find himself clutching a wrist tightly, only for horror and shame to settle in when his eyes travelled down the length of the arm and came face-to-face with Amalia. 

Those beautiful, doe-like orbs of hers held the same amount of fear and shock as a deer being haunted by a Cra. Pupils wide and frantic as it remained paralysed, subconsciously embracing its upcoming demise as it watched the arrow approach, sealing its fate. His heart throbbed as he realised he had caused that reaction. He was the one who put the fear in her eyes, even if he would never mean to. 

Guilt holding his heart in a vice grip, its thorns piercing through it, Yugo let go of her arm as fast as if it burned, muttering and tripping over himself as he tried to apologise. The painful pangs only resonated louder, like bells in a belltower, when all Amalia did in response was tentatively bring her forearm closer to her, placing it against her chest as her other hand soothingly caressed her sore wrist. The image reminded Yugo of Harebourg digging his digits so deep into her skin it bruised, and he immediately hated himself for repeating the Count’s mistakes. 

“It…It’s okay.” She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“Amalia…” Yugo called out to her, opening his mouth to say something, anything, but his words died in his throat when she glanced back at him with those big, sad eyes of hers. Inhaling sharply, he brought a hand to the back of his head to rub his neck in discomfort, trying to find the words. Eventually, he let out a heavy sigh.

“Amalia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me…” She tried to say, but it didn’t sound convincing even to her ears. She winced, biting down on her bottom lip. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“I know, and I am so, so sorry about that.” Yugo insisted, taking a step closer to her. He had to suppress a relieved sigh from escaping his lips when she didn’t flinch away from the action. “It’s just…” Much to his chagrin, his mouth clamped shut yet again; he had trouble finding the right words to explain things to her without having to explain too much. 

Amalia just waited for him to elaborate, cradling her arm to her chest, her interest piqued. She blinked down in surprise when, instead of answering, the Eliatrope just extended his own hand out to her, his palm facing upwards. She looked back at him, perplexed, but she finally understood everything when he simply beckoned her with his fingers. 

She placed her hand into his. Despite everything, just the gentle touch of Yugo softly caressing her wrist was enough for all the previous tension to melt away. 

She was so busy trying not to melt as well she almost didn’t hear him when he continued, “I really am sorry for startling and hurting you like that, Amalia. That was uncalled for.” He started, and just when the doll was about to say something in return, he stopped her by raising his free hand. “But, you see, even though you are right my hat doesn’t really do a good job at hiding the fact that I’m an Eliatrope, taking it off wouldn’t really help either.”

The Divine Doll took a step forward, closing the distance between them just a little more. “How come? You guys must look indistinguishable from your usual non-believer without them!”

The Eliatrope King tilted his head from one side to the other in a so-so motion, a small grimace on his lips. “Yes and no. Never mind that, though.” He looked her deep in the eye, making sure he had her full attention. “Amalia, the reason I reacted to you reaching out for my hat like I did is because my people have a very good reason for wearing them. Taking them off in front of somebody else is a sign of deep intimacy, so we don’t feel comfortable being hatless just about everywhere. 

“In fact, people we aren’t very close to reaching out for our hats without our consent is seen as very disrespectful in our culture. That’s why I reacted the way I did when you tried to do the same. But you’re not an Eliatrope, and it isn’t like this is common knowledge in the World of Twelve, either. You couldn’t have possibly known. So, again, I’m sorry for reacting the way I have.”

Trying her best to ignore the painful pang in her chest at the implication that she wasn’t as close to Yugo as she had originally thought, the doll forced a small smile to curl at her lips. “No, Yugo; it’s me who should be apologising. Even if I didn’t know about the significance behind it, it was still rude of me to get so close into your personal space and try to push your hat back without asking you first. So, for all it’s worth, I’m sorry, too.”

The king grinned down at her, his heart swelling. “Apology accepted.” He took both of her hands in his and brought them closer to him. “Speaking of asking first… What do you say? Would you be okay with turning into your doll form and staying in my pocket?”

Amalia still looked unsure. “You said it’d only be until we reach our destination, right?”

“That’s right.” He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s not even that long a trek. A thirty minute walk tops.”

Despite her reservations, Amalia eventually gave in with a sigh. She’d be lying if she said her decision wasn’t at all influenced by Yugo’s irresistible Bow Wow eyes. Then again, she supposed it could be worse; even though she hadn’t really been in her doll form for long periods of time since arriving at the World of Twelve, it still felt as natural to her as her current, human form. And so, with a nod and a small smile directed at the Eliatrope, she disappeared behind the familiar puff of smoke. 

Yugo waited patiently for the smoke to clear, and when it finally did he couldn’t wipe the happy grin off his face at the sight of the small brown ragdoll at his feet looking expectantly up at him. He couldn’t believe there was a time he had ever been underwhelmed by the sight; Amalia was just so precious, with her big brown eyes, plump little green lips, and the tussled tuft of emerald hair on her head. The more he stared at her, the more he felt a tingle going down his spine. 

“Can you at least open your poncho a little so I can get a glimpse of the scenery as we make our way through the village?” Amalia pleaded, and if Yugo already had a hard time denying her anything, now that she was literally an adorable little doll it was practically impossible. 

“Of course.” His hands cupped in front of him, he bent down to scoop Amalia up and bring her to his eye-level as he stood back up. “What’s the point in exploring if you don’t get to see anything, am I right?” He winked at her, and he counted the way she giggled at the action and admittedly lame joke as a win. 

“Now you’re getting it.” She teased right back. 

Sharing one last laugh, Yugo carefully cradled Amalia’s tiny form with one hand while he used the other to open his poncho just enough to be able to put her in his pocket. Once she was close enough, Amalia gathered up her momentum and threw herself headfirst into the pocket, rolling around inside the folded fabric until she managed to straighten herself up enough to remain upright. As she burrowed herself deeper into the pocket, which was far cosier than she had anticipated, she busied herself with her bottom lip, mulling over whether she should ask Yugo the question in her mind or not. 

Eventually, seeing as he didn’t just have the guts to ask her to get inside his pocket but actually got away with it, she decided to just go for it. Right after assuring him she was perfectly comfortable where she was, she looked up to him, her eyes glimmering hopefully. 

“Yugo?”

“Yes, Amalia?”

“Do… Do you think you could show me what’s underneath your hat? You know, one day. When you feel comfortable with it, of course…”

Her heart, which had been beating frantically out of nervousness over possibly overstepping his boundaries again, began to thud for a completely different reason when his bewildered expression melted into one of his blinding smiles. The softness she associated with their interactions returning to his features. 

“I will, Amalia. I promise.”

..........................................................................................................................

From what she could see from inside Yugo’s poncho, Emelka seemed to be a lovely place. Unlike the bustling city of Bonta, with massive buildings and endless streets stretching over the vast space until its very outskirts, the air was calm in Emelka. The streets were wide, to the point she wondered if the small town wasn’t just composed of several buildings sprawled all over the place and the resulting paths gave the illusion of there being streets. Said buildings, while far from being rundown shacks, were quite modest still; simple stone two-story houses protected by a thick layer of hay on their roofs.

The locals were unhurried and placid. Basket-carrying ladies, presumably returning from the market, stopped by their neighbours’ windowsill to partake in some healthy gossip, giggling all the while. Children ran around as they played pretend, picturing themselves as brave little adventurers off on some grand, perilous journey. Merchants, artisans, and business-owners alike welcomed potential customers into their establishments with jovial smiles, loudly announcing their offers. 

The more she looked around, the more Amalia understood why Yugo liked this place so much. Although it was true they hadn’t really visited many other nations aside from Oma Island and Bonta, the streets of Emelka were far more similar to the Eliatrope village than the hectic Divine City. Just some normal people going about their day as per usual, without worrying about the intricacies of international diplomacy. 

From time to time, she also got a glimpse of how people reacted to the Eliatrope King’s presence. While it was true most of them ignored him for the most part and went on with their days, others did a terrible job at subtly glaring or regarding him with a suspicious glint in their eyes. That was, if they were trying to be subtle at all. For his part, the king remained the epitome of courtesy and cordiality, kindly greeting everyone that so much as crossed his path or locked eyes with him, however brief the exchange was. 

Whenever Amalia noticed a particularly intense stare directed at her friend, she couldn’t help but burrow herself deeper into his pocket, hiding herself from view even though her position already meant she was well concealed. She kept wondering if Yugo really held his traditions so close to his heart he couldn’t see the benefits of taking his hat off. 

Right as her mind began to trail down that particular train of thought, the doll caught herself and shook her head vehemently to rid herself of it. What was she thinking? Even if she didn’t share the Eliatropes’ beliefs or didn’t always understand them, she owed them that she at least respected them. After all, they had always been very understanding and accommodating of her Sadida nature, her room and garden alone were proof enough of that. 

If Yugo said taking his hat off was a big deal, then it was a big deal. 

Now that she thought about it, Yugo didn’t outright deny nor confirm whether his people actually looked indiscernible from Twelvian non-believers. Maybe there was a reason why they didn’t take their hats and hoods off, after all…

“We’re almost here, Amalia.” Yugo’s whisper broke her out of her stupor, making her shake her head to regain her focus. 

Just as Yugo subtly opened his cloak just enough to allow her to get a better view of their destination, the Divine Doll whirled around in his pocket to discreetly glance over at the place he had been so intent on taking her to. Her eyes widening at the sight. 

They were headed straight towards a particularly large white-stone building, with sturdy wooden brackets supporting the blue-tiled roof. It had nothing on the Eliatrope palace or even Sadida’s hut back in his dimension, but it was definitely bigger than most other houses in Emelka. While it was two-stories high as well, this particular building stood out in many other ways. For example, rather than follow the standard design that seemed prevalent in the area, it had several smaller warehouses attached to the main building, though what really caught her eye was the three-story tower on the far right side of it. Even more bewildering was the large bamboo milk jar affixed to the tower; which was just as well, the doll supposed—at least, now she knew they were headed to an eatery of some kind. Right beside the entrance were some stairs leading to what she could only assume was some kind of balcony, although judging by the lack of customers there, she had the feeling that it was a space reserved for the owner and their family. A suspicion that was only strengthened by the presence of a bent tree on the left from where the laundry was hung, swaying in the breeze. 

“So this is where you wanted to take me?” Amalia whispered back at Yugo, failing to see what could be so special about this place. 

“That’s right. Welcome to the Crispy Gobball Inn, Amalia. Where they serve the best Gobball stew in all of Emelka.” 

“But why did you want to bring me here? Just to eat?” 

Yugo chuckled, amused. “You’ll see.”

Before the doll could question him further, the Eliatrope had made it to the door. He reached out for the handle and let themselves in. Yugo had hidden Amalia from view once more, so she couldn’t really make out how the place looked on the inside, but she could still hear everything going on around her even through the thick fabric. From the sound of things, the inn’s patrons were a rowdy bunch. Animated conversations, loud cackles, and the clinking of utensils as they moved around their plates filled the room. 

And then, something strange happened. 

Amalia couldn’t see and, therefore, didn’t understand what was going on, but little by little, everyone quieted down, and the absence of the sound of metal against china indicated they had stopped eating, too. If she were being honest with herself, it was a little unnerving. And even that was nothing compared to the worry she felt when she sensed Yugo tensing up next to her, his muscles clenching in discomfort, even though she had a feeling he was doing his best to maintain an unaffected expression. 

And then it dawned on her. 

The atmosphere had changed because of him. Regardless of what Yugo said, the people in Emelka were just as wary of the Eliatropes as the rest of the Twelvians. Then, why did he insist they’d be much safer here?

The Divine Doll was broken out of her reverie by the feeling of Yugo relaxing, his chest going up and down in clear relief as the breath he had been holding brushed past his lips. She furrowed her brow, wondering just what in the World of Twelve could have provoked such a drastic change in him, when she perked up at the sound of a deep, caring voice resonating around the room:

“By Enutrof! What’s got y’all so quiet all of a sudden? Just a moment ago, I couldn’t even hear myself think!”

Then, the Enutrof man—because that voice definitely belonged to a man and only an Enutrof would swear by the Flamboyant Golden Dragon’s name—, grew silent as well. Amalia still couldn't see what was happening, but it didn’t take her long to realise he must have definitely noticed Yugo because the Eliatrope warmly greeted him, “Hello, Alibert. Is it a bad time?”

Amalia didn’t have time to register what was happening or even question it, for she suddenly found herself squeezed against Yugo’s chest, flush against his form. And though she certainly wouldn’t mind under different circumstances, she had to admit with a blush, she found it was hard to enjoy the closeness when she was being crushed to death, unable to breathe properly. She pawed desperately at the king’s pectorals, begging him to do something. 

“‘Is it a bad time’, you say.” Alibert repeated rhetorically, engulfing Yugo into a tight embrace, blissfully unaware of the pain he was unwittingly inflicting upon the rag doll in his pocket. “You know it’s never a bad time for one of your visits, my boy! If anything, I’d say it’s been too long since you last showed your face around here!”

“Sorry… about that. I’ve been… kinda busy…lately.” Yugo wheezed out, his voice strained. It still amazed him just how strong old Alibert could be, especially considering that, by his own admission, he wasn’t the most devout Enutrof around, so his magic wasn’t as powerful. Seriously, Yugo was quite the seasoned warrior and yet his spine didn’t just threaten to snap in half under the pressure inflicted by the kindly chef’s arms, but his feet weren’t even touching the floor! 

Just then, he felt the rustling of rough fabric against his shirt and a small jolt coursed through his body.

Amalia.

Not without some effort, the Eliatrope released one of his arms from Alibert’s hold and, always careful not to reveal the doll’s location within his poncho, lightly tapped the man on the shoulder to get his attention. Once his eyes were on him, he said:

“Alibert… Please…” He managed with some difficulty. “Put me… down. I’m carrying… some precious cargo… with me… today.”

Despite the confused, bushy eyebrow he raised the boy’s way at his words, Alibert obliged him. Loosening his hold on Yugo, he set him firmly on the floor and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry about that, my boy. I got carried away in my excitement, that’s all.” Sending a sideways glance towards the other Enutrof sitting at the bar and pointedly pretending he hadn't just been eavesdropping on their conversation, he lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “So, what’s this ‘precious cargo’ you were talking about?”

Yugo just shook his head, mouthing a silent ‘Let’s talk in private’ at him. 

Eyes lighting up in understanding, Alibert nodded and silently gestured for him to follow him. But not before addressing the rest of his customers, all of them watching the reunion unfold right in front of them. “Well, what are y’all waiting for, an invitation? Go on, eat! I worked too hard on that for you to just let it go cold!”

Immediately after he said that, it was as if nothing at all had happened. Everyone gathered turned back to their own lunch and conversations, and soon, the hustle and bustle so typical of restaurants began to fill up the room once more. 

His hands on his hips, Alibert rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the scene. “Seriously. Sometimes it feels like no one respects good food anymore…” Then he locked eyes with Yugo and gestured with his head towards a room a little further down the hall, past the kitchen. Right as they walked past the kitchen door, he called out, “Toto, Matou, Tomato! You’re in charge of waiting tables and manning the stove while I’m gone! Remember there’s a pot of stew on the stove, it should be done in about five minutes!”

Alibert and Yugo didn’t stop their march even as three voices echoed after their boss, “On it, chef!”

As soon as they made it to the door, Alibert opened it for the Eliatrope and gestured for him to get inside, following close after him and closing the door behind him. “Sorry it’s probably not as fancy as your own office in your palace, but when one is a humble innkeeper, you gotta make do with what you have.” He said jokingly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Yugo peruse the room. 

“Trust me, Alibert. Now matter how beautifully furnished my office might be, it’s still the last place I want to be at the end of the day.” Although it was true he actually did most of his paperwork in his room, not to mention the throne and Council rooms. 

Indeed, despite its lack of splendour, the Eliatrope King found himself smiling at the simple yet welcoming atmosphere of Alibert’s office. It really wasn’t much, just a middle-sized closet refurbished into a pantry, with the different ingredients the chef used in his dishes overflowing the shelves lining the walls and a simple desk loitered by a stack of papers and similar materials and a chair tucked against the far end of the room. 

Still, the sight brought a smile to his lips. It fitted Alibert so well. 

“Well, boy, what is it?” Alibert urged him gently, though a hint of impatience belied his genuine curiosity. “What’s got you all so secretive and tightlipped?”

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow, confused, when, without so much as turning to face him, Yugo seemingly opened his poncho to talk to the collar of his shirt in hushed tones. Even though he knew better than to voice his thoughts, Alibert was beginning to seriously consider whether the stress from his royal duties wasn’t messing with his mind and he came all the way to Emelka just to unwind. 

It honestly wouldn’t be the first time. 

Just then, the Eliatrope seemed to have reached an understanding with his garments, for he turned back around and rummaged inside his clothes as he answered the Enutrof’s previous question, right as he presented him with the most befuddling sight Alibert had ever seen in his life. 

“This.” He said, gesturing between the innkeeper and what he held in his hand, which he brought closer to the Enutrof to inspect. “Alibert, this is Amalia. Amalia, this is Alibert.” 

Good old Alibert truly had no idea what he was supposed to be looking at, and he had a very good feeling that his astonishment was reflected on his face, given the way he was gaping like a fish. ‘Amalia’, as Yugo called…her, he supposed, was nothing but a rag doll made out of dark brown fabric, with objectively simplistic features—just a sewn mouth, a pair of brown eyes, and a dishevelled tuft of green hair on top of her head. If he were being honest with himself, it was the kind of thing he would expect from a Sadida, and he couldn’t help but think it didn’t belong with someone like the Eliatrope King at all—.

Alibert’s train of thought was abruptly halted when Amalia blinked at him, tilting her head in curiosity, and smiled. Okay, so she was pretty cute. And that in itself wasn’t all that strange, as Sadida dolls, while not alive, were animated by nature. Still, it didn’t explain what Yugo was doing, carrying her around. He seemed to remember hearing some passing Bontarians gossiping about how the Eliatrope King had been blessed by the gods themselves with a Sadida Doll, but if this was what they were talking about, the source of all that commotion preceding that banquet at Bonta he had heard so much about, he had to admit it was a little underwhelming. 

Just when he was mulling over how to mask his disappointment without coming off as too obvious or, Enutrof forgive, rude, his thoughts were interrupted by a gust of wind picking up in his office, causing his hat, moustache, and clothes to flutter in the breeze. How was that possible? His office only had one small, round window and he left it closed right before he started preparing his first batch of food for the day! If that wasn’t strange enough, completely out of nowhere, a torrent of pink flower petals began to swirl around the room, the veritable whirlwind of blossoms seemingly concentrating around the doll’s small form. 

He chanced a glance the Eliatrope’s way, silently asking if this was all his doing, only for his eyes to widen in shock. Somehow, despite the sheer insanity going on around them, the craziest thing by far had to be how calm and relaxed Yugo seemed over the whole thing, almost as if he had seen it countless times before. 

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, the wind finally died down, the swirling petals slowly falling down the floor. As he followed the king’s gaze towards Amalia, a part of Alibert understood the Eliatrope’s serenity was most likely a result of having dealt with it before. 

The other part of Alibert was too busy gawking at what had just happened. 

There, standing in the middle of the room at probably a good head taller than he was, her posture perfectly straight while she held her hands in front of her—her fidgety fingers betraying her nervousness—, was a lovely Sadida young lady. Clad in a simple yet elegant beige pants and white, sleeveless top ensemble, with white wristbands and orange, leafy anklets that matched the large leaf sewn into her midsection. Her silky emerald hair, tied up in a high ponytail, perfectly framed her delicate face, making the small smile on her lips all the sweeter. 

However, Alibert wasn’t the only one intently staring at the person in front of him. For her part, Amalia’s scrutiny was just as intense, if slightly subtler by virtue of her not gaping at the chef as openly as he was her. 

The first thing that came to mind when the doll finally laid eyes on the man was that she could hardly believe he was supposed to be an Enutrof. Seriously, if it weren’t because she distinctly heard him swear by The Miser’s name, she would have assumed he was an Eliatrope who had somehow managed to make a living way outside of Oma’s confines. Either that, or he was just a non-believer which, frankly, was far more likely. 

While she had to admit her experience with Enutrof’s followers was limited to the Lord of the Spoils himself and the Enutrof King and his entourage, Alibert looked nothing like them. Which was a feat in itself, since Enutrof looked like a dragon made out of treasure chests and his worshippers were shovel-carrying old people. But there was absolutely nothing about Alibert that brought an Enutrof to mind. Rather than looking like a withered and wrinkled old man, Alibert could easily pass off as someone in his forties, early fifties at most. From his strong build, top-heavy posture that remained perfectly straight rather than hunched over, his blemish-free skin, and the bushy, brunette moustache framing his upper lip—the latter being a stark contrast to the shock white hair all Enutrofs sported—there was simply nothing that resembled Enutrofs as she knew them in the man in front of her.

While his general physique was misleading enough, it wasn’t the only reason why Amalia had a hard time believing he wasn’t actually an Eliatrope. Besides the brunette mane that was so prevalent amongst Yugo’s people, what really caught the doll’s eye was the giant chef hat on his head, which didn’t really look all that different from your regular Eliatrope hat. As its endtail reached down his back, it matched Yugo’s almost perfectly! All it was missing were a pair of ears. 

Still, she chose to keep her thoughts to herself for the time being. There’d be plenty of chances to ask about his peculiar appearance once they’d moved past the formalities. And so, her mind made up and her polite grin widening just a little, Amalia spoke, her voice clear like a stream in spring. “Good morning, Mister Alibert.” Much like she had done when she had first met Yugo and Master Joris, she leaned her body forward 90º as a sign of respect. “As Yugo said, my name is Amalia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

As Yugo watched the exchange with a fond smile, silently begging Alibert to forgive him for not warning him of his intentions sooner and for the near heart attack he must have surely inflicted upon him, he couldn’t help the pleased tingle that ran down his body as he finally got to introduce the two Twelvians he cared most for. He had no doubt that once his initial surprise had worn off, Alibert would welcome Amalia with open arms and treat her with the same amount of fatherly affection and kindness as if she was his own daughter. 

He had once bestowed the same treatment on him, regardless of his otherworldly origins, after all. 

So imagine his surprise when, instead, good, old Alibert—always so jovial, so level-headed, so composed—, just jerked back in utter astonishment and pointed a trembling finger towards Amalia as he blurted out, “You’re a Divine Doll!”

…on second thought, maybe he should have warned Alibert of his intentions in advance. Yugo knew, probably better than anyone, that meeting a Divine Doll for the first time wasn’t quite the same as bringing a Wow Bow puppy home. He was also starting to wonder if perhaps Amalia wasn’t on to something when she said she could always just pretend to be a regular Sadida. Even if he didn’t doubt his accompanying her would have blown her cover, at least they would have saved poor Alibert the shock of a lifetime. 

Honestly, between Yugo’s first introducing himself to the man and now this, he was beginning to seriously consider paying for the poor man’s medical bill. As soon as his people got a hang on their currency, of course. He was at least responsible for his blood pressure rising for sure. 

And now Amalia was looking back at him, concern evident in her brown eyes even as she tried to keep a polite smile on her face, clearly as perplexed by the Enutrof’s reaction as the latter was by her presence. 

It was at that moment that the king chose to intervene. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward and between Alibert and Amalia. “That’s right, Alibert.” He told the innkeeper gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. Then, much like when Amalia was still in her doll form, he gestured to her. “Amalia here is Sadida’s eleventh Divine Doll. She’s been living with us for a while, and I figured it was about time I took her out for lunch to my favourite place in the entirety of the World of Twelve.”

The green-haired beauty, ever polite, extended her hand towards Alibert, her smile intact. “Pleasure to meet you, Alibert.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my Lady…” Alibert managed to mutter, practically on autopilot. His eyes scanning all over the Sadida demigoddess, his voice still conveyed an unmistakable sense of awe in spite of his low tone as he breathed out, “So the rumours are true, my boy. The gods did indeed entrust you with a Sadida Doll. Even after…” He trailed off, the meaning behind his unfinished words causing Yugo to furrow his brow as the ears on his hat flattened against his head. Then, he chuckled, slowly going back to his old self. “Somehow, this makes much more sense than them just gifting you a regular doll!”

Yugo snorted, his thoughts temporarily diverted from Alibert’s enigmatic words, imagining himself walking around with a doll on his shoulder. Although, looking back, it wasn’t that much different than what he had asked of Amalia earlier. As her giggles reached his ears and his gaze settled on her, the king’s eyes softened, an affectionate grin tugging at his lips. 

“Yeah, the gods sent her to us as a sign of goodwill.” He started, the sound of his voice drawing the doll’s attention back at him. She glanced up at him as if taken hostage by the sound of his voice. A shiver ran down his spine under the intensity of her gaze. “I can’t even begin to tell you just how much Amalia has been helping us since she arrived. She truly is a blessing.”

Yugo watched in satisfaction as a lovely blush spread all over her cheeks, the blood underneath highlighting her mahogany skin with their apple-like colour. For a moment, for just a moment, when the magnetic pull between them was at its strongest, his gaze flitted down to her parted lips, so inviting, so tempting, so close…

And then they broke away, fast as lightning, and his own face burned with the intensity of a thousand suns when Alibert spoke up, “Well, if that’s the case, then I sincerely thank you for coming to visit my humble abode, my Lady. Hopefully, this old chef’s dishes won’t be too disappointing compared to the high cuisine you must have enjoyed at the palace!”

Amalia, who had been too preoccupied looking everywhere but at Yugo and shyly tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, perked up when she realised Alibert was talking to her. Regaining her composure, if only a little, she hummed in affirmation. “Oh, yes. I’m sure it will be delightful, Alibert. After all, there has got to be a reason why Yugo likes this place so much, right?”

“A part of me is beginning to suspect he just likes to get out of the palace every once in a while…” chuckled Alibert, his arms crossed over his chest as he flashed the Eliatrope King a coy smirk. His smile widened when, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed Amalia sending Yugo a knowing look of her own. 

The ears of his hat lowering in ill-concealed embarrassment, there was nothing Yugo could do but shrink under their gazes. Although he would never admit it, he knew he was busted. 

Luckily for him, the Enutrof was gracious enough to put an early end to his suffering, for he let out a boisterous laugh before patting him energetically on the back, the action almost sending him tumbling forwards. 

“Alright, alright. Enough with the chit-chat. There’ll be plenty of that once I’ve served a plate of food right in front of you two.” Alibert said, beckoning the two of them to follow him out of the pantry-remodelled-office and towards the main dining room. 

Now that Amalia was out of Yugo’s pocket, she was free to scan every nook and cranny of the restaurant. She couldn’t help the warm grin that formed on her lips when she realised the Crispy Gobball Inn (as Yugo had called it before) was a lot more welcoming than the name suggested. Judging from the high, wooden ceilings, the simple decor adorning the walls, and the conversing patrons, the restaurant was indeed a simple eatery where people could leave their worries behind and enjoy some comforting, freshly-cooked lunch. The myriad of aromas invading her senses was enough to make Amalia’s mouth water. She had to embarrassedly place a hand against her belly and sheepishly laugh behind her palm when her stomach let out a loud growl, pointedly reminding her that she had yet to eat. 

Her cheeks coloured again for a very different reason when Yugo leaned in closer to her to whisper, “You’ll just love Alibert’s cooking. Definitely some of the best I’ve ever had, I promise.”

Not trusting her voice to speak, the doll simply let him know she had heard him with a meek nod. 

Finally, Alibert offered them to sit down on two stools placed right in front of the counter, which at the same time had first row seats to the kitchen and all the activity going on in it. Amalia watched with curious eyes as three young men were running themselves ragged as they juggled chopping and slicing different ingredients and dumping them into pans, manning the stove, and carrying the finalised dishes and drinks to their respective customers. She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, nor on the fact that Yugo had brought her closer to himself when one of the boys—the one acting as waiter—took a good look at her and let out a loud Boowolf whistle. Instead, her attention was immediately drawn to Alibert unceremoniously shoving one of his clients off his chair and directly onto the floor. 

She had to do a double take when she turned to Yugo for an explanation and he remained perfectly unaffected by the whole thing. Moreover, while his lips were curled upwards in amusement, his eyes reflected a certain sense of boredom, as if Alibert shoving old people off their chairs was just another Tuesday for him. What the actual—?

Her head snapped back around and her eyes widened further in shock when the man, despite his old and fragile appearance, sprung back up with the agility of a Rogue on the run, and shook his fist angrily in the air, “Sweet Miser above, Alibert! Is that how you treat your customers?!”

Alibert just blinked, unimpressed. “Goodness, no. You know I’d never dream of treating my customers like that, Ruel.”

“Oh, so I suppose I’m the exception just because we happen to be old friends, huh?!” The man, Ruel, demanded to know. 

The only change in the chef’s expression was the arching of a bored eyebrow. “Nope.” He said, popping the ‘p’. Suddenly, his features sharpened into a scowl, and Ruel audibly gulped. “I get to treat you like that because, as far as I’m concerned, you’re no customer of mine.”

Letting out a scandalised gasp, Ruel brought a hand to his chest. “How could you?! After all we’ve been through, you dare say I’m not one of your customers even though I have faithfully come here at least once a week ever since you opened the restaurant more than twenty years ago?”

“And you have yet to pay for a single meal!” Alibert exclaimed, throwing his arms out in exasperation at his old friend’s antics. “By this point your tab must be bigger than the rivalry between Bonta and Brakmar!”

In response, all the old man did was hold his head high with a sniff as he crossed his arms. “Just so you know, it’s very impolite to ask your friends for money. I expected more from you, Alibert.”

“It’s even more impolite to never give it back!”

And that was all Amalia needed to know this Ruel fellow was an Enutrof, and one that ticked all the boxes, for that matter. Between his scrawny figure; hairless head except for a small ponytail that contrasted greatly with his bushy, silver beard; his worn-out clothes that had definitely seen better days; and, last but not least, his stinginess, for all she knew he could very well be Enutrof’s son himself. 

As the two men bickered back and forth like an old married couple—with Alibert taking on the role of the long-suffering wife—, Amalia turned back to gaze up at Yugo, befuddled by his nonchalance. 

Yugo managed to stifle his snort with varied degrees of success when he noticed the absolutely flabbergasted expression on Amalia’s face. Somehow her jaw only dropped further down when all he could offer in response was a helpless shrug and a brief explanation, “This happens all the time, don’t worry. I’m starting to believe this is how they bond.”

Blinking rapidly at his answer, her mind still struggling to catch up with the insanity that was her reality in that very moment, she focused back on the conversation between the two very differently-looking Enutrofs. 

“Quit your yapping, Ruel. You were about done, anyway.” Alibert said as he wiped the counter with a wet rag. Immediately after, he dried it off with another, dry rag, and capped it all off by masterfully placing two goblets on top of the counter and pouring some water into them. “Besides, we got company.”

Ruel raised an eyebrow when his old friend gestured to the side with his head, only for his eyes to widen at the sight of that Yugo lad cheerfully waving at him, while the loveliest Sadida he had ever seen in all his years timidly mimicked the action by his side. 

“Hey, Alibert. It’s been a while.” The Eliatrope greeted him warmly. He gestured at the green-haired beauty next to him. “I’d like you to meet Amalia. She’s a very special friend of mine.”

The girl, Amalia, greeted him with a polite nod, tentatively extending the hand that wasn’t currently clenched before her chest towards him. “Um, pleasure to meet you.”

Putting on his most charming act, he took Amalia’s hands in his and offered her a golden-toothed smirk. “The pleasure is all mine, my dear.” He turned to address Yugo. “Atta boy! Not only did you finally find yourself a girlfriend, but she’s a real beauty too!”

No sooner had the light-hearted joke left his mouth did the two of them turn bright red. They made sure to keep a respectable distance between each other as they stammered their way out of explaining to Ruel there was absolutely nothing going on between them. 

After a few minutes of that, Alibert took pity on them and, with a good-natured sigh, set out to give them an out. “Amalia, don’t humour him. Trust me, you’ll end up regretting it. I humoured him once, years ago, and I haven’t been able to get rid of him since!”

“Why, you ungrateful old gargoyle, you…!”

“Look who’s talking.” The chef flashed his old friend a wry smile. 

Had he noticed the charged atmosphere between those two lovebirds back in his office, when they stared deep into each other’s eyes, seemingly aiming for a kiss, and time seemed to still? But, of course! He was gaining in years, but he still had a long way to go before he lost his eyesight completely. Was he going to say anything about it and poke fun at them when it was a topic they clearly weren’t ready for yet?

…okay, maybe a little. But unlike Ruel, he at least knew when to stop! Seriously, he was doing them a favour. True to his nature, when the old miser found something juicy, like an Enutrof with a shiny kama, he didn’t let the matter go easily. He would have heckled them about it until Yugo swore off ever stepping foot in his inn ever again. 

And he couldn’t have that, now could he? Not only because the boy was the leader of the otherworldly and very powerful species that seemed to have everyone on edge, but also because he had grown quite fond of him and he would miss his visits. Especially now that he’d introduced him to his little girlfriend.

What? He just couldn’t resist, so sue him. 

The kindly innkeeper was broken out of his reverie by Yugo and Amalia taking their respective seats in front of the counter and right in front of him. He smiled at them. “What can I get you, guys?”

Yugo’s answer was swift. “Same as always, Alibert. Thank you.”

“Even your drink? Wouldn’t you like some bamboo milk instead of your usual water?” Alibert suggested, as it was in his innkeeper nature, but the king just shook his head politely. 

“Just water is fine, thanks. I still have to get us back home and, trust me, drunkenness and portals don’t mix.”

Yugo laughed lightly at that, clearly thinking back to some occasion where alcohol had done a number to him and/or his people. But since neither Alibert nor Ruel had ever seen a tipsy Eliatrope, they only chuckled a little out of politeness. The chef then redirected his attention to the Divine Doll. 

“What will it be, my Lady?”

Amalia startled a little, and felt silly about it immediately afterwards. They were in a restaurant, so it was only natural that Alibert would ask her what she’d like to eat. Problem was, she had no idea. 

Back at the palace, she mostly just ate whatever the chef and kitchen staff had cooked that day, so outside of saying she preferred some fruit over more elaborate desserts or if she would like some bread with her food, she had never really had much of a choice. And on top of that, there was also the fact that she simply didn’t know what Alibert served in his restaurant. 

As she wracked her mind trying to come up with an answer to the surprisingly impossible task, her finger tapping her chin pensively, Yugo placing a hand on her shoulder as he leaned closer to her got her to perk up in his direction. 

“I can’t recommend Alibert’s Gobball Stew enough.” He told her, giving her a toothy grin. “It’s the best thing on the menu by far, and that’s saying something!”

“Thank you, my boy. Can’t deny it feels good to have your cooking recognised.” The Enutrof said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment at the compliment. Then, his expression soured as he shot a glare in Ruel’s direction. “Not everyone is as appreciative of my food as you are. Even though it’s clearly good enough to keep them coming for twenty years.”

“Typical. You have no trouble forgiving an apple thief, but when it comes to me, you sure know how to hold a grudge…” Ruel grumbled quietly to himself, rolling his eyes and making a physical effort to avoid making eye contact with his best friend. 

Fearing another round of bickering was about to start lest she did something, Amalia stammered out her answer, “I-I…um! The…the Gobball Stew sounds fine. I’d like to try it, too.”

Alibert’s scowl immediately softened at the doll’s request. “Of course, my Lady. It’ll be an honour. Do you want anything to drink?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. Water is fine.”

“Suit yourselves.” The chef shrugged. He left a jar full of water near their untouched goblets, silently telling them they were free to get as many refills as they wanted. He turned back around and wandered deeper into the kitchen, calling out to them over his shoulder, “I’ll start with your stews right away. In the meantime, how ‘bout you tell me how Adamaï’s doing, huh, Yugo? And don’t worry about distracting me; I might not be so young anymore, but I can still multitask just fine.”

That got Amalia’s attention. “You’ve met Adamaï before?”

“But of course! I met the two of them at the same time, as a matter of fact.” Alibert answered, his back still turned to her as he rummaged through the crates where he kept all the ingredients. He picked up some onions, a few peppers, and several mushrooms; placed them on a cutting board and, with an expert hand, began to slice them with a kitchen knife. “Speaking of the Shushu, is there a reason why he didn’t come today with you two? Is he very busy?”

“Adamaï is doing just fine, Alibert. Thanks for asking.” Yugo replied, his head resting on his hand as he waited for his meal. “There were just some things that needed to be taken care of at the palace, so he chose to sit this one out. Just this once.” He winked at the Enutrof, hoping he wouldn’t take his twin’s absence the wrong way. 

He had nothing to worry about, for the chef just looked up from his task and sent him a knowing smile, an eyebrow arched. “Letting your brother do all the work while you’re out and about, having fun? My, that’s not very kingly of you, Your Majesty.”

The Eliatrope had the decency to blush. Truth be told, the real reason why Adamaï chose not to accompany them to Emelka was because this was all supposed to help Amalia out and make her feel better over whatever it was that had been troubling her lately. And Ad was very adamant on not getting in the way. As much as Yugo tried to argue that that was just ridiculous since they were all friends, his brother shut him up with a look. 

A look that clearly said that Amalia needed him at the moment, so the dragon would most likely just spend the day acting like a third wheel. 

Another look from his twin prevented Yugo from protesting about that. 

Just as he was about to give some flimsy excuse or use his usual laid-back persona to get Alibert off his back, Amalia beat him to the punch. Yugo could only stare at her as she stood up for him. 

“Oh, but that’s not true at all!” She said, her voice, though still soft and sweet, was filled with unwavering conviction. “Yugo’s always doing his very best to be of service to his people. Every single day, his schedule is simply packed with the daily responsibilities he has to tend to.”

She began listing things off with her fingers. “Every day, he trains, and meets up with his siblings individually to check up on their progress on their respective fields and chores. And he personally talks to the members of their staff and guards to see if there’s anything to report. And at least once a week he listens to his subjects’ grievances, fully intending to solve them as quickly as possible even if it means he must pull an all-nighter. Not to mention, he also must hold a meeting with the Council of Six to discuss important matters and update each other on their progress.

“And yet,” She turned to look at him with such sweetness in her eyes, Yugo could practically taste the sugar on his lips. If only he could taste it on hers… “Amidst all that, despite how time-consuming it surely is, Yugo always takes some time out of his busy schedule to spend it with me.” She looked at Alibert straight in the eye, her gaze piercing yet not unkind. “I assure you, Alibert, nobody takes his responsibilities as seriously as Yugo.”

A pregnant silence fell over them after Amalia’s impassioned speech. While a small blush betrayed her own vulnerability, the doll didn’t back down, hers a face of determination. The Eliatrope wished he could follow her example, however, he found himself too overwhelmed to move his hand away from his burning cheeks, let alone look the girl (or the Enutrofs, for that matter) in the eye. His heart thudded violently against his ribcage. Meanwhile, the pair of old friends could only stare wide-eyed at Amalia, before exchanging meaningful glances with each other, years of friendship allowing them to hold a full conversation without words. 

Finally, the chef’s shock melted into a smile. “Of course, my Lady. I didn’t mean to imply Yugo doesn’t work hard to be a good king, I know for a fact that nothing could be further from the truth.”

“So…?” She trailed off, tilting her head to the side. 

“It was just some harmless teasing between friends. All in good fun.” He promised, before pointing a finger in the Eliatrope’s direction. “But I’m serious! Tell your brother to stop by soon. You know I enjoy your visits.”

“Of course, Alibert. I’ll let him know.” Then, his face broke into a downright devilish smirk as he seemed to remember something. “Just make sure to keep any Kralamoure out of sight.”

The chef actually cracked up at that, much to the doll’s bewilderment. After a little while, he quieted down, wiping a tear off his face. “Oh, your brother’s never gonna live that down, is he?”

“Nope.” Said Yugo with a wolfish grin, popping the ‘p’.

“He’s never gonna live what down?” Amalia asked, her face scrunched up in confusion as she stared back and forth between the two of them. “Did something happen with a Kralamoure?”

Now that she thought about it, she remembered how Adamaï hadn't looked all that enthused when she discovered the creature for the first time back when the three of them went to Oma’s beach. Maybe it was related?

“You could say that…” Alibert chuckled. Amalia was about to insist some more when Yugo took pity on her and began retelling the story himself. 

“As you can imagine, the only thing more eye-catching than an Eliatrope is an Eliatrope Dragon, so the first few times Ad and I went exploring on our own, he had to take on a less conspicuous form. Usually, he goes with the local wildlife. And on this particular day, Ad chose to be a Kralamoure. Now, what does a Kralamoure have to do with Emelka’s wildlife, I don’t know, but when dragons get an idea, it’s impossible to change their minds. So I let him be.”

“But I thought dragons were capable of taking on more humanoid appearances.” Shinonomé, Grougaloragran, and Phaeris were proof enough of that. “I get Adamaï can be stubborn, but why would he choose to be a Kralamoure, of all things?”

Yugo winced and tilted his head every which way. “They are, they definitely are. It’s just that full-on humanoid forms have never really been Ad’s forte. Random creatures like tofus or even golems? No problem. But the most human he can look is his usual appearance.”

“Huh.” Was all the doll could say in response to that. 

“Anyway,” Yugo continued. “For some reason, Ad turned into a Kralamoure, but because of a series of events that aren’t all that relevant right now, he ended up with the other Kralamoures Alibert had taken out.”

Amalia gasped. She already had a pretty good inkling on what happened next and couldn’t help but feel waves of sympathy for the dragon. 

“Hadn’t Yugo stopped me and Adamaï shapeshifted back into his usual self on time, he would have ended up as that day’s special.” Alibert finished grimly, confirming her thoughts. Then, he added, almost like an afterthought. “Not gonna lie, I don’t think I’d be able to bring myself to cook Kralamoure ever again after that…”

They all nodded in agreement. The Divine Doll, in particular, had never eaten Kralamoure before, but seeing what almost happened to her friend, she figured it was better if it remained that way and she swore it off altogether. 

As he tossed the rice he’d need for the stew into the boiling water, Alibert tried to change the subject to lighter topics. As much as he and Yugo liked to tease Adamaï about it, there was no doubt that almost being cooked alive was a really macabre topic. It was really bringing the mood down. 

“So, what can you tell us about Inglorium, my Lady?” Alibert asked casually, sending Amalia a calculated side-glance meant to downplay his question. As the doll perked up, he kept his focus on stirring the pot. “Forgive me, I’m sure you must have been asked the same thing countless times already, but you’ll have to understand, us mortals tend to get curious over the realm of the gods.”

“Speak for yourself.” Ruel scoffed dismissively. In the blink of an eye, however, his disinterested expression lit up in excitement and he leaned in closer to Amalia, grasping her hands in his. She had to suppress the urge to flinch at his eager eyes and far-too-wide smile. “Having said that, is it true what they say about Enutrof’s realm? Is there treasure as far as the eye can see?”

Amalia’s face fell, unimpressed. Figures that would be the only thing Ruel would be interested in. Coincidentally, that was all the Enutrof King wanted to know as well when they met back at Bonta. 

“I’m Sadida’s Doll, Ruel.” She began, her voice slow and clear as she tried to get her point across. “While I have met the other gods, I only have access to the… um… common areas and my father’s own dimension. I have no idea what Enutrof’s realm looks like.”

Ruel’s face fell at her explanation and he unceremoniously let go of her hands. He looked like he was about to cry. 

Thankfully for all parties involved, Alibert intervened, swatting his old friend away. “In that case, how are the gods, Lady Amalia? I’m sure you must have a lot of interesting anecdotes from your time with them.” His brow furrowed in confusion when all she did was pull a face and do a so-so motion with her hand. 

“Not really, I’m afraid.” She admitted. Yugo, who had been watching her intently since the conversation began, didn’t miss the way she fiddled with her wristband. “Naturally, I spent more time with my father and sisters as they all explained what I would need to know. But aside from Cra, who would drop by now and then to visit, I wasn’t really introduced to the other gods until it was practically time to come to the mortal realm.

“Although I must admit during that time, limited as it may have been, I got to appreciate certain characteristics and quirks that I have seen duplicated in their respective followers.”

“You mean things like how Ecaflip is always itching to gamble, a trait that he clearly passed down to his worshippers, right?” The Eliatrope king offered, remembering when she explained the same thing to the Twelvian rulers or she shared her tales about Inglorium with him. 

She nodded, a small smile on her face. “That’s right. I also remember taking notice of the fact that the Cra Matriarch and her entourage were as calm and collected as their goddess. Or the Sram’s apparently shared stoicism. And the Eniripsa Queen was just as bubbly and curious as Eniripsa herself!”

She also remembered being taken aback by the Iops’ battle-ready and impulsive nature. Maybe they weren’t the best conversationalists around, but they were at least entertaining. Though she could only wonder if they had that in common with their patron god or not—for some reason, she never got to meet Iop. Whatever the case, though, she had to admit their hair was to die for.

Her smile widened ever so slightly when she remembered the short moments she shared with the Sheran Sharms. While Prince Armand seemed to be more high-strung, and maybe even a little abrasive, she couldn’t help but be reminded of her father when in the presence of King Oakheart. He was a good man, she could feel it. 

“And what about The Miser himself?” Alibert urged her gently, unknowingly breaking her out of her stupor. The steak he placed into the pan sizzled upon touching its hot surface. “What can you tell us about him?”

Yugo had to bite back a laugh, his mind going back to their first encounter with the Enutrof King. He didn’t forget how the diminutive man cut straight to the chase and inquired about the size of his god’s treasure, much like Ruel had done moments before. If the deity himself was as money-hungry as his followers, then he feared the kind of offerings he demanded from them. 

“He’s stingy.” 

The words were out of Amalia’s mouth before she even had the time to think them over. Her eyes widened in shock when her brain finally caught up to her mouth, no doubt helped by the gaping looks both Enutrofs were flashing her with. By her side, she heard Yugo poorly trying to hide his snorts and wheezes, and, her lips pursed in irritation, she elbowed him to cut it out. 

Praying Sadida would put her out of her misery, she scrambled to add, “Um, uh… B-but that’s not all…! I mean, Enutrof has a lot of good qualities, too! Let’s see, um… there’s his… uh…”

Just as she was about to faint from trying to stammer her way out of her faux pas, the doll’s worries were put at ease when Alibert and Ruel broke into loud cackles right in front of her. In fact, Amalia couldn't help but shrink on herself uncomfortably when the commotion caused by their uproarious laughter drew the attention of the other patrons to the counter and onto her. 

As the two Enutrofs struggled to reel their amusement in, the doll scowled at Yugo. “You could’ve helped me, you know.”

She almost gasped when he still had the audacity to chuckle. “Sorry, I just figured you’d find out sooner or later.”

“A warning would’ve been nice!”

“And ruin the surprise?” He winked at her. 

Amalia sputtered, her cheeks ablaze. “I stood up for you earlier!”

That shut him up, and the Sadida Doll allowed herself to smirk in satisfaction, counting that as a small victory. What she didn’t know, however, was that Yugo’s silence had less to do with having lost their mock argument and everything to do with the fact that he couldn’t get Amalia’s earnest defence of him out of his mind. The way she so readily jumped in to prove Alibert’s—well-meaning and harmless—jabs wrong. The fact that she knew him so well she could easily recite his daily and even weekly schedule from memory. And the racing of his heart when she showed her sincere and deep appreciation for the fact that he always took some time away to be with her, how much it all clearly meant to her…

It all affected him in ways Yugo wasn’t quite ready to confront yet. 

So he welcomed the distraction when Ruel finally got his laughing fit under control to mutter, “No wonder you think the old dragon’s stingy, Amalia.” He wiped a tear off his face, before staring at his nails and scoffing with a roll of his eyes over a particular memory. “Last time I was in a pinch and asked him for help, he refused to do anything unless I paid him! Self-serving lizard…” 

“Ruel, you never give him any offerings in the first place. He’s a god, he’s bound to know when you’re lying.” Alibert pointed out. 

“Meh, same thing.” Ruel replied stubbornly, turning away with a huff. Indeed, the old man was the epitome of Enutrof stinginess. There was no doubt about that. 

As the innkeeper and his friend started bickering yet again, Amalia’s eyes trailed over to Yugo, the topic that had sparked up this conversation fresh in her mind. Yugo and his people worshipped and supposedly took after the Great Goddess Eliatrope. Did that mean Yugo and his siblings owed their personality to their mother? The Council of Six were all very different from each other; if that was the case, she wondered which traits they had actually inherited from her. 

Was she as scientifically-oriented as Chibi and Grougaloragran? Perhaps she was as level-headed and patient as Mina and Phaeris? Was she as enigmatic and all-knowing as Qilby and Shinonomé? Did Glip and Baltazar get their nurturing nature from her? Was she as impish as Nora or—Amalia shuddered at the thought—as prone to hold grudges as Efrim?

Would she be as selfless, and kind, and adventurous, and warm, and caring, and understanding, if a tad bit impulsive and emotion-driven, as Yugo? 

…And Adamaï. She meant to say if she would be like Yugo and Adamaï in terms of personality.

(She chose to ignore how Adamaï was actually far more level-headed and logical than his twin).

Just then, Yugo noticed her staring and turned to face her, his own expression unreadable. Almost as if he, too, had his mind plagued with swirling thoughts he couldn’t quite make sense of. He raised an eyebrow, and that alone was enough to convey his silent question—’What’s up?’. 

Amalia had her own question at the tip of her tongue, begging her to open her mouth so it could come tumbling out. Right before she got the chance, however, Alibert’s voice broke the spell they found themselves under, drawing their focus back to him. 

“Anywho, don’t worry, my Lady. And thank you for answering our questions.” Unlike his previous instances of bickering and mild aggression, this time, the innkeeper put his arm around Ruel’s shoulders and pulled him towards him. “I don’t know about these old bones right here, but it’s been a while since I heard any interesting stories!”

“That’s because you hung up your shovel and replaced it with a spatula just as things were getting good.” Ruel ribbed him with a smug smirk. 

“And I don’t regret it one bit.”

“Wait, what?” Amalia blinked, taken aback. “Alibert, is that true? You weren’t always a chef?”

“Believe it or not, this kindly innkeeper you see here used to be a bounty hunter alongside Ruel.” Yugo supplied helpfully, doing his very best to hold back the snort that threatened to escape him as Amalia’s jaw practically hit the floor, her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. Instead, he leaned over the counter and clasped a hand on the chef’s shoulder, giving him a firm squeeze. “Isn’t that right, Alibert?”

Amalia whipped her head so fast in his direction, the only possible explanation as to how she hadn’t given herself whiplash had to be that Sadida himself had to have intervened. 

“You used to be a bounty hunter?”

He scratched the side of his face, a little nervous under her scrutiny. “That’s right, my Lady. I was a bounty hunter for a while twenty years ago. Until I quit.”

“May I ask what made you quit?”

“Well, why not?” He shrugged. “You answered our questions, so it seems only fair that I answer yours. Now, let’s see…”

Amalia waited with bated breath for Alibert to begin with his tale. In the meantime, even as the chef organised his thoughts, his hands kept moving deftly around his station, adding the chopped vegetables and cooked rice into a bigger casserole and beginning to stir fry it all with a wooden spoon. Sizzling on the fire next to it, the steaks were almost done, too. 

The aroma emanating from the kitchen was so mouth-watering, Yugo couldn’t help but sigh blissfully, his stomach growling as it impatiently waited for the meal. Even Amalia had trouble focusing as soon as the scent hit her nostrils. 

Luckily for her, she didn’t get the chance to get too lost in her culinary daydreams, because as Alibert finally served their food to them—two plates filled with a generous serving of rice and stir-fried veggies with a crispy Gobball chop on top—, he spoke up:

“Well, I suppose I should start by saying that, just like Yugo told you, I used to be a bounty hunter. Ruel and I were partners and used to take on missions for money.”

“You mean you were my sidekick.” Ruel corrected with a smirk and a swig of his bamboo milk. “No offence, Al, but when you were still in diapers, I was already apprehending wanted criminals.”

Alibert ignored him. “Guess you could say it’s not all that surprising, coming from two Enutrofs. Being a bounty hunter is basically like getting paid for living adventures.”

“That sounds amazing…” The doll breathed, her eyes sparkling at the prospect of being able to make a living out of venturing into the world. Alibert had to suppress a chuckle at the panicked look plastered all over Yugo’s face at her reaction. 

“Overprotective much?” He couldn’t help but think. Instead, he chose to help him out. “It definitely has its perks.” If Yugo kept staring at him with those disbelieving, manic eyes of his, his façade was sure to crack and he’d break into another laughing fit. “But it’s also incredibly dangerous, too. Keep in mind that a bounty hunter doesn’t get paid unless they apprehend a criminal and bring them to justice. 

“And their crimes can go from something as harmless as stealing a few apples, to committing serious atrocities.” He said gravely, leaning closer to the girl over the counter. His eyes travelled over to Ruel  when the old Enutrof let out a rather violent shudder.

“The Compulsive Chopper of Bonta…” He muttered, seemingly reliving old memories. 

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess I can see why you wanted to quit…” Amalia admitted, before picking up her fork and finally bringing some of the stew into her mouth. Only for her eyes to snap open in shock as her taste buds were assaulted by a wave of rich, savoury flavours that almost knocked her out cold. 

The men around her watched the doll curiously, caution in their eyes, as she swallowed that forkful slowly, very slowly, and remained immobile for a while. Her brown orbs, as big as the plates containing her meal, stared straight ahead, almost as if she’d seen a ghost. The Eliatrope and the two Enutrofs shared fearful glances, and Ruel motioned towards Amalia with his head to get Yugo to do something about her. 

The king, who had his own spoonful suspended in mid-air at his friend’s strange behaviour, gently set his fork down. Sending a nod towards Ruel, he tentatively reached out to Amalia, but just as he was about to gently nudge her out of her stupor, the doll snapped out of her trance all by herself and proceeded to all but gorge the stew down under the astonished, and a little bit concerned, stares of the men around her. 

For a little while, Amalia kept shoving spoonfuls of rice and vegetables into her mouth as she furiously tore into the steak with her knife and cut it up to likewise wolf it down. Then, she began to slowly regain her bearings as she finally seemed to remember she had company— company that was looking at her with slight terror in their eyes—, and her frantic, ravenous movements halted. With a sheepish, forced chuckle, she set her utensils down on the table and sat up straight once more, her cheeks red as apples. 

The colour intensified when she took notice of the inn’s patrons staring at her like she had used her powers to grow an entire forest from scratch. 

She awkwardly coughed into her hand. “Um… Yugo was right. Your Gobball Stew is delicious, Alibert.” A pause. “Thank you.”

All three of them kept staring owlishly at her for a few more seconds, causing the doll to further shrink on herself in embarrassment. And, then, they suddenly broke down laughing, which turned her embarrassment into irritation, a vein throbbing on her forehead. Alibert threw his head back as he cackled, Ruel kept banging the counter with his fists, and Yugo was at the very least trying to suppress his blown-out laughter into more modest snickers. 

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but to Amalia, it might as well have been an eternity. 

At long last, the Eliatrope regained his composure enough to tell her, “I knew you’d love it. I’m glad in the end I didn’t make a mistake by bringing you here.”

Though surprised at first by his earnest response, Amalia soon returned his smile with one of her own. “As long as it comes from you, I’m pretty sure I’ll end up loving anything you show me.”

She couldn’t help but feel giddy inside when pink dusted over his cheeks at her admission, her own face growing warm. Sometimes he was just too cute for his own good. Unfortunately for her, the feeling was short-lived.

“Gotta say, last time I checked I was pretty sure you were supposed to be a Sadida demigoddess, not an Osamodas one.”

Amalia grimaced at the thought of being called Osamodas’ daughter, especially when she remembered the uncomfortable feeling she got whenever she locked eyes with the royal family. If it weren’t because of her own personal grudge against Count Harebourg, she would say not even Frigost was as cold as their sneers. 

She was almost too afraid to ask. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Yugo just shrugged innocently. When he smirked, his fangs glinted dangerously. “It’s just, you were eating like a hungry beast right there.”

Her cheeks ablaze, Amalia let out a scandalised squawk and gently swatted him on the shoulder. Much to her chagrin, her reaction only caused Yugo to laugh harder. 

Rolling her eyes at the unkingly display with a huff, she turned in her stool to face Alibert again and ask him more about his former profession. Only for the words to die in her throat when she noticed the chef and his old friend staring back at them with unreadable expressions on their faces. 

“What are you guys looking at?”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed how Yugo shifted in his own stool. The movement of his ears indicated he, too, was beginning to feel anxious. 

Feeling like they had been caught, Alibert shook his hands in front of himself in an attempt to dispel any lingering tension, while Ruel pretended to go back to nursing his tankard. 

“No, no, nothing at all!” The chef rushed out, sweatdropping under her suspicious glare. “I’m just glad you seem to enjoy my food that much, Lady Amalia. It’s not every day that a divine child comes into my restaurant and praises my culinary skills like that.”

“Except for when Yugo and Adamaï come.” Ruel muttered into his bamboo milk. He let out a yelp when Alibert elbowed him to cut it out. 

“Oh.” Amalia said, timidly looking at her side and tucking some hair behind her ear. “In that case, yes, I very much enjoyed your food, Alibert.” She sent a conspiratory wink his way and stage-whispered. “Don’t tell the kitchen staff back at the palace, but yours is the best cooking I’ve had since I arrived.”

The Enutrof smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me, my Lady.”

“And with me.” Yugo agreed. “Between you and me, I also like Alibert’s cooking better, but what kind of king would I be if I put down my people’s cooking for an outsider’s?”

The three of them laughed at his joke, while Ruel hid his own smirk behind his drink. Bringing yet another spoonful to her mouth in a much more subdued pace, Amalia made sure to redirect the conversation back to its original topic. 

“So, is that why you quit, Alibert?” When all he did was raise a confused eyebrow, she elaborated. “Because the bounty hunter life was too dangerous?”

The Enutrof’s bewildered expression softened into a small, wistful smile. 

“Yes and no.”

And so, as his two guests stuffed their faces with his specialty and he busied himself with prepping upcoming orders and ordering his employees around, Alibert told them all about how he came to leave that life behind. 

According to the Enutrof, while he certainly didn’t regret all the adventures he and Ruel had been to and everything they had seen, after a while, it stopped being all that fulfilling. Whenever they handed their latest target in and received their reward, he would find his gaze and mind wandering, far too distracted by thoughts and choices that had nothing to do with the here and now. More than once, when the two adventurers turned in for the night next to the warm glow of the fire, while Ruel snored to his heart’s content, Alibert laid awake, wondering if that was all there was to it, to his life. 

Even more surprising—although, he admitted that, looking back, it really wasn’t— was the fact that he didn’t really enjoy the job all that much in the first place. Granted, it was great that they got to travel as much as they did, and the pay wasn’t so bad, but sometimes, depending on the ‘criminal’ they brought to justice, he couldn’t help the ache in his heart and the heavy chains of regret he would feel. One thing was chasing and capturing a hardened villain and mastermind like some of the most notorious criminals they had faced; and another very different thing was heavily fining or even jailing a poor family man who only wished to feed his loved ones during a time of crisis and famine. Especially when the aristocrats would take decadent meals for granted while the least fortunate starved. 

That was when he would most often disregard his duties upon accepting the job; it took a lot of convincing to get Ruel to listen to him, but most of the time, they ended letting those poor, unfortunate souls go and forsaking the reward money. 

(And each time without fail he would receive an earful from Ruel about the sacrilege that was letting those precious, precious kamas go just like that). 

As luck would have it, one such case didn’t just lead to him quitting the bounty hunter job at long last, but it also led him to Emelka. 

The two Enutrofs had taken up a job requiring them to chase down an apple thief. And… that was exactly what they did. Alibert confessed he was hesitant to really punish the guy for the ridiculous crime of robbing some measly apples to begin with, but when he realised he had only done so to feed his children, the kindly Enutrof realised once and for all he couldn’t go on with that kind of life. So he let the man go back to his family, hung up his shovel, and wished Ruel the best of luck in his future endeavours. Now all that was left was forging a new path for himself. 

“Let me tell you about this one perk being nice to others has, my Lady.” Alibert winked at her as he placed a hand on his hip. He flicked the rag he had in the other hand before leaning over to wipe the counter with it. “Most people will repay you out of gratitude.”

He nodded towards a middle-aged man sitting at a table near the back of the restaurant, next to him were a young man and woman that appeared to be his family. “See that man over there? He’s the apple thief I was telling you about. When he learned I would be staying in Emelka for a few days until I figured out what to do next, he sought me out and suggested I take over the old inn. Apparently, the village was in desperate need for some new life to be breathed into it.

“At first I wasn’t sure, but then I remembered how I always cooked for Ruel and I whenever we had to camp and I figured, ‘Why not?’.” He chuckled to himself, his eyes darting down in reminiscence as he scrubbed a difficult stain on the wood a little more furiously. “One thing led to the other and now, not only do I run the most successful inn on this side of Amakna, but I also ended up becoming the village’s mayor.” He let out a wistful sigh. “Life sure has ways to surprise you.”

Her polished plate of stew long finished, Amalia listened to Alibert’s tale with rapt attention, her head resting on her knuckles and her eyes sparkling in a newfound sense of profound admiration. If she already respected the man before due to his adventuring days, then his undeniable heart of gold managed to win her over completely. Not everyone was capable of going against the law to do the actual right thing, and even fewer people did so with the promise of money in mind, especially when the people in question were Enutrofs. So the fact that Alibert managed to resist his kama-loving instincts and decided to forge a path for himself was beyond incredible to the doll.

Her brows knitted together and her lips pursed in a firm line when Efrim’s words echoed unbidden in her mind, reminding her of her own shortcomings. She had a long way to go before she could ever be close to the chef’s level. 

She blinked those thoughts away when Yugo agreed with Alibert, “It sure has. Just when you think you have it all figured out, life throws a curved ball at you that sends you reeling and struggling to regain your footing.” 

Was she imagining things, or did his gaze flit momentarily to hers before he hastily fixed it right back ahead? Her eyebrow only raised higher when he cleared his throat, his voice suddenly hoarse.  “A-anyway, I’m glad you eventually managed to find your path and to live your life to the fullest, Alibert. You deserve it.” 

As if to emphasise his point, he raised his goblet in the air and tilted it slightly towards the chef, silently making a toast in his honour Amalia found herself mimicking heartily. 

They didn’t understand when the innkeeper let out a heavy sigh. “Thank you, Yugo. But, as much as I enjoy my life as it is now, that doesn’t mean I don’t have a few regrets of my own.” As he said that, he gazed longingly at the table where the old apple thief and his family were seated at, a sad glint reflected in his dark brown irises. 

Staring back and forth between Alibert and the family all the way over to the other side of the restaurant in confusion, the doll’s expression lit up in understanding before it melted into sympathy for the man. For all his accomplishments over the years, what Alibert truly wanted was a family of his own, but, for some reason or another, he never got the chance. 

As much as the Divine Doll wanted to reach out and console him, she remained quiet, her hands clutching at her pants nervously. No matter how generous, kind, and welcoming Alibert was, they had barely known each other for a short while. She couldn’t help but feel like she would be intruding upon something very personal if she said anything. Besides, Ruel and Alibert had known each other for years; if anyone could cheer him up, it was him.

Somehow, that didn’t make her feel all that much better over her own lack of initiative. 

She perked up when instead it was Yugo who reached out to the old innkeeper, placing his bandaged hand on his forearm to draw his attention. When the Enutrof looked down at him, the doll could see from the corner of the eye how the king had his characteristic comforting smile plastered on his face. 

“If there’s something I’ve learned over the years, it’s that no matter how long you live and how many things you do, chances are, you’ll never get to do everything you ever wanted.” He confessed, his voice kind but unwavering in its conviction. It was at moments like that Amalia remembered Yugo was also a demigod, only he had lived for far longer and was far more experienced than her. 

“We will always have regrets; after all, that is the price you pay for being able to make your own choices.” He continued. “What matters is that we don’t let those regrets keep us from enjoying the things we got right.”

For a moment, Alibert just stared at the boy in front of him, amazed by seeing such wisdom coming from such a young man. Then again, he supposed Yugo wasn’t really that young, now was he? How old did he say he was last time he asked, 500-something? Despite how he might look, he had already seen far more than the vast majority of the World of Twelve, and yet, he remained humble enough to let himself be taught and schooled by others. 

The old innkeeper guessed it was easy to forget Yugo was an extremely long-lived Eliatrope when, not only did he look to be in his twenties, but more than once Alibert himself had been there for him, listening to him vent as he unloaded his many responsibilities and worries unto him, sometimes still feeling as unprepared to be king as he did when his brother Chibi (if memory served) first appointed him as his successor. 

It was so easy to see a young man taking his first steps into adulthood when he still bickered and squabbled with his twin brother like a pair of kids. Or when his insecurities consumed him and Alibert would witness how he’d curl in on himself, appearing much younger than he really was both physically and mentally. Or when he would blush, and stutter, and gaze longingly at the beautiful flower he had brought with him as if he were a smitten teenager introducing his first girlfriend to his parents instead of a centuries-old demigod. 

From the moment they met, something about Yugo made Alibert want to be there for him, no matter what. He couldn’t help but get all misty-eyed when it was apparent Yugo wanted to do the same thing for him. 

His wide grin stretching from ear to ear, he snaked his own arm over Yugo’s shoulders and brought the king closer with an affectionate tug and a squeeze, laughing merrily and insisting he bring Adamaï over soon as the latter complained half-heartedly over not being able to breathe. 

From her seat, Amalia watched the exchange equal parts mesmerised and endeared. A few giggles escaped her as Ruel joined in on the fun and Alibert, with the grumpiest pout she had ever seen in her admittedly short life, playfully shoved the old miser away, grumbling about personal space as he did so. Her lips tugging upwards into a fond smile, Amalia found herself thinking that Alibert had found his own little family after all. 

...........................................................................................................................

“...and that is the story of how I led a Precious Metal Band, before that shameless fiend of Phil Armonique got greedy and crushed my dreams.” Ruel finished his tale with a swig of his drink and a nostalgic grumble. While Alibert leaned on the counter, rolling his eyes exasperatedly, Amalia and Yugo stared at the old Enutrof with eyes wide as saucers. 

If only by the sheer ridiculousness of it all. 

“But… you guys never even settled for a name…” Yugo pointed out warily. He had a feeling Ruel wouldn’t react well to being confronted with reality. 

His suspicions were proven correct when the old miser slammed his tankard against the counter hard enough to startle both Eliatrope and Sadida Doll, a nasty snarl on his face.

“Only because that foolish bragard refused to acknowledge the fact that my name was better! Hadn’t it been for that stubborn Dragoturkey, we would have taken the World of Twelve by storm!

“Do you know how popular Precious Metal is in Brakmar?” He asked aloud, but before either Yugo or Amalia had so much as a chance to open their mouths to respond, he cut them off, throwing his arms to the side frantically. “We could have been rich!” 

His eyes welled up with tears at the thought of all the precious kamas he lost, holding his head in his hands as he bawled furiously. So close and yet, so far… “And all because that egotistical, talentless hack insisted we named the band after him, even though I was the brains of the operation and the most important member to boot!” Yugo instinctively snaked an arm around Amalia’s waist and brought her closer to him when she flinched just as Ruel’s wails were beginning to raise in volume. “Had he seen reason and agreed to go along with my idea, our band’s name would have been remembered for generations!”

“Uh-huh.” Alibert, who was more than accustomed to his best friend’s little spiels and his tendency to lose himself in his hysterics whenever it came to money, just hummed noncommittally. Then, just as casually, he called out to Ruel. “And what did you say was the name of your band again?”

Sniffing loudly, Ruel opened his mouth to answer, only to close it immediately after. His face scrunched up in thought. “I… actually don’t remember.” He admitted sheepishly after a beat, flashing them a toothy grin as he rubbed the back of his head. 

While Yugo could only facepalm, Amalia almost fell off her stool For his part, Alibert just let out an exasperated sigh. “I knew it.”

Just as the old Enutrof was about to defend himself, the offended frown evident on his face, the Eliatrope cut in, standing from his stool and clasping his hands together. Looking up at him, the doll momentarily wondered if it was time they left already, and she couldn’t help the pang of disappointment she felt at the thought. She didn’t have anything to worry about, however. 

“As… entertaining as this has been,” Yugo commented diplomatically, pulling a face. “That last glass of water passed through me with the speed of a racing Dragoturkey, so, Alibert,” he addressed the man. “Would you please be so kind as to remind me where the restroom is?”

For a moment, the old innkeeper just blinked, bewildered, before he snapped out of his trance and let out a full-on belly laugh. Sometimes dealing with Yugo could be a riot, especially when he acted as casual as any man his age—or, well, any man whose actual age was the one he looked—, only to immediately afterwards regain the same level of formality and eloquence expected from someone of his position. 

Then again, considering Amalia was still present, he had a pretty good guess he was doing it mostly for her sake.

With one last chuckle, he jabbed his thumb to the side. “It’s right down the hall, Your Majesty. Let me know if you need me to refill the toilet paper or something.”

“Don’t worry. I can take care of it.” He smirked over his shoulder, wiggling his fingers meaningfully as he excused himself. 

With Yugo gone for the time being, Amalia found herself growing a little self-conscious. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been enjoying Alibert and Ruel’s company, though the latter could be a bit of an acquired taste, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel more at ease around new people if Yugo was there with her. 

She frowned at the thought, once again remembering Efrim’s hurtful but accurate assessment of her. She involuntarily closed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as his voice echoed in her mind for the umpteenth time, tearing into her for her dependence on his brother. Even now, she needed him by her side just to be able to talk to two perfectly friendly people who had been nothing but kind to her. And he was just down the hall!

What was wrong with her? Couldn’t she do anything on her own? Did she always have to depend on Yugo? Just, what kind of Divine Doll was she—?

“Kama for your thoughts?”

She blinked rapidly, the self-disparaging trance she was in now broken. “Huh?” She oh-so-eloquently said. 

It took her a little more than she’d like to admit to regain her bearings, but when she finally did, she found both Ruel and Alibert were looking at her with unreadable expressions on their faces. Though, Amalia could tell they weren’t unkind. If anything, they looked worried about her. 

“Oh, no.”

Before she had the time to panic and try to frantically excuse herself, Ruel repeated his question. “Kama for your thoughts?”

The doll tilted her head to the side, “You charge people for thinking?” She honestly couldn’t put it past him…

“Probably in Brakmar.”

When it became clear the joke flew right over her head, her face scrunched up in confusion, Alibert stepped in to clarify. “Technically speaking, it’s Ruel who’s offering to pay you in exchange for hearing your thoughts, Lady Amalia.”

“Now, if you feel like paying me, who am I to deny the wish of a Divine Doll such as yourself?” Ruel chimed in, solemnly placing a hand over his heart in a display that wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Please, ignore him.” The innkeeper waved him off. When he focused back on the doll, his expression turned softer, more fatherly. “What we’re trying to say is, is there something troubling you, my Lady?”

Amalia was about to deny everything when Alibert jabbed a finger right in front of her face, causing her to yelp in surprise. “And don’t you even think about shrugging it off as nothing. I might be a humble innkeeper, but I have so many drunk and not-so-drunk customers confiding their problems with me, I might as well be a certified therapist at this point.”

“He’s not wrong, you know.” Ruel added as he took another swig of his bamboo milk—just how many of those had he had already? It was honestly impressive he still seemed to be coherent at all. For an Enutrof, he could give a Pandawa a run for their money. “There’s a reason I come here so often.”

For once, Alibert bit back a scathing remark about how he only seemed to come visit because he never forced him to pay his tab, no matter how much he complained about his best friend mooching off from him. But he held back. Now that wasn’t important, helping Amalia with whatever seemed to be on her mind was. 

Instead, he lowered his voice so it’d sound as encouraging as possible, offering the doll a small smile. “So, what seems to be the problem?”

Alibert watched as Amalia seemed to be battling with herself and whatever demons were plaguing her mind. Bringing a hand to her chest and bawling it into a fist, she averted her gaze, looking at everywhere but them, and bit down on her bottom lip. From her guarded, tense posture alone, it was easy to tell she was really debating whether she should say anything or insist on taking her secrets to the grave. 

After what felt like an eternity, the Divine Doll seemed to finally make up her mind. Her gaze down-lidded and gleaming with vulnerability, she let out a heavy sigh before glancing over at the chef. The way her shoulders sagged made it look like she alone was carrying the weight of the world—at least, whatever was burdening her must have been very heavy. She bit her lip a little harder. 

“Recently, I’ve been having… doubts.” She admitted, her voice small and unsure. She hugged herself for comfort as she spoke, her arms holding her torso as if she feared she would come breaking down unless she forced herself to keep it together. 

When she grew silent again, Alibert urged her gently. “What kind of doubts?”

As images of her last encounter with Efrim flashed through her mind, merciless, she forced herself to grit out. “About a lot of things, really.” She shrugged, small and helpless.

She wouldn’t go into much detail about what was really on her mind. After all, the last thing she needed was rumours going on about how a member of the Council of Six wasn’t just distrustful of her, but had also attacked and insulted her—Her! A Divine Doll. It would only serve to further aggravate the already tense rapport between Eliatropes and Twelvians and she couldn’t afford to make matters worse. 

“I was forced to face the fact that maybe…” She swallowed thickly. “That maybe I’m not worthy of being one of Sadida’s Dolls.” Her voice almost broke with that admission, the stinging sensation in her eyes back at full force as she tried to keep the tears that threatened to stream down her cheeks at bay. 

Both Enutrofs shared alarmed glances, struggling to believe their own ears. This time, it was Ruel who spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “My dear, surely you don’t think that! After all, you are a Sadida Doll—he made you himself! There’s no way you aren’t worthy of the position if you were born with it.”

“But that’s just it!” Amalia had to summon every ounce of self-control she possessed not to screech, worried over her voice carrying over to Yugo and alerting him of her current emotional state. If there was one thing she wanted to avoid at all costs, that was the king finding out about what happened with his little brother. “Sadida made me to be objectively exceptional! I’m a living, breathing doll with powers beyond mortal comprehension, for crying out loud! 

“And yet, I feel like, no matter how much I try, nothing I do ever amounts to anything. I’m surrounded by extraordinary people, all of them working themselves to the bone to achieve their goals and serve their purpose. And then there’s me… Despite having the devastating power of nature at my fingertips, I feel like I can’t do anything on my own. I’m always depending on others, to the point I’m utterly helpless by myself. How can I call myself a Divine Doll if I’m so pathetic!?”

As she spoke, her voice grew wobbly and unsure, threatening to tear her throat apart as the tears welled up in her eyes. By the time she was done talking, the dam broke and all she could do was sob as silently as possible into her hands, her body shaking with the motion. Luckily for her, Ruel was doing everything in his power to shield her from any prying eyes in her moment of vulnerability, both by placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as he leaned closer to her and by sending nasty glares as anyone who got too curious. She would have to remember to thank him when she wasn’t such a mess. 

She was taken aback when Alibert abruptly changed the subject, his tone even as he levelled with her. “Have you ever been to the Sadida Kingdom, my Lady?”

“W-what?” Was all she managed to say between sniffles, looking up at the chef from her hands with watery but confused brown eyes. Her shoulders still shook now and then from her sobbing.

“Have you ever been to the Sadida Kingdom?” He repeated. “Or met one of your father’s followers?”

Despite her bewilderment, the doll managed to answer honestly. “Um, no? I-I mean, I haven’t been to the Sadida Kingdom y-yet. Father sent me straight to the Eliatropes. And this is actually the second time I ever leave their territory, the first one being when we headed over to Bonta. Although, it was precisely there that I met the Sheran Sharms, the Sadida Royal Family.”

“I see.”

Alibert hummed with a nod, at the same time, he took her and Yugo’s plates away and stashed them into the sink to wash them later. Truth be told, in all his adventures over the world, he had never actually met the Sheran Sharms, as none of their travels ever took him and Ruel to their kingdom, let alone their court. He knew snippets and rumours he would gather from travelling Sadida who talked amongst themselves either as they parted from home or returned after some time away. 

From them he gathered that King Oakheart Sheran Sharm was beloved by his people thanks to his open-minded and welcoming, yet responsible and just nature. That his kingdom wept the loss of their dear queen almost as much as her family did. That young Prince Armand was shaping up into a worthy successor… even if he could still be quite arrogant, condescending, and his breath was bad enough to kill a Bwork. That a general feeling of unease regarding his decision to marry an outsider like that one Osamodas princess reigned supreme, as well as their general malcontent when it came to her… Really, the usual idle gossip amongst civilians.

But he had also learned enough over the years to understand the Tree People weren’t ones to be underestimated, and it would greatly hurt both them and their patron god to see a Divine Doll, the only creatures they worshipped as much as Sadida and their forests, beat herself up like Amalia was doing at the moment.

“W-why do you ask?” The doll stammered out as she tried to wipe the tears off her face. Much to her chagrin, however, Alibert chose to answer her query with a question of his own. 

“What did you think of them?”

“Of who? You mean the Sheran Sharms?”

The Enutrof nodded. He shot a meaningful look at Ruel, who was watching the scene in bewilderment, to remain silent. 

“Oh. Uh, let’s see…” Amalia began. Unbeknownst to her, during the time it took her to gather her thoughts to reply, she was doing exactly what Alibert expected her to. That question had forced her to keep her mind off her own insecurities and to focus on something else, which in turn helped her calm down, as evidenced by the fact that her breaths were no longer shallow and her tears had subsided. 

“Well, I remember being taken aback when I first met Prince Armand. Don’t get me wrong, I could tell he greatly cares for his kingdom and takes his duty and position as future king very seriously. It's just…” She bit her bottom lip, weighing her words carefully. “Maybe he takes it a little too seriously? Believe me when I say not even Father himself is as formal as he was, and he seemed to be especially guarded when it came to Yugo and the Council. But I guess that’s to be expected.” She shrugged. 

“And then there was King Oakheart…” The doll trailed off, her mind going back to the first time she was face-to-face with the current leader of her father’s followers and the greatest treasure he could have given to the World of Twelve—its forests. She wouldn’t have been able to keep her lips from curling into a smile at the memory even if she had wanted to. “It was plain to see that the Sadida are in good hands. My father must be incredibly pleased to know his people and forests are protected by such a wonderful man.”

“I’m sure he is.” Alibert agreed as he handed a napkin to the doll to dry her tears with. “I must admit I haven’t had the ‘pleasure’,” even if he hadn’t air-quoted the words, the tone of his voice would have been enough to understand he was being sarcastic, “of being formally introduced to the world’s leaders.”

“Sometimes, dealing with the mayors and figureheads of the communities we visited was bad enough.” Ruel chimed in with a roll of his eyes. 

“Right.” Alibert nodded. Then, he turned back to an expectant Amalia. “But I will say this, out of all the kings and queens, and princes and princesses their travelling subjects have talked about around me, everyone seemed to agree King Oakheart is clearly the best leader they could ever ask for. Which doesn’t surprise me, as that man seems to embody Sadida values through and through.”

Perking up at that last part, Amalia tilted her head to the side, intrigued. As a Sadida herself, technically, she was well-acquainted with the commandments the Leafy God’s disciples were supposed to follow, which she did without fail. Still, judging by the way the innkeeper said that, she had the feeling he wasn’t actually referring to the king’s pious nature. 

“I suppose the ruler of the Sadida Kingdom must possess a powerful link and respect for nature…” She chuckled, scratching her cheek sheepishly. She let out a squeak when the chef just shook his head good-naturedly. 

“If you ever get the chance to go to the Sadida Kingdom, my Lady, I suggest you take it. You see, I have never been there myself, but I have served enough Sadida their food to believe I have quite a good grasp when it comes to understanding what makes them tick.”

“What makes them tick…?” Amalia repeated, blinking slowly. ‘Tick’ as in, like a Xelor?

He nodded. “That’s right. From what I’ve gathered, Sadida are easily amongst the most easy-going and laid-back races populating this world. Most of them aren’t concerned with fleeting, shallow things like fame and fortune, rather, they prefer to keep their feet firmly on the ground and add their two kamas by helping preserve what they consider to be the greatest gift of all…”

“Nature.” Amalia finished for him, the answer so ingrained into her, it left her mouth before she so much as had time to register what she said.

Alibert chuckled as he handed another order over to one of his waiters. “Precisely.” His expression, while it never lost its levity, gained a new, meaningful edge. “However, just because they’re peaceful and know how to appreciate the small things in life, that does not mean they are pushovers, for all Sadida are born with one purpose: to protect the forests of the world and their loved ones.

“Your people are nature-lovers, Lady Amalia, that much is undeniable. But it’s precisely because they love nature so much that they’re willing to become fearsome warriors in order to protect it. And, from what I gathered, that attitude also extends to their royal family.”

This time, it was Ruel who spoke, his voice laced with a conviction and thinly-veiled disdain that was odd in him, especially when it had nothing to do with having lost money. “Many other royals will use their position to justify having others do their dirty work for them, all the while they act as nothing more than paperpushers, at best, or self-serving despots far more concerned with indulging in their own debauchery than fulfilling their actual duties, at worst. But not the Sheran Sharms.”

“The Sheran Sharms aren’t just leaders, they are warriors. To be a Sadida is to be a warrior. And no Sadida would ever allow for anyone to look down on them just because their own ferocity isn’t immediately obvious as compared to Iop, Cra, or Sacrier.” Alibert finished for his old friend, before his hazel gaze settled back on the Divine Doll staring at him almost as if he had burst open the gates to Inglorium with his bare hands. His gaze was almost as piercing as what he said next. “Lady Amalia, you are Sadida’s Doll and, therefore, warrior blood runs through your veins. You should feel as proud of yourself as you feel about your people. It’s the least you all deserve.”

The Divine Doll felt her heart stop at his words, before it started pumping blood again, this time, with an intensity that was carried all over her body. It was like pure electricity coursing through her system, motivating her to move past her own weakness and make her father and their people proud. She needed to become stronger. She could become stronger. If her people, mortal as they were, faced each challenge head on in the name of what they believed in, so could she. She just needed to work on herself and to never give up. 

She could do this. She would do this. For Yugo and his people. For Sadida and his worshippers. For herself. It was high time she faced her own demons and learned to vanquish them, and this time, nothing, not even a powerful dragon with a bone to pick with her, would get in her way. 

Such was the excitement she felt at the moment, her emotions overwhelming her, the Sadida Doll didn’t even register the single tear that was streaming down her face until a voice she knew and adored called out to her, concern dripping from every syllable:

“Amalia, why are you crying?! Did something happen?”

With a small gasp of surprise she looked to the side just in time to see Yugo closing the distance between them and kneeling on the floor to reach out to her, the stools standing in the way be darned. When his hand cupped her cheek and he lovingly wiped the stray tear down her cheek away with his thumb, she immediately regretted the fact that his hands were currently bandaged by that dark cloth. She longed for his warmth, so much so, she couldn’t keep herself from leaning into his touch. 

“Amalia…” 

He uttered her name with such gentleness and tender concern for her, the doll’s heart constricted violently in her chest. Her hand came into contact with his, her own thumb rubbing circles on the back of it. 

“I’m fine, Yugo. I’m fine.” She didn’t know where she found the conviction that was imbued into her voice, but she wasn’t about to look a gift Dragoturkey in the mouth. If she began to question it, she feared she’d end up spilling everything to Yugo, even when she and Nora had already agreed it’d be best to leave him in the dark so as to not worry him. Just this once.

His brows knitted together in deep concern, Yugo flashed a furtive, questioning glance towards the old Enutrofs watching the interaction, his eyes narrowing when all they did was shake their heads and shrug innocently. Too innocently. It was clear they at the very least had an inkling on what had been troubling Amalia lately, yet they refused to divulge the information. 

On the one hand, the Eliatrope was glad those two were proving to be trustworthy enough not only to him and Adamaï, but to Amalia as well. She really needed some more people she could count on in this world. But on the other hand, he couldn’t help the clenching of his jaw at their secrecy. Today’s visit was supposed to help Amalia take her mind off her worries, not bring them back full force only to still push him away when all he wanted to do was help her!

Just as his eyes were beginning to glow blue from frustration, the doll’s sweet voice brought him back to the present. “Yugo, please. I’m serious, I’m okay. You have nothing to worry about, I swear. Come on, Ruel was about to tell us that joke about how he was married once.”

How could she say that so nonchalantly? How could she ask him not to worry about her? Didn’t she know that, ever since she arrived, something deep inside him stirred whenever it came to her? That her safety and well-being were always at the forefront of his mind? How did she expect him to not grow concerned when something was clearly wrong yet she still refused to confide in him what it was? When his heart thudded so painfully at the mere thought?

“Please?” She insisted, a sweet smile curling at her lips, and his heartbeat became more erratic. 

He let out a heavy sigh, accepting defeat. “Alright.” He offered his own smile in return. 

As they listened on to Ruel’s tale about his wife—an even more intrepid and cunning Enutrof than him called Arpagone, apparently—, and they lost themselves in their own laughter at the sheer impossibility of the old miser ever getting married, the two demigods placed one hand over the table, next to each other. And if they noticed how, at some point during the story, their fingers brushed against each other and grew closer until their fingertips intertwined, neither said a word. 

.......................................................................................................................

This time, it was Amalia who had to excuse herself. Only, instead of going to the restroom, with Alibert’s reluctant permission, she was buzzing around the restaurant accompanied by Toto, Matou, and Tomato, who were practically drooling over her. Seriously, their boss had had to warn them about getting spit on the food about four times already. 

As the Enutrof observed their interactions, especially the way they followed her around like a bunch of lovesick puppies, Alibert couldn’t help but groan. He brought two fingers to his face and pinched his nose. He honestly should have seen it coming. Not only because of the boys’ entranced reaction the moment they first laid their eyes on the doll, but also because of how they acted when they approached her. 

They’d been deep in conversation, with Amalia trying to explain the fact that, no, Sadida didn’t sleep the day away because they were lazy, but because they were in a deep meditative state as they connected to nature, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Blinking in surprise, she turned around on her stool, only to find herself face-to-face with the nervous, flushed faces of the three young men working for Alibert. If it weren’t because he knew this would negatively impact their effectiveness at their jobs, the Enutrof would have found the way they rubbed the back of their neck, and stammered, and tugged at their collars nervously as they shyly requested a little bit of the demigoddess’ time amusing. 

As it were, however, the irritated twitch of his eyebrow at the seventh complaint begged to differ. Although, as he laid his eyes on the green-haired doll as she fluttered around, her eyes glimmering in curiosity at everything the boys showed her, Alibert couldn’t really blame them. Perhaps Amalia wasn’t his type—and not just because he was old enough to be her father—, but he still could tell when a woman was beautiful. And Amalia was absolutely gorgeous, a kind of wild beauty whose only reasonable explanation was its divine nature. And the way most men and several women would ogle at her as she passed by their side was testament enough of that. 

Although perhaps the biggest piece of evidence was Yugo’s own reaction to the way Amalia unintentionally brought attention to herself. That, too, would be amusing if it weren’t so scary. 

The Eliatrope King was sitting on his own stool, his back to the counter and his arms spread wide at his sides. He was drumming the index finger of his right hand against the wooden board, the action following a furious rhythm that had Alibert on edge, afraid that it might end up piercing through the wood. His brown eyes, focused and unblinking, were currently narrowed in on Matou as he tried to shower Amalia with compliments, though they would immediately change targets if anybody else got too close to the doll or stared at her for too long for his liking. 

Alibert flinched, pulling a face, when Toto leaned to close into Amalia’s personal space, until the two of them were practically flush against each other. He had to bite down a whine when the scowl on Yugo’s face deepened and the first crackles of blue energy made their presence known. 

He honestly didn’t know if Ruel opening his big mouth was a blessing or a curse. 

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type, Yugo.”

The change was instantaneous. One second, the king’s furious gaze was on the scene unfolding in front of him, and the next, he turned to scowl at the old miser. His frantic eyes were wide even as his scowl deepened. It was a little unnerving, if he was being honest with himself. 

“I am not jealous.” Yugo growled. 

“Really?” Ruel arched an eyebrow, amused and seemingly ignoring his best friend’s signs to shut up on purpose. “Then what do you call overzealously watching Amalia’s every move as all eyes are drawn to her?” He chuckled when the Eliatrope’s face twitched at his accusation, before pointing at it. “Or that?”

“I’m not jealous.” Yugo huffed, turning back around to face the restaurant and crossing his arms almost petulantly, his poncho rustling with his movements. “I’m just worried about Amalia, that’s all.”

“C’mon, my boy. She’s a Divine Doll. Pretty sure she can handle herself just fine against some hungry customers…” Ruel insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand, though he recoiled a bit when Alibert sent him a warning glare. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time she was on the receiving end of an admirer’s unwanted advances, unable to stop it…” He spat out, his vision darkening momentarily as memories of Harebourg’s hands tightly gripping the poor doll’s wrist and her terrified face flashed through his mind. 

The Enutrofs shared a look at that piece of information. It didn’t take them long to piece everything together. Could it be that was the reason why Amalia had confessed she felt unworthy of her position, because she had been unable to stop something like that from happening?

While that would indeed explain a lot of things, it still wasn’t enough to shed some light to Yugo’s own behaviour. Alibert knew from his and Adamaï’s various visits that, despite his laid-back and jovial attitude, Yugo was actually fiercely protective of those he cared about, namely his family and subjects. Now, it was plain to see that the same courtesy extended to Amalia, too. However, that couldn’t be all there was to it. 

When he had seen the tears streaming down the doll’s face, the king’s voice was tinged with deep concern as he all but begged her to tell him what was bothering her. And when the Sadida beauty insisted everything was fine, not only didn’t the concern subside, but it was accompanied by frustrated resignation and ill-concealed pain. It was like watching the boy’s heart tear itself open as he pleaded with Amalia to let him in. 

It was clear to see from his intense scrutiny of her that those worries didn’t just go away just because they partook in some more friendly conversation and funny anecdotes. If anything, they had come back full force. 

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, Alibert tried a different approach. 

“Leave the boy alone, Ruel.” He nudged his best friend, who flashed him a confused look. He mouthed ‘Let me handle this’ to him, to which he nodded. “It’s only natural to look after the people you care about.”

Yugo nodded. “Exactly. Thank you, Alibert.”

“Especially when you’re in love with them.”

It was like a record being scratched, the tension in the atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a knife. The silence, deadly. Ruel, his jaw millimetres away from touching the floor, was pulling at the remaining hair he had in utter disbelief, while Yugo’s whole body had stiffened. Even if he had his back to them still and his poncho draped over his shoulders, there was no mistaking his tense posture nor the death grip he had on the wooden counter. Alibert swore he heard how the wood splintered under his fingertips. 

The fact that his voice sounded even at all was honestly impressive. “Alibert, I’m not in love with Amalia.”

A small smirk stretched itself over the Enutrofs lips. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Yugo hissed, his face scrunched up in frustration. He had turned around on his stool so fast, Ruel was actually expecting the force to propel his spin for a little while longer. His grip on the counter was too strong, apparently. 

“Then why are you so worried about her?” Alibert countered as he wiped a mug clean. He nodded towards the doll and her admirers. “You know those three; they might not resist a pretty girl, but they’d never even think about laying a finger on her. And considering Amalia came with you…”

The rest of that sentence went unspoken, but that didn’t mean Yugo didn’t know exactly what the chef meant by that. Even if Matou, Toto, and Tomatou would never hurt a girl to begin with, the fact that Amalia was with him was proof enough that doing so would be extremely ill-advised. His lips pursed into a thin line, he averted his gaze, his fingers drumming on the counter rhythmically as he debated with himself.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally sighed. 

“I’m not jealous.” He repeated for a third time, and even Ruel knew better than to try to contradict him at this point. “But I am concerned. I don’t know why she was crying when I came back from the bathroom,” his brown eyes momentarily flickered towards theirs, giving them one last chance to come clean, but the Enutrofs remained silent, “but something’s definitely wrong. She’s been weird for days, barely eating, not saying much, constantly spacing out… 

“This is the first time in days she’s been back to her old self. Something clearly happened, but whenever I ask her about it, she either insists everything is fine or changes the subject, and it’s driving me crazy!” His fists clenched tightly, the action highlighted by the bandages he wore, threatening to tear at the seams. The rigidness in his shoulders and arched back belied the tension in the air. “Doesn’t she know by now all I want to do is help her? Does she trust me so little?”

Eyes widening slightly at his admission, both Enutrofs exchanged one last look and a nod. Without hesitation, Alibert reached out and placed a hand on the Eliatrope King’s shoulder, urging him to look at him. 

“Yugo, why did you decide to bring Amalia here today?”

Yugo blinked blankly, taken aback by the abrupt change in topic. He answered honestly nonetheless. “It was Ad’s idea. He suggested the best way to help Amalia right now might be to just take her mind off of whatever’s been troubling her.”

“I see. That was smart of Ad.”

Yugo nodded absentmindedly. 

“And, tell us, boy,” This time, it was Ruel who spoke, leaning closer to him. “Would you say your little strategy’s working so far?”

Brow furrowing at his question, the Eliatrope King quickly turned his head around to look for Amalia. When he found her, he couldn’t help the giddy fluttering in his chest or the warmth bubbling up in his stomach at the sight before him. 

Amalia was currently talking to Alibert’s employees—which caused a certain level of irritation to flare up within the Eliatrope, especially given the lovestruck look on their faces—, but as she did so, that wonderful smile of hers that he found so hard to resist, that smile that had been rare to see for the past few days, was finally back on her face. The doll was chatting animatedly with whomever would listen, which included several of Alibert’s patrons who seemed to find her presence and curiosity endlessly refreshing. She would laugh, and clasp her hands in excitement, and her eyes would glimmer in child-like wonder. And if any of them got too cocky, she would simply roll her eyes with a smirk and sass them back in their place. 

The sight alone was enough to fill him with an inexplicable feeling of peace, bliss emanating from his every pore as his previous anxieties left his body. 

That was the Amalia he had been desperately looking for. The one he had longed for these past few days. The Amalia who would spend hours talking to him about every topic under the sun. The Amalia who would blow him away whenever she showed him what she could do, or just by being herself. The Amalia who, just by watching him train as intently as she did, always managed to make him feel like the most important person in the Krosmoz. 

The Amalia he knew and loved. 

The realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks. 

Eyes wide and heartbeat racing from the revelation, the blood rushing to his ears as his whole body flushed, Yugo almost didn’t hear Alibert when he said:

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help; on the contrary, it shows you care. But, sometimes, the best way to help is not by doing what we think is right and intervening, but by simply being there as we let the other person take care of their business themselves.”

“Maybe Amalia isn’t ready to tell you what’s on her mind just yet,” Ruel continued, taking a swig out of his drink as he leaned back on his stool, one leg over his other knee. “But I’m sure she will one day. You just gotta be patient, Yugo.”

“And don’t beat yourself up like that.” Alibert scolded him gently, his hands bawled at his hips as he flashed the Eliatrope a mock-warning glare. “I’m pretty sure Amalia will agree with me that you’re doing more than enough just by trying to cheer her up.”

Both Alibert and Ruel rolled their eyes to themselves, thinking back to the doll’s own self-disparaging attitude from before. Dear Enutrof, those two were practically soulmates!

For his part, Yugo just remained quiet, his mind blown from those recent revelations about himself. Could it be true? Could he be in love with Amalia? He wasn’t so sure. He hadn’t really been looking for a relationship this current incarnation, especially with everything that happened with the Mechasms. And he would rather die than ask Qilby about his past love life only to have his infuriatingly observant brother needling him over the possibility of having fallen for Amalia. 

He was so lost in thought, he didn’t even register how his gaze had been set on Amalia this whole time. He was only broken out of his stupor when, just then, the doll sensed his eyes on her. Even as the people around her kept on conversing, the Divine Doll swivelled around just enough to face him more fully. She raised one dark-skinned hand to subtly wave at him as she flashed him a beaming smile that turned his insides to mush. 

His face scarlet as his heart threatened to burst out of his chest, Yugo awkwardly returned the wave and the smile, though he was sure his was much more dopey than charming. There was no escaping it now.

He was in love with Amalia. 

................................................................................................................

“That was so much fun!” Amalia exclaimed, having finally returned from following Matou, Toto, and Tomato around. “Alibert, your customers are the best. They were all so kind and interesting!”

The innkeeper chuckled fondly. “Why, thank you, my Lady. Hearing that from you makes this old mayor proud. I will make sure to let my citizens know they have your approval.”

“Please do, they deserve it.” She nodded with so much refinement despite the silliness of the situation, the Enutrof couldn’t help but chortle. She then turned to her close friend, “Yugo, you were right. The Crispy Gobball Inn is the best restaurant in Emelka!”

“Told you so.” He smiled back at her.

However, there was something different in Yugo’s expression. Even though Amalia had come to know and deeply appreciate each and every one of the faces the Eliatrope King was capable of pulling, this one in particular managed to tug at her heartstrings in ways no other had ever done before. There was this softness, this tenderness, in his gaze that made her insides burn, the fire rising up to her cheeks. The sweet grin that stretched over his lips was small, yet it captured so much more than anything else the doll had ever seen. But she couldn’t pinpoint just what made his current expression so special. 

All she knew is that when Yugo looked at her like that, he made her feel like she was the most important person in the world—in his world. And she found she rather liked that. She just wished she knew what caused it. 

The spell he had her under was broken by the sound of Ruel clearing his throat. “If you really liked it that much, Amalia, then don’t forget to leave a generous tip for the meal. Old Alibert here will appreciate it.” He winked mischievously at her while he jabbed his thumb in the innkeeper’s direction. 

“Don’t listen to him, Lady Amalia.” Alibert waved him off dismissively. “The pleasure of your company was payment enough. This one’s on the house, don’t worry.” He sent her a wink of his own and a winning smile, causing the doll to giggle cutely while Ruel looked like he’d been personally affronted.

“Excuse me?!” He all but bellowed. He raised to his feet and slammed his hands down on the counter demandingly. “Are my ears playing tricks on me, or did you just say they don’t have to pay for their food, even though you’ve been pestering me about paying for years?”

“That’s precisely the point, old friend.” Alibert shot back, not missing a beat. “This is the first time Lady Amalia comes to my restaurant; I can afford not charging her once or twice. You, on the other hand, have been eating for free for about two decades. Seriously, if I had a kama for every time you skipped out on paying, you would have paid off your bet by now!”

As the two old friends went back and forth with their usual bickering, Yugo and Amalia exchanged a look, before they both dissolved into a fit of snickers at their childish antics despite their advanced age. Just then, Yugo was about to speak when the roar of thunder in the distance caught his attention, the ears of his hat perking up as he registered the sound, on high alert. 

It looked like those clouds he’d seen earlier were about to finally let loose the downpour. Which meant it was time they returned home. 

He turned to the Divine Doll. “Amalia, I think we should go home.”

She let out a disappointed whine. “Awww, already? But we’re having so much fun!”

He flashed her a sad smile. “I know. But if we don’t hurry up, we might find ourselves in the middle of the storm, soaked to the bone.” Although he still didn’t know if Divine Dolls had bones to begin with. 

The small pout remained on Amalia’s face for a little while longer, until it melted into resignation as she let out a heavy sigh when she finally registered the howling winds coming from outside. “Okay, I suppose you’re right.”

“Oh, leaving already?” Alibert said, perking up when the two of them got up from their stools. 

“Yeah, we have a bit of a walk before we can make it home and we wouldn’t like to get caught up in the rain.” Yugo explained. 

“Well, if that’s the case, don’t let me keep you!” The kindly innkeeper said, before clasping both hands on the Eliatrope’s shoulders. “And come more often, you know I love your visits.”

Yugo chuckled, his own smile widening as he brought Alibert into a hug. “I’ll try. You still have to teach me all your cooking secrets, after all!”

“Word of the wise, when it comes to bread, ask anyone but Alibert for help.” Ruel chimed in, standing up as well to bid them goodbye. “These old bones have no equal in the kitchen, but bread’s always been his Achilles’ Heel.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. See you later, Ruel.” Yugo told the old man while Alibert shot a dirty look at his best friend. Then, the former settled his gaze back on Amalia and his expression softened. 

“Well, my Lady, it’s been a pleasure having you in my humble establishment.” He told her honestly, a genuine smile on his lips. “Next time His Majesty decides to deem us with his presence, if you feel up to it, don’t hesitate to tag along.” He finished with a wink. 

Amalia giggled, waves of affection for this wonderful man coursing through her veins. 

“Will do, Alibert. I promise.” Then, she took him by surprise when she threw herself into his arms to hug him tightly. “Thank you for everything, really.”

The chef caught the hidden meaning of her words and grinned widely, returning the hug. “Anytime, Amalia. Anytime.”

When she broke off the hug, she turned to Ruel and offered him a polite bow. “It was great to meet you, too, Ruel. Thank you so much for telling me all about your adventures.”

“Next time you come around, I’ll tell you about the time I met a young Osamodas who swore she used to work as Kérubim Crepin’s cleaning lady.” He promised with a wink. 

“I’m looking forward to it.” She giggled.

“Amalia, are you ready?” Yugo asked her, leaning closer to her with his poncho open, directing her attention to the pocket she’d been in earlier. To be honest, the main reason he suggested she transformed again was because, judging from the sound of rain drops coming from outside, it had already began to rain, and he knew the doll wouldn’t appreciate running under the rain and wetting wet, nor going through one of his portals just to reach the Zaap at the outskirts of town. 

Her gaze trailing down to the pocket and back to his face, Amalia nodded, understanding it was for the best. With a hum, she disappeared behind a puff of smoke and reappeared in her rag doll form, which caused Ruel’s jaw to drop as his eyes flickered back and forth between her and a nonchalant Alibert. 

“If you think that’s shocking, you should see how she changes back into her other form.”

After scooping Amalia up and placing her inside his pocket, Yugo hastily waved them goodbye and thanked them for everything one last time before going out of the door. With the two demigods gone, Ruel plopped back down in his seat and shook his head with the certainty of someone who knew what he was talking about. 

“How long do you think it will take them to realise they love each other?”

Alibert smiled, leaning on the counter and closer to his old friend. “I think they’re getting there. Sparks flew whenever their eyes met.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Ruel agreed, shrugging. “I’m just saying, they seemed to be firmly in the Denial stage of their relationship.”

“Give them time. You can’t rush these things. Although…” He trailed off, his lips twitching into a playful smirk. “I wonder if Yugo’s noticed he carries Amalia right next to his heart.”

The two of them shared a laugh over that. They already had a very good feeling the next time those two walked through the door, it’d be hand-in-hand and with good news to share.

 Alibert’s smirk dropped into a stern expression when he noticed the way his customers kept gaping at the place Yugo and Amalia had occupied until recently, clearly in disbelief at the sight of a living, breathing Divine Doll. And one that had been talking to them just a few moments ago, at that. 

“If any of you speaks a word of any of this to anyone, I’m raising your taxes.” Alibert threatened, his tone serious and no-nonsense. With that, everyone flinched and turned back to their own meals and conversations, acting like nothing happened. 

The old innkeeper couldn’t help but smirk in satisfaction. Being the mayor had its perks, sometimes. 

........................................................................................................................

Yugo gently deposited Amalia back down on her balcony, letting go of her waist while he kept holding her hand as he did so. Normally, he would have just teleported them there, but he figured, since she already knew he could fly—although she didn’t know how—, there was no harm done in taking the scenery route. Besides, even though she seemed to have no trouble when it came to Zaap Portals, he didn’t have the heart to make her sick right as they returned home. 

“What a day!” Amalia said as she stretched, her arms up as her back let out an audible pop! “No wonder you love that place so much, Yugo. Alibert is really the best.”

“Yeah, I’m really lucky to have met him. And he’s right, though, I should get Adamaï to visit soon, too.”

“Well, next time you go to Emelka, let me know. No way I’m staying here and letting you two have all the fun!” Amalia placed her hands on her hips as she leaned forward, her voice dripping with mock sternness as she pretended to reprimand the king. 

Knowing this, Yugo just raised his palms up with a smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” It was his turn to lean in closer in a stage whisper. “Though between you and me, something tells me Alibert would cook me alive if I didn’t bring you with us next time.”

The doll shrugged, a smirk on her lips. “Well, since he couldn’t cook Adamaï last time…”

The two of them managed to hold their laughter in for all of two seconds, before they couldn’t take it anymore and broke down cackling at the poor dragon’s expense. Without the need for words, they agreed that would be their own little inside joke. Adamaï would not take it well if he learned they were laughing at his misfortune behind his back. 

Still holding her stomach, which ached from laughing so much, the doll wiped a tear off her face and smiled up at the Eliatrope. “I had so much fun today, Yugo. Thank you so much for taking me to Emelka. I… I really loved it.”

“You’re very welcome, Amalia.” Yugo’s own smile morphed into a concerned expression, his eyebrows furrowed as he regarded her intently. He had to ask. “Are you feeling better now?”

Amalia was about to deny ever feeling bad when the sincerity and hope in his eyes stopped her in her tracks. His gaze was practically begging her to be honest with him, to finally open up about the insecurities and troubles plaguing her mind ever since her last encounter with Efrim. And though a part of Amalia wanted nothing more than to tell him exactly what happened, another, louder part of herself reminded her of her promise to Nora. 

Not only did they agree learning the truth would needlessly worry Yugo and cause conflict between him and Efrim, which was the last thing the Eliatropes needed at the moment, for the Council of Six to be anything but a united front, but Amalia was beginning to think it truly was for the best from a diplomatic standpoint. She already had Efrim against her, she couldn’t afford to lose Nora’s support as well by betraying her trust. If she wanted to fulfil her role as efficiently as possible, she needed to have as many members of the Council of Six on her side as she could. 

Then there was the fact that, needlessly harsh and cruel as he had been, there was no denying the young dragon had been right when he accused her of relying too much on Yugo. As much as she appreciated his help, as much as she appreciated him, it was about time the doll learned to stand on her own two feet. And her conversation with Alibert and Ruel had been very enlightening in that regard. 

She was Sadida’s eleventh doll, and their people were fearless warriors. As such, she would do everything in her power to become worthy of the Sadida’s admiration and trust, as well as the Eliatropes’. And, thanks to Alibert, she finally had an idea on how to achieve that. That alone made her feel much better about herself and more confident in her own abilities. Because she now had a purpose. 

Perhaps that was also the reason why she found herself emboldened enough to do what she did next. 

Exhaling through her nose calmly, Amalia stood up on her tippy toes and reached forward, coming to place a kiss on the corner of Yugo’s lip. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard how his breath hitched at the contact. 

Breaking away from him, she smiled widely up at his awestruck expression, wider and more honestly than she had done so in days. “Yes, Yugo. I’m feeling much better now, thank you. And I think I’ll go to talk to Glip and Baltazar in the morning.”

[pursuedbyamemoryy]

Hope you're having a good day/night! I come with a request if you want to write it (if not then that's cool!) What about a Charles Smith x reader where it's like 2 or three months after leaving with him to help the Wapiti people and reader finds out shes pregnant, and is super worried to tell him because of everything going on, of course he finds out though.

a promising future

☆ thank you for requesting! i love charles so much and i had fun writing this, i hope you enjoy reading <3 !!

warnings - pregnancy ( lmk if i'm missing any ! )

w/c - 1.8k

it had been nearly three months since the downfall of the van der linde gang. you and charles had decided to stay up north with the wapiti people and help them get to safety, rather than go back to beaver hollow. this gang had meant a lot to you, and the fact that it was falling apart was hard for you. you were close to so many members, including a couple who had unfortunately already passed away. you knew it was inevitable, but you had decided you’d rather not see the absolute end, so you stayed with charles. he was all you needed anyways, he was the love of your life, and he meant everything to you.

you and charles helped rains fall and the wapiti people pack up and move up north to canada, helping them get away from colonel favours and the army, in hopes of giving them as much freedom and peace as possible. you were happy to help, rains fall and his people were nothing but kind to you, and they deserved the best they could get. however with the stress of helping them out, you started to feel sick, and oh so exhausted. it’s just stress. i’m not resting enough. i haven’t been drinking enough water. you tried to convince yourself. deep down you knew that wasn’t true, but you didn’t want to add any more stress to you or charles’ life.

you and charles hadn’t exactly been careful when you’d slept together recently. you hadn’t had much time to yourselves, so you took advantage of every moment alone, which resulted in neither of you caring about where he finished. you had been around when abigail was pregnant with jack, and you had a lot of the same symptoms she did back then. there was no doubt in your mind that you were pregnant, and you were terrified.

you wanted to tell charles, you really did, but with everything going on these past few months you could never find a good time. you figured the last thing he needed right now was to be told that he was going to be a father, that you had a baby on the way. you knew that normally, under any other circumstances he’d be happy. but now he was working day and night, doing what he could to help the tribe get settled, helping with the sick, and getting them what they needed. you didn’t want him to worry about you and your baby on top of that.

you knew charles had noticed you were out of sorts, of course he had. he was very observant when it came to you especially, and you caught him looking at you worriedly here and there over the past few weeks. he knew you’d come to him when you were ready to talk, so he didn’t pry.

you were lost in your thoughts, helping with the laundry with some other tribe members. you heard someone come up behind you and rest their hand on your shoulder, you knew immediately who it was. he brushed your hair to the side, kissing your neck gently. you leaned into his touch, humming happily.

“hi charles” you said with a smile.

“hi, my love,” he said, placing another soft kiss to your jaw. “i was going to go out and hunt and get something for dinner, i was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

you smile, and nod. “yeah sure, i’m just about finished with laundry anyways.” you wrung the water out of the shirt you were washing, laying it out on a rock to dry. standing up, you wiped your hands on your skirt and turned around to face charles, grabbing his hand as he led you to your horses.

“have you found any good hunting spots around here yet?” you say, patting taima gently and making your way over to your own horse, tightening his saddle and giving him a sugar cube.

“i found one decent spot close to here that had a bunch of deer, other than that i haven’t had much time to hunt.” he made sure taima’s saddle was secure and mounted her, waiting for you to do the same.

you hummed in response, mounting your own horse and riding beside charles out of the tribe’s current camp.

the ride was quiet, but not awkward. there was a lot of comfortable silence between the two of you, which you never minded. he led you a short while away from camp to a grassy clearing next to a thick grove of trees, where you saw a herd of deer lazily grazing.

he held his finger up to his lips, motioning you to be quiet so you didn’t scare away the deer. you nodded, slowly and quietly getting off your horse and drawing your bow from your saddle bag, charles doing the same.

you crouched down next to him, stealthily making your way closer to the deer. you got close enough that you’d be able to land a good shot, but still far enough away that you wouldn’t scare the herd. you both drew your bows, aiming at different deer. charles landed a clean shot, and while yours wasn’t as clean you both managed to take down the two deer with just one arrow each.

charles looked over at you with a smile, “nice work as always, my love.” he grabbed one of your hands, kissing the back of it gently.

“i could say the same to you.” you said with a smile.

you both stand up, making your way over to the deer, slinging the one you killed over the back of your horse and securing it. usually a quick hunt such as this wasn’t too tiring, but you were quickly starting to feel exhausted. you watched as charles secured his deer on taima’s rump. he then made his way over to you, looking into your eyes deeply, as if he could read all your thoughts.

“are you feeling okay? i know we’ve had a lot going on but you seem... distracted?” he took your hands in his.

you took a deep breath. you needed to tell him. he deserved to know. god, how do you even tell someone this? would he be upset? would he be excited? your mind was racing, your hands shaking in his. you started to tear up, your anxiety taking over.

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he pulled you in for a hug, running his hand up and down your back comfortingly.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, trying to collect yourself and your thoughts. charles didn’t press further, he just continued to hold you until you were ready to talk.

you took another deep breath and took a step back, looking him in the eyes. tell him. he looked worried. tell him. he continued to run his hand up and down your back comfortingly. tell. him.

“i’m pregnant.”

he stiffened slightly, his eyes going wide. “really?” he looked you up and down slowly. “you’re actually…?”

you nodded, looking away from him and at some random spot in the dirt. “yes. i’m sorry, charles.” you said quietly.

“sorry? my love, why are you sorry? this is great news!” he replied immediately, his hands moving to cup your face gently.

“we’ve had so much going on lately… i was worried that you’d be upset because we’ve been so stressed between everything that’s happened between the gang and the tribe...” you rambled, pausing for a moment. “you’re happy then?” you looked back at him, your eyes starting filling with tears once again, this time happy ones.

“of course i’m happy. sure we’ve been busy, but i love you, and i’m more than excited to start a family with you. in fact i’ve been wanting to start a family with you, and now that we’re out of the gang, we don’t have as much to worry about. no more bounties on our heads and pinkertons breathing down our necks.” he grinned. “and i have to be honest, i suspected you might be pregnant, but i hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to you about it.” he chuckled, wiping a stray tear that slipped down your cheek. he looked you in the eyes, then leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

he wasn’t upset at all. he wants this, he wants a family. he’s happy. you kissed him back, wrapping your arms behind his neck.

you let out a sob as you pulled away, tears flowing down your cheeks. “i’m so glad.” you laughed, relieved. of course he was happy, why wouldn’t he be?

you giggled as he peppered kisses across your face, kissing away your tears. he pulled you in for another kiss on the lips, soft, sweet, and passionate. you didn’t pull away until you were both out of breath, resting your forehead against his.

“i love you.” you sighed.

“i love you so much.” you stayed like that for a moment before he reached into his satchel and pulled out a little envelope excitedly. “i almost forgot to tell you, i got us a place. it’s not much as of right now, but i’ll fix it up real nice for us. for our family.” he showed you the deed, which confirmed his statement.

you grinned, kissing him again. “oh charles, this is wonderful, thank you. thank you so much. how did you even afford this?”

“i’ve been saving as much as i can from all the jobs we used to go on while we were in the gang. it wasn’t much at first, but it added up.” he smiled. “we’ll still help out the tribe, of course, but i thought it was about time we got a place of our own. i want our baby to live a better life then we have, and i’ll do anything to make that happen, you hear?” he grabbed your chin gently. “i’ll do anything to make you and our baby happy, because if you’re happy, im happy.” he pulled you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head gently.

you stayed like that for a while, the rest of the world around you forgotten. for all you cared it was just you and charles in that moment. eventually as the sun started to sink below the trees, you decided it was time to head back to camp, lest the spoils of your hunt go to waste. you mounted your horses and made your way back to camp together, happier then you had been in a while. for once your future looked promising, and you were more than happy to be spending it with charles, and eventually your baby.

[mystic-writings]

remember the nights | chapter one — new beginnings

WORD COUNT — 2,403

WARNINGS — none

NOTES — i'm legit sobbing i can't believe this series is already 2 years old

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

This morning was the last one you’d spend in your childhood home. After 17 years of memories, you were saying goodbye to the place you were overjoyed to call home. It wasn’t bad — that was something you were sure of — but it was upsetting. This place is where you came home after being born, where you spent birthdays and holidays and had almost all of your firsts in. You learned to walk here, to talk, to read. It was here that you decided you wanted to be a ballerina, only to decide you wanted to be a teacher just a week later. It’s where your mom lived, where you lived. And now, for a very good reason, you were giving it up. 

Your father was trading away his two-bedroom, floor to ceiling windowed, eleventh floor condo for a lovely blue suburban just a few hours away. No more big city, no more 10 hour shifts at the office. Finally, your dad was getting married.

His fiance, Maggie, was the most wonderful woman you’d ever met, and damn near perfect for him. Her sons, who look nearly identical to her, were the most well-mannered teenage boys you’d met. Thomas, her eldest, was the same age as you — give or take a few months — and one of your closest friends. 

Chuck was her youngest, and was turning 13 early next year. He was shy, but once he had warmed up to you, he became the funniest kid you’d ever talked to. He shared all of his interests with you, even if you didn’t know what he was talking about half of the time. 

Over the past three years, you’d had plenty of time to get used to Maggie and her sons, seeing as they’d spent every other weekend here in the city for the past year or so, so it wasn’t as though you were completely uprooting your life. You’d already seen them as family, and have for a while. Every time they came to town, you and Thomas would make the most of things, wandering the city for things to do or look at or buy until well after sundown, while Chuck normally spent his time with Maggie and your dad. 

You had no reason to be sad, and you weren’t. It was just nostalgia, rooted deep within your chest, of the few vital memories you had left of your mother that had all taken place in this condo. 

“I know this is hard for you, honey,” your father said as you carried your last box of items through the living room. 

“I’ll be okay dad, don’t worry.” You assured him with a childlike smile. “This is a good thing for us, you know? And I’ll have Thomas and Teresa to help me out, so I won’t be completely lonely and friendless.” 

Your father nodded, his lips pressed together tightly as he rested a hand on your shoulder. Whether he was comforting you or trying to comfort himself, you didn’t know. Still, he took the box from your arms and walked out the front door, leaving you to take one last look around the place that had once been your home before walking out yourself, closing the door and leaving that part of your life behind. 

Though the drive took nearly three hours, it felt like half an hour. Most of your time in the passenger seat of your father’s sleek black Camaro was spent messaging your best friends about how much you already missed them, and replying to other school friends to thank them for their well-wishes and promises to meet up soon, even though you knew it would never follow through. 

Traffic-jammed highways quickly turned into two-lane blacktop, surrounded by farmland and forest, which then faded into cookie-cutter homes and family-owned stores. It would be quite an adjustment compared to bodegas, high rises and packed streets, but you knew you had no choice. 

You’d been in this town quite a few times before, and the route to your new home was quite familiar, seeing as some weekends it would be you and your father making the trip instead of Maggie and her family. A left turn on the main road, right after the only cafe in town, then a right turn, then another left. 

Maggie’s house was tucked into the right corner of the cul-de-sac, and it still looked as charmingly beautiful as ever. With dark, gray-blue siding, a lovely white painted front porch capped with a shingled awning, and deep red brick supporting the foundation, it was like it was built straight out of a fairytale. The garage extension jutted out of the house, and its wall marked one end of the porch, while the other was supported by a bay window that looked into the kitchen. To the very left, a white-painted fence and gate led into the backyard that, while you couldn’t tell from the front, was fairly large, and decorated entirely by a beautiful garden, wicker furniture, and a light gray brick fire pit. 

The second the car was in park, you were hopping out of the vehicle, ready to pull your bags from the trunk and bring them to your new room. It had been the office/storage room for Thomas and Chuck, but Maggie cleared it out as soon as they told you that they were engaged. There was a room downstairs near Chuck’s that wasn’t being used, but it was isolated and therefore would be your father and Maggie’s shared office so that he can work entirely from home. 

In her last FaceTime a few days ago, Maggie showed you the room, already filled with the furniture you’d sent from New York weeks prior. One window inside faced the front of the house, and the other faced the side yard and part of the neighbors backyard. 

You pulled your duffle bag from the trunk just as the moving van that had been following you from the city parked on the street. Thomas and Maggie had stepped outside to help bring boxes in, and you greeted them both with short hugs and a wide smile before asking where Chuck was. 

“He’s inside,” Thomas rolled his eyes. “Been hiding in his room all day.” 

There wasn’t much heavy lifting to be done, since your bed, desk, dresser, and nightstand table had already been moved in, and the boxes contained mostly clothes, personal items, and whatever technology your dad needed to be brought with him. The rest was sold or given away, considering Maggie had a house full of stuff on her own. 

By mid-afternoon, boxes covered the floor and most other surfaces in your room, and you were elbow deep in a box of hangers and whatever clothing wouldn’t fit into your bags when Thomas poked his head in the door. 

“Having fun?” You could hear his mischievous smile in his words as he stepped inside. 

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. Does untangling a mess of hangers and tank tops sound like fun to you?”

“Nope,” Thomas winced, crossing the room and dropping onto your bare mattress. “Glad you’re here, though.” 

“Me too,” you said, “I think.” 

Thomas lifted his head to look at you. “You think?”

“Well, I only know you and Teresa, and I’ve never had to deal with living someplace where everything closes at 7pm.”

“Everything does not close at 7pm,” he scoffed. “The diner doesn’t close until 10pm, and the convenience store closes at 8.”

“Oh, wow, a whole extra hour for the convenience store,” you mocked the boy, who scoffed once more at you. “My point is, I have a lot to get used to, and it’s not exactly like I can say  I don’t like it here and everything goes back to the way it was.” 

Thomas sat up. “You’ll be fine, I swear. You’ve got me and Teresa, plus you’ll be meeting our friends in a few days.”

You only nodded, working through the mess of clothes and hangers as Thomas fell silent for a few moments, typing on his phone for a bit. 

“Do you wanna do something with me and Teresa?” He asked as you began putting the hangers into your closet. 

You immediately perked up at the mention of Teresa. “Of course I would. I haven’t seen her in months,” you said, “Why? What does she want to do?”

“We’ll probably take you to the cafe, or go to hers for a movie night,” Thomas said. “There’s not much to do around here.” 

“That’s fine,” you shrugged, “I’ll be fine with whatever, you know that.”

Thomas made a quick noise of acknowledgement and returned to typing on his phone, before getting up and walking past you toward the door. “Alright, well she’s down. I’ll come get you in like a few hours, maybe.”

“Oh-” you started, looking at Thomas as he left the room. “Okay, then,”

You continued to untangle and pack away your clothes, mind wandering to almost any thought that crossed your mind. Shortly after Thomas’ departure, though, a knock sounded at your bedroom door before opening. In the doorway stood Chuck, silently observing the room now that you had begun to move into it. 

“Chuckie!” It was his least favorite nickname by far, especially when Thomas used it on him, but you couldn’t help yourself. To you, he’d always be 9 years old, hiding behind his mother’s leg in your condo’s living room. 

You stopped what you were doing as he stepped into the room, meeting you by the bed to greet you with a wordless hug. He ended up helping you out with the hangers, talking adamantly with you about how his friends were spending the night next weekend to watch  Star Wars with him, and how now he and your dad could do more stuff together since he wouldn’t have to wait for the weekends to see him anymore. 

After the box full of hangers was organized and put away, Chuck left and took the broken down box with him. You opened the one you’d put all of your knick knacks and other items in, beginning to organize them around the room when you pulled out your favorite mug, wrapped delicately in layers of bubble wrap and newspaper. 

You decided to take it down to the kitchen immediately, peeling the layers from it as you headed back downstairs. It was a gift from your grandmother, a white mug with a black handle, a silhouette of a ballerina painted onto one side. She gave it to you when you were nine, a tribute to your mother, who used to be a ballerina herself. 

You found a space for it on the bottom shelf of the cupboard of mugs, smiling gently at it. Somehow, this was what cemented the fact that you were in a new home. That you’d gone through a positive change for once. For the most part, the life you used to live was long gone, and you had much more to look forward to, despite how terrified you were.

The next couple of hours included you dressing your bed in its sheets and pillows and blankets, plus rearranging and re-organizing things in your room. It was a little small, sure, but you didn’t mind, as everything fit perfectly. Now, all you were doing was waiting for Thomas to get you to bring you to Teresa’s house.

When he finally did, the sun was beginning to set and Maggie was helping your dad organize his DVDs in the entertainment center under the TV. They muttered quick goodbyes as you headed out the door, hopping into Thomas’ old truck and heading to Teresa’s house. 

You arrived at the familiar white-siding home in no time, and you already had Teresa in your line of sight before you had closed the door to the truck. You both ran for one another, crashing into one another in an excited, bone-crushing hug in the walkway to her front porch. 

“Jeez, why don’t you greet me like that, babe?” Thomas said, casually walking up the pathway. 

Teresa pulled back a bit, glaring over your shoulder. “Because I see you every day, Thomas. I haven’t seen N/n since June.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Thomas muttered under his breath, obviously defeated as a pout formed on his face. 

You and Teresa laughed before the brunette girl spoke up, grabbing your hand. “Come on, I’ve got everything set up inside. Movies, snacks, and I ordered pizza from the takeout place across town. I wanna hear everything I’ve missed out on since I saw you last.” 

Thomas trailed behind you as Teresa led you inside her home, despite knowing you’d been there quite often over the years. 

You spent over four hours at Teresa’s house. By the time you were pulling back into the driveway, the entire town had gone quiet, lights turned out as everyone wound down for the night or were already asleep. 

The first hour of your time was spent catching Teresa up on anything interesting that had happened in New York, then she and Thomas did the same for you. They also took the time to explain the school and how things worked in a small town as best as they could, but you quickly decided you’d just learn as things went on. You managed to watch two movies, devouring whatever food Teresa had set out for the three of you relatively quickly. 

Once you stepped inside, it was quite clear that everyone else in the house was already asleep. You and Thomas managed to sneak upstairs without waking anyone, bidding one another a quick ���goodnight’ before heading to your own rooms. 

Soon after, you found yourself in an oversized fundraiser shirt your dad got from a work trip to Arizona years ago, laying in bed as your eyes scanned and took in every inch of your room. Thinking over every detail, about how different it felt, how this new space held every aspect of you and your life up until this moment. And as you thought, you felt your heart grow and swell within your chest, getting lighter and lighter. 

This town, these people, had yet to prove themselves to you, to show you if you belonged or not, and you were eager to see it all, to experience everything it had to offer. All you had to do was give it a chance.

series masterlist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine (open!)

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x student!reader - trespassing innocently

Hello! I'm glad you keep writing. I like your stories very much. 💜 So I also have a request for you. Would you like to write a Evershed x teenage Reader story? Mister Evershed finds out that a homeless teenager is sleeping at school at night and disappears in time for the school to start every day. He confronts reader and tries to help. Thanks 😊 - Anon💜

If there was one thing you knew about the Ackley bridge, it was which building lacked any decent security, which for the most part was nearly all of them.

But the only building with food, and access to showers and running warm water was the school, and it wasn’t hard to keep breaking into it.

Unlike the other schools, since Ackley bridge wasn’t as posh or well funded as them, it had next to no security measures in place, which made it easier for you.

It was easy enough to slip in at the end of the day before the last of the teachers went home, and easy enough for you to leave in the morning.

Before moving into the people you spent time carefully watching it, creating rough timeframes for you to be able to come and go as you pleased.

There had been a few close calls but you managed to get out undetected.

And it had become a shelter for you during the harsh winter, somewhere warm for you to hide out.

And today was no different, you made your way over the shut gates, and you jogged over to the school, walking around for the usual door you came through.

It was easy enough to get open, since it never shut properly anyway.

Shivering a little bit, you rubbed your hands together and blew into them, trying to bring some of the warmth back to your fingers.

The lights were off, and you slowly started to make your way down the hallways towards the locker rooms where you hid.

“Why have you been breaking into my school?”

You jumped, letting out a small shriek you spun around and stared at the man who was shining a torch at you.

He had been hiding in one of the classrooms and you just walked right past him.

“You’re just a teenager…” he whispered in disbelief.

“Don’t call the cops man I’m going, I won’t come back.”

You began to back away from him.

“No, we’re going to talk about this. You’re not one of my students.”

“Look, I’m going forget about it.”

You looked around, trying to map your way around in your head so you could find the closest exit.

“Why do you keep coming back to the school? What’s your name?”

“I ain’t dumb man, I’m not giving you my name.”

“Alright I’ll start, I’m Mr Evershed.”

“Still ain’t having it.”

“Look we have months worth of footage of you coming in after everyone goes, I just want to talk that’s all. Please?” Mr Evershed asked.

You back up another few steps and you glanced out the corner of your eye to the fire escape at the far end of the hallway.

“Please it’s cold outside, if you need a place to stay we can find you one.”

Without another word to him you ran straight back out into the rain, going to find somewhere else to stay.

You settled for archways under closed shops, a bridge, some equipment in some parks.

And that’s how the next few weeks went for you, you actually avoided that school and everyone inside it.

As you were settling under an archway, you heard the sound of someone approaching and you jumped up.

“I’ve been trying to find you, you’re really hard to find you know.”

“Oh it’s you.”

You sat back down and looked at the man approaching, umbrella in one hand, and a takeaway cup in the other hand.

Mr Evershed smiled at you and held the cup out to you.

“Don’t take food or drinks from strangers, no offence or ought.”

“No it’s alright I understand, are you hungry?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Alright, here, if you are.”

He set the cup down and pulled some change out of his pocket and held his hand out to you.

You looked at him and narrowed your eyes a little bit and he nodded his head.

“Go on, it’s alright.”

You reached out your hand to him, and he gave you the change, and you quickly hid it in your bag, and then looked back up at him.

“Do you have anywhere you can go?”

“Well obviously if I did I wouldn’t be sat here in the rain would I?” You snapped.

“Right, yes. Sorry. I meant is there somewhere dry you can stay? A hostel? Anything like that?”

“Again, same answer moron.”

“Alright, no need for that.”

Mr Evershed sighed and he looked around.

“Come on, it’s freezing out here, can we at least go get you some stuff from the shops, more clothes or blankets.”

“No use they’ll get ruined.”

“That’s fine, you’ll at least be warm enough.”

You narrowed your eyes a little but at him, and he offered you a gentle smile.

“Come on, I don’t want to see a teenager out here freezing like this. I understand you won’t come with me, but what if I get you a few things?”

You finally agreed and went with him to one of the more busier shops, and he helped you look for warmer things, a jacket, a couple of blankets, some food and some bottles of water.

Mr Evershed helped you carry them out and he looked around.

“I can’t let you back into that school, but maybe we can find somewhere for you to stay tonight?” He asked.

“It’ll be fine, thanks though.”

He glanced down at you.

“I can’t let you just walk away.”

“You can’t force me to go with you neither. So, later Evershed.”

With that you took the bag and ran away from him.

Every so often he would be able to seek you out again, usually once or twice a week, and after three weeks he found you laid on a bench in the rain.

“I got you a tent for a reason.”

“Some kids destroyed it.”

You looked up at him and sat up, running a hand over your face to clear the water.

“So, what up Evershed?”

“You ready to tell me your name yet?”

“Nope.”

He sighed a little and held up a bag of food and drinks for you, and you set it next to you on the bench.

He walked over and looked down at you.

“Come on, I hate knowing your out here living on the streets, I just want to help you. Maybe we can get in touch with your school?”

“Don’t go to school, never got enrolled.”

Mr Evershed sighed and nodded his head and he held out a bit of paper.

“my phone number in case you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.”

You took the paper and stuff it into your pocket.

“It’s not so bad when you get used to it I guess.”

“How about joining the school then?”

You laughed.

“Absolutely not.”

“Even if it means getting inside for hours?”

“Yeah no I’ll pass.”

“Alright, but if you change your mind you know how to get in touch.”

You nodded and he left, leaving the umbrella with you.

And it was a while before he saw you again, it was late February when he saw you lingering outside the school gate as students were leaving.

They looked at you and laughed, and talked, and you looked at the headteacher before spinning around and walking away.

Mr Evershed excused himself and jogged down to the gate and looked around but couldn’t find you.

Then after he left he searched all the normal spots for you to no avail, and as he was about to head home he got a notification on his phone.

He looked at it and chuckled a little.

Getting in his car, he made his way back to the school and walked in to find you laying on the chairs In reception.

“I told you stop breaking in.”

“You upgraded your cameras.”

“I did, because somebody keeps sneaking in.”

You grinned a little up at him and sat up, pushing your hood down and you looked up at him.

You were covered in dirt, and Mr Evershed sighed, sitting next to you.

“You’ve been missing.”

“Yeah been hanging around edge of town away from people.”

“Trouble?”

You glanced at the concerned man.

“Nah, just to many people you know with Christmas and all having been.”

He hummed and nodded his head.

“So why did you break in trouble?”

You smiled a little.

“There’s a huge storm coming, I was hoping maybe to hide here till it passes?”

“Can’t let you do that you know that.”

You sighed and nodded it, standing up as you tossed your hood up.

“Thought I’d ask, thanks anyways.”

You started to walk away.

“You know, I’ve got a spare room. And food. And heating.”

You stopped.

“Just until the storm passes?”

“You got a shed?”

“I have a shed.”

“I’ll take the shed.”

He smiled and led you out, gesturing to his car and you shook your head.

“I need to get my stuff, can I meet you there?”

“You’ll come?”

“Promise you.”

He nodded his head and told you his address and before he got in his car you stopped him.

“My names (Y/N), see you later Evershed.”

With that you ran away from him and he smiled.

It wasn’t much but it was a start for now at least, you would be out of the way of the storm, and maybe he could help you more if you let him

[wildegeist-old]

2023 closing notes

As this year comes to a close it's almost obligatory to say something about it, I guess. Get a little personal after being more on the closed off side for a while.

It's had its ups and downs. The downs were pretty deep and the ups were pretty high. But most of the downs were from the beginning to middle of the year, most of which I don't really remember to be honest. Most of the ups were just in the last few months. The downs are mostly resolved, and the ups were mostly long term goals and general life progress though, so I'll call '23 a win, even if it was a tough one and I really had to fight for it. So I'm gonna try to focus on the ups.

I replaced my shitty cursed car that breaks down constantly that was a constant money sink from how often it broke down. I like my new car way more. I got an apartment that I can afford myself with no need for roommate nonsense, and I love my place. I made general mental health progress and came to terms with some stuff and learned how to cope with those things in a healthier way! I reconnected with people and even repaired a bond that meant a lot to me that I thought was broken forever. I made wonderful new friends and got closer with some old ones, and started coming out of my shell again after mostly shutting down for a while. I got my brain more in gear with creative stuff and finally really know what I wanna do in terms of projects and I have something I can keep up with and stay passionate about.

I had a rocky time with music for a bit due to some complicated personal issue involving some harassment junk from the previous year that made me lose most of my motivation for a bit and nearly scrap two whole albums (one of which was just shortened to an EP for my sake), but I managed to make some stuff and am getting it back. I can feel more improvement in my general sound and I think I made some of my best stuff this year, even if it was less stuff.

I've kind of had a rough past however-many years, but I feel like this is the one where I've made the most progress and now, at almost 27, I feel like I'm finally starting to figure out who I am, to a degree. I've had a really weird relationship with my sense of self for a very long time and I'm not sure I'll ever fully grasp it. The bottom line is I just don't think I experience being a person in the way that most people would consider normal. That'll either make sense to some people or it won't. Maybe I'll figure it out and maybe I won't- I'm not gonna stress about it as much as I used to.

In 2024 I plan to launch Sableheart. I'm hoping earlier in the year, but my life is unpredictable and I've just kind of accepted that and won't let that fact stress me out over deadlines too much. I work best when I'm relaxed. A good friend helped me overcome a little writing rut I was in the other week and I'm still so excited just to show everyone the prologue alone, I've been really working hard at it. :) Either way though, my progress with it has been relatively fast even if it doesn't feel like it. I started serious development (including the decision to develop it in the first place) only several months ago.

2023 was me getting a foothold and maybe in 2024 I can keep climbing. I'm hoping that this is the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel- and I hope 2024 treats everyone else well too.

[benrunschicago]

236 Days until Chicago

So much to cover, where to begin!

I became disconsolate when I saw my weight wasn’t budging and I felt big and heavy. There are two months until the next Army unit weigh-in, so I threw nearly everything out the door and said: I got to switch gears. The scale is stubbornly stuck on 91 kilos. In my mind I keep thinking: 15 seconds less per 5 pounds lost, if I lose 40 pounds that would be two minutes per mile, I’d be doing 10 minutes per mile as my easy Zone two pace.

I’ve done some things that should pay off in the long term: I cut out peanut butter, I cut out chocolate, and I eat a big fruit salad everyday with a dozen different types of fruit, nuts, seeds, bee pollen, yogurt, and honey.

But I’m not sure this will cut it. I think I ruined my metabolism by starving myself for previous Army weigh-in’s—sometimes eating a very small handful of real meals over the course of a month—and I think now the solution to fix that is maybe to rebuild my body and change my body composition.

So I spent last week 1) more body-weight exercises 2 do the Bigger Leaner Stronger plan, which is focused on the Big 3 moves: barbell squats, bench press, and dead lifts. Then 3) I wrote out my Army two-mile run program into a ten page infosheet.

As part of that I started doing it. I said, hey, sure, I certainly have built up an aerobic base this past month. I can start doing tempo runs for 10-20 minutes and get a good score in two months when we do the Army Combat Fitness Test.

The basic gist is you run close to your target speed for half a mile, while feeling like you are running “comfortably hard”. From there each time you can you try to add a quarter mile at the same speed. Once you achieve the two mile distance, you increase the speed slowly over time to the target speed. Then there, you once again continue to add more miles until you’re going at least twice as far as you need to. This link to the PDF here shows the whole plan.

I did this, and already it’s been a big boon for me:

My first day I chose 8.5 mph, or 7:04 pace. I did it for half a mile, and a half of a mile felt like a big stretch, but still relatively reasonable, a.k.a. comfortably hard. Mind you, my month and a half of base building I always ran 12:30 or 13:00 min/mile

Two days off

2nd day: hit my C goal, which is always to do as good as I did the previous time, then hit my B goal, which was to hit 0.75 miles at that speed. Next time, I said, I think I can hit 1 mile.

Two days off, plus one run of 7 miles in the park at easy pace.

3rd hard day (today): hit my C and B goals, which I felt confident doing and knew that I would be able to as soon as I hit the half mile mark and felt strong and fresh still. A goal is to go a little farther than I had planned. B goal : 1 mile, so A goal was 1.25. And I hit that and felt good. I even sped up the treadmill two clicks to 8.7 mph for the last quarter mile.

When I did the 7 mile run in the park, I surprised myself by being able to run leisurely and my mile times were dipping below 12:00. I guess speed is paying off already!

If I can truly change my body composition, then these speeds will be even easier to maintain. I looked at my wife and told her how the speed I ran today is the one I hope to run in seven and a half months! But for 25 miles longer.

What else is new?

I did so much toe yoga that I came close to getting a condition, so I backed off. This is related to how I had foot surgery and now that little toe feels useless.

Also I’m very excited to se me that the other big gym here has a few manual treadmills, which are perfect for learning how to run with good form!

[so-very-small]

sometimes i want to be small so i’d just be taken care of. i want to be two inches tall so someone would look at me and see something worth being protected.

not in the sense i cant take care of myself, but the opposite. due to my family situation i basically raised myself. right now i have a job, am going to be starting college on top of that, going to learn to drive, looking for a way to move out. i’ve been mostly self dependent for ages, but in all the ways my life’s changed over the past two months i feel like i’m on my own. i gotta take care of myself. i have friends, i have family, but god like

i wanna be two inches tall. i wanna just be held. fuckin comforted. i want a giant to remind me to take my meds and wipe my tears away and see me as something to protect at all costs. as a tiny i wouldn’t have to worry about cars or jobs or student loans, i’d be able to lean on someone and it’d be okay cause all i’d really take is a crouton and a pillow to nap on ykno?

just. yeah

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Shield

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, John Walker, Emotions, Character Death, Mentions of Blood, I know people had a hard time with that last scene so please take caution because it is in this part! GIF at end is the ending scene, so be careful when you get towards the bottom! I feel like I’m forgetting some, so just know this one’s a bit more than the others.

A/N: Here it is, folks! The Part we’ve all been waiting for! It’s the longest one I’ve written so far but so much happened and I couldn’t find a better spot to end it than where the episode ended. Thank you all for being patient with me today. I know I didn’t get this out as quickly as I would’ve the past few weeks, but you guys are so awesome! Seriously! I love that you understand I do have a life and work comes first! Thank you, thank you!

This Part is a doozy, guys, and…I’m sorry? But not really. I’m SUPER excited to see where this is gonna go, especially considering Episode 5 is supposed to be the real tear jerker. I can’t believe there’s only two more episodes! I’ve grown so attached to these characters just in the past month! I’m so glad I’m able to share some of my thoughts and feelings with you guys, too! You’re honestly the best!

I’ll be doing more One Shots this week, so look for those on the Masterlist. I’m still taking requests for them, so if there’s anything you want explored about the reader and her relationships that you don’t think will be explored in this Series, just ask and I’ll try to add it to the One Shot list.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

(I couldn’t decide on which GIF to use because there are so many good ones! Thank you Tumblr Creators!)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“Doll…hey. Doll. C’mon, sweetheart. We gotta get moving.”

You cracked your eyes open begrudgingly, squinting up to see Bucky’s amused grin, head tilted and eyes soft. “Huh?”

He chuckled as you rubbed your eyes, confusion lifting an eyebrow. “The funeral. Zemo said we’ve gotta go if we’re gonna make it in time.”

“Wait, but…huh?”

Sniggering again at your reaction, he held up your phone. “You passed out in the middle of a chapter, sleepyhead.” He teased lightly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you to sit upright. “It’s almost been an hour.”

You huffed tiredly, stretching and placing your feet on the floor, taking back the phone he held out to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You haven’t been sleeping well.” He stated, like it should’ve been obvious. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“Better than earlier. It’s just sore. That’s all.”

He studied your features for any hint of a lie. Not finding one, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Okay. But tell me if it starts bothering you.”

You placed your hand in his, marveling for a split second at how big his hands were compared to yours - something you noticed every time but still it never ceased to astound you. He tugged you up, and you looked up to meet his worried eyes, remembering his question.

“I will, Buck. Promise.”

He nodded, tilting his head towards the door. “C’mon, cuddle bug. We don’t wanna miss this.”

A groan passed your lips, but you nodded and followed Bucky out into the main room, where Sam chuckled at you from his spot at the table. “Sleeping beauty has finally awoken.”

You flipped Sam off groggily. “Are we going or not?”

“Do you wanna wake up s’more first?”

“No.” You answered the one armed brunette. “I’ll just splash some water on my face or something. I’ll be fine by the time we get there. Where’s-”

“Looking for me?”

Zemo strolled out, now dressed in that coat of his, that smug smirk on his lips. You scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Sam stood up, standing subconsciously between you and Zemo. “Let’s head out.”

You nodded in agreement, shooting the Baron one more glare, before following him out the door and into the city, Bucky right besides you, shoulders brushing as if you weren’t ignoring him just hours prior.

The walk was mostly silent, a few jests between Bucky and Sam plus a couple comments from Zemo here and there. You talked about strategy, with Sam bringing up the fact that he wanted to try convincing Karli to step down. Zemo didn’t look pleased with the arrangement, but both you and Bucky relented, agreeing to let Sam at least try.

It wasn’t until you were close to your destination according to Zemo that anything exciting happened.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!”

Hell. No. 

The moment the voice registered in your brain, your jaw tightened, your teeth starting to grind together as you held back the very not nice things you wanted to say. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called out, tucking you into his side protectively, and a little possessively you noted, as Walker and Hoskins came down the steps, the two groups nearing each other.

You were relieved when the subject of Zemo escaping jail went by relatively quickly, Walker latching onto the fact that you were going to talk to Karli instead of focusing on the escaped fugitive in front of him.

You very nearly punched him when he ran in front of you after Sam told him the plan, making the four of you stop in your tracks, but Bucky’s arm tightened around your shoulders, holding you in place next to him.

“You’re gonna let him do this?” Walker questioned Bucky in disbelief, self righteous judgement practically dripping from your tone. “You’re gonna let your partner walk into a room with a super soldier alone?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. “He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.”

“And you?” Walker narrowed his eyes towards you. “I expected more from you; the last original Avenger.”

You snorted, shaking your head. He obviously didn’t know how chaotic the Avengers were. What Sam was proposing? You’d seen it a million times with Steve alone. Not considering Nat, Clint, Thor, even Bruce and Tony. All of them willing to try to negotiate before running in, bullets raining and hell rising. “First, I’m not the last original. I’m technically not even an original. Second, I trust Sam with my life and I’m standing by his decision. He’s my brother. As a soldier, I would’ve thought you understood that.”

Before he could respond, Sam stepped around Bucky. You saw the reluctance in Walker’s eyes as he admitted a temporary defeat once Hoskins agreed with Sam. The fact that he was so unwilling to try to save more lives - including Karli’s - made the truth that he wasn’t, and would never, be your Captain harden deeper into your heart.

Ignoring Walker’s confusion as you followed the little girl Zemo befriended - which was weird, you’d admit, but it was getting you closer to Karli - Bucky’s arm slipped from your shoulders, hand sliding across your back and skimming down your arm to grip your hand. Even through your jacket, you felt goosebumps erupt along his fingers’ trail.

You finally came to your destination and you let out a small breath. If everything went smoothly, this mission could finally be over and you could go home and take a bath, get take out, get out a bottle of wine, watch TV, and just relax.

What a dream.

“Hey.” You stopped Sam before he could go through the entrance of where the girl said Karli was, holding his forearm. “You want me to come with you?”

He shook his head. “I think it’ll be better if I go alone.”

You nodded, letting go without any hesitance. “Okay. Be careful.”

“Always.” And despite all you’ve been through, no matter how many times he’s followed Steve’s lead in doing something stupid, you knew he meant it. You nodded again, before he disappeared around the corner.

You leaned back against the wall, Bucky once again wrapping an arm around your shoulder now that you weren’t walking - he liked having mobility on the move, hence the reason he held your hand instead - leaning besides you and pulling you against his chest.

Ten minutes. You tried looking at Bucky’s watch, which was on the wrist of the arm around you. He noticed and turned his wrist slightly, bending his elbow more, which brought you even closer to him, showing you the time.

Giving a small sigh, you nodded slightly and dropped your head back against his bicep, your hands shoving in your pockets, one of your feet coming up to rest against the wall. Bucky shifted to your other side so he could stand in front of the doors to where Karli and Sam were, pulling you against his back, arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly.

It was a long ten minutes. You kept eyeing Walker, and you couldn’t help the anger burning through you as he held the shield in his hands. That damn shield. It wasn’t his. It would never be his. And he would never understand it. The fact that the shield didn’t make Captain America. The shield isn’t what made Steve a good man. Not even the Serum did. He already was one. Steve made the shield what it was, not the other way around.

But then you remembered a conversation you had, years ago, and your eyes flitted up to Bucky’s hardened face, the brunette staring intensely at the ground.

~

You didn’t get it. You were confused. You knew how important Barnes - Bucky - was to Steve. But apparently you didn’t understand it quite yet.

You watched from the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall, as Bucky went under once more.

Steve stood there for a moment longer, before turning and walking towards you. “Why’d you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow at you while you turned to walk with him down the hall. “Do what?”

“Give up the shield. And don’t say it doesn’t belong to you. It does. Howard gave it to you. You’re the reason it’s…a symbol.”

He hummed. “And what exactly is it a symbol for, honey?”

You scoffed. “Uh, freedom? Justice? Resilience? The defense of the whole life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness thing?”

He stopped, facing you with a strange expression on his face, thoughtful. “I dropped it because I can’t be that anymore. Not right now. People don’t have the same beliefs they used to have. How can I stand up for freedom and let the Sokovia Accords track every person they deem a threat, just like HYDRA tried doing? How can I be a symbol for justice and let Bucky take the fall for something that he wasn’t in control of? I can’t. And until the world is ready to change…I can’t be Captain America.”

~

And suddenly, it seemed to click. Steve gave up the shield for Bucky because the world wasn’t ready to admit it was wrong. Just like Sam gave up the shield for himself and his family because the world wasn’t ready for the truth that would come with him becoming Captain America.

God…when did a metal circle become so complicated?

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty lil’ head’a yours?” His whisper in your ear startled you out of your thoughts, his nose brushing against your temple tenderly as he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You looked up at him and shook your head. Of all the things Steve gave up, he never gave up Bucky. And it used to confuse you, but you understood then. His blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and slight concern, his fingers tracing patterns along your collarbone with a barely-there touch that was so light it didn’t seem to exist. You finally understood. Not just Steve’s decision, but Sam’s too. And maybe you didn’t understand it fully, and that was okay, because you weren’t them, so you never would, but you understood a little bit.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, keeping your voice down so the others couldn’t hear, the conversation being a private one, “I’m just waiting for this to be over.”

He hummed, nodding in agreement, setting his chin on your head. “Me too.”

Walker started pacing the room about half way through, getting too antsy for your liking. “Shhh.” Bucky mumbled under his breath, feeling you tense as Walker started talking. “It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“He knows what he’s doing.” Bucky stated confidently, straightening slightly from his leaning position, arms falling from your form. The two of you exchanged glances as Walker checked the clock over on the far wall, blocked from your view.

“I’m going in.” Walker strode across the room, heading for the entrance, no doubt willing to steam roll anything - anyone - in his way.

Bucky stopped him with a hand on his chest. You glanced back and forth between the two as Walker spoke, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Buck…we promised him ten minutes.” You reminded him, seeing his resolve crumble a bit. You could guess he was thinking of the nightmares. The people he couldn’t save. The blood he already considered on his hands.

Walker used his moment of hesitation, shoving past him roughly. “I’m not waiting.”

“John!”

“Walker!”

You followed after him, you and Bucky arguing with him and Hoskins about giving Sam more time, but it was too late.

“Karli Morgenthau! You’re under arrest!”

“Fuck.” You hissed out when you saw Sam’s panicked expression, looking at you confused. Walker was flown across the room when Karli punched him, Bucky shoving Hoskins out of the way to run after her.

“Y/N-”

You threw your hands up. “I tried, Sam! C’mon!”

You and Sam ran over to some stairs, turning corners and trying to remember what the building looked like from outside to cut her off, but you only ran into Bucky again. 

“I wish we had the layout or something.” You grumbled. “We were that close-”

“We’re not done yet, doll.” Nodding, you followed the boys out, Bucky pausing every so often to try to hear anything. “I’ve got gunshots.” At that, the three of you took off towards the sound, Bucky leading the way.

Just around the corner from where Bucky heard the gunshots, you thought you saw a couple people slip around another bend. Noticing you had stopped, Bucky backtracked. “You okay?’

“Yeah.” Deciding it wasn’t worth the pursuit, you turned to him and nodded towards the doorway Sam already went through. He gave you a look, but nodded and the two of you jogged into the room.

You sighed heavily, seeing Zemo knocked out on the floor, Walker standing over him and broken vials that were previously full of, what you assumed was, the Serum. Hoskins ran in right after you, meaning no one but Walker and Zemo knew what happened. Meaning you would probably never get the full, true story.

What fun it is to work with manipulators and liars.

********************

“I don’t like him.” Bucky grumbled, the two of you walking up to the place you were staying in, Bucky holding the door open for you.

“I know you don’t, Buck. I don’t either.” You had asked Bucky to go with you to get some fresh air once you got back, Zemo having woken up a few minutes after and Walker and Hoskins had to make a call or something official like the good soldiers they were. “He’s hiding something.”

“You think?” Bucky scoffed, giving you a look.

You rolled your eyes. “I mean…I don’t know. When we found him and Zemo…my gut twisted.”

He nodded in understanding, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah. Mine did too.”

You stopped him before you could walk through the door to the main room. “Do me a favor?” He nodded again with a little hum. Catching his chin between your fingers, your free hand moved to smooth out the creases between his brow. “Stop brooding so much. It makes me worried.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, features softening slightly. “Are you really gonna leave in the morning? I know you’ve had a lot of people telling you to take a break, and it’s selfish for me to ask you to stay, but…I dunno if I can finish this without you.”

“I-” You sighed, ducking your head as you thought of a response, before looking up in his wide eyes, begging for you to stick around longer. “Let’s just finish the day and see what happens next. Okay?”

He bit his lip, nodding slightly. You gave him a smile, before tugging on his hand. “I need a drink.”

He chuckled at that. “That I can fix, doll.” He, again, opened the door for you, and the two of you walked in.

“What a gentleman. Straight outta the 40’s.” You joked, making him roll his eyes.

He took off his jacket, heading to the kitchen, while you sat on the opposite side of the island. “Somethin’s not right about Walker.”

Sam gave you two an amused look. “You don’t say.”

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one.” He opened the lid of the bottle he grabbed, starting to pour two glasses of whiskey for the both of you. “Because I am crazy.”

You rolled your eyes as Sam responded, “can’t argue with that.”

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.”

Giving Bucky a disapproving look over the rim of your glass, you sipped your drink, narrowing your eyes when he ignored you. “I didn’t give him the shield.”

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.”

Your glass slammed down on the counter. Why did he have to bring this up right now? Seriously? You were just having a nice conversation about places you wanted to visit while taking a walk outside. Why was he suddenly snapping?

Before you could scold him, the doors burst open, making your head whip over as Walker stormed in, “ordering” you to hand over Zemo.

You stayed sitting, leaning on the counter and facing the opposite wall as Sam told him off, giving an amused snicker as you sipped your drink. Bucky sat besides you, facing Walker, and you recognized from the angle he was positioning himself that he was blocking you from Walker’s view, whether intentional or not.

You raised an eyebrow, turning in interest when Walker put down the shield, knowing Sam wasn’t about to fight the man. What an ego the blonde had.

Before anything could happen, however, a spear pierced through the air, lodging in the pillar next to Walker’s head.

Your frustration with Bucky’s comment flew out of your head as Ayo and a few other Dora Milaje walked in. Bucky sat up straighter and you stood up, leaning ever so slightly against his arm.

You nearly facepalmed, a sound of complete disbelief leaving you as Walker introduced himself. Sam looked over at you two, an entertained, slightly incredulous smile on his face.

Sam tried warning him. He really did. But Walker, you’ve come to find, was an arrogant, egotistical narcissist who only wanted to win and would do whatever it takes to do so. Even when there wasn’t really a winner. At least, not in that situation. It seemed that Walker liked ignoring the gray area in the world, which wasn’t good. Not in the least.

Which is why you couldn’t really feel sorry for the man. You saw it coming as soon as he told them they didn’t have jurisdiction. And the moment he touched Ayo?

You put your chin on Bucky’s shoulder - who had stood up from his spot - watching the Dora Milaje kick Walker’s ass, wincing and cringing mockingly at the right moments, making Bucky smirk at you.

“We should do something.” Sam said, although he didn’t look thrilled about the prospect.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Looking strong, John!”

You gave a slight snort, not wanting to encourage anything, but unable to hold in your amusement. Bucky winked at you, clinking his cup of whiskey with your own, before taking a gulp.

“Bucky.” 

You huffed and stepped back at Sam’s tone. “C’mon, Buck.”

“Fine.” Bucky grunted. “But ‘M not happy about it.”

Soon, the three of you, plus Walker and Hoskins, were all occupied with a member of the Dora Milaje. You knew you couldn’t take them; they were on a higher level that Natasha, and you could barely beat her. But you weren’t necessarily trying to win.

It was a strange fight, knowing that no one - except Walker, probably - actually wanted to hurt anyone. Of course, that didn’t stop one of them from exploiting your injured shoulder that she spotted rather quickly. The hits were quick and precise, the tip of her spear cutting along the graze, hitting the spot just perfect enough to reopen it. The stitches that had been placed only a couple days ago ripped, making you wince and clutch your now bleeding shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You groaned. “You were always good with those things.”

She gave you an almost apologetic look, before she looked over to Ayo, who stepped through the room towards the bathroom where Zemo had locked himself in during the chaos.

When you caught sight of the shoulder thing she did to Bucky, his metallic arm now laying on the floor, his eyes wide and his stance stunned, your jaw nearly dropped. You guessed it made sense that they had a way to do that, but, still. None of you were expecting it.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked once they started leaving, Bucky picking up his arm and connecting it to his shoulder.

“No.” The arm whirred as he swung it, getting it back to normal.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that left you, making Bucky raise an eyebrow at you. You tried holding in more laughs, but they just kept coming. “She-she...she disarmed you!”

Bucky rolled his eyes as you chortled, holding your stomach and bending over. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Oh come on!” You straightened and wiped your eyes. “That was good! Wasn’t it, Sammy?”

Sammy chuckled and nodded. “I’ll admit, it was pretty good. This, however, is not.”

Your laughter died as Sam made his way over to the bathroom, the light air that came with your cackles dissipating as quickly as it came.

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.”

You stared at the drain that was uncovered - large enough for Zemo to slip inside and escape. He did it. The son of a bitch finally did it. It took him long enough. You would’ve betted against him days ago.

“I can.” Bucky turned and grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

*********************

“I thought you told them.”

Bucky looked up from wrapping your shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“I thought you told them. The Dora Milaje. Wakanda. T’Challa. I thought you told them about Zemo.”

He leaned back with a sigh. “It was kinda a last minute decision. You know that. You were there.”

You nodded. “I do. But I also know what they’ve done for you. Shuri and Ayo. I was there for that, too. And you know what he did to them. To their country. Their king.”

“I know, I know. I almost died several times because of it.”

Your eyebrows pinched in confusion. “So why-”

“I thought it’d be quick. I thought, maybe, I could do it without them finding out and then we could get to Karli and they wouldn’t be disappointed. Win win.”

Your cheek caught between your teeth as you thought. “You could’ve just asked-”

He shook his head. “They would’ve said no. You know that.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. I know that. But…but giving them a warning would’ve been better than this.” He hung his head, closing his eyes. “Bucky. Hey,” hooking a finger under his chin, you tilted his head back up to look at you. “I know it’s been hard for you. Everything has. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I shouldn’t have let you come along. You should be healing, and it’s my fault you’re not.” He opened his mouth, face scrunching up in disagreement, but you shook your head. “It’s true. I just…I didn’t know it would come this far.” You gnawed on your bottom lip studying those captivating eyes, before sighing. “Which is why I’m not leaving.”

He perked up, those pretty eyes going wide, jaw slackening. “You-you’re not?!”

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to run away, you couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “It wouldn’t be fair to you or Sam. I promised to help, and I brought you into it. So I’m gonna stay.

“Are you, uh…are you sure? You don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, doll. I know I kinda pushed you earlier, but-”

“I’m sure Buck.” You nodded firmly. “Just…do something for me?”

“I dunno if I can promise not brooding, sweetheart.”

You giggled at his words. “Not that. Just…stop giving Sam a hard time. About the shield. Please.”

His soft features hardened and he scowled. “If he didn’t give it up-”

“He thought it was going to the museum. I told you about that, remember? I told you we’d go when I got back.”

Giving a slight nod, he sighed. “We never did.”

“We will. But, I’m serious, Buck. Please. It’s not his fault. He did exactly what Steve did.” At Bucky’s confused look, you pursed your lips, looking down at his hands, starting to play with his fingers. “Remember how I was thinking during those ten minutes we had?” He nodded. “I was thinking about how Steve gave the shield back to Tony. After saving you. In Siberia. You remember that?” Another nod was given, so you continued. “It was for you, James. Because you made him realize that he didn’t want to be the face of a country that preached one thing, but did another. And that’s what Sam did. He did it for his family. For himself. Because no one wants to fight for a country that goes against your personal beliefs, no matter what they say.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Bucky’s eyes squinted, his brow creasing as he tried processing what you were telling him.

“That’s okay. Not everyone will. Really only they can understand their own reasoning. But you have to try to understand that he did what he thought was best for himself. For Steve. For the shield. And I know - dammit do I know - that it’s the last thing left of him. But it is just metal. Isn’t it? Steve’s the reason it is what it is. No one else. And no one is going to change that.”

Bucky took a breath, glossy, worried eyes meeting yours. “Walker’s going to ruin it. I know he is. I can feel it. Everything Steve worked for. I don’t care about Captain America. I care about the kid from Brooklyn who wanted to make a difference, no matter how little he was. I trusted him. I followed him through bullets and blood, with only that shield between us and them. He was home on a battlefield in Italy across the ocean from New York. And that shield was the welcome mat. It doesn’t matter what it says, what it looks like…but it protected my home when I couldn’t. But now? I feel like it’s tearing my home down. Pulling out the bricks. And it hurts. It was never about the shield, Y/N. It was always about the man it protected when I couldn’t be there for him. And now?”

Gathering him in your arms as he trailed off, you gave a couple little sniffles, pressing your face in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck lightly. “I’ll be your welcome mat, Buckaroo.” You offered.

He shook his head, pulling away to hold your face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. You’re not the welcome mat. You’re the new bricks replacing the old. You’re…you’re my home, now, doll.”

You swallowed thickly, unable to handle the rush of emotions that just poured through you, the sudden change in topic making you feel more vulnerable than you’d like. You leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling him go lax in your arms. “And you’re mine.” You murmured softly, before getting up and heading out for the room, unable to stay any longer. You still had a mission to do. One that became even more desperate with Zemo loose, Walker unhinged, and Karli being so close.

******************

There was a silent agreement to not bring up your conversation. Not yet, at least. Sam had eyed you both when you came out of the room, saying you were ready to get moving, but he didn’t say anything either.

None of you really knew where you were going, only what you had to do. Find Zemo and get to Karli before Walker could. Both of which were a lot easier said than done.

Until Sam got a call from Sarah, who told him Karli contacted her personally and threatened her and her sons. She left a contact number for Sam, evidently wanting to meet. His phone dinged not a minute after he texted the number.

“She said come alone.”

“Well that’s not happening.” You opposed, crossing your arms.

Bucky nodded with your sentence. “We’re coming with you.”

Sam didn’t say anything against it, the three of you exchanging glances, before heading out to the location, changing into your tactical suits along the way.

Karli didn’t seem to mind you and Bucky tagging along, and you understood why the moment she mentioned not killing Sam because he wasn’t hiding behind a shield. It was a distraction. They were going after Walker.

It was confirmed only moments later when Sharon contacted Sam. “Looks like he found them, or maybe they found him.”

As soon as Sam announced that it was Walker, you jumped into action, Sam disabling Karli for just the right amount of time for you to get a head start. “I’ll send you the location. Go.” He told Bucky, who nodded and took off in his super soldier sprint. “You hitching a ride?”

You rolled your eyes at his slight tease. “I hate this so much.” You grumbled, catching his hand as he took off in the air with his bird costume. He held onto you tightly, like the millions of times you’d done this before, although it didn’t make you any less dizzy, traveling that fast, that high, with only his hold keeping you from dropping. “You’re lucky I trust you so much!”

He gave a small chuckle at your shout over the wind. “We’re landing! Brace yourself!” You followed his order, just in time for him to break through the glass ceiling of the building Walker was in. The both of you landed on a platform on the staircase just as a Flag Smasher was thrown through double glass doors, down the stairs, and into a power box. Your eyes went wide as Walker strolled down the steps, oozing a confidence that made you nervous. The moment Walker stopped the Flag Smasher - the Super Soldier - from hitting him with the pipe, you knew even before he twisted it like a pretzel.

“Sam.” You breathed out. You couldn’t even do anything, only watching as the Flag Smasher got up from being thrown again, and running down a hall.

“What’d you do?”

“They got Lemar.” Was the only reply he gave, brushing past you and Sam. You gave Sam a look, but he just jerked his head down the hall, in the direction the Flag Smasher went and the way Walker started heading. You nodded, willing to drop it for now to save someone’s life, but you were so bringing it up once this was done.

Jogging into the room, you should’ve expected the ambush in the room, but, to be honest, they didn’t take as much advantage as they could’ve, so it wasn’t too difficult of a fight. You had trained with Steve millions of times before, so you knew how to go against a Super Soldier. Granted, your Cap wasn’t trying to kill you while training, but it was better than nothing.

You protected your shoulder, knowing that was your weak point, while trying to disguise it so whoever you were fighting wouldn’t realize your Achilles’ Heel. Something you often found while dealing with Steve, and even Bucky, was that Super Soldiers, as quick as they were, tended to favor the super strength side of their enhancements. This made it easier for you to dodge the attacks, knowing most of your blows wouldn’t do much.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay on the defensive for long, you decided to try to get an advantage over them. Disarming them and taking their knife was easy enough. A small advantage, yeah, but now you had a weapon, and you could work with that.

You weren’t exactly sure when Bucky joined the fight, but he did, immediately coming over to you when you body kicked your opponent, helping you up. “That was a Steve move.” Your eyes caught sight of the Flag Smasher behind him and you shoved his shoulder down, throwing your knife, making it land solidly in the man’s shoulder. Bucky looked up at you from his crouch, impressed. “And that was a me move.”

You shrugged. “I’m a visual learner.”

You, Sam, and Bucky were about to go for another round with the guys when a sickening crack sounded behind you, and you whipped around. 

Hoskins was against a split pillar, a crimson streak running down his forehead, head lolling to the side, lips red and cracked. The fight stopped as Walker rushed over to his friend, but you knew there was no way he survived. A punch from a Super Soldier? That hard?

Eyeing the Flag Smashers, you turned to Sam and Bucky when they started dispersing, Karli running out as well. They nodded towards you and the three of you took off after her, not wanting to let her get away again and, for you, at least, wanting to give Walker some time.

You weren’t expecting his grief to turn into such raw hatred. 

Running up to the city square, you didn’t actually see it happen. Just the aftermath. Which was good, considering you nearly threw up just seeing that.

You heard the change in Bucky’s breathing, barely recognizing the way he stepped in front of you, only realizing you stepped closer when you felt his sleeve against your palms, fingers tightly wrapped around his forearm. A choked sound came from somewhere, but you didn’t know it was you, even as Bucky reached his arm around to hold your waist, keeping you behind his shoulder. 

Tears leaked down your face silently, eyes unable to look away as Walker straightened, sliding the shield on his arm, too nonchalantly for someone who just murdered another in front of a crowd full of people, cameras pointed towards him.

The shield. That piece of metal you had been wondering so deeply about the past couple of weeks. The link to the first person you’d ever loved. Ruined. Tarnished. Stained.

You could barely breathe, your throat clenching so tightly it was a wonder you were able to get anything out at all.

“James…”

[bluelove24]

The Regular: (Gong Yoo x Male Reader)

I’ve never written anything like this before, this is my first smut. I’ve been reading stories from “Kinktober” and kinda got inspired. This is in no way an accurate portrayal of Gong Yoo, this is just fantasy. I don’t own the gif and I did not make it.

Warnings: strong language, slapping, cursing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As a full-time college student with a job, I didn't have much time for sex. I kept my head in the books and figured the rest would follow.

Most of the guys on campus didn't interest me that much. I knew for sure I was gay, but I hadn't managed to find that many men who turned me on. I had jerked a few guys off in high school, but overall I was still very inexperienced.

Mr. Gong was a regular at the coffee shop where I worked. Over time, we struck up a casual acquaintance, making small talk while I prepared his latte - the weather, how our days were going, things we saw on the news, etc. We eventually discovered a mutual interest in baseball, and that our teams were rivals, so we messed with each other about their wins and losses. I learned that he was an actor and that he had a dog, and I told him about my college classes. He was in his early 40s. Nice guy, friendly, relaxed, not looking to get on anyone's bad side. Masculine, without being a jerk about it, and not too much thought put into his clothes. He usually just wore jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and a face mask. He was a good looking guy, medium height, full head of dark hair and a great smile.

We kept talking for a few months she one day he stopped in to ask if I could take care of his dog. He explained, "I'm going out of town for a few weeks for work. I would obviously pay you. Would you mind feeding him once a day and taking him on a walk? If you can’t I completely understand.”

I said sure, why not? I can't lie, I felt excited about the idea of being inside Mr. Gong’s house and also having some extra money is not bad. We exchanged numbers and set everything up. I was starting to develop a serious crush on my favorite regular. I took care of the dog while he was gone, and everything went smoothly. He'd said he'd be home late Tuesday night and we had agreed that Tuesday afternoon would be the last time I'd come by to take care of the dogs. When I arrived at his house, I let the dog out in the yard, and as I was refilling the water bowl, I heard the key turn in the lock and Mr. Gong walked in. I jumped, spilling water all over the floor.

"Hey, you're home early, Mr... uh, Gong," I stuttered.

"Yeah, I managed to get on an earlier flight. Hope I didn't scare you." He grinned and almost smirked.

"Uh, no, not at all, just wasn't expecting you."

"I see. You know, Y/N, the truth is, I was hoping to run into you."

"You were?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm glad I caught you." His smile widened as he closed the door and set down his suitcase. I was confused and a little scared was this some kind of set up?

"Oh, you are?" I managed to get out, trying to keep my voice level.

"Don't fuck around with me, Y/N." His lip curled into a mean sneer.

"I know you've been thinking about seeing my cock. Smelling it. Tasting it. I can always tell when a young guy like you is cock- hungry. You think I was just talking to you for fun the past few months? I could tell from day one that you were a little queer bitch. I've just been waiting for the right moment."

I stared at him, at a loss for words.

"And I think I've found it. You want me, don't you." It was not a question. Lying seemed pointless, so I nodded.

"Good boy. That's what I thought." He started rubbing the crotch of his pants, and I didn't try to hide the fact that I was staring at the growing dickprint. I still felt surprised and nervous, but also very excited. Maybe this would finally be the day that my fantasies came true. To be honest, I masturbated nearly every day thinking about him using me for his pleasure, shoving his dick down my throat, and then stretching my hole while he fucked me hard and deep. Sometimes I even imagined him slapping me. Up to this point I'd been too nervous to act on it. But Mr. Gong wasn't giving me any time to be nervous.

He barked out, "Stop staring at me cock and clean up that water you spilled."

I found some paper towels and wiped up the water as fast as I could.

"Good. Now take off your shirt." I was self-conscious about being shirtless, but Mr. Gong seemed to like it. He was staring at my body with intense lust, continuing to massage his penis, now fully rigid, through his pants.

"Come here, boy. Get on your knees." I obeyed and crouched down in front of him. He unbuttoned his pants and slid them down, leaving only his dark boxer briefs, straining to contain his throbbing erection.

"Sniff it." I obediently leaned into his massive balls, and breathed in deeply through the fabric. The intoxicatingly heady musk made me lightheaded. I inhaled again and again, under his balls, and up along his shaft. The aroma varied in different places but was no less heady. I grew rock hard from his manly scents. When I placed my nose against the fabric stretched over his cockhead, I caught a whiff of his pre cum.

"You like the way a man's cock smells? Answer me, boy."

"Yes."

"Yeah? Tell me more." He gazed down at me with a stern look.

I took a deep breath and whimpered "I love the way you smell."

"Mmmm, good. That's right." He shoved my face into his balls again and rubbed his hard erection over my cheeks and forehead. He kicked off his shoes and shoved his foot against my aching cock.

"Wow, you do love that, don't you? Your dick is totally hard. You're a real slut, you know that?" Was I? I was shocked to hear him call me a slut, but I quickly realized that it made my dick throb. It was hard to argue with that. I nodded as I gently licked the fabric over his balls.

"Good. I love having a little bitch boy like you to work on me. With all the work I’ve had I’ve been horny all the time. I'm going to be your daddy from now on, so when you answer me you call me 'Daddy.' Got that?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good. Now suck daddy's cock." He whipped out his erection and pushed it against my lips. I opened up and he slid it in roughly. I had imagined being able to discover his cock slowly, at my own pace, and gradually work up to sucking the full length, but Mr. Gon- Daddy was impatient. He grabbed my ears for leverage and began thrusting hard immediately, pounding my tonsils until I gagged. He pulled out and slapped my face with his dripping cock, leaving sticky trails of precum and spit on my cheeks.

"Open up for me, baby. I want to feel my whole cock in your throat."

I did my best to open up but I kept gagging as he thrust his meat in harder. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I choked and slobbered on his thick penis. I wanted to please Daddy so badly, but try as I might, I couldn't fit any more of him in my mouth. We spent a few minutes trying to get his whole length in to my throat when it finally happened. He bottomed out in my throat.

"There you go, boy. I can feel your throat opening for me. Now you're taking daddy's whole cock like a good little bitch. Daddy's going to nut in your throat soon. You want to taste daddy's nut?" I moaned around his cock, trails of spit and precum running down my face and neck.

"You're such a fucking whore." He pistoned his cock deeper still into me. "That's right. Let daddy fuck your tight throat."

Bracing himself with one hand on the wall for support, he grasped the back of my head firmly with the other, and continued his dominant assault on my mouth and throat. He groaned, louder and louder, until with a final roar of pleasure, he leaned back and began to drain his balls into my throat.

"FUCK! TAKE. THAT. CUM. EAT IT." He pulled his cock out just enough that I could feel it spurting on to my tongue, and taste his tangy sperm.

"Swallow all of your daddy's nut, like a good boy. That's what you wanted, right? Goddamn, that feels good. You've been waiting for this for months, haven't you." He grinned as he slowly withdrew his still throbbing cock from my mouth. A few strands of cum still clung to his foreskin.

"Clean it off, there's a good boy." I obediently lapped at this cockhead until all the sperm was gone. I started to jerk myself off, and was seconds away from coming, but Mr. Gong stopped me. SMACK! He slapped me hard on the cheek, knocking me almost to the floor.

"No jerking off! If you ever want this cock again, you cum when I give you permission, and only then.”

"But, Mr. Gong I-"

"You loved that, didn't you?" I nodded. "You loved me fucking your throat and feeding you my sperm, right?"

"Yes."

"Tell me 'yes sir."

"Yes, S-Sir." I stuttered, rubbing the sore spot on my cheek where he'd hit me. It hurt!

"Then save your cum. Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while. Get your things and leave, I have to unpack. But be back here tomorrow, 7 pm sharp."

"Yes, Sir."

"And don't let me find out that you've shot your load before then. You don't want to see me angry."

“Yes, Sir.” I gathered my things and left in hurry. I was shocked about what happened but also excited for tomorrow.

[mercy-burning]

Good Little Helper

Pairing: Season 5! Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader gets assigned to be Spencer’s personal assistant of sorts after he gets shot in the knee. Category: SMUT(18+) Content Warnings: fingering (female receiving), blowjob, praise kink, dirty talk, blink and you’ll miss it cumplay Word Count: 4.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: So, remember yesterday when I posted about how I wished new ideas would stop distracting me from everything I’m currently working on? Yeah. This wouldn’t leave me alone, and I couldn’t work on anything until I got it out of my head, so here! Have a fic! (It was supposed to be a blurb, but I got a little long-winded so now it’s too long to be a blurb oops 😙✌) Also, I apologize for any editing mistakes, I just wrote this out in one go, so hopefully it’s alright!

***

Being assigned to assist Dr. Reid with practically his every need after he was shot in the knee wasn't exactly how I expected to spend the past few months.

And that's, like... a huge understatement.

In fact, when Agent Hotchner came up to me in the break room and said he'd like me to do the job, I dropped my coffee and shattered a mug. I could tell he was a little impatient with me, even through his kind reassurances that it was quite all right as he helped me clean it up and waited for an answer.

In the end I'd said yes to the job, though the more I thought about it the more I wondered how much lust and naivete had clouded my judgement when I did.

Because there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to survive weeks, possibly months, as Spencer Reid's assistant. Not only because he was intimidatingly intelligent and there was almost nothing I could offer him in decent conversation, but also—and more prominently—the fact that I was pretty sure I was in love with him.

Maybe that was a stretch. I definitely had a stupid major crush on him that felt more like we were in middle school, but I could barely look at him without going warm all over. In fact, I think we had only ever made eye contact once and I averted my gaze immediately, afraid I'd give myself away. If I'd have held it any longer, I was positive I'd have burst into flames.

He'd tried talking to me once, a few months after I started working at the Bureau, and it was only to ask if I'd send some files over to their tech analyst, Penelope Garcia, but when I tried answering, I stumbled over my words and ended up only getting out a squeaked, "Uh huh," before taking the files from him and scurrying off.

I almost cried that day.

Basically every time I was in his presence, I was a total wreck. Even more so than I was on any other given day.

Being his assistant did get fairly easy pretty early on, though. I mostly just stayed out of his way while he worked, and if he need anything that he could've gotten himself if not for the injury, it was my job to get it for him. I worked on my own paperwork most of the time, and he was always busy working on geographical profiles and whatever else, we only ever really had to talk when he asked for something. And that only required a, "Sure," on my end, so I could just get up, get what he needed, and then go back to work.

Still, it didn't help that sometimes I'd get distracted.

He was very distracting.

I usually waited until I was sure he was so busy in work that I wouldn't get caught. And that's when I'd peek over my computer or hide behind a book and stare at him. I know that sounds creepier than it is, but if you had to spend almost every hour of the day with him, you'd have done the same. Even though for months he was put on rest from the field, he always showed up looking more like a college professor than an FBI agent. Which, I suppose suited him more anyway. Regardless, it was a damn fine look. His hair was decently long and extremely pretty, and when he got the cane?

I was a goner.

It was at that point, though, when I started to realize that he probably wouldn't need my help anymore. He'd been allowed back into the filed by then, and even when I went with them on cases it still felt like I was more out of place than usual. Sure, I'd picked up on some minor skills that aided in profiling and otherwise, but at the end of the day I was still only a desk clerk. Sooner or later, I knew there would be a time where Agent Hotchner would inevitably tell me that I'd done a good job and could return to my menial day job.

So, even though Dr. Reid and I had gotten into a pretty regular, non-awkward rhythm, I was being a little more squirrely than usual.

And of course, he noticed.

"Y/N, are you doing alright?" he asked, looking up from his stack of paperwork. That was another thing we'd ended up doing— late into the night after everyone had gone home, we stayed late in the conference room and quietly filled out paperwork.

I barely looked him in the eye when I answered. "O—Oh, mhm. I'm fine."

"Oh... You just seem... a little different today."

On any other day I would have freaked out on the inside like a teenager, excited that he'd noticed me at all enough to notice a difference in my behavior. But that was his job after all.

"Actually, you seem rather... sad."

I did look up at him this time, and the soft glow of the table lamp lit up his features— features that looked me over with concern. I could feel my face grow warmer with every second I looked at him, until I quickly looked back down at my paper and shook my head.

"N—No, I'm okay. Promise. Just a little tired, that's all."

Usually he would have left it at that, given we didn't ever really have longer conversations than that that didn't pertain to whatever case the BAU was working on. But he pushed further, and I swallowed.

"Are you sure? Because... You can tell me if there's something wrong. I'm a good listener..."

Did I dare tell him what was really plaguing me? That I was scared I wasn't going to be able to spend time with him every day, thus most likely giving away my crush? That is, if he hadn't already figured it out by this point... Truthfully it wouldn't have surprised me.

The thought made me go warm again, and still, I kept my head down.

"I'm sure..."

And then I did something I probably shouldn't have. I looked back up at him, just a quick glance, but under his intense gaze I crumbled, flitting my eyes back down and playing with my hands.

"Is it... because of me?"

Afraid suddenly that I'd made him feel bad, I straightened a little. "No! No, not at all I... Um... I—I guess I'm just... A little sad that I'm probably... not going to be of any help to you anymore. You know, now that you're healing up."

A small smile flashed over his face, and I inwardly melted.

"Oh... In that case I... I guess I'm sad, too."

"Really?" I asked softly, my heart jumping.

"Mhm," he answered back in earnest. His features were softer than they'd ever been, eyes wide and kind, smile inviting... "You've been a great help. And you're fun to be around."

I couldn't help but smile shyly at his confession, completely bewildered that he'd think of me as someone he'd enjoyed being around, though I'd offered just about nothing interesting to any conversation we'd had. "Y—You don't mean that..."

"I do."

"C'mon, really? I... I—mean... coming from you that's... that's too generous."

He laughed a little. "How do you mean?"

"I... Well, y—you're you... I mean, you're... smart, and nice, and cu— uh,... n—nice..." I stumbled hard on that last one, squeezing my eyes shut at the thought of almost calling him cute to his face... And then I realized I'd called him nice two times... in a row.

I hadn't even realized he'd gotten up and walked over to me until I felt his cane gently tap my leg. I jumped, looking up at him and almost crumbled again right then and there. He stood over me, tall and clearly amused, and I wanted to just curl up and hide where no one would ever find me.

I also didn't want to be craning my neck so far up to see him, so I stood up, sending my chair rolling back a foot or two. The added height was better, but he was still fiarly taller than me, and with the way were standing so close to each other?

Maybe I'd made a mistake...

"I—I'm sorry," I stammered.

Still amused, Spencer tilted his head a small amount. "What for?"

"I... I don't know, m—making this awkward?"

"It's not awkward."

"It... It's not?"

He shook his head, quiet for a few beats before he nearly whispered. "What were you going to say?"

I paused. "I... What?"

"Before... You said I was smart. And nice... And... What else?"

It sounded like he was trying to get me to confess something, and quite honestly I couldn't tell if it was for humiliation or amusement or clarification purposes. I mean, it was probably safe to assume he wouldn't go out of his way to humiliate me, but... it still made me nervous.

"I—I didn't... I..."

"Y/N... Tell me?"

I'd been cornered. Quite literally, too, as my lower back hit the edge of the table. My hands shook anxiously at my sides as I contemplated what to say. The truth? Embarrassing for me. A lie? I was no good at telling lies, and I'd still end up embarrassed, because he'd be able to tell.

So, after a very long silence in which he waited on me to answer, I blurted out, as quietly as possible, "Cute."

The word sounded juvenile coming from my mouth. Right now, standing under Dr. Reid's intense scrutiny, it didn't even feel like the right word to describe him. Not that it wasn't true... But it just wasn't an elegant enough descriptor for him.

And that alone probably proved just how different we were. How out of my league he was...

"That's what I thought you were going to say," he mused, slightly breaking me out of my self-deprecation.

I would have asked him something then, anything to keep myself from looking like even more of a fool with a childish schoolgirl crush, but all words escaped me entirely. All I could do was look up at him, slowly growing warm under the intensity of his eyes and praying he wouldn't think of me as silly.

Though, it wouldn't have mattered, because he kept talking anyway, his body taking up even more space around me as his arms came around to well and truly trap me against the table.

"You're right, you know... I'm almost completely healed, and pretty soon I think I won't need an assistant anymore."

I was scared that maybe I was wrong before, and he'd actually humiliate me now, though the look in his eyes suggested otherwise. I wasn't sure what to make of all of it. SO I just stood there, trying to breath steadily as Spencer studied my face.

"And I meant it... That makes me sad. You know why?"

I shook my head, afraid to make a sound.

His head dipped lower, close enough that I could feel his breath on my mouth as he spoke. "I probably won't get to see you every day."

"Y—you want to see me?" I couldn't help but ask.

He scanned my eyes, amusement and something else lingering there as he did. "Yes."

And then he kissed me.

It was a short distance, but it felt like we went far. And I hadn't even registered that I whimpered into his mouth until he returned it with a low groan that boiled my insides and absolutely melted me. I was helpless against him as he pressed himself further against me and used his hands to keep my back steady.

The whole time my mind was swimming with dizziness. It felt like my body was covered in butterflies from head to toe, particularly strong where his hands pressed into me and his cane rested firmly along the inside of my thigh.

I leaned forward when he pulled away, because I was afraid that he was saying goodbye. But one of his hands came up to my face and my eyes fluttered open, immediately taking notice of how messy his hair was now that I'd had my fingers in it.

I must have looked scared, because suddenly his eyes changed, and he removed his hands away from me altogether, putting distance in between us. "I—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you without asking..."

The relief that rushed through my body must have gotten to my head, because I breathed out a demand I'd never have had the courage to get out before.

"Do it again."

One second I was staring at him, admittedly afraid that he'd regretted all of it, and the next I was seeing stars as he came forward and kissed me again. His hands cradled my face as he did so, coming on to me with gentle care while still maintaining that hunger that surprised and excited me.

I hadn't realized how much I missed his touch until he'd given it back to me, my body once again melting into him and allowing him to do whatever it is that pleased him.

Apparently that was lifting my leg off the ground and making me sit on the table.

My body went along with it easily, and I was glad for it because my brain was nothing but mush, unable to process fully how he'd decided that I was worth kissing. All I really knew was that I wanted him. Anything he wanted from me, I was willing to give. And that must have come across very clearly, because when he pulled away and spoke to me, I whimpered at his words.

"Y/N... You've been such a good girl, helping me with whatever I needed these past few months..." Meanwhile his hand danced along the hem of my skirt, the tiny brushes of his skin against mine sending me into a mess of shivers.

"I think it's about time I've thanked you for all your help, don't you think?"

The implications in his tone made me whine again, and I pressed my forehead into his, our noses brushing as I answered. "Please."

I was so taken by the way he groaned as his lips connected with mine once more that I almost didn't realize that his hand was now fully up my skirt, his fingers drawing gentle lines over my panties and practically making me melt again. His hungry kisses contradicted the softness he took to my clothed cunt, a fact that warmed me to my core and made me want him more than ever.

When he slipped the fabric aside and ran the pad of his finger through me, I whined hard against his mouth, something that must have excited him— He nipped at my bottom lip and took a deep breath.

"How long have you wanted this, Princess?"

If not for the kissing and the finger slowly sliding up through my arousal, the nickname would have done me in. By now I was an utter wreck, but I somehow still managed to answer, even through a little stammering. "F—Forever."

It was the best I could come up with.

He breathed a laugh as his finger circled my clit. "That's a long time..."

"Uh huh," was all I could manage in response. My body and my brain were too focused on the things his finger was doing to my body, involuntarily rolling my hips forward for more. I needed more.

Thankfully he picked up on my urgency and reciprocated with slipping his middle finger inside me, one knuckle, then two...

I cried out as my head lurched forward, connecting our mouths once again. My hands clutched around his neck and my fingers tugged at his hair to keep myself from falling, because the slow, searing pace at which he fingered me made me wonder how I'd still been able to breathe.

He added another finger soon enough, picking up the pace and rendering me practically useless in his embrace. Meanwhile I registered the sound of his own little whines, still deeper than mine but little enough to tip me off that he was enjoying this just as much as I was, and that alone helped get me further along in pleasure.

I pulled my mouth from his reluctantly, squeezing my eyes shut as I allowed my forehead to rest against his. "D—Doctor, I'm c... I'm so close."

"His honorific falling breathlessly from my mouth seemed to do something sinister to him, because his fingers sped up and his breathing got heavier.

"Yeah? You gonna come for me, Princess?"

My stomach tightened and I nodded as best as I could, relishing in the sounds coming from below us, wet and downright filthy.

"Go ahead...Be a good girl and come for me... You deserve it..."

Each little sentence was punctuated with a slightly faster pace, each one bringing me closer and closer until I squeaked into his mouth and shook violently around his fingers, my vision going white. My legs had been open wide since he'd started teasing under my skirt, but now they threatened to clamp shut from the intensity. But I wanted nothing more than to be good for him, to make this as easy as possible, so I held out and kept them open as wide as I could stand as my orgasm rocked through me.

Spencer whispered praises into my skin as his hand slowed and his mouth trailed down to my neck. And even though it was more than nice feeling him lick and bite over my skin, I felt rather sad when he removed his fingers from me.

That sadness didn't last long though, not when he pulled back and studied me for a moment, eyes lust-blown and purely ravenous before he brought his glistening fingers up to my mouth.

I didn't even have to think. I brought my tongue out and let him slip his fingers over it, closing my mouth around them and sighing as I sucked them clean. This only seemed to excite him more, his features displaying all sorts of desperation until he couldn't take it anymore.

He kissed me again, bringing both his hands to rest at my waist. And with his hands so low I wondered if maybe he'd take to ridding himself of his own pants, but it never happened. Rather, he pulled away after minutes of more kissing, and sighed quite sadly as his upper body pressed firmly into mine.

Something else pressed firmly against me as well—right along the inside of my thigh—and I gasped, mind running wild through all the possible outcomes of the night.

But Spencer only stood there, occasionally nudging his nose against mine while his hands gently kneaded my sides.

"D—Do you want to stop?" I asked softly, afraid he'd regret what we did.

He proved me wrong. "God, no... It's... It's just that I'm still not cleared enough for any... strenuous activity on my leg, and I don't..."

I didn't want to push him, obviously, but I thought I could make the mood a little lighter. "O—Oh, well on the bright side... I could stay your assistant for a while longer."

The laugh that rumbled in his throat made me smile, though from the way he stood there, I knew he wouldn't risk it.

"Um... Raincheck?" he whispered.

On the one hand, that meant he definitely wanted to see me again, and I was more than happy with that. But also, that meant our fun for the night was done...

Yet... Maybe not...

"Sure," I answered, pecking his lips once more. Then I brought my hand to his chest and slid it down until I reached his belt, and I leaned back to look him in the eye, a boldness I never imagined coming from me in a million years.

"But I can still help you..."

I watched the desperation and disappointment in his features slowly dissolve into a newfound hunger—and an amusement—that grew my confidence tenfold.

"Oh?" Spencer mused. "How do you suppose you can help me this time?"

He wanted me to say it. So, without second guessing myself anymore, I grazed my finger over his erection. "I'm very good with my mouth, Dr. Reid."

He grabbed me by the hand then, dragging me along to the chair I'd kicked back before and sat himself down, one of his hands still gripping the cane. Matched with the desire in his eyes and the swollenness of his lips and the tousled strands of his hair, the sight was truly something to behold. It was something that only ever existed in my dreams, nd now it was real.

Not wanting to waste any time, I sunk to my knees and nestled myself in between his legs. He reached out and caressed my cheek before lifting my chin with his middle finger.

"You like being my good little helper?" he drawled.

I tried to nod, but he clicked his tongue and held my chin in place. "Words, Princess."

"Yes. I—I'd do anything you asked. Anything you want, it's yours..."

He hummed then, removing his hand from my face and moving to undo his belt swiftly with only one hand. The action, the sound, everything... it was enough to make me wet again, and I subtly ground down onto the heel of my foot as I watched him pull himself free from the confines of his pants.

I didn't have time to marvel at him before I was drawn forward like a magnet, my hands crawling up his legs and my eyes batting up at him, ready and eager to please him however he wanted.

"Eager, are we?" he mused once more, gently stroking himself with his hand.

"Yes, Doctor," I breathed, inching closer and kissing the outside of his hand.

His movement stopped then, and it didn't take longer than a second for him to decide to let me work on my own.

"Then have at it, Princess..."

I started by kissing my way up the length of him, taking my time to gauge his reactions as I did so, occasionally darting my tongue out to taste him. Once I reached the tip, I sucked on it gently, using my tongue to swirl around it until I could taste the saltiness of his precum.

And then I started taking him slowly into my mouth, watching above me as Spencer's eyes started to shut, obviously debating whether or not to lay back and enjoy this or watch me intently.

Either way, I was more than happy to keep it up, finally getting him to the back of my throat. I flexed my tongue and held him there as long as I could, promptly gagging over him and blinking tears from my eyes as he let out a loudest sound I'd heard from him yet. His head flew back and his tongue quivered along his bottom lip as he cursed my name.

The act made me proud, so I retreated for air, sucked at his tip again for a few seconds, and then repeated it, taking him down my throat again and watching through teary eyes as he visibly swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so... Such a good fucking girl..."

The praise caused my insides to burn hot, and I ground down onto my heel again, lifting my mouth to start bobbing up and down.

His eyes opened then, and he looked down at me, using his hand to brush stray hair from my face and the other to grip onto his cane for dear life. I looked up at him the whole time, making sure to convey through not only my actions but also my eyes that I loved this. I thrived off of his praise, I enjoyed the feel of his dick gliding over my tongue and hitting the back of my throat, and I longed to feel him coat the inside of my mouth with his release.

I was so entirely into him in every capacity, it wasn't even funny.

I was so glad he could tell, a smile grazing his features as his hand gently gripped some of my hair. "So eager to please, Princess... And so fucking good at delivering..."

I whined onto his dick as he held me down, rendering me immobile. The only thing I could do was look up at him and choke, and of course, I was more than happy to do it. In turn, I was met with a deep groan and a tug of the hair.

"Hold it, hold it... Atta girl..."

My cunt throbbed at his words, and my throat continued to burn, tears falling down my face at ten-speed until finally, he let up and pulled me off of him.

I coughed a little and blinked away tears as I caught my breath, Spencer's fingers combing hair from my face as he smiled proudly.

He didn't even need to say anything then. I wanted to give him more. So I leaned down again and took him in my mouth, quickly making work of his tip while my hand came up and stroked the rest of him.

"Fuck, Princess, just like that... Make me come just like that..."

Rather than just continuing, I offered him a high whine and a wide gaze, hoping to exceed expectations.

I guess it worked, because he came right then, his dick pulsing over my tongue and in my hand as his warm release shot down my throat and over my tongue. I hummed around him, fluttering my eyes closed at the taste and the feeling, probably enjoying the fact that I'd done this to him more than I should have.

It was worth it to see the look on his face, though, after he'd given me all he had and I purposely spit some of it out onto the tip of his dick so I could lick it up and give him just a little more stimulation after the fact. His mouth hung open, eyes heavy and unwilling to leave me, even as I finished and sat back to wipe the tears and saliva from my face with a satisfied smile.

Though, the longer he looked at me, the more shy I became. Funny when I'd just had his dick down my throat, but I'd never been good with people staring at me for long periods of time.

"Was that... Was that okay?" I asked, suddenly worried I hadn't done something to his standards. "I know I don't do this a lot, so I'm sorry if it wasn't that g—"

"Y/N..."

I blinked up at him, still on my knees and unwilling to move. Not that I wanted to, but I couldn't even if I had.

"That was fucking perfect... I meant it, you're... so good."

I knew he was capable of better words, but after having the life sucked out of you, I could imagine 'better words' were hard to come by. Still, I laughed a little, playing with the hem of my skirt. "Good. I'm... glad I could help."

He smiled at me, readjusting his pants and then moving to help me off the ground.

"Hey, uh... Even when you go back to your regular job after I get better, I... I hope you know you're always welcome to come visit me if we're not busy."

The words warmed me in a different way, my heart swelling as well. "You... You mean that?"

Spencer nodded, grabbing my hand and dragging his thumb over my wrist. "Of course. I mean, you're more than just a good helper, you know. You're also kind, and smart, and cute..."

I laughed at his emphasis on cute, heat warming my face. "Ha-ha..."

"I really mean it, though," he said softly, removing his hand from mind and bringing it up to lift my chin, so I'd meet his eyes. They were swimming with sincerity, the epitome of warmth and comfort and kindness— the kind that always drew me to him in the first place. "And... If you'd want to maybe ditch the paperwork one day and grab a coffee or something, maybe—"

"Yes," I interrupted without thinking. My heartbeat picked up upon seeing the look in his eyes when I agreed, a mixture of amusement and relief. "Y—Yes, I'd love to."

"Good. Then it's a date?"

"Definitely."

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[criminalmindzjunkie]

The More Loving One

Masterlist

Summary: Professor Reid finds himself falling for a student. 

A/N: This fic is based on this request. I changed a few things up, but I hope you like the finished product!

Long time, no see! It seems like forever since I got to sit down and just enjoy writing something. And enjoy this, I did. I approached this one a bit differently than I usually do, but I like how it turned out none the less. I hope you all enjoy my take on the Professor Reid arc. The first poem I use in this fic is titled The More Loving One by W.H. Auden, and the second is from a collection of Perry poetry.

Also, I recently hit 2k followers, which is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t even begin to explain how thankful I am for each and every one of you. This fic is my love letter to you. Thank you all so much. 

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: a few swear words maybe?, teacher x student relationship, age gap, exhibitionism (sorta?), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4k

           For as long as Spencer can remember, he’s always had a predilection for the finer things in life.

           Spencer attributes the origin of his preferences to his upbringing. In his childhood, before his mother’s disease got the better of her, she exposed him to all sorts of literature. While he ventured to read all types of writings, he’d always been partial to tales of extravagance. A young Spencer Reid sought refuge in the profligacy of it all, as it was so starkly different from his own reality. Forced to bear the burden of household and a sick mother from an early age, Spencer’s own life left little room for reckless indulgence.

           Now, as a single adult male, Spencer makes it a point to give himself up to the finer things as often as he can. Spencer isn’t a rich man, nor is he careless with what hard-earned money he does have. He simply likes to treat himself to the occasional five-star meal, and even more frequently, posh clothing and rare books. Walls lined with hundreds of antiquarian novels and a closet full of Comme Des Garçon cardigans are where the indulgence ends, however, and until recently Spencer was content with this.

           But when she strolls into his life on the very first day of his teaching career, Spencer knows that his small luxuries will no longer be enough to keep him satisfied. The part of him that longs to have only the very best roars to life as he takes in every perfect inch of her. She stands before him, the embodiment of divinity and grace, looking like every fantasy he only dares to conjure up in the late hours of the night. A litany of cliches from every piece of romantic literature he’s ever read spring to the forefront of his mind in the instant that her eyes met his, but there is nothing stereotypical about the way her gaze banishes the air from his lungs. It is as jarring as it is intoxicating. He never wants to look away.

           Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same. With a light flush of her cheeks, she turns away from him, and in an equally unfortunate turn of events, she proceeds to shuffle down the aisle and into the second row of seats to the right of the podium. The realization that washes over him feels like ice water in his veins.

           She’s a student. Worse even – she’s his student.

           Spencer wrenches his gaze from her as if he’s been burned, and the fiery shame of his embarrassment makes him tug at his collar. As he struggles to stave away the lingering heat in his chest and even more embarrassingly, the tightness in his trousers, Spencer chastises himself. His own carnal urges often go ignored, a fact that is glaringly obvious as he cowers behind his podium in an attempt to hide his arousal. He feels more than a little bit pathetic. No self-respecting thirty-five-year-old man gets hard just from gazing upon a beautiful young woman.

           When Spencer pulls himself together enough to start his lecture, he positively forbids himself to look her way. It is hard to fight the urge, but every time he catches his eyes wandering to her, he reminds himself that she is an indulgence he simply cannot partake in. No matter how badly he wants to.

--

           It doesn’t take long for her to notice him noticing her.

           In the early days of the semester, she manages to convince herself that the stolen glances are but a figment of her overactive imagination. That, or an unhealthy dose of wishful thinking. But as the semester stretches on and the professor’s eyes linger more and more, wishful thinking gives way to a startling realization that she isn’t alone in her attraction. Professor Reid is, to her complete and utter astonishment, just as taken with her as she is with him.

           This is all but confirmed when a slight brushing of the hands during an exchange of papers leaves them both with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. Both of their heads snap up, two sets of eyes meeting in a prolonged stare that results in an understanding of sorts. It’s mutual, this thing blossoming between them. She can see her own hopes reflected in two velvet pools of brown – can see the longing, the desire that burns within them. Her heart soars, as she imagines his does, and she accepts the papers with a smile.

           She also imagines that, if he could, he would tell her to wait for him. He would tell her that, for now, their relationship must stay strictly professional.

           This doesn’t stop them from sating their cravings in other ways.

           She makes it a point to stop by during office hours at least twice a week. Her visits always fall under the guise of her studies, but within minutes their hushed conversations stray from the professional and towards a more personal nature. She learns of Spencer’s mother and her condition, of his unusual job and his coworkers that were more like family. In return, she tells him about her upbringing in southern California, as well as her dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist. They never go as far as to discuss what will happen when the semester comes to a close. It is an unspoken agreement that the end of the semester will find them in each other’s arms. All they have to do is wait.

           Spencer can’t voice his affections with words, but he more than makes up for this with his actions. Without fail, every Monday following the very first clandestine brushing of hands, lavish bouquets of flowers arrive at her workplace. Each bouquet is always paired with a notecard inscribed with a brief explanation of the meaning behind that week’s flower of choice. Cherry blossoms to pay homage to her beauty, plumeria to symbolize their new beginning, agrimony to convey his thankfulness that she is willing to wait for him.

           Her favorite bouquet arrives four weeks before the end of the semester. As she steps through the doors of the bakery, a vase full of nine red roses sits atop the counter. The sight of them nearly takes her breath away. She pauses for a moment and runs her fingertips across the velveteen petals before plucking the notecard from its place.

           This week, Spencer chooses to forgo the explanation in favor of a messily scrawled poem;

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

that, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

we have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn 

with a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

let the more loving one be me. 

           That evening, Spencer receives his first bouquet from her. On his desk sits an arrangement of pale pink ambrosia.

           The meaning isn’t lost on him, but if it were, the note that sits next to the vase makes her intentions clear.

We never had to force love.

We were drowning in it from the moment we met.

--

           Spencer is horribly frustrated.

           A mere twenty feet away from where he stands, the notoriously garish and wholly unprofessional PhD program director is gesticulating wildly to the young woman that stands trapped between him and the hors d’oeuvre table. To find Professor Van Wesep in such a position is not uncommon, due to his penchant for trying to charm (terrorize) the prospective female doctoral candidates. The man is practically a walking harassment complaint waiting to happen. Spencer would abhor Van Wesep even if he weren’t the only thing standing in the way of him and his lover.

           At long last, the semester has drawn to a close. The lonely nights spent longing to hold her in his arms are a thing of the past. By the time the sun rises again, Spencer will no longer have to wonder what her body will feel like pressed against his. He’ll be thoroughly acquainted with every inch of her, and she with him. The thought sends a thrilled chill down his spine.

           The torturous foreplay they’ve been engaging in for the last four months would have surely broken a lesser man. Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted on more than one occasion to have her during one of her frequent visits to his office. Some days, when her visits came later in the evenings, just as the sun began to dip low in the sky, her eyes would glisten in such a way that told Spencer her thoughts were none dissimilar to his own. That glimmer of lust had him holding on to his restraint by the skin of his teeth.

           And here they were, on the last evening of the semester. Final grades had been submitted and were released hours prior. Spencer would have been content to skip this event altogether, in favor of more… recreational activities, but his lover insisted on attending.

           Initially, Spencer assumed her insistence lay in her desire to mingle with her future peers and mentors. Her true intentions come to light when she breezes into the room clad in a pair of sleek, designer pumps. Her lips, painted fire engine red, curl up into a playful smile at the sight of a slack-jawed Spencer Reid. The devious glint in her eye twinkles sinfully in the light.

           Tonight isn’t a social call at all. Tonight, she wants to play with him.

           And play she has.

           From the second she arrives all eyes are fixating on her celestial beauty. Peers and mentors alike trip over themselves in their haste to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment. She works the room flawlessly, leaving a trail of smitten men of all ages in her wake.

           The most smitten is Spencer himself, because he’s the lone recipient of countless heated glances, as well as more than a few knowing smirks. She well aware of what she’s doing to him, and she takes pleasure in watching him squirm.

          Spencer intervenes when Van Wesep makes the ill-advised decision to reach a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. He barely has the time to withdraw his hand before Spencer is upon them.

          “I apologize for the interruption,” Spencer casts a faux apologetic glance at his colleague, before settling his gaze on his target. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I speak to you for a moment?”

           She looks positively gleeful. Perhaps Spencer should have intervened hours ago.

           “Absolutely, Professor Reid.”

           The honorific sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He definitely should have stolen her away earlier.

           The two of them say their goodbyes to a confused Professor Van Wesep, whose imploring eyes follow them as they hurriedly slip from the party and down the hallway.

--

           “Where are we going?”

           Spencer leads her down a long corridor, far beyond earshot of the other guests. Pushing her into a dark corner, he positions her between himself and the cold wooden door of an unoccupied office. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant thrum of the music and the eager pants falling from his lover’s lips.

           Spencer pulls her into a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other finding purchase on her waist. He worries for a moment that he’s being too rough with her, that he should have taken a more careful approach to their first kiss, but she assuages those worries when she kisses him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hand reaches between them and clutches his tie, then she’s pulling him closer and whining wantonly against his lips. Spencer takes this as an invitation to slip his tongue inside and he finds himself letting out a low groan when he tastes a hint of strawberry.

           Spencer pulls away to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

           “Oh, I think I do, Professor,” she laughs, breathless. “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted to do this.”

           Spencer jolts forward when her hand slides down to cup him over his trousers.

           “Could’ve done that a lot earlier if you hadn’t insisted on teasing me for the entire night,” Spencer growls through gritted teeth. He’s more than a little proud of his ability to string together a sentence with her hand working him over with slow, steady strokes.

           He trails a line of kisses across the underside of her jaw, before taking her earlobe and nipping it lightly with his canine. Spencer’s actions are rewarded with a full body shudder. He dips his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat and her hands ball into fists against his dress shirt.

           “Spencer, please.”

           Spencer hums and pulls back to look at her. The hand in her hair lowers, and he trails a thumb across where her nipples are hard against the fabric of her dress.

           “Yes, my love?”

           Her eyes flutter against the weight of her arousal, and Spencer twitches in his pants. The sight of her with her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared on account of him is a heavenly thing. He doesn’t know how he ever deprived himself of such a splendor.

           “I want you. Right now.” She punctuates her words by pulling him down into a frenzied kiss. One of her hands tangles itself in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other busies with tugging his shirt out of his pants.

           “Right now?” Spencer taunts, mouth against mouth. His hand trails down the side of her breast, caressing her rib cage and her hip before stopping at her upper thigh. Spencer’s fingertips toy with the tops of her lace thigh highs. “But anyone could walk by and see us.”

           “I don’t care,” she argues, fumbling clumsily as she struggles to undo his belt buckle.

           Spencer’s wandering hand dips below the hem of her dress to explore the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. She’s soft here, too, he thinks to himself as his hand travels up, up, up. He stops just short of where she wants him most and she lets out a despairing cry.

           “You wouldn’t mind someone walking by and seeing you with your pretty legs spread wide for your professor?”

           Spencer brings life to his words by lifting her leg up, hitching her thigh around his hip and pressing into her. The silk fabric of her dress rustles as he pushes it up and out of the way.

           A breathy moan tumbles from her lips as he rocks against her, dragging his arousal up and down the front of her lace panties. The friction is maddening in that it provides only the smallest bit of relief. It’s not enough for Spencer, and judging by the way she desperately pushes down the fabric of his pants, it’s not enough for his partner, either.

           “Need to get these off now,” she murmurs against Spencer’s mouth. An eager hand tugs at the elastic band of his underwear.

           Spencer places his hand on hers, stilling her movements. “Not so fast, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.”

           Her fingers clamp down on Spencer’s wrist, guiding him to the sodden lace between her thighs.

           “Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she whimpers as Spencer’s fingers take appraisal of the drenched cloth. “In fact, I think four months of foreplay is sufficient enough. Wouldn’t you say?”

           “Maybe so,” Spencer muses, voice muffled as he sucks at the skin of her neck. “But I’m not willing to chance hurting you our first time together. You’re entirely too precious to me.”

           Spencer captures her lips in a kiss so sweet it has her sighing into his mouth. When he pulls away, he fixes her with a smile.

           “You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?”

           Her eyebrows pull together. “No, why?”

           Spencer pulls at the flimsy fabric harshly and it gives way under the force of it. He reaches back to stuff the thong in his back pocket.

           “That’s why.”

           Spencer’s lips come down against hers at the same time his middle and index fingers drag across her slickness. His foresight pays off when his mouth muffles the sound of her cries. As confident he is that they won’t be found, a cry like that would certainly have drawn unwanted attention.

           The swipe of his thumb across her crest paired with the gentle pressure of his fingers dipping into her heat is enough to make her legs buckle. Had it not been for Spencer pressing her against the wall, she surely would have fallen to the ground in a trembling heap.

           “I could get lost in you for hours,” Spencer groans, curling his fingers inside her in such a way that makes her clutch desperately to his shirt.

           “Spencer, oh my God,” she keens. “I need you, please.”

           “You have me, my love,” Spencer whispers the promise against her parted lips. “You’ve had me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

           Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers until the telltale tightening of her heat warns him of her impending climax. He has to bite down on his lower lip to regain his own composure. The feeling of her tight and wet around his fingers is almost too good.

           “Spencer, I’m getting close,” she whimpers.

           Spencer continues until she’s on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, until one more pass of his fingers against her crest would surely seal the deal, and then he’s removing his hand and taking a step back.

           “Spencer, what the fu-,” she pauses when he promptly shoves his pants and underwear just enough to free himself from their painful confines. “Oh.”

           A dazed smile makes its way to her face as Spencer presses himself against her once more. He sweeps her up into a kiss comprised of pure, unadulterated desire, before pulling away and smirking deviously at her.

           “Jump.”

           It takes a moment for her pleasure fogged brain to make sense of the request, but as soon as it does, she complies without question.

           Spencer’s hands grip her thighs firmly and in one swift thrust he sheaths himself into her fully – an indulgence so grand that all others dull in comparison. Now that he’s had the finest, felt it wrapped around him like warm velvet, he can’t imagine a world in which he must live without it.

           “Spencer!”

           Spencer swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound than her crying out his name as their bodies come together for the first time. It’s synonymous with a siren call, he thinks, because in that moment she could lure him to certain death and he knows he would go with a smile.

           His lips seek purchase on the exposed skin of her chest as he buries himself in her paradise again and again. The sharp sting of her heels digging into his back with every thrust brings out a sort of primal urge in him, spurring him to rut up into her like a man possessed.

           “You feel perfect,” Spencer groans out against the flushed skin of her neck. He presses a soft kiss to where her pulse bounds just beneath the skin before pulling away and locking eyes with her. “When I’m old and gray and can remember nothing else, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember how it felt to kiss you for the first time – how it felt to touch you. How it felt to worship you and make love to your body.”

           Spencer’s voices catches, thick and overwhelmed with emotion.

           “I’ll remember how it feels to love you.”

           Her breath catches in her throat and sharp pang of panic burns hot in his chest. Had he misinterpreted her affections? Did she not burn for him in the same way? Perhaps the ambrosia meant nothing. Spencer’s movements falter, and for several torturous seconds he’s nearly paralyzed with fear.

            She silences those fears with a kiss.

           “Oh, Spencer,” she sighs as she presses her forehead against his. “I love you, too. More than you could ever comprehend.”

           Spencer resumes moving in and out of her, but the frenzied feeling from before is replaced with something else now. Something softer, but no less passionate.

           “Yeah?” he inquires, searching her eyes for any trace of insincerity. He finds none, and it’s a relief. Any hint of falseness in her claim would surely lead to a heartbreak he could never recover from.

           “Yes.” The word trails off into a moan. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”

           Spencer’s heart jolts and he whines pathetically against her mouth. “I’m counting on that.”

           “I’m close, Spencer,” she pants, her breath hitting his face in warm puffs. “Don’t think I can last much longer.”

           “Me, too.” Spencer nudges her nose with his own. “Reach between us and touch yourself, my love. I want us to cum together. Can you do that for me?”

           She nods, and the hand that clung to his right shoulder dips in between them to rub tight circles against her crest. Spencer doubles his efforts when he sees her eyelids flutter closed, and the resulting tightening of her core leaves him panting hard.

           “Spencer, I-” her breath catches in her throat as Spencer delivers a particularly strong thrust. Her head falls against his shoulder, her soft moans of his name like heaven to his ears.

           “Cum with me, baby,” Spencer grunts out desperately. He needs it like he needs air to breath and water to drink. And once he has it, he knows he’ll need it again and again.

           She gives it to him with a muffled cry of his name and he’s instantly swept away, drowning in the blissful way her body sings for him. His body follows her lead, shattering completely under her fingertips.

           While he’s been through similar acts with previous partners, those instances always felt impersonal and clinical. The caresses and whispered words were all a means to an end, an end that usually left him feeling lonelier and emptier than when he started. But right now, as he feels the beat of her heart pressed against his own, he swears he couldn’t feel fuller - full of adoration, full of affection, full of love. It’s beautiful and overwhelming and everything Spencer didn’t know he was looking for.

           A raucous round of applause erupts from the direction of the party, startling the two of them. Spencer feels her laugh against his neck.

           “It’s almost as if they were applauding us for a job well done.”

           Spencer presses a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

           “As they should. That was sensational.”

           Spencer carefully pulls out and lowers her to the floor. He wastes no time in tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Spencer hopes his lips convey his gratitude.

           The two of them pull apart and set to making themselves presentable. Their efforts prove to be in vain when Spencer points out a dark purple love bite nestled into the crook of her neck. She counters this by taking note of the smudge of red lipstick on his collar.

           “What an adulterous pair we make, Professor.”

           Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not your professor anymore.” He bends down and places a kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his.

           “I suppose you’re not,” she muses as they meander down the corridor. “Whatever shall we do now?”

           As the two of them step out of the dark hallway and reenter the party, Spencer smiles to himself. Visions of wedding rings flit through his mind. Spencer supposes he’ll have to take a break from the posh clothing and rare books in favor of saving his money. He’ll buy only the finest ring for his future wife, after all.

           “I have a few ideas.”

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taglist: @90spumkin @moon-light-jukebox​ @whxt-to-write @calm-and-doctor @jessalyn-jpeg @pinkdiamond1016 @itsametaphorbriansblog @eldahae @itsmytimetoodream @kasaikawa @shadyladyperfection

[kaidenya]

Yandere Types ✧ MHA

Description: A breakdown of the types of yandere I think the MHA characters would be like. I will be using the Yandere Chart that I created in order assign each characters type and danger level. Part One :: Hanta Sero, Shoto Todoroki, & Tamaki Amajiki,

WARNING: yandere content, toxic relationships, v light smut NOTE: kidnapping, non-con, violence, in order of danger level, not proof-read, a shit post really

“If I can’t have you, no one can...”

HANTA SERO — 16

Motive :: Isolating (3)

Behavior :: Possessive (6)

Executions :: Wrong Idea Type (2) | Monopoly Type (5) 

Hanta Sero is extremely charismatic and many find it very easy to relax around him. Most people wouldn’t think the ability to fit in with any crowd was a disadvantage, but it had left Hanta with a shaking fear that he couldn't stand out among his peers. That was the last thing an aspiring pro-hero needed while trying to climb to the top. It’s because of this lack of control in his social life that his yandere motive would be isolating you. He would wish to keep you away from all things that could potentially draw your attention away. 

It wouldn’t take much to catch Sero’s interest. He’s a wrong idea type which means the shortest interaction can spark his interest- whether it's lending him a pen in a moment of need or smiling at him in passing. He would very much like to keep you safe, more so if you’ve been open to his advances. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he offered you substances such as cannabis or alcohol to speed up the process of you growing comfortable in his presence. He would get physical faster than most as he is naturally a touchy person, most likely going down on you multiple times before attempting to get pleasure from you. Hanta is very intelligent, it would be relatively easy for him to earn your favor, and making sure you are constantly satisfied would be a major factor. Besides, he has a wicked mouth that would murmur sweet nothings as he sucked and licked at your arousal making it nearly impossible for you to think about anything else.

You would not doubt that Hanta had your best interest in mind. Even when he would express his concerns about the intentions of others. He would appeal to your logic and be sure you knew how much you meant to him— how he couldn’t lose you. Of course, he was always right about the ones you decided to keep around despite his warnings. Whether they made you uncomfortable, turned their backs on you, or vanished completely- you always lost contact with them. By the time you've started to run low on outside connections, you wouldn't mind pushing people away. Hanta Sero would be your constant. Besides, his peace of mind meant more to you than certain relationships and you were sure he'd do the same for you.

SHOTO TODOROKI — 17

Motive :: Submissive (1)

Behavior :: Overprotective (5)

Executions :: Obsession Type (3) | Self-Sacrifice Type (8)

Shoto Todoroki is motivated by his family trauma. There is no doubt that he is touch-starved and desperate for affection, beneath his hard protective exterior, of course. He looks at life through a calm and calculating gaze. On the off chance that he came in contact with someone who caught his interest, he would keep his distance, which is for the best considering his social cues are severely lacking. He would most likely be the one to watch you for the longest before making a move. Shoto would be sure to look out for you without making it on your radar. There would be times he would even go as far as to turn away your potential suitor or lead you away from an upperclassman prank. His infatuation would only grow with time, but there would be a breaking moment where his yandere behavior worsens. It would be a particularly heartfelt moment between you, whether it's sharing a traumatic moment or assisting with an injury, that would push him past the point of no return. He would be obsessed. 

Todoroki's overprotective nature would take an aggressive turn when he would catch others interacting with you. It didn't matter if they had glanced your way for a beat too long or went as far as to seek out your attention. By the time he began courting you, rather than just watching from afar, you would begin noticing the changes in his behavior. Specifically when others were around. There would be a point when he told you not to interact with certain classmates. His social understandings would be his downfall as he wouldn’t note your negative reaction. Not until you stand up to him. After that, you could expect plenty of gifts and apologies. He would so clearly feel guilty and stop at nothing to make sure you knew that, to the extent that you almost feel wrong for being so upset. He was just worried that he would lose you.

The turn in your relationship would be when you grew intimate. Oddly enough you would have to be the one to take this next step in your relationship. However, once he's given free rein to touch you, he won't stop. Shoto isn’t the type to plan for one romantic relationship, let alone anything after his first love, so the moment he slid his cock into your tight, wet concave he would own you. 

TAMAKI AMAJIKI — 24

Motive :: Isolating (4)

Behavior :: Obsessive (3)

Executions :: Stalker Type (6) | Worship Type (10)

Tamaki Amajiki is rarely sure of himself or his actions despite his undeniable intelligence and talent. He had taken to hiding in the shadow of his peers, though that was difficult with best friends who pushed him into the spotlight. Being a member of the Big Three only drew the attention of more. It was safe to say that his anxious personality could be a setback. However, it also made him very observant. Through that observance, he can decypher environments and body language much faster than most. He liked to stand back and watch- to feel the tension around him. That tension would be suffocating when he officially met you. It could be a number of instances. After Nejire had knocked his books from his hands in a fit of excitement, arms swinging and sending the stack right to your feet. Or perhaps Mirio would be bursting into laughter, cheerfully slapping his arm and sending him tumbling into your around a sharp turn. Either way, he would be a stuttering mess. If you met his apologies with soft smiles or reassurance it would surely set his gears turning. 

It would be his lack of confidence that encouraged his yandere-like behavior, specifically stalking. Within a week he would be able to put together your schedule and your locker location. How he hadn’t noticed you before would remain a mystery as he would begin seeing you everywhere. Some days he would fall into step with you, keeping a safe distance as he marveled at your routine behavior. As time went on he would feel more confident in closing that distance. It would remain that way for a few months until something pushed his interest into a fixation. Every good quality that you possessed would become far more impressive to him and spur him to get closer— to learn more. He would begin breaking into your personal items be that your locker or bedroom, it didn't matter as long as he got closer to you. It wouldn't be surprising if Mirio and Neijire had started to notice the way his gaze would linger. They would take it upon themselves to reach out to you without realizing the severity of the situation. 

The tipping point for his yandere behavior would a moment of absolute panic. You would have already grown close, fully integrated with the Big Three, when you would begin spending time with another student. Tamaki would be able to contain his jealousy when it came to his friends, but someone outside of that close-knit group? He would see them as a direct threat and he would deal with it accordingly. In the beginning, he would explain how he feels comfortable with you, making sure you knew how different you compared to others. That would most likely lead to the two of you spending more time alone. If that didn't keep the threat at bay then he would waste no more time, prompting threatening or attacking them. In the long run, the only thing that would ruin his hold over you would be pushing too many people away and getting caught, but he would deal with that the best way he knew how.

[v-hope]

One Way Ticket

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader (ft. Yeontan bc Family)

Genre: Flufffff, established relationship, long distance relationship (not for long), and like, slight angst at the beginning if you squint your eyes and do a backflip

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Long distance relationships are never an easy thing, and although you and Taehyung had managed to make it work for four years and were used to not seeing each other that much already, he couldn’t help but feel like his birthday was ruined at the news of you being stuck at the airport due to a bad weather flight delay. However, although things didn’t quite go to plan, it only took for you to arrive two hours before the day was over for it to be his happiest of birthdays so far.

A/N: Hellooo, well, obviously this is for my man’s birthday 🥳💝 This story takes place in my Red Flags series’ timeline since one of you requested it and I thought it would be really cute, but you don’t need to have read it to understand what’s going on here. I hope you guys enjoy! please let me know your thoughts~

“You were supposed to be here today” Taehyung reminded you, unconsciously tightening his hold on the phone as his low voice did a good job at letting you know just how upset he was.

You sighed, that alone letting him know you weren’t having a good time with said fact that was just not happening anymore either. “I can’t control the weather, love…”

Now, he knew that. Of course he knew that. But right then, he really fucking wished you did control the weather. That way you wouldn’t be stuck in another continent still due to a snowstorm that had delayed, if not cancelled, all flights that week — a stupid snowstorm that was keeping you away from him for longer than you should have.

It was a joke. It had got to be a joke.

That was what Taehyung kept telling himself throughout the whole phone call, and continuing to believe —to wanting to believe— so even after you hung up.

You were supposed to arrive that night. That had been the plan all along. All his schedule he had rearranged so he could make sure that particular night he would spend with you. Just you and him. Since the very next day, also known as his birthday, he would have to go to rehearsal for BTS’ presentation on the 31th like every other year, he was looking forward the most to this night. He had it all planned out. Your flight would arrive at 8pm, he would pick you up and then the two of you would have dinner together back at your —now— shared place. You would wait up until midnight, have some cake afterwards, and then stay up late so you could, well, catch up on a few coupley things you had been missing out on for a good while now. After all, you had not seen each other in nearly five months.

It was funny, how he used to always say he would never be able to do long distance relationships when he was younger, yet here he was now, four years —and going strong— into one. It was hard as hell, he could not deny it, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way, not as long as he got to be with you in the end. And at the end of the day it was all worth it, for you had finally graduated uni back home, managed to find a job in Seoul, and were now moving in with him like the two of you had agreed on a long time ago, once you realised you were most definitely sticking together for as long as your lives allowed you to. So, even if he had to wait a little longer to see you, this time it was different, for you had only gotten a one way ticket, and he would never again have to drop you off at the airport and cling on to you like his life depended on it, somehow being harder for him to let go of you as the years went by.

Nevertheless, it sucked. Right then, it really fucking sucked. Five months had gone by without seeing you already and turns out he would now have to wait one or even two more days than planned? Bullshit. And that if he was being optimistic, because he swore to God he would lose his shit if you had to spend New Years Eve on a plane, alone. Not like you were spending it together to begin with either, since he had that thing to attend to, but you would at least have a good time with some of the friends you had made during the time you had stayed in Seoul for your uni’s exchange program, and who had now invited you over to a party you had oh-so-excitedly told him about.

That night, Taehyung went to bed late. Still wanting to believe with everything in him you were just pulling a prank on him like you loved to do every now and then, and that you would walk through the front door anytime with that tired face of yours after the long ass flights to Korea he was so used to by then — the same exhausted face that would light up as a bright smile took over your factions instead at the sight of him.

However, that night, you did not make it home. What you did make it to instead, was to be the first one to congratulate him on his day. Over the phone, yes, with the airport’s background noise and not in person like he had wanted to, yet there you were being once again the first one to do so, at exactly 00:00. And somehow, that alone was enough to make him happy before going to sleep. Not as happy as he would’ve been with getting to sleep with you in his arms, of course, but happy nevertheless.

He did not lose faith, though. The next morning, as he got ready to head out to rehearsal, he kept glancing at his apartment’s door over and over, still waiting for it to burst open anytime and for you to walk inside right after.

When that didn’t happen, he looked forward to the moment his members brought him his birthday cake as they waited in the dressing rooms for their turn to rehearse. Now, the guys hadn’t told him they were bringing him cake, but after all these years it was pretty much a given. And it would only make sense that you were there, right? Whether it was bringing the cake to him as everyone in the room sang the traditional birthday song to him, or showing up as a surprise right after.

Once that didn’t happen either, he couldn’t hide his disappointment anymore — still being grateful to everyone else for trying to make his special day a memorable one, yet not being able to fully enjoy it without you there. Even falling in the cliché of wishing for you to be there as he blew out the candles. That was truly all he wanted, after all.

And once his schedule for the day was finally cleared up, his last hope was walking into the apartment that night and seeing you already there waiting for him.

Again, that didn’t happen.

Biting the inside of his cheek as he walked into an empty apartment, although Yeontan was there to excitedly welcome him back home and had managed to bring a weak smile to his face, he couldn’t help but feel his eyes well up with tears. Telling himself over and over how stupid it was to be upset over something neither of you could control, he contemplated calling you for a few seconds, shaking that thought off with a tilt of his head and deciding to go take a hot shower instead. No matter how bad he wanted to, if he did call you, he knew for sure he would end up being even more upset than he already was, and then you would end up being upset as well, and that he did not want.

Not even bothering on drying his hair later that night, he changed into his pyjamas and called Tan to go keep him some company like it was usual by then. Watching the fluffy dog make himself comfortable on the mattress, Taehyung turned the lights off so he could get into bed for once and for all — wanting nothing but to sleep that day off so you would hopefully be there by the morning. Although it would no longer be his birthday, he wished he could at least get to spend some time together before he had to head out once again.

Before he could completely doze off, however, he felt Yeontan snap up from his sleep and effusively wave his tail from side to side as he ran to the closed door of the bedroom. Letting out a tired groan, Taehyung glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, staring at the number ten on it for a second before he turned the lamp on and fixed his eyes on his excited pup.

“I already fed you,” his voice came out hoarse at the lack of speaking, catching Tan’s attention for a second there before he was back at barking at the door. “Don’t tell me you want to go to the b—”

That’s when the sound of a key making it inside the front door’s lock caught his attention. And, you see, only two people had a key to the apartment. One was his, of course, and the other one, much to his excitement right then, was yours.

Not even having time to catch his breath, he jumped off the bed and opened the bedroom’s door, watching Yeontan sprint down the already illuminated hallway as you had just turned its lights on — a huge smile parting his lips at the sight of you, not being able to hold back a giggle of his at the way you had panicked and closed the door harder than you had intended to, so Tan wouldn’t be able to run out of the apartment.

“Tan-ie bean!” you excitedly greeted the pup first thing as he reached your side.

Struggling to move past your suitcase, you managed to kneel down to pet the cute ball off fluff with one hand as you held the other one as far up as you could, holding a strawberry cupcake with a single candle on it that you had already lit up right before coming in — maybe not your brightest of ideas.

Staring up at your boyfriend, who was still on the other end of the hallway, you smiled brightly and stood up straight as he came closer. “Happ—”

Before you could even finish what you had initially planned to sing and had by then settled for cheerfully chanting instead, Taehyung had already pulled you into his arms — unintentionally blowing out the candle as he had rushed over to you way faster than he’d like to admit.

“I missed you” he mumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around your figure and burying his face in the crook of your neck as he felt his heart at ease.

You smiled sweetly, wrapping your arms around him as well —being careful enough not to stain his designer pyjamas with the cupcake’s icing— and pressing down a small kiss to his shoulder.

“I missed you, too” you cooed, hearing him giggle when you planted a kiss on his neck this time.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting on a plane already?”

“Because I thought I would get here before you came back from rehearsal and I’d surprise you. You know, wait for you with dinner and whatnot…” you pouted. “But then of course I had trouble with my luggage and got here way too late. So I got you a cupcake and a candle instead!”

Taehyung giggled at the way you had ever so cheerfully said that last part, pulling slightly away from your body so he could glance at the cupcake in your hand you had just raised up in a victorious way.

“You could’ve just showed up barehanded, said ‘happy birthday’, and I would’ve been the happiest”.

“You interrupted me when I was about to tell you ‘happy birthday’, though” you huffed over dramatically.

Letting out a light laugh, he securely cupped your face in his warm hands and rested his forehead on yours, smiling blissfully as ever at how close he was able to have you right then, at how he was able to feel your warmness in his hands after all those months. “You can say it again now”.

“But you already blew out the candle” you pouted, bringing the treat closer to him so he could see your point.

“I guess this is the moment my wish comes true then”.

“You didn’t even get to make a wish, you idiot” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, I did” he nodded his head determinedly. “Earlier today. And not to brag about it, but it already became true”.

“Was it perhaps for me to arrive today?” you coyly batted your eyelashes, earning a very visible roll of eyes from him.

“Cocky, aren’t we?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, taking a step back from him and his hold. “I can always go back home and send your actual wish ov—”

“Yah,” he stopped you as you dramatically turned around to pretend to leave and Yeontan followed right after, pulling you back to him by your wrist. “I didn’t spend pretty much my entire birthday wishing for you to get here so you can leave me just like that” his eyes turned softer, yet still held that playful vibe in them. “Besides,” he pulled you closer, this time by your waist. “Funny how you said ‘go back home’ when this is your home now, baby” your heart skipped a beat at his remark, appreciating the way he looked up and puckered his lips as he pretended to fall deep in thought. “Hm… Maybe I misheard”.

You giggled at the way he had copied your overdramatic ways, bringing your free hand up to sweetly caress his cheek. “My bad, love”.

Taehyung smiled, with that boxy smile you fell in love with years ago, and nodded softly to let you know it was alright. “Can I get my birthday kiss now?” he murmured, ever so faintly brushing his longing lips against yours. “I’m kinda dying over here”.

Shaking your head in amusement as you laughed, you bit your lower lip. “Just kiss me already, you dork”.

So he did, not even dreaming of wasting another second before his lips hungrily crashed against yours. He had missed you like crazy, he always did, but right then, as your soft lips were pressing on his and your hand made its way from his cheek to the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his still damp hair, he realised just how bad he had craved your touch, how bad he had craved you.

Having him deepen the kiss, you couldn’t help but take one step back as you had lost your balance — his hand being quick to bring your body right back to press against his, later resting on your lower back to keep you steady as his other hand firmly cupped your cheek.

“Happy birthday” you mumbled against his mouth when you had pulled away to catch your breath, feeling the corners of his lips curve up before he pressed them to yours once more.

“It is now” he hummed, drawing tender circles with his thumb on your chin and not being able to hold back a giggle when it was you the one to steal a kiss from his mouth right then.

Your breath hitched when you felt his hands made their way down your body, letting out a squeal when they grabbed your thighs and picked you up without a warning — your arms wrapping tightly around his neck and legs around his waist as his hands were firmly placed on your ass to keep you from slipping down while he walked the two of you out of the hallway and into the living room, having Yeontan run past you two and go lie on the couch.

“Yah, I just got here and you’re already going for second base?” you teased him with raised eyebrows.

Taehyung shook his head, cockily raising one of his own. “I’ve earned my right to all bases a long time ago, I don’t know what you’re talking about”.

“Don’t get too cocky, Kim Taehyung” you warned him as he sat you down on the edge of the counter, being careful enough not to knock down one of the pictures of the two of you that were neatly displaying on it. “I might revoke all your rights”.

“You wouldn’t” he daringly squinted his eyes. “Not on my birthday”.

You threw your head back, letting out a loud laugh and placing the cupcake down on the counter before you went back to his eye level. “Only under two hours until it’s over, so...”

“You wouldn’t” he repeated confidently.

“What makes you so sure, old man?”

Shaking his head in amusement and deciding not to comment on the taunting name you had just called him, he didn’t even try to hide the smirk that was curving up the corners of his lips as he leaned in. “I just know”.

Not even trying to play it hard anymore, you met his lips in the middle, humming contentedly when he placed his hand behind your neck so he could take control over the kiss he was not quite willing to let go of yet. And neither were you, which is why your eyes remained closed and your lips slightly puckered up —clearly wanting more— when he suddenly pulled away one minute later.

“Okay, now tell me my birthday present!” he demanded.

Still being too stunned by the intoxicating kiss he had just given you, it took you a second to open your eyes after hearing his muffled yet excited words against your lips — eyes locking with his excited ones as his hands unconsciously rested on your thighs.

“Oh, it’s in my bag!” you jumped up once you managed to understand what he had meant. “Let me go get it”.

Although your words were meant for him to move aside so you could get up on your feet and rush over to the forgotten suitcase on the hallway, Taehyung did not move an inch — if anything, tightening the hold of his hands on your thighs to keep you from going anywhere.

“Not that one”.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “The cupcake?” you offered, earning a light laugh from him, along with a small shake of his head. “Sex? Because I know I was just threatening with revoking that right, but since it’s still your birthday, I mean...”

Taehyung laughed wholeheartedly, once again shaking his head no as he brought his face closer to yours. “Although I would love that and will take you up on that offer later,” his bold words managed to bring some heat to your cheeks. “That is not what I meant”.

“What did you mean then?”

“Just want you to tell me something...” he hinted, gently caressing your sides. “How long will you be staying, baby?”

You rolled your eyes when it finally hit you what he had meant all along. And you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at how such simple things were the ones that made him the happiest. “Well, considering I only got a one way ticket over here this time,” your heart sped up at the way his smile grew wider at the sound of that. “And that the rest of my stuff will arrive here in a few days… I’d say I’m staying for quite a long, long time”.

“How about forever?” he smiled brightly.

You giggled, tilting your head up in anticipation as you felt him lean in to press his mouth on yours. “I like the sound of that”.

“I love the sound of that” he agreed, pressing another kiss to your smiling lips.

And you truly did, for although you were leaving everything behind, your family, your childhood friends, your culture... it was easy as long as you had him. And even though you knew there would be times homesickness would hit you like a truck, especially when the time came and Taehyung would have to go on tour with his group, you were ready to start your new life here with him. You had already lived here once for a year, after all, the only difference being you now got to live with your long term boyfriend, and, of course, that you wouldn’t have to count down the days until you had to go back home and away from him anymore.

“Everything alright?” he wondered, catching up on the way you had momentarily spaced out.

“Mhm…” you were quick to reassure him with an eager nod of your head. “Now eat your birthday treat before I do” you threatened, grabbing the cupcake that had been lying next to you all along and bringing it up to his face.

Taehyung chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck that was sweetly followed by another one. “But I have my birthday treat right here…”

Although flustered by both his words and the way his lips kept peppering soft kisses all over the sensitive skin of your neck, you stood your ground. “Pretty sure I’m your girlfriend, but oh well”.

He chuckled once more — before you could react, dipping one of his long fingers on the icing and spreading a good amount of it on your lips. “Now you’re both”.

You didn’t really get to fully laugh at his playful antics before the sound of it was muffled by his mouth sucking on your bottom lip, his fingers holding onto your chin to keep you from pulling away as he deepened the kiss — making sure to remove every last trace of icing on your mouth before he slid his tongue into it.

Breaking the kiss for a brief second for what he thought was to catch your breath before bringing your already swollen lips back to his awaiting ones, he found himself letting his jaw drop when you opened your mouth not to kiss him once more, but to bring the infamous cupcake up to it and loudly bite down on it.

“Yah, that is my strawberry cupcake!” he called you out — although trying to act mad, having a hard time hiding his smile at the way you had just covered your full mouth as you laughed whilst trying to chew right then.

“You weren’t eating it, so…” you shrugged.

Before you could take another bite, however, he grabbed your wrist, quickly moving it up to his mouth instead and shoving the entire baked good into it in just one go.

Petrified after what just happened, you stared at your now empty hand — amazed by the way he had managed not to bite into your fingers with how fast and forceful his mouth had been, before your eyes fixed on your full-mouthed boyfriend as he struggled to chew the whole thing down.

“Mine” he stated, not minding to cover his mouth as he was almost done with it already.

“I tend to forget how big your mouth actually is” you admitted, mindlessly sucking the remains of icing from off your fingers.

Taehyung scoffed, rushing to swallow down so he could properly speak. “You out of all people should know what my mouth can d—”

“You know,” you cut him off before he could pronounce that last letter and bring his cocky point across. “Booking a return plane ticket sounds really tempting right now”.

“Oh, yeah?” he tauntingly raised one of his eyebrows, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter and making you wrap your legs around his waist. “Good thing from now on those return tickets will bring you right back to Seoul”.

That was what made him the happiest. After all those years of buying ticket after ticket, all those years of having to drop you off at the airport so you could go back home, all those years of having to wait for endless months just so you could see each other for a few days, all of that, was over now.

From that night on, this was your home. You, him and Yeontan, and of course, the eventual additions that would be made in a couple of years.

And that was the best part. No matter where you travelled to from now on, you would always just go visit abroad and return right here, back to him — never again being almost about to miss his birthday, for you would both go to sleep and wake up right next to him during all the upcoming ones, just like he had ached you to do every single day ever since you got together four years ago.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xiii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 635

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello friends!!! here is the next update :D i hope you enjoy the read! it's been a v long week for me so it's nice to just unwind hehe. thank you for the support & love you all!!!!

“Are you going to just … stare at me?” Jungkook clears his throat as his eyes dart anywhere but forward. It was less uncomfortable that way.

The two people in front of him don’t flatter him with an immediate response, instead; they stare him down harder until Jungkook can quite literally feel the stare of their eyes burning a hole into his forehead. He nearly shrinks into his seat, but he manages to pull a somewhat neutral expression even if he was on the verge of a meltdown.

“Maybe.” Jimin retorts snappishly.

Jungkook knew Jimin would be the pettier one between the two, but again; it’s not unwarranted. So he sucks it up like a big boy and nods his head slowly in understanding.

However, Taehyung was a different situation. His blank face was already intimidating as it is and Jungkook’s known him ever since the two of them were in middle school. More often than not people mistook him for cold and disinterested, whereas he usually just got lost in his thoughts.

But it’s obvious when Taehyung doesn’t like someone. He doesn’t put up a front to pretend that things are dandy and that he vibes with you. No, Taehyung’s blank face returns and it’s tenfold. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t just that, that resulted in the permanent vacant expression etched onto his expression—it’s paired with the fact that Jungkook’s an idiot and this is his punishment.

Jungkook knows better that Taehyung isn’t the type to take things head-on (like Jimin), but rather allow people to ruminate in their thoughts as he stares you down with a gaze so intense that it feels like he’s unpacking every single stray thought that passes by your mind. Jungkook is aware, but he’s never had to be on the receiving end of it.

“Are we going to, uh, order?” Jungkook asks, hands gripping the menu tightly.

Taehyung still stares, and Jimin narrows his eyes at the younger boy.

“You know ____ hasn’t arrived yet, right?” His tone is accusatory and Jungkook feels himself pale.

“I didn’t mean—okay,” He sighs in defeat, “We’ll wait.”

Jimin eyes him carefully before opting to skim through the menu. Jungkook knows it’s a front to not have to engage with him since they’ve frequented the same diner more than enough times for the waiters and waitresses to know their orders by heart. It’s been a while since they came here, and Jungkook knows that he’s partly to blame.

It sucks, sitting here in silence when he remembers that the three of them, you aside—used to engage in stupid banter and talked about the most random things like college boys do. They were his best friends, Jungkook grew up with them and he distinctly remembers always getting into trouble with the two boys until their parents only sighed every time they saw them returning home with guilty expressions ridden on their faces.

Now the banter is replaced with tense silence, but it doesn’t feel like it’s over. Jungkook hopes, at least.

Before Jungkook can say something else, he feels someone slip into the empty seat next to him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” Your voice is sweet and cheerful, and it’s nice to hear you like this again.

Jungkook looks up and sees you smiling at everyone, oblivious to the strained mood of the table before you came.

“Don’t apologise,” Taehyung says for the first time, offering you a small smile, “We were waiting for you, weren’t we?”

Jungkook stiffens, fully aware that it was directed to him. He wanted to lamely interject and say that it wasn’t what he meant, but he knew that Jimi would give him more shit for that anyway.

“You didn’t have to!” You exclaim.

Jungkook feels somewhat satisfied at the scowl that plagues Jimin’s expression, but it’s quickly covered with a beaming smile in your direction as he calls over a waiter.

“We know our orders, right?” Jimin asks.

You nod, smiling brightly; clearly excited to be here again.

And Jungkook feels nice, too. It’s nice being here, with the three of you—even if Jimin and Taehyung were still giving him the cold shoulder it was much better than pretending like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.

“It’s nice to be back,” You smile to yourself after the four of you order, and Jungkook can only agree.

.

Maybe it wasn’t so nice, after all.

Because the entire time, Jimin and Taehyung were dead-set on making Jungkook feel the guilt of his actions tenfold when they pick apart at every word he offers into the conversation.

“Have we not been here for that long? Even the interiors changed a little.”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. Who’s fault is that?” Jimin says off-handedly, unbothered to even cast him a glance.

“Wait, really? There’s a forum coming up?”

“Didn’t we all know? _____ is the one who organised it.” Surprisingly, this came from Taehyung.

“I’m stuffed.”

“With bullshit—?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Your voice is loud enough to silence the entire table and even causes a few other patrons to turn their heads in the direction of your table.

Jimin is blinking at you with wide eyes, as Taehyung only gapes at the decibel of your voice that he’s never heard from you before. Jungkook only presses himself against his seat, and subtly inches away from you.

But you turn your head towards him and shoot him a glare so venomous that he stiffens in position.

“Don’t you dare shift away from me, Jeon.” You warn threateningly.

Jungkook swallows, too stunned to move.

Then, you turn to face the two unblinking men.

“And you two,” You narrow your eyes at them menacingly, “I told you that I’d deal with this on my own so why are you the ones holding grudges?”

Jimin opens his mouth to respond, but Taehyung is nudging him with his elbows to shut up.

“I expected better from you!” You cry, “What are you guys, five? Or is that how many brain cells you have combined?” You scowl. They’re still blinking at you when you continue to fume. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s less than that because at the rate you’re acting I’m beginning to think that this fork better conversational skills than the three of you.” You hold up your utensil for good measure and the boys can only blink at you.

The last part is directed to everyone, and Jungkook can only listen to you rant as he presses himself against his seat.

“I just wanted to hang out like usual.” You flutter your eyes shut in annoyance, “I asked for one day—one day!” You exclaim, “Just to be with you guys because we haven’t done that in forever. And you couldn’t push aside whatever hostility you have towards Jungkook for this?”

You sound so disappointed, and your voice subdues out into a whisper when you glance at the table. Jimin and Taehyung had the decency to look guilty and apologetic when they realise that you were actually serious about it. Because rarely have you ever blown up, if not—ever.

“_____, we’re sorry—” Jimin begins.

“Are you?” You snap irritatedly, “I told you that I didn’t want to make things complicated and here you guys are—doing exactly that. I resolved whatever I had to with Jungkook, and let’s not pretend like he was the only one at fault here. The two of you are opening a closed book and it’s unnecessary. I just wanted to hang out with you guys and laugh about our balding lecturers, is that so much to ask for?”

“I think—” Jungkook begins, feeling slightly more confident to speak up after you’ve somewhat defended him, but the way you snap your head to him to send him a blazing look shut him up immediately.

“And don’t think you’re off the hook either,” You seethe, “Jimin and Taehyung have every right to be mad but they don’t have the right to ruin the atmosphere of our hangout right now. That doesn’t change the fact that you messed up.”

Your words are sharp, and his eyes widen when you scold him. It oddly feels like the three men were being lectured by a parent, and it’s not far off because you’ve always been the level headed one amongst the four of you anyway.

“I’m sorry, ____.” Jimin offers apologetically, but your ears are flushed for obvious reasons before you mutter an excuse to head to the bathroom.

When you storm off, the three men stare at each other unblinking for a few seconds before Taehyung breaks the silence.

“Listen,” He sighs, “Clearly, Jimin and I are pissed.”

Jungkook’s eye twitches, that’s an understatement.

“But, we have a right to be—like she said,” Taehyung continues. Jungkook doesn’t argue there, “But we care about her as much as you do, and we don’t want her to feel any more disappointed than what she had to feel for the past month. So we’ll drop it.”

“Why are you speaking on behalf of the both of you because I’m pretty sure hyung is staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath, off-put by Jimin’s unwavering glare.

“He’s not far off.” Jimin retorts, then he sighs, relaxing his features ever so slightly to look at Jungkook with an expression much softer than what he’s received so far. “I’m disappointed in you, and I probably will be for a very long time. But … you’re still my best friend, and even if I feel like knocking you into every available surface I’m willing to push that desire aside if it means we can make ____ happy.”

Jungkook blinks.

“I …” He croaks, “I’m sorry, to the both of you. I messed up and … I really regret it.”

Taehyung offers a small smile, “You don’t have to apologise to us. It’s ___—”

“Yeah, I know.” He clears his throat. “But the two of you are my friends too and you’ve done nothing but guide me even if I acted like it annoyed me most of the times; I really appreciated the things you told me, even if I blatantly went against it.”

Jimin purses his lips, staring hard at the boy.

“I want us to be okay too, as much as I patched things up with her; you guys are my best friends as well,” Jungkook says softly.

“If ____ forgives you then …” Jimin mutters, though Jungkook can tell it comes from a good place. “I guess I can work with that.”

It’s something, Jungkook thinks.

But then you’re still not back and the three men look at each other in worry.

“I’ll go get her,” Jungkook declares, but before he can push himself up—Taehyung is stopping him with a hand and a cock of his head.

“I’ll do it.”

And when he leaves to get you, Jungkook and Jimin are left in a mini stare off, the awkward atmosphere still tense enough. Not until Jimin gestures to his face.

“Your cheek …”

Jungkook sighs.

“You know there are people who need to pee too, right?” Taehyung hums outside the cubicle. He’s sure you’re in there because he spots your sneakers through the slit, and he’s lucky enough he can because he wasn’t sure how else he’d explain him leaning outside a stall while he talks to it.

You stay silent, dabbing at your eyes with the tissue you brought in. You feel a little stupid for crying about it but you hated the atmosphere out there. It was weird and awkward and the four of you never had moments like that. You always had things to talk about or even just to laugh at each other. The silence and glares were suffocating, and you couldn’t help but feel like it was all your fault.

“I’m going to piss on the floor if you don’t open the door.” Taehyung threatens in a bored tone.

You sniff, loud enough for him to hear as you roll your eyes at his ultimatum.

“Don’t think I won’t do it, _____.” He warns, and you hear fabric rustling that has your eyes widening.

“Don’t pee on the damn floor!” You hiss.

“Then open the door.” Taehyung retorts smartly.

You scowl, glancing into the mirror one last time to ensure that your eyes weren’t as red as you hoped they to be. It comes to no avail because your eyes are puffy enough to tell him that you’ve been crying, and you knew that you couldn’t lie your way through it.

“I’m giving you five more seconds,” He calls, “Five … four … three … two—I’m about to piss—!”

You unlock the door and pull it open, and greet Taehyung with a vehement glare of your own as he smiles down at you, but only for a bit until he notices the puffiness of your eyes and the pout of your lips.

“You know it’s kind of depressing if you lock yourself up in the cubicle of a diner to cry.” He says softly, arms reaching out to bring you into an embrace.

You don’t fight him, even if you don’t make an effort to hug him back. You were sulking.

“Well that’s what happens when your best friends are acting like assholes.” You snap back in a sniffle.

He sighs, patting your head gently as he forces your arm around his waist; shooting you a stern glare that you roll your eyes at.

“You know we’re looking out for you.” He chides gently, and you feel very much like a petulant child when you huff at his response.

“I just wanted to hang out with you guys without things being weird.” You mumble against his chest.

“I know.” He hums.

“But you had to make it weird.” You complain. “What are you? A social justice warrior? I told you I could deal with it on my own.”

Taehyung chuckles, squeezing you a little tighter as you scowl into his shirt. You knew you were being a little dramatic but you didn’t want the dynamics of the group to shift just because of the situation you got yourself in with Jungkook. Even if you were in love with him and he was … in love with you. Your friendship with the three of them meant the absolute world to you.

“I’m sorry,” He apologises, pulling away slightly to look at you with sincere eyes.

You look away and sulk.

He sighs, knowing that it would be much harder to get you to feel better than just an apology.

“Look, I’ll lay it off and I’ll make sure Jimin doesn’t overstep either. Promise.” He offers with a smile.

You look at him with tentative eyes as you raise a brow at him.

“Isn’t Jimin with Kook right now?”

Taehyung opens his mouths, then closes, before he wraps an arm around your shoulder to tug you closer into his grasp.

“After this. I make no promises that Jimin hasn’t caused bodily harm on Jungkook in the meantime.” He says.

You snort, picturing Jungkook cowering or at least avoiding Jimin’s eyes now that they were alone. You knew that the bruise on Jungkook’s cheek was Jimin’s doing, and while you already talked his ear off for that, you appreciated the gesture. Even if it did look like it hurt like a bitch.

“I just want things to go back to normal.” You mumble, fiddling with your thumbs.

Taehyung nods his head and sighs.

“It will. We’re okay. You’re okay. We’ll be okay.” He comforts you with a soothing tone.

You nibble on your lips, “I guess …”

Taehyung stops in his tracks as he was about to bring you back out when you mumble those words so softly he nearly misses them.

“You guess …? Is there something—?”

“I just,” You sigh, “Jungkook and I spoke and we … cleared things up. But it’s still … it still sucks.” You finish lamely.

Taehyung gives you a sad smile before turning you around so that he can grab onto your shoulders.

“What he said doesn’t define you. And I know for a fact that he’s beating himself up over it. It sucks because he’s your best friend and he was the one that said those things to you. But none of that is true because you’re the most interesting, smart and best girl I know.” He smiles at you, even when you flush and look away.

“Stop …” You whine, avoiding his gaze and you hear him chuckle.

“Jungkook’s dumb. He’s our friend, but he’s dumb.” Taehyung snickers.

You roll your eyes but a smile teases the corner of your lips.

“It’s not just that …” You mumble softly, pink dusting your cheeks. “I told him that I was in love with him.”

At this, Taehyung quite literally chokes on his breath.

“You—what?!”

You scowl, “God, you don’t have to be so loud.” You thwack his chest and even as he winces he still has a stupefied expression on his face.

“You … love … what?” He blinks, “What the hell did I miss? Does anyone else know? When did this happen?”

You huff, “Look, that isn’t … important. Not now, at least. I told him that I needed time to sort things out myself and … yeah.” You murmur softly.

You know Taehyung wants to press further, but he doesn’t do that because your demeanour says to drop it. He sighs, pulling you into his embrace once more before he gives you an easy smile.

“Take all the time you need, okay?” He reassures you softly, and somehow it does feel a little better.

“Were the extra ten laps really necessary?” Jungkook pants, hands falling onto his knees just as he completes the last God forsaken round.

“I don’t know. Were they?” Namjoon hums, opting to skim over Jungkook’s hunched figure with a shrug.

“You’re holding a grudge on me,” Jungkook says in a tone of disbelief.

Namjoon shoots the younger boy an unimpressed look.

“Am I?” He returns, and Jungkook already feels the incoming headache approaching.

“Look, I get Jimin and Tae because the two would literally die for her … but you?” Jungkook exasperates.

Namjoon sighs, clicking the pen in his grasp before shoving it into his back pockets. By no means was Namjoon unnecessarily intimidating, because besides the fact that he towered over most people and frequented the gym as his second home; he was a decent guy and great company.

That, and he never imposed his authority as the captain of the football team onto any of the footballers, or his peers, which made him all the more approachable and likeable. Jungkook had nothing against him, but after finding out that he too had feelings for you; he’s bound to view the older boy differently.

“Jungkook, I already told you—you’re my friend and I like you.” He deadpans, “But you’re also an idiot so you’ll pay for being one. It’s really that simple.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “And this has nothing to do with your feelings for her?”

Namjoon snorts, waving him off as the rest of the footballers come pooling out of the changing rooms.

“I think you’re projecting a little,” He snickers and ignores the look of disbelief that covers Jungkook’s face when the footballers start gathering around the two.

“He made you run an extra lap?” Jimin snickers.

Namjoon hears this and smiles, “Ten.” He corrects.

Taehyung lets out a low whistle before patting his sullen-looking younger friend on the back while he scowls. Jungkook couldn’t say anything because he’s aware enough to know that his mouth was the one thing that got him into most of the trouble he’s ever got himself into. So he swallows his pride and wipes his sweat, even pretends to smile tightly at Jeonghan when he asks why.

The practice is brutal, well; for Jungkook at least.

Jungkook knew that Namjoon was a strict but reasonable person by nature; and to a certain extent, petty. The only reason he knew was because of his feelings for you and that irked him. But he didn’t know how far Namjoon was willing to go just to prove a point, to you or to Jungkook; he wasn’t quite sure.

But Jungkook’s pride gets the better of him when he waves off concerned stares from the rest of his members. Even Jimin looked mildly worried when Jungkook was required to do an extra circuit or two just because his form looked ‘off’.

Jungkook’s form hadn’t looked off since high school.

And that’s how you find him, splayed out on the ground as he pants for air and stares up at the sky as if he was waiting for God to pick him up.

“Why are you on the ground?” He hears you before he sees you.

And when he opens his eyes, it’s like he’s seeing an angel. He’s half-convinced that he’s died and gone to heaven because your confused face is peering down at him from above.

“I think I’m dead.” He wheezes.

You roll your eyes, immediately squatting next to him before you shuffle through your bag to take something out.

Jungkook can’t even be bothered to ask what it was, but only when you press the object against his forehead and he feels the cool touch of a cold bottle; he ironically melts into the feeling.

“Here.” You thrust the bottle to him.

“God I lo—” Jungkook’s out of it, but not that out of it to let it slip.

You seem to notice, and your ears flush at the near slip-up. Jungkook clears his throat before attempting to sit up, head spinning at the suddenness of his actions.

“Thank you,” He rectifies his mistake immediately, offering you a meek smile.

The sheepish smile you return him with is enough. And he misses you even if you’re right in front of him; because things had been off for so long and having you back … even if you weren’t his, felt better than ever.

But Jungkook’s never pined for anyone else besides you, and it’s tiring. Yet, when you smile at him it feels like it’s worth it.

“Are you checking up on the corpse?” A voice interrupts Jungkook’s dazed expression when he stares at you for a second too long.

He turns his head and sees the cause of the numbness in his legs.

Namjoon is all smiles when he jogs over, Jimin and Taehyung following closely behind as they snicker at the interaction.

“You didn’t have to be so mean.” You pout up at the taller man, standing up as you only reach the height of his shoulders. It would’ve been cute to Jungkook if Namjoon didn’t look so taken with you.

“Someone’s gotta take care of things for you,” He jokes, ruffling your hair.

Things have been going better enough for people to poke fun at Jungkook, and even if he flushes at any mention of what happened—he knows that he’s got to deal with the consequences.

He didn’t know that the extra touchiness from Namjoon’s end was one of them.

“Never thought I’d see the day the great Jeon fall.” Jimin snorts.

You raise an eyebrow.

“What?” He shrugs, “He’s always telling us hyungs that he could one-up all of us with his eyes closed.”

Taehyung nods while Namjoon only chuckles at the statement.

“Not saying that you deserve it but you deserve it, man.” Taehyung laments.

Jungkook scowls from where he sits on the grass, but you’re nice as always when you reach a hand out for him to grab.

He stares at it, struck again by your kindness. And when he looks up the evening sunset flares behind you and you looked like a painting in a museum.

“Wow.” Jungkook blurts.

He didn’t mean to, and everyone caught on his stupefied expression.

“All right,” Namjoon rolls his eyes, tugging Jungkook up himself as the younger boy scowls at the moment being ruined. “Up, loverboy.”

You huff, turning on your heels to hide the way your cheeks had turned red when you noticed Jungkook’s gaze lingering longer than it should.

Taehyung and Jimin shoot each other a look, one that goes missing from you and the two other men. In fact, Jungkook shoots Namjoon a glare that he blissfully ignores in spite of trailing behind you, taking advantage of the fact that Jungkook’s legs are too wobbly to catch up.

“What the—?”

“Hurry up, Jeon. Yena’s waiting and you know how she gets when people are late!” Namjoon calls over his shoulder, before offering you a dimpled grin and grabbing your bag to alleviate the strain on your shoulder.

Jungkook knows that things are better and he’s damn grateful he’s able to be around you without watching over his words anymore. But the childish and immature side of him turns green when he sees the shy smile you return Namjoon.

He knows, that you feel the same way. But somehow his mind overthinks it and asks: what if?

“You look constipated,” Taehyung mumbles off-handedly, clasping a hand to his back when Jungkook stays rooted in position.

“Deserved,” Jimin says.

Jungkook scowls, dejectedly following close by as the five of you walk out of the field.

“That was absolutely uncomfortable.” Yena declares the moment she steps foot into your apartment.

You scowl.

“It wasn’t that bad …” You mumble.

Yena flops herself onto your couch and raises an eyebrow as if to say really.

“Listen I know you and Jeon exchanged vows and a dowry the other day but Namjoon is definitely a close contender. I swear I saw him whipping out a pen mid-meal to write you a love poem.”

You groan, flopping face forward as you stuff your scream into your cushion.

“Why me?” You cry.

You can feel Yena rolling her eyes behind you.

“Oh boo-hoo, your life is so hard. Two hot beefy men are in love with you, wow—things must be so difficult. Would you like a free pass in a therapy session?” She mocks pouts at you when you lift your head to glare up at her.

“They are not …” You remember what Jungkook said and you clear your throat, “… Namjoon isn’t …”

Yena scoffs.

“Well he’s definitely breaking ten different traffic laws to get there.” She retorts.

You slump back into your couch as you stare up at the ceiling.

“I thought things would get better.”

Yena shuffles until she’s settled comfortably next to you, “Are things … not?” She asks carefully.

You sigh, fiddling with the edge of your cushion.

“They are, don’t get me wrong.” You say softly, “It’s just that … I know Joon has feelings for me, and I know … I mean Jungkook is Jungkook,” You explain lamely and Yena awaits your continuation patiently. “I’m not stupid. I’m pretty sure they’re both aware of their feelings, and Jimin and Taehyung are just the bystanders witnessing shit hit the fan. And I’m … well, I’m there.”

“You mean you’re the main character.” She interjects.

You scowl, chucking the cushion at her as she dodges with a cackle.

“Things are better but they’re still weird.” You mumble.

Yena sighs, nodding understandingly as she pats your head softly.

“But you said you needed time, right? To figure things out on your own?” She asks.

You nod your head.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “I do. I mean, I know what I feel and I’ve felt this way for a long time. The only person I’ve ever … loved … is Jungkook. But I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of proximity and familiarity or because he was the only person that I’ve ever … you know.” You gesture your hands ambiguously but Yena gets the point.

“I understand.” She nods, “But things won’t be easy, not at first at least. It’s weird, I know. Going from your best friend to a potential lover, a stranger to a man who’s willing to put his star quarterback on the line and two best friends who are well—they’ve always been overbearing but they’re there.” She ends with a roll of her eyes.

Your face crumbles, “Why are things so complicated?” You cry, leaning onto her shoulder as she sighs and rubs a finger over your shoulder.

“You’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t owe anyone anything, remember that okay?” She hums softly.

“Just because you stare at them long enough doesn’t mean you suddenly get telepathic abilities.” Jimin snorts.

It’s been fifteen minutes since Jungkook’s stepped into the library, courtesy of Jimin who wanted to study for an upcoming test with him. It’s a step towards mending their friendship, and Jungkook is immensely grateful; so he didn’t think twice before responding to Jimin that he’d be their stat.

But he remembers that Jimin is cunning, not maliciously, but very impertinently. He was smart and sly all at once, and while he didn’t explicitly state anything—the timing seemed all too perfect for it to be purely a coincidence.

“Not staring,” Jungkook mutters.

Yet, his eyes remain trained on your figure.

Jungkook’s always had issues with envy, ever since he was younger. If someone made the cut before he did, he’d internally curse them out in his head and work ten times as hard out of spite. It’s somewhat toxic, but it allowed him to outdo himself every single time he felt that familiar green eyes emotion. He’s also no stranger to jealousy, and he’s remembered feeling the very same feeling he’s feeling now multiple times throughout his life, all for similar reasons.

You.

It wasn’t just because you were great at everything you did, excelling in your academics and extra-curricular, making students and superiors around you impressed with your work ethic. You were never ordinary; in fact, all you did in your life was outdo yourself in every single aspect and Jungkook always admired and envied that. It always made him feel like you were in two different worlds, where Jungkook had to work twice as hard compared to anyone else to achieve peak efficiency while you seemed to breeze by the things that you did.

Even when the two of you were in high school, he’d always fantasise what it would be like to be with you, to kiss you and to hold your hand or call you his. But he’s never thought you’d ever see him that way because all you’ve ever alluded to was him being nothing but a friend, a younger boy who had the stars in his eyes. If only you knew that it was a reflection of your face.

And the feeling is all too familiar, even when he first came to college and remembered seeing you interact with different guys that all seemed like they were taken with you. How could they not be? You were soft, sweet, kind and understanding—never the type to impose yourself or make others feel uncomfortable. You were a perfect combination of soft and relentless, the mixture of your best qualities and it seemed like Jungkook wasn’t the only person who saw that.

And he knew, he knew that you’d never lie to him, explicitly at least, or about things that mattered. So he doesn’t count your feelings, but it’s frustrating to have you right there but not at all. Especially when he recognises the look on Namjoon’s face intimately when he looks at you, bodies pressed adjacently in a booth in the library.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Jungkook scowls.

Jimin blinks innocently at his friend before a cheeky smile appears on his face, his hands pausing in between the sheets of his textbook.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He feigns innocence.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, further slumping in his chair before he forces himself to tear his wandering eyes away from you.

“What a way to rekindle a friendship …” He mutters dryly.

Jimin stares at Jungkook pointedly, “Hey, the library is open to all students. Don’t go pointing fingers at me.”

“Jimin, I literally suggested we head to an overnight cafe and you said if I wanted to fix us then I had to listen to you,” Jungkook says dryly, “And I quote—or else.”

“Okay, maybe I may have been projecting a little—”

“Jimin …” He groans.

“But look, it’s not the end of the world so don’t go ahead and get your panties in a twist, all right?” Jimin snorts, “Just 'cause she’s over there with Mr Beefy doesn’t mean you’re out of the race. Let’s just say you’re sporting a broken foot.”

Jungkook only responds with a bland look.

“That doesn’t—”

“—and a dislocated knee. Maybe a torn hamstring?” Jimin ponders like the details actually mattered. “Yeah, a pulled hamstring. A torn ACL too for a kick. And you know who’s fault all of that was?”

Jungkook sighs, “Yes, Jimin, I know. It’s me—”

“No. It’s me. Because I’m planning on dragging this out as far as I can even if you and she made amends. You fucked with someone I cared about and this is how I hold you accountable. I’m going to draw out every lone interaction she shares with Joon and make you watch it like the porn you consume in an unhealthy amount. I’ll make it so that all you’ll see when you close your eyes is the way hyung looks at her and how you can’t do anything but watch.”

Jimin says all of that in one go and with an unblinking stare. If Jimin was looking for a reaction, he definitely got one because Jungkook is gawking at him with a disturbed expression at how utterly menacing he looks.

“You’re fucking terrifying,” He exhales.

“And you’re a little shit,” Jimin returns with a huff. His eyes dart behind Jungkook for a second before his smile is expression is replaced with an evil grin, “Oh, look at that. He’s brushing her hair back—how cute.” He coos.

Jungkook groans, sinking into his chair when Jimin snickers.