#the teeth aren’t even especially prominent in the chapter

[minecraftbookshelf]

Me, working on the next interdimensional-prison break chapter: “I just really like characters with sharp teeth, okay.”

[maevethewerepuppy]

Puppy HRT - Part 5: Continuing Growth

A/N: Okay so I didn't intend to write over 2600 words for this chapter, so I cut this part down to 1800 including a small section from Kara's perspective. Gonna use the remaining words for the next part of this little series.

-Mae

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A growl escaped my throat, a deep guttural sound that filled the room as I tore the fabric apart with my teeth. I panted as I released the object from my mouth, running my tongue over the lengthening canines in my mouth. My teeth had grown sharper and canines more prominent over the last few weeks.

“What are you doing out here?” Kara came around the corner in a bit of the rush. My growl must’ve been louder than I expected as she had been editing parts from her stream for a highlight reel. My ears flicked up on the small rotors in the implants on the top of my head as I heard her steps approaching. The new implants were a wonder to behold. The two-pointed ears had begun to feel more like my ears than the ones I had been born with, aided by the noise-cancelling earplugs I almost permanently wore in them. The hypersensitive microphones in the canine ears helped focus my mind onto new feelings and emotions I could express with them, along with the touch sensors that ran through nearly every part of the ears and right to my brain. I could feel even the slightest breeze on them now. And especially the feeling of Kara’s fingers right against the base of them when she gave me scritches. My new tail was equally as sensitive, with it uncontrollably moving with my subconscious emotions and thoughts. It wagged, tucked and moved so fluidly that in the week or so since the day at the pet store, it was almost natural to have the fluffy appendage move around without thought.

I looked over at Kara with the little stuffed bunny’s top half still hanging off one of my teeth by a thread.

“Hailey! No! I just bought you that one!” She exclaimed exasperatedly, rushing over to pick up the pieces of the toy. My tail wagged eagerly as she looked over what I’d done. I knew she’d be upset for a moment, but she’d forgive me. She always told me I was too rough with the new toys ever since my teeth started to bother me as they grew in properly for a healthy puppy-girl. She knelt, putting it down and pulling my head into her hands, “Hailey. C’mon, we talked about this. You need to stop chewing on the toys that aren’t meant for it!”

“But it’s so much fun! Fabric is so much nicer to pull apart!” I protested, huffing as I looked into her eyes.

“Yeah well, you keep it up and I’m gonna have to put the muzzle back on! You know how much you hate that!”

My ears flicked back at that and tailed stopped wagging. It pulled back in against my body at the idea of the muzzle, and I shook my head slightly. “No! Not the muzzle! Please, no!”

“Then stop being such a bitey girl.” She huffed right back at me, scratching the back of my head right up to behind my fluffy pastel blue ears. I melted right into it and those worries melted out of my head. That tingly buzz replacing those thoughts as she gave me that gentle touch.

“Okaaaaay…”

“Good puppy.” She gave me another pet on the head, “You keep being good for the rest of the night, and you can come cuddle me for a bit before bed, okay? We have a big day tomorrow.”

I tilted my head in response, trying to recall what tomorrow had in store. It’d felt harder and harder to pay attention to which days were which now. I’d try to think about things that were upcoming, but I could barely remember what Kara said she was going to have for dinner that evening. My ears flopped to the side with the tilt, adding to the confused puppy look I was giving her. “What’s tomorrow?”

“You don’t remember? It’s the day we start with new hypnosis files. We’ve had you on the puppy behavioral ones for so long now, I know it’s become second nature,” She informed me, giving some more light scritches and tilting my head back upright, “But we need to start getting you deeper in. You are going to be a good girl for me, and not fight me on this right?”

I wanted to open my mouth and protest, but I kept it closed and nodded. I was really not looking forwards to any more files, the idea of becoming more dog-like was still terrifying. But I was also backed into a corner at this point. With the implants, and how far along in the HRT process I was, there was little chance that it could be reversed at this point. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t scared of losing my humanity. Remembering that gave me the courage to speak up, however. “I… I don’t know, Kara… This all still feels like a lot, are you sure it’s necessary…?” I asked, my voice weak as I looked into her eyes, “I mean… Maybe we should see if the regular HRT process would still work, and we can- “

“Shush now.” She silences me with a soft kiss on the lips. My heart fluttered and eyes went wide for a moment before I found myself kissing back. She gently bit my lip as she pulled away, “I’m certain puppy. Just accept it, okay? You’ll be a lot happier if you aren’t fighting the changes the whole way.”

“I’m… I’m still just a bit unsure, Kara…” I protested softly, even as my face heated and turned a bright shade of red from the kiss, “Giving everything up… I’m so nervous… What about my family, friends…?”

She gave a soft laugh. Even before the ears made me hypersensitive to noises, her laugh was always magical and made my heart flutter in a way that softened me. Kara took my hands in hers, and squeezed them softly, “Oh puppy. They know. All of them know. I’ve been sharing your progress, and they’ve been sending me nothing but praise for you. Your online friends have been super understanding why you haven’t been around. Don’t worry.”

“Y-you what? You’ve been sharing this?”

I think the mortified expression on my face was a funny one for her, as she just giggled more at me. “It’s okay puppy! Don’t worry that pretty little head about it, okay? You just worry about being a good girl for me, and that’s it.” She gave me another scritch before standing back up. “Now make sure you eat all your food and drink your bowl full of water. I want you to be nice and satisfied for your new files tomorrow.”

-Kara

Hailey was laid out on my bed while I quickly connected the cables from my computer directly into her ear implants. I could tell she was nervous; her tail was tucked up between her legs and she was constantly giving little whimpers. I just kept giving her reassurances in my softest voice, followed by the gentle touch of my fingers right behind her ears as I finished hooking them up. The benefit of them over even the earbuds that she’d worn during those early days was that I could ensure that even the most intense files (which included implant stimulation triggers and deepeners) would be put directly into her mind. I just needed to upload them, and I didn’t fully trust the wireless process to not cut out due to some technical issue and leave her dropped halfway through a training session.

“It’s okay puppy. Just relax and be good for me. Listen close.” I told her, giving a soft touch to her nose as I spoke. She gave a small flinch, something I still worried about with her. She wasn’t used to loving or gentle touch, and every little movement was a shock to her system. Hailey looked up at me and nodded, her eyes filled with worry.

“It’s… It’s too late for me to go back right…?” She asked me again, and I nodded softly. I felt bad for lying to her about it, but at this point I was committed. She was so scared, panicked and shut off as a person. I just knew she’d be so much happier as my committed dog.

“Too late to go back now, Hae. But it’s okay. I’m going to be right here to take care of you.” I promised her. That last part was true at least. She was just so precious to me now; I wouldn’t back out of taking care of her. Over the last couple of months, we’d grown so much closer and I doubted I could ever go back to having that quiet, lonely roommate who made my heart break every time I saw her.

I turned, and clicked the play button on the file, and watched my puppy’s eyes close as she relaxed. From what I’d read about, these files directly from Whyte Wolfworks were some of the best and would start really pushing her down the path I wanted. They were an intense mix of pleasure, obedience, and sexual state training. Slowly breaking down all those repressed ideas that had been built up during her first puberty and through her adolescence and bringing them out again.

It was just… So perfect. Looking over her sweet body, naked except that black hoodie I could never seem to fully train her out of wearing no matter how much I’d tried. But the rest of her clothes - pants, shirts, underwear, socks - were all gone now. Washed and sent to a donation center. She’d not even noticed when I did that a few weeks back. But I had to admit, seeing her in that sweater and wearing her pretty trans flag collar was so sweet. She’d barely even resisted when I’d made sure to use the small lock built into the buckle to make sure she couldn’t take it off without permission. The only times I’d let her so far were showers, and I hadn’t noticed her trying to take it off yet.

Yesterday’s little dispute was the first time in weeks that I’d seen some of that fear of what was happening to her come back out again, and I was so scared that she’d accidentally snap herself out of pup-space completely. Thankfully following Wolfwork’s guidance on dealing with issues like this and focusing her attention on her sensation of touch had helped and dropped her back down into that beautiful state of dumbed-down trust.

I glanced back after a few minutes of getting lost in thought at Hailey, watching as those two fluffy ears twitched and flicked with sounds only heard inside her head. Her tail relaxing against the bed with the rest of her muscles as the file played. I glanced back at the name – “Ownership Obedience and Scent Affirmation Training, Module 1 - with a soft smile, satisfaction filling me as I imagined how she’d be at the end of the day.

I reached over once again to her head and gave her twitching ears a gentle rub. “Good girl. You are going to love this so much.”

[cazimagines]

Born to be wild - Chapter 1

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren't prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s note: And away we go! First chapter lads. This is a long series so a lot of building up to do so stick around. Idk how frequent updates will be but I will try to make them quite frequent

Warnings: Reference to misogyny, swearing

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Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

You were here.

Finally, after years of preparation, years of people, men, telling you that you couldn’t do it. That racing was a man’s sport, that a woman could never have the same skills, drive and determination that men had when it came to racing. That you just couldn’t do it. Now you stood here, feet on the warm cement, eyes glimmering with excitement as you looked over the F1 banner, ready to enter the garage for the first time, ready for qualifying for tomorrows race.

The first female F1 driver.

Ever since you were a little girl you had the need for speed. You created your own go-carts out of spare bits and bobs your father had from his garage. You raced the other neighbour’s kids down the street to see who would win and be crowned the coolest kid around. The way the wind flew through your hair, the feeling of it rushing past your face, seeing everything move slowly and fastly at once, it was intoxicating for you. When you first found out about Formula 1, it was still in its early days and people often would take the mick out of it, your parents included but you badgered them constantly to take you to a race, and finally, after years of begging they gave in and took you to see it seeing how your heart was set upon it.

After watching the race you had instantly turned around to them and told them that was what you wanted to do. You wanted to be an F1 racer. They tried to persuade you to seek a different job, a respectable one for a lady such as a secretary. They even suggested that you could be a secretary for an F1 team, but that wasn’t what you wanted and you would never feel that satisfaction in life if you weren’t within that seat, if you hand wasn’t on that wheel, if you weren’t crossing that finishing line.

It had been a rough start. No one wanted to hier you as they thought you would be nowhere near as successful as a man could be. Time and time again you were trying to apply for test outs and met with rejections at every corner to the point where you even considered just throwing your hat in. Would you be spending your whole life just trying to get in but being denied all the time just because you were born a woman. But when you were at your lowest you were met with a shining light. One team wanted to try you out. They made no promises but they were willing to give you a try, and that was all it took.

Once you were out on the tracks you could show off your skill, your ability to make quick decisions, how you were able to work the car to how you wanted it and no one could deny after that, you were a dam fine driver. You were taken on and started racing in small F3 races, in the hopes that a bigger company might spot you and choose to get you into F1, and after a few years of waiting, it happened. You were signed on.

A lot of other people from F3 were in an uproar about it, claiming you did all sorts of things to get in, claiming it was only for diversity but at this point, you didn’t care. Everything you had ever wanted was coming true. Your whole dream was becoming a reality and now there was only one last step for you. To win the championship.

You had been signed on to the F1 team, ‘Tyrrell-Ford’ and previously a week ago you had met your new teammate, Patrick Depailler. You had been worried about how his reaction might have been to you, fearing the man might have felt offended merely by your presence but he had been exceedingly nice to you and quickly your fears disappeared into excitement for getting to work with him.

You could see him now, coming out of your shared garage, holding up his hand in greeting and smiling politely at you. He wore a blue boiler suit, similar to yours, he had a white turtle neck under which just about poked out of his suit. His hair was cut short and stuck to his head in sweat from the warmth of the day but still, you could see the slight curls within the hair. He had a more prominent jawline than some men but his most distinctive feature upon his face was his large nose. You strolled over meeting him halfway and his grin grew as he placed a firm hand upon your shoulder, shaking you slightly.

“You’re first time on the grounds here in Brazill huh? How you feel?” he asked, his french accent heavily accentuated as his hand, tightly grasping your shoulder makes you walk beside him as he leads you to the main area.

“Amazing, I feel so excited being able to be here and I just can’t wait to get in the car and get out on the course!” you eagerly told him, bouncing on your heels, making him chuckle.

“I still feel the same way after all these years. I haven’t been able to stand still yet. But all in due time. I think it’s time you meet the rest of the racers”

Your fist naturally clenches as sudden nerves light up within you, but you swallow trying to push them down. You were used to meeting new people and you had every right as they had to be there. There is nothing to worry about.

“How do you think, they will… you know”

His face turns to yours again and offers a sympathetic smile, knowing the struggles you’ve likely gone through already to be there. “Most of them? Won’t give two shits. All they will care about is if you can drive well. They are men though, especially one of them I’d advise keeping an eye on. He’s gained quite the reputation around other women” he begins to explain but cuts himself off as he chuckles. “There is, of course, the rat, but he’s an asshole to everyone so you need not worry about him”

“I assume the first one you are talking about is James Hunt, and the rat would be Niki Lauda,” you say, thinking back to all the research you had been doing on the racers who you would be joining on the tracks.

“Ah so you’ve done you’re research, smart girl. Yes, you’d be right, but the news doesn’t truly show you what it’s like to know these men. They’re likely not what you expect”

He then pauses again and huffs in a burst of slight laughter, “Or maybe they are exactly what you expect”

You both turn a corner and instantly you felt eyes gaze upon you as you reach the section where all the drivers were preparing to start the qualifying. Patrick still kept a firm hand upon your shoulder as he guided you around, introducing you to all the other racers. Some of them like Patrick were nice and wished you well for tomorrow, some of them were standoffish, hardly saying any words to you as they looked at you in distain, and then Patrick leads you over to the man who currently had his legs spread out on his seat and was flashing you one of his well-known grins as his shaggy blonde hair falls down over his face. His jawline was incredible and made you feel like you could cut yourself on how sharp it was. He was seen as Britain’s heartthrob and everywhere he went he had women drooling over him, and looking at him in person for the first time you could understand why.

“James Hunt, he needs no introduction,” Patrick says, motioning his hand to James and instantly he was off his seat and extending his hand for you to shake.

“I’ve always said we need more girls around and in the cars, I’m glad they are starting to listen,” he says shaking your hand firmly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you” you reply back, still almost in a daze, you were standing before the James Hunt.

“The pleasure is all mine love. I’m looking forward to getting to know you on the track” and then he pauses, and winks at you, “And off the track. I assume you’ll be attending all the parties. They are the best aren’t they Patrick”

“They are known to become quite a ruckus”

“But that’s all the fun! You’ll love them, you look like the kind of girl that would enjoy a party like that, uh?”

You almost mentally slapped yourself in realising you hadn’t even told him your own name yet, “Y/n, y/n, l/n”

“And that, is a beautiful name, like one of those greek goddesses”

You scoff though your lips twitch up into a smile. You cross your arms as you slowly start to grow used to what James is like, “And how many times do you repeat that to all the women you try to woe?”

James’s eyebrows furrow and he puts on a fake frown at your words, “I have you know, I have never said that to another woman before”

“Do you even know the names of the Greek goddesses?” Partick asks and James was quick to reply with “That is beside the point”

It causes the three of you to laugh though. Like you had seen in all the newspapers James was a flirt, a playboy, but he seemed like someone you could get along with, share a few jokes with and that you were looking forward to.

“You’d think with the amount of laugher here this wasn’t a place where people risk their lives and die”

James tilts his head back and lets out a groan of fake annoyance as he then turns around and you can see the man standing behind James, hand on hip looking extremely pissed off. His hair was a lot curlier than Patrick, and a lot thicker. It was chestnut brown with complimented his hazelnut eyes. His hair was all messy though, scattered across his forehead, the roots starting to become soken with sweat. While he didn’t have the cutting jawline that James possessed which drew women wild, his cheeks bones were more pronounced likely due to the most distinctive feature which was his overbite. His lips covered most of it but still, you could see his two front teeth slightly, which had earned him the nickname, the rat.

“Well, well if it isn’t the rat” James states, sucking his lip onto his top teeth to imitate Niki’s overbite in an attempt to make you laugh.

“Do I have to tell you every time, I don’t mind being called a rat. Rats are smart-”

It seemed as if Niki was going to continue talking but James cut him off again, leaving Niki to suck his cheeks in, in annoyance.

“Why are you here Niki, can’t you bugger off somewhere else”

“I came to see what was causing a buzz in everyone. I don’t understand the excitement”

James steps aside so Niki could see you clearly and Patrick finally takes his hand off your shoulder to introduce you to him.

“Niki, this is y/n, she’s Tyrell-Ford’s new racer”

Niki scoffs, his eyes looking you up and down in distain. “Everyone knows Tyrell is crap”

Patrick’s kind smile falters, a usual grimace that usually appears when talking to Niki arrives on his face instead. “Yes thank you for your opinion, Niki, we all really needed to hear it”

“You’re welcome. Still, I don’t see what all the fuss is. When other drivers join you couldn’t give two craps James, only when you have the chance of getting your dick wet are you suddenly alert”

James’ fists clenched as his face reddens and he takes a stride towards Niki, ready to go for a blow till Patrick steps between them trying to calm down the situation. “He’s only trying to aggravate you to throw you off your game before qualifying James”

“He’s a cunt, and needs a punch right in that ugly face of his” James seethes, taking one last glance between you, Patrick and Niki then storming off to try and cool down. You on the other hand were glaring daggers into Niki, also angered by his rude remarks about you. Niki feels your gaze and his face turns to you again, matching your heated eyes with his ice-cold ones and he refused to break eye contact first.

“When they say you are an asshole, they really mean it huh” you finally spit out.

“I only say what is true, if that makes me an asshole then so be it.”

“I trust that means you don’t have many friends”

Niki tilts his head as he continues to observe you, “Why would I need friends? I’m happy as I am”

You could feel your irritation for him grow stronger and you open your mouth to continue arguing with Niki when another driver jogs up to him, placing his hand upon his shoulder, “Niki, the boss wants to talk to you”

Niki frowned, in confusion and annoyance but shoved his hands in his pockets, mumbling under his breath about how he had seen the boss only half an hour ago. He took a few steps away before pausing and throwing you another look over his shoulder, his lips still cast in a frown “Good luck for tomorrow. You will need it”

You sucked on your bottom lip, trying to not shout back at him and give him the satisfaction of an answer. When he was a safe distance however you muttered under your breath “What a dick”

“I’m sorry about that y/n, but he’s like that with everyone, it’s best to ignore it,” Patrick tells you, shooting you an apologetic glance before turning to the other man. “What did the boss want with Niki?”

“Oh nothing, I just said that so he would go away”

The man cracked a smile and held his hand out to you for you to shake, “I’m Clay Regazzoni, Niki’s teammate”

The swiss man had tanned skin, a bushy moustache and long dark hair but his features were kind and certainly appeared a lot friendlier than his teammate.

“Niki’s teammate? I don’t know how you cope with that” you say shaking his hand back.

He grins at your statement, clicking his mouth as if thinking, “Alcohol, a lot of alcohol”

And with the removal of Niki’s presence, the laughter was brought back to the atmosphere.

“But really, Niki, he says what’s on his mind, and usually all shit and not worth listening to, but he’s an okay guy when you get to know him, you just have to put up with his bad days” Clay finally says as the three of you are able to control your laughter again.

“Which are most days” Patrick finishes.

Clay took a glance over to the direction where Niki had gone five minutes ago and with a nod of his head bit the two of your farewell, claiming he should leave before Niki gets back demanding to know why he had lied to him. Now you had met all the drivers, Patrick leads you back over to your shared garage, and with an excited smile, he lifted up the gate for you to be able to take a look at your new car. It was dark blue with your number and name pressed onto the side surrounded by a few sponsorship brands. Your heart nearly skipped a beat as your eyes widened in excitement.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

You smile, your eyes never leaving the car, “I was born ready”

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[thebadbatch]

The Bad Batch: Soft Universe

Chapter One - Just like you.

Sudden waves of calm sent drastic waves throughout the Havoc Marauder, the newly dubbed Attack Shuttle that five advanced clones called home along with a smaller clone, a child with pure generation I DNA who also called the ship her home.

The calm waves were well welcomed among those within the ship, they had only just completed a mission that had been given to them by Cid, a rather dangerous mission at that. Yes, they were used to blaster fire, it was in their blood to adjust to it.

They were literally made to contribute their own blue fire to intertwine and drown out the blazing red bullets that threatened many on an unfortunate daily basis. Despite how they were made, every clone needed a break after a while, especially the young clone - or so they had thought anyway.

"That was Amazing!" Omega Squealed, rushing over to the others who had thrown themselves into their assigned seats in the cockpit absolutely drained after their Solid twelve hour mission. "Don't you guys think So too?" She took a Sharp breath in, channelling her energy through her legs as she rushed to each individual member of the batch. "You were all so Cool! And did you see me with my bow? I'm getting so much better at it, aren't I crosshair?" Her large eyes darted toward crosshair who was currently slumped against his chair, a new toothpick against his teeth. 

"I Suppose so." He mumbled, looking away from her energy filled eyes and focusing on the calmer view of the billions of Stars that littered the Space before them. Omega's previous smile Somehow got even bigger at Crosshair 's mumbled praise. 

"You did great, kid!" Wrecker beamed, going toward Omega and patting her back with a lot less force compared to the other members, but due to her Small size she still stumbled a little which caused a laugh to leave her lips. "And it's the end of the mission so you know what that means!" She practically became the beaming twin Suns of Tatooine at this point.

"Mantell Mix!" She Shrieked, bouncing in her Place as Wrecker laughed at her enthusiasm. Suddenly Hunter chimed in, turning around in his chair and rubbing his head, the Previous mission leaving him with a Simple patch of bacta on his arm and an absolute killer headache due to the planet's atmosphere messing with his senses. 

"Is Mantell Mix really the best idea with Omega?" His voice chimed in, "She's already excited enough I don't think Sugar will help." Omega and Wrecker Stared sadly toward their Squads leader, Pouting a little at his disapproval.

"But it's tradition!" Wrecker intersected, a bouncing omega next to him clinging to his side to encourage him to change his mind, they just had to have their Mantell Mix It was the only option. "And it makes the kid happy." Hunter let out a Sigh, rubbing his head a little more and giving them both a rather Persistent gaze.

"Are you sure it's just the kid that makes it happy?" He asked, referencing Wrecker who's eyes always lit up at the sight of the sweet tasting treat, he just crossed his arms in response though.

"The Mantell mix should be fine, She seems to be experiencing an adrenaline rush due to the intensity of the Mission." Tech Paused for a moment, fiddling with the datapad that laid within his grip. "Symptoms may include a rapid heart rate, Sweating, heightened senses and of course the most obvious ones of rapid breathing, decreased ability to feel pain and what's intriguing is there's actually an increase of Strength and performance - hence her bow Skills seemed to improve rather drastically during that mission." Tech paused again to type a little into his datapad browsing through the various load of knowledge before making eye contact with a fidgety Omega, still bouncing on her feet. "Oh and of course, the most prominent symptom in Omega is feeling jittery or nervous and can't Sit Still. It helps the excess energy I presume." Wrecker had of course stopped listening half way through, but was a little Worried about their Omega. It was a very chaotic and tough mission, they had a few close calls which probably made things worse if She didn't have enough adrenaline already rushing through her tiny body, the other clones could handle it though due to their training and they were a lot bigger compared to her, hence the numbed effect on them.

"Yeah yeah." Wrecker rushed, "Can she have the Mantell Mix or not?" 

"In Short- Yes." Tech replied, shutting off his computer and turning back in his seat to set the Marauders Coordinates. A large cheer shattered the Previously Soothing Silence followed by a Soft wince from Hunter, his headache presumably worse. 

 "When are we landing!" She rushed Over to the control panels, desperate to do Something to get them there quicker. 

"Woah there kid," Echo gently lifted her up, Moving her away from the control panel and gently placing her next to Hunter, "We'll be there soon. Why don't you rest up for now?" Once Echo's gentle grip left her, She moved into Hunter's arms in what appeared to be a protest.

"But I'm not tired!" All of the nightmare training they had to endure never prepared them to care for a child, so whenever she protested It was always a shock. Soldiers were made to follow orders but what they kept forgetting was that she isn't a soldier, she's just a child. 

"You will be once the adrenaline leaves your system." Tech warned, "I Suggest you leave to rest now ready for another day of adventuring." She signed and nodded, her excitement already beginning to leave being replaced with a rapid heart rate and a lot of sudden anxiety which caused her to shuffle further into Hunter's arms.

"Yeah, okay." Omega agreed, gently holding onto Hunter's arm as he gave her a small smile, it was late anyway. They'd arrive by morning which meant that they could go Straight to Cids to retrieve their Credits and quite possibly their next mission. Hunter soon stood, softly holding her smaller hand and guiding her to her room aboard their ship. Pulling back the grey curtains, a small room was awakened with stars being shown among the large window. It was a tight fit, but it was worth losing the space so Omega could have her own room. She slowly climbed up the ladder, her eyes always fixating on the orange glow of the fairy lights hanging around the room. She always looked at the soothing tone before searching beneath her blankets to find her clone doll and Lula. Once both toys were securely in her arms, she smiled softly at Hunter, shuffling herself into the blankets and the bigger sleeping bag that lay in the centre of the room so when she laid down against the pillow, she could roam her eyes among the stars. 

"Are you comfortable?" His voice whispered, chuckling gently at her small body bombarded with blankets. 

"Yeah!" She smiled in return, a sleepy haze replacing her previously energetic gaze. Hunter noticed her heart race was starting to drop quite quickly and her breathing had begun to slow itself down, the adrenaline rush Tech had previously mentioned was definitely starting to wear off. "But can you stay for a little while?"

"How come?" He questioned, sitting on the edge of her room with his familiar grin. "You're supposed to be sleeping." She sighed a little, clinging to her clone doll and staring at him with those curious eyes he could just never say no to. 

"But I want to hear more stories about you and the others!" A pout formed on her lips, a pang of guilt filling Hunter for even wanting to leave. "But if you don't want to tell me then that's okay! I'll ask Tech." An instant gasp left his lips as he remembered the last eight times he had woken during the night to find Tech sitting with Omega and rambling about the variety of planets there are, missions, the past and pretty much anything she could think of. She's a curious girl and that always interrupted her sleep Cycle - her racing mind never stopped and Tech was the only one who could keep up and enjoyed doing so. 

"Fine, okay." He chuckled, secretly loving to tell her stories about her brothers. "Did I ever tell you about our missions during the clone Wars?" She shook her head, gazing at him with wide eyes. "We were assigned to help assist Anakin Skywalker and Rex to find Echo."

 "Anakin Skywalker?" She asked, tilting her head at this newly learnt name. 

"He was a Jedi and a great commander, but obviously we were better and cooler." He paused to clear his throat, "Anyway…" Hunter continued to jumble on about how they fought and how each enhanced skills helped them on that mission that surprisingly went amazingly well. 

"Hunter?" A sleepy voice asked toward the end of his story, a little surprised that she interrupted a story - this must be important. "What's my enhanced skill?" She questioned, squeezing Lula close to her chest. In all honesty, he had absolutely no idea What her skill was, only that she had pure first generation DNA from Jango Fett which was pretty fascinating, but a skill like theirs? He was stumped.

"Well you're getting great with your bow now Omega!" He grinned, remembering how much the accuracy of the shots she took had improved rather significantly. Hunter was definately proud, just like the rest of the Bad Batch were.

"No." She whined, sitting up a little. "What's my enhanced skill like everyone else has?" Omega paused for a moment, a worried yet sleepy gaze coating her eyes. "Don't I have one?"

"I'm not sure, kid." His eyes lit up as he smiled, "Why don't we find out soon?" She nodded with a big grin plastered along her face. "Now get some sleep ready for that, Okay?" In return he got a smaller smile and a nod as she snuggled herself back dawn with her two toys, almost instantly falling asleep before a gentle sentence left the bundle of soft blankets.

"Goodnight Hunter." A soft voice whispered before finally falling into a deeper sleep, unknowing to Hunter's next words.

"Goodnight, Ad'ika." Hunter softly drew the curtain to the room filled with a soft orange glow, blocking it out before walking toward the others and sitting back into his chair with a sigh. Staring forward, he allowed the passing planets to fill his mind as to what memories he had made at the ones he and the rest of the batch had  visited. Many of course not among the greatest circumstances but memories nonetheless. Wrecker soon stood and Stretched with an abrupt yawn. 

"I'm getting Pretty tired, who's on first watch anyway?" The brothers gazed around at each other, eyes eventually falling toward Tech for an answer as he had always been the one to memorise their sleep cycles and plan out a well organised chedule on who would take watch and when.

"According to my calculations, Echo will be the first to keep watch followed by me, Wrecker, Crosshair followed by Hunter. Is that satisfactory to you all still?" A mumble of sleepy nods were shared in response as Wrecker smiled and moved toward their shared bunks. 

"I'll be off then!" He spoke, unable to suppress his yawn as he wandered away to prepare for bed.

"Are you all heading off now then? I think it's best to sleep now for the day we'll probably have tomorrow." Echo spoke, replacing himself with Tech in the pilot's seat, ensuring he was comfortable. The others had agreed and shared their various goodnights and moved away to their bunks, settling down and Just like Omega had, they all drifted off to sleep- replenishing their energy for the morning. 

Hours had passed to the stage in the sleep cycle where Crosshair was keeping watch, his feet thrown by the controls which he knew Tech wasn't awake to see so it didn't really matter. He was pretty relaxed chewing against his toothpick, adjusting to himself functioning awake. Crosshair had always struggled to keep the physical effects of steep at bay once he had awoken but don't think for a second that it dampened his skill. What had startled him though were the soft footsteps behind him followed by a very gentle voice that followed.

"Crosshair?" Omega whispered, "Are you awake?" Removing his feet from the control panel, much to sleeping Tech's glee, he turned in the chair to see a rather tense looking Omega Clinging to both her doll and Lula. Great,he'd rather deal with blaster fire then with a kid's problems. Maybe that was a lie, but regardless he wasnt really experienced with kids and he didn't want to mess her up like he felt he was. 

"Yeah, kid." He spoke, voice thinned out and a little tierd. "What do you want?" 

"I don't think I feel great." Her voice mumbled, "My heart feels fast and my mind won't let me sleep." He sighed a little knowing he'd have to take care of the worried child before him, he seemed cold-hearted to everyone around him but he knew his brothers know that that isn't the case. He supposed this was his chance to let his little sister know that too.

"Anything on your mind?" He asked, trying to rid his voice of the sour tune that he had grown accustomed to using. She seemed rather lonely shuffling on her feet, gripping her toys closer to her chest. 

"I think I'm nervous about tomorrow…" Crosshair gave a soft gesture to let her know that it was okay to carry on, he was there. "Hunter promised me that he'd help me try to find my enhanced Skill! I really want one so I can be more like you guys. That way I can be more helpful too!" Omega drew a sharp breath inward, "But what if I don't  have one? What if i'm even less helpful because of it. What if I'm not like my big brothers?" Her smaller Kamonian thick accent began to shake as a bundle more 'what ifs' left her mouth.

"Hey," Crosshair interrupted, a shot of genuine physical pain shooting through his heart at the tears which began to loom over her usually bright and hopeful eyes. "No more What if's. You're always going to be apart of this team with or without an enhanced skill. We may not find it Straight away if you do have one, but even if you don't have one it's nothing to get worked up about." His attempt to soothe her didn't work the way he had wanted it to, but she did seem calmer than before.  "You'll do fine, kid." Something amongst his heart encouraged him to open his arms despite everything in his mind telling him to just make her go back to bed. Before he could gain control of his half-awake mind, his arms had opened and those words left his mouth. "Go back to bed, Ad'ika." Omega had thrown herself into his arms, hugging him tightly with the doll and Lula present. He thought that he should feel embarrased or angry - but if anything he just felt a wave of pride wash over him. She wanted to be like them? Even after everything that had happened? For Sure She had a very compassionate and empathetic heart, but he didn't think that it was as Strong as this.

"I want to stay with you." Her muffled voice mumbled as she gently climbed to sit on his lap clearly in a sleepy and stressed out daze. Crosshair didn't respond to her heart-filling request as he watched Hunter gently approach by them both. Both brothers Shared a understanding nod, eventhough Crosshairs was a little hesitant. He didn't mind holding his little sister for longer, but she needed her sleep. She was overtierd and anxious enough. Hunter lifted Omega Softly from Crosshairs arms as the sniper dusted himself off returning to taking watch until she was back in bed. Luckily, Omega had already fallen asleep against Crosshair, so Hunter putting her back to bed was no problem at all. Once he returned, he stood behind his brother.

"Thanks, you can head back to bed now." Hunter hummed, taking the freed Seat as Crosshair left with a soft mumble and scrowl as per usual. Once he was out of sight, he leant back with a gentle sigh knowing how upset she'd be without an enhanced Skill of her own. Though at this point, he was pretty certain it was stratedgy. Things would become clearer by morning though, he knew Tech may be able to find out before she woke. "All in due time." he mumbled softly, waiting for the planet they were waiting to land on to appear, desperate to get their credits. This wouldn't take too long, they'd find out soon doing anything to make his Ad'ika happy.

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 24

February 29th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was laying in her bed looking at her phone.  

A special Blueprint had been uploaded to the Leafs’ official YouTube page and their official website titled “Family Birthdays”.  Filmed perfectly.  Cut perfectly.  Produced perfectly.  It was only two minutes long and featured all the guys.  But the main feature was her.  

The video began as Sheldon’s speech did, except the camera wasn’t on him – it was on Brendan and Aberdeen watching him intently.  When he called out Jason’s name and Jason walked in with the cake, Aberdeen watched her own face drop and change and contort.  The camera cut to some of the guys singing – Willy and Tyson and Auston, then Zach, then Travis – and then back to her once they began cheering.  Brendan started his speech.  The camera cut to some more players.  Then it showed her speech.  The last thirty seconds of the video featured snippets of afterwards – the music playing and the guys dancing, most of them with cake in their hands; Auston shoving a giant piece of it into his mouth; Tyson grabbing Aberdeen and dancing with her to the more upbeat song like they were in the 1950s and at a party.  The closing clip was one of Aberdeen smiling from ear to ear, then one of Brendan smiling from ear to ear too as he stared directly at her.  The Blueprint logo came up on the screen.  It was over.

Aberdeen had never appeared prominently in a video from the Leafs before.  She was in the background of some of the Blueprints, usually always with Brendan and once with Kyle and Peter, but she was mostly anonymous.  Now, with this video, she was known: she was named, shown, shown dancing, and it was clearly evident she’d been with the organization for a while and that the team loved her.  To anybody watching, she seemed ingrained within the institution that was the Toronto Maple Leafs.  The fans seemed to love it – the team had won the game, after all, and had a successful Florida road trip because they also won against Florida on Thursday 5-3.  The fans thought it was cute.  She thought it was cute, too, but wondered now if people, especially people throughout the NHL, would actually recognize her instead of just walking by and ignoring her unless she stood beside Brendan.

Regardless, she went about her morning routine – washing her face, brushing her teeth, doing her hair, putting her moisturizer on.  She fed Minerva and applied her makeup.  It was a Hockey Night in Canada tonight against the Vancouver Canucks, but Brendan was letting her leave after the first period for her birthday party.  A bunch of friends were coming over for pre-drink before they left for Toybox, the nightclub where she’d be having the party (everyone she knew and loved would be there except for Siena, who couldn’t come because of school).  There would be at least twenty of them.  They’d all pitched in to get a table and bottle service.  It would all be very fun, and considering Aberdeen’s clubbing days would probably come to an end soon (serious job, serious boyfriend, serious ambition to be a writer), she wanted it to be very fun. 

Lou was taking Brendan to a dentist appointment that morning, so Aberdeen was planning to just walk to work herself.  She could get in a little later than usual – around 9:45 or 10 – since Brendan wasn’t going to be in either.  So she took her time.  She made herself breakfast.  She turned on the news.  She cuddled with Minerva.  She admired the birthday gift that arrived from Willy last night when she got home from work – he had somehow managed to track down and buy a first edition copy (literally a la 1895) of The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde, her favourite play.  He did good.  He did damn good.  Between the ring at Christmas and this, Aberdeen couldn’t believe he did that good.  

She took out her phone.

Hope you have a good practice this morning ❤️

thank u minskatt

Are you still in bed lol

love u and yes lol

love you too

don’t judge me

After a while, with time going faster than she liked, Aberdeen put on her coat, hat, scarf, and boots and made her way downstairs.  When she opened the doors of her building, she noticed a guy in a grey Canada Goose jacket and a tan messenger bag smoking almost right outside the door.  She’d never seen him before.  It was entirely plausible that he lived in the building, but he wouldn’t have come down to have a smoke.  She figured he was probably waiting for someone, and went on her merry way.

As she walked down the street, she texted on her phone and made sure to avoid any ice on the sidewalk.  The cold air gave way for a quiet morning – there weren’t a lot of people out walking.  It was also because it was later than usual morning “rush hour”.  From behind her, she heard someone cough extremely loudly – one of those loud smoker’s coughs that could be heard from a mile away.  She looked behind her.

It was the guy from outside her building.  

She felt a shiver run up her spine, and it wasn’t from the cold.  Okay.  Maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt.  Maybe he had finished his cigarette and was walking the same way she was to his work.  Maybe they had the same route.

Maybe she should take a detour, just in case.  

She turned a corner.  It was technically the wrong way – well, not a wrong way, but it was less direct and a route that made her commute maybe five minutes longer than usual.  She waited about a minute before looking back again.  He turned the corner too.  She felt the shiver run up her spine again.

She turned another wrong corner onto Wellington Street.  Waited a few moments.  Looked back.  

There he was.  

She felt her heart beat increase rapidly.  She was being followed.  She was being followed.  She was freaking out.  She had no idea who this guy was, what he wanted from her, nothing.  She had no clue.  She increased her pace and looked for a storefront amidst all the bank buildings, and she thanked the Lord when she saw a Starbucks.  She climbed the steps and went inside.  It was pretty busy, but not busy enough that she’d be lost within the crowd.  She waited to see whether the man would just walk by or stop.

He stopped in front and lit another cigarette.  

She couldn’t believe this was happening to her.  She tried to steady her breathing as much as possible as she took out her phone and called the one number she thought to call.  

“Minskaaaaaatt, what are you—”

“—Willy?” Aberdeen asked frantically into the phone.

William noticed her tone immediately.  “What’s wrong?”

“Willy I think someone’s following me.”

“Following you?” his tone was dead serious.  

She arched her neck to look out the window and saw the guy was still there, pretending to type away on his phone.  “I—I left my apartment this morning, and I noticed this guy standing outside with a messenger bag smoking and—and I didn’t think much of it, but then I started walking down the street, and he started following me.  And so I started to walk down a different route to work just in case but he—he kept following, and now I’m in the Starbucks at York and Wellington and he’s standing outside pretending to be on the phone but he’s waiting for me and—”

“Stay right there.  I’m going to come get you.”

As if her heart wasn’t already beating rapidly out of fear, now the pace increased tenfold.  She’d called him because he was her boyfriend, because he was the first person she thought to call, but now she realized how much of a grave mistake that was.  “No – no – Willy, you can’t.  Brendan will know and—”

“Stay there and don’t leave.”

“Willy—no, Willy—” she tried, but he had already hung up the phone.  She couldn’t think straight.  She was freaking out, and not just because she was getting stalked by someone.  She should have called Brendan first.  Or Jason, or—

Well, she could text them.  She pulled up Brendan’s number first.  She hoped he’d see it before Willy could do anything.  I’m at York and Wellington Starbucks.  I am being followed by someone.  Can you please come and pick me up?  She pulled up Jason’s number, too.  I’m at York and Wellington Starbucks.  I am being followed from my apartment.  Please get someone to help me.

As she waited, nobody texted her back.  She started to become nervous.  She even sent a few more texts to Willy about getting someone to help him and calling Brendan to help deal with it but he wasn’t responding, and it just made her more nervous.  Jason – never one to leave her on read, even for the simplest of messages – hadn’t responded.  She wondered if he was already driving to practice.  Or with Jen.  Or with his girls.  Or at their school.  Or—

The man still wasn’t leaving.  

Aberdeen gulped.  She didn’t know what to do.  She couldn’t stay in this Starbucks forever even though it seemed this guy would wait that long.  If she left and continued her walk to work, should she acknowledge him?  Should she ignore him?  Should she call him out for following her?  And besides, how in the everlasting fuck did he know where she lived?!  She felt a pit forming in her stomach.  

But she went outside anyway.  Before she did, she started a video on her phone.  As she pushed open the doors from the Starbucks, she watched out of the corner of her eye as he saw her and locked his phone.  As she walked by him, he kept it in his hand.  She began to walk away, down the steps and onto the sidewalk, and she pretended to adjust her hair in her hat.  She saw he’d taken a step forward.  Her heart was racing, but she stopped walking.  She turned towards him boldly, cradling her phone against her chest so it wouldn’t seem like she was recording him.  

When he noticed that he’d been caught, a smile adorned his face.  It was probably nice in everyday life, but considering the circumstances, it was the creepiest thing Aberdeen had ever seen.  “Hey,” he greeted her with a friendly, pleasant voice.  “You know, I saw you in that Blueprint video where the Leafs bought you that birthday cake – you’re Aberdeen Bloom, aren’t you?  Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant?” the man asked.

Aberdeen found it extremely weird that this man knew her last name.  “How do you know where I live?” she demanded.

“I just overheard the guys talking about it one night and made an educated guess,” he shrugged his shoulders, like it was the most natural thing in the world.  It made Aberdeen’s blood run cold.  “You must recognize me from the media scrums.  I was wondering if you’d like to answer a few questions for me.”

She didn’t recognize him from the media scrums, although she was sure he was there.  Having probably exhausted his good rapport with the players due to his actions (if they were anything like this), the next best thing for him was to terrorize her.  “No.  I don’t speak to the media.  You need to go through—”

Suddenly, a car pulled up to the curb, the tires shrieking against the pavement.  Another car followed just as quickly, shrieking against the pavement as it also grinded to a halt.  From the second car, William barely waited for it to stop before he got out of the passenger’s seat.  Jason followed him from the driver’s seat.  “Get in the car,” William said firmly, not even looking at her.

She noticed Brendan get out of the backseat of the first car, and came to the realization that it was the town car – Lou was driving, waving at her to get in.  “Aberdeen, get in the car,” he echoed William’s sentiments.  “I’ll deal with this.”

She ran towards the town car, opening the door quickly and stuffing herself into the backseat.  She stopped the video on her phone as she watched through the window as Brendan approached the man, who had his hands up and was shaking his head like he wasn’t doing anything wrong.  She felt the sting of tears in her eyes.  “Are you okay, Miss Bloom?” Lou asked from the front seat.  

“I’m okay,” she said.  “Just a bit spooked.”

“Mr. Shanahan freaked out when he got your text.  Almost had a heart attack, I think.”

Aberdeen nodded absent-mindedly, still watching through the window as Brendan looked like he was berating the man.  William looked exactly like he did the night she got hit by the glass – so angry but unable to formulate words – and she couldn’t tell if the redness on his cheeks was due to the cold or his anger.  Jason looked equally as angry, his head moving between Brendan and the man like he was watching Djokovic verses Federer.  When Brendan, William, and Jason dispersed back towards the cars, the man who had followed her was calling out towards Brendan in objection.  Brendan ignored him, and so did William and Jason.  He kept screaming, and Brendan kept ignoring.  

Aberdeen watched through the side mirrors as William and Jason got back in their car.  Brendan opened the backseat door and she turned her head to look at him as slipped in.  Lou began driving the second the door was closed.  “When did you notice him following you?” Brendan asked immediately.

“He was outside my building,” she revealed.

“Outside your building?!” he demanded.  He pulled out his phone.  “I—I’m calling Steve.  No media availability for practice.  None.”

“Brendan—”

“This motherfucker,” he seethed, ignoring Aberdeen’s voice.  “This motherfucker is never getting into our locker room again.”

“Brendan, I don’t care about the locker room,” Aberdeen chastised him.  “He knows where I live!”

“I already called the police.  They’re meeting us at practice,” he revealed.  “I already told them we’re drafting up a peace bond.  And if that fucker even thinks about contesting it, I’ll be out for blood.”

Aberdeen was trying to make sense of what he was saying, but it wasn’t registering in her head.  She’d heard Siena talk about peace bonds before in relation to something she was learning in law school, but Aberdeen couldn’t connect the dots right now.  “What—what’s a peace bond?” she asked.

“It’s essentially a restraining order,” he explained.  “Some of the players actually have them for some people or fans but we’re not going to get into that right now.  All you need to know is that he won’t be able to be anywhere near you, your apartment, work, nothing.  I’ll push for an entire kilometre away from you.  I don’t care if the fucker has to move.  He won’t get anywhere near you ever again.”

Aberdeen calmed down considerably as Brendan spoke, though she was still on edge.  “We…we can do that?”

“Yes.  It’s the—fuck!—it’s the same old story with some of these fucking clowns.  Can’t get what they want in the locker room so they go after office stuff and see which one breaks first.  It’s never enough – whatever we give them is never enough.  All for some inside scoop.”

Aberdeen saw how angry Brendan was about this.  It was like the Ethan situation all over again.  It was different in that, with Ethan, Brendan was calm but she could see the rage inside of him.  Now, she saw the rage both inside and outside.  “I just want to make sure I’ll never have to see him again,” Aberdeen said.

“You won’t,” Brendan seethed.  “I’ll make sure of it.”

***

Aberdeen didn’t exactly like talking to cops – she didn’t think anyone did – but there were two waiting at practice when she and Brendan got there.  They waited for William and Jason to get there, and once they arrived, they all went into a private room to give statements.  Aberdeen showed the cops the video she took.  It played at least seven different times, and each time, she watched William across the table getting redder and redder.  Except this time, he was more vocal.  “Is it possible we can do more than just a peace order?  I mean can’t we press charges?”  “This guy is an obvious threat to the team’s safety if he’s approaching office staff to try to get exclusives on us.”  It was all very…clinical.  She didn’t know the word to describe it.  But Brendan was adamant on the conditions of the peace order, and was adamant that they go even a step further than what some of the guys had because she was a young female.  What surprised her the most was when Brendan called up the guy – literally right from his phone – and the cops read out the peace bond.  This was still in front of William and Jason.  The guy fought back a little bit but Brendan was having none of it and threatened him with court.  The guy had no chance but to accept the conditions of the peace order.  He agreed to sign it.  He agreed to every condition.  The cops would take care of him signing it and filing the peace order with the RCMP.  

It was barely noon.  

When the police left, Aberdeen thanked them politely and watched as Willy and Jason did too.  She noticed William’s eyes on her as she heard Brendan thank them and offer to walk them out.  Then she saw Jason was looking at her too.  “Can I talk to you?  Alone?” he asked.

“Yeah.  Of course.”

She followed him to an empty hallway – one she had walked down hundreds of times while working the practices.  Jason made sure nobody else was around before he started speaking.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded her head.  “Just a bit spooked, as you can imagine.”

“Listen, I know you’ve got your parents’ place but my door is always open too if you or Kasha don’t feel safe in the apartment for the next little bit,” he offered.  God, she still needed to tell Kasha.  She still needed to call her fucking parents.  They were going to have a fit.  “You know Jen wouldn’t mind.”

“You’d add another girl to your house?” she tried to joke.

“Don’t joke about this,” he said, his voice so serious Aberdeen almost felt back for cracking the joke.  “Do you want to stay at my place?  Do you feel safe?”

“No.  And yes,” she said.  “No I do not want to stay at your place, but thank you for the offer.  And yes, I feel safe.  I mean, I feel safe right now, knowing that if he breaks that peace bond, he can go to jail.  That’s what’s making me feel safe right now.”

“It should.  It’s serious business.”

“Do you understand how lucky I am that the cops took it seriously and got it done within hours?  Because I guarantee you if it was just me filing the complaint, they wouldn’t have taken it seriously,” she said.  “They only took it seriously because of Brendan and him going apoplectic, and you know it.”

“I do know it,” Jason nodded his head.  “I’ve known it every day since my old teammate’s girlfriend had to get the exact same thing down in Dallas against a group of crazy girls who wanted to sleep with her boyfriend and threatened to show up at their house and suffocate her in her sleep.”

Okay, so apparently this was pretty commonplace.  Well, at least in hers and Jason’s lives.  While it wasn’t a crazy fangirl, he at least still understood where she was coming from.  “I guess I’m lucky he only wanted an inside scoop, I guess.”

Jason shook his head.  “I almost had a fucking heart attack when I saw that message.  You don’t even understand.  I was walking and I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around and started running to my car.  That’s when I saw Will.”

Ah, yes.  William.  She wondered where he was right now.  She’d have to find him after this conversation.  “Yeah.  I was shaking so much that for some reason, his name was the first to pop up.”

Jason stayed silent, nodding his head.  She could tell he was biting his tongue, wanting to say something, deciding whether or not it was worth it.  “Listen…I know…I know I shouldn’t even be asking this, but there’s nothing going on between you and Willy, is there?”

Aberdeen held her breath.  She had to lie to Siena.  She had to lie to Kasha.  Now, she had to lie to Jason.  It would have been inevitable, but she wished she didn’t have to, mostly because she respected him so much and knew how much he cared about her.  “No.  I just…we’re close – kinda – and listen – his crush isn’t exactly a secret, but it’s not like I’m doing anything while I’m working here,” she said, stumbling over her words a bit.  “I would never jeopardize my job or my career like that.”

“Right.  I know.  Sorry,” Jason kept nodding, now a bit bashful that he even brought it up.  “I just…you let him know, you know—”

“Because we’re close,” she reiterated.  “We’re practically the same age.  And because he’s the only guy around my age on the team who has even just some of his shit together because of the way he grew up.  I mean, I didn’t call Auston or Kappy for a reason.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, of course,” he actually cracked a smile.  “I just—sorry, Aberdeen.  I didn’t mean to be—”

“It’s okay, Jason,” she wished he’d just dropped it, because the more he dragged it on, the more she had to lie to him, and the more it killed her.  

There was a moment of silence before Jason spoke again.  “Kappy would have probably taken you to an oyster bar,” he quipped.

Aberdeen snorted.  She began laughing one of those silent laughs as she shook her head.  “You’re probably right.”

***

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:  Earlier today, a member of the Toronto Maple Leafs organization was followed from their residence to 50 Bay Street.  It is of the utmost importance that members of the Toronto Maple Leafs organization are allowed privacy in their personal lives and are not stalked, followed, and harassed on their way to employment.  Due to the unacceptable actions, we have terminated the media credentials and locker room access of the individual involved in the incident, and they will never be allowed back into our locker room.  We encourage those in the media to review the acceptable guidelines policy given at the beginning of each season.  Legal action has already been taken against the individual.  We will not be answering any further questions.

***

“She what?!” Zach Hyman was in disbelief at what William announced to the room.

“Who was it?” John asked.

“Are they pressing charges?” Tyson demanded.

“There’s already a peace bond – it’s like a restraining order,” Jason explained.  “He can’t get within, like, a kilometre of her or the arena without her pressing charges and him going to jail.”

The locker room was in disbelief at the news that Aberdeen had been stalked on her way to work that morning.  They knew the media could be crazy, they just didn’t know they could be that crazy.  To target a young female member of the office was unheard of.  Usually they were the ones being stalked, not the office staff.  “Is she okay?” Zach asked.  

“She’s doing fine.  She’s Aberdeen.  For what it’s worth I think she’s keeping it all in, just like last time, but that’s neither here nor there,” Jason said, alluding to the Ethan situation.  “It all happened so fast this morning.  That’s why nobody had to do media after practice today.  Brendan suspended it.”

William watched as Auston shook his head.  “That girl’s being put through the fucking ringer, dude.  First the Ethan thing, then that scar, now this?”

“I’m surprised she stays with us,” Tyson commented.

“I don’t.  She loves us,” Mitch spoke up.  “Just like we love her.  This is just…a series of unfortunate events.  Like that book series.”

“You read books?” Auston quipped.

Mitch punched him in the arm.  “So I get why she’d text Jason,” Mitch continued, looking at William.  “But why you?”

William shrugged.  “How would I know?  She was probably shaking and her hand slipped while typing.  Would you be calm in that situation?”

Jason had heard that before.

***

“You’re not scared?” William asked over the phone, sitting alone inside of his car, still in the parking lot after practice.  Everybody had left long ago, but not him.

“A little bit, but I’m not letting it take over my life.  I can’t let it take over my life,” Aberdeen replied, her voice calm.  She was probably talking to him from the employee washroom back on Bay Street.  “If I let the fear take over, I wouldn’t do anything.  I wouldn’t be able to do my job.”

“But this isn’t that type of fear.  This is someone stalked you on your way to work fear.  This is someone hit you with a glass because they hated your boyfriend fear.  This is—”

“—that was a freak accident—”

“—This is a different type of fear, minskatt.  I can’t stand seeing this happen to you.”

“Willy, I couldn’t stand to hear those guys in the bar chirping you, either,” she said.  “You have to trust me when I tell you that it freaked me out and scared me but there’s a peace order now and it’s been dealt with.  I’m not going to let it take over my life.  Remember what you told me?  I’m not what happened to me.”

William took a deep breath to stop himself from getting emotional.  His girlfriend was handling this much better than he was – that was very clear.  “I just love you so much,” he whispered.  Aberdeen could swear she heard his voice crack slightly.  “I don’t ever want to see anything bad happen to you.  It kills me because I can’t help you right then and there.  I can’t even touch you.  It’s hard.  We have to do this instead.  This is the hardest part of keeping this all a secret.”

“I know.  I know,” she agreed with him.  “But you have to trust me.  You trust me, right?”

“With my whole heart,” he responded.

“Then you need to trust that I’m okay.”

***

@reporterchris:  The member of the Leafs organization who was followed from their residence was a woman.  Shanahan, Dubas, & co. are taking this extremely seriously.  Rumours are the team is quite upset too.

@reporterchris: Organization is not naming names for obvious reasons.  But they do tell us the member is doing fine, was not hurt or injured, and continues to perform her full duties with the team.  Org is treating this as a one-off scary episode, but did not want to take chances.  

@reporterchris:  Team is a bit standoffish tonight, with good reason.  Though the culprit is not in the room, players coming out for media availability aren’t as forthcoming as usual.  

***

“Oh my god, there is literally no room to breathe in this thing,” Aberdeen said as she sucked in her stomach as Kasha zipped up her jumpsuit.  She looked at herself in the mirror and had to admit the jumpsuit looked phenomenal on her.  It was skin tight, hugging her body in all the right places and actually made it look like she had some semblance of cleavage, and showed off just the right amount of skin for a February night.  Her long hair cascaded down her back, her makeup was immaculate besides the patch near her scar where she couldn’t put any on, and her heels gave her that extra bit of confidence to pull off the look.  

“You’ll be able to get some alcohol in,” Kasha joked as she finished zipping.  “Or else bottle service was a bust.”

“Bottle service is never a bust,” Aberdeen said.  “I’m just gonna make sure the pre-drink is worth it too.”

Aberdeen had decided against telling Kasha tonight about the stalking earlier in the day.  It just wasn’t the right time, because she knew Kasha was incredibly excited for tonight, and because Aberdeen didn’t want to think about it either.  Much like the Ethan situation, she didn’t want it to creep up in her mind when she was supposed to be having a good time.  She’d tell Kasha tomorrow, when she was hungover.  She’d also tell her parents tomorrow, because if she told them tonight, they’d probably show up to the pre-drink and lock her in her room.

As their friends began arriving, the drinks started flowing.  People brought their own, and of course Kasha and Aberdeen had some booze in stock, and Kasha made sure to take pictures – “thirst trips, Aberdeen, thirst traps!!!!!” – before things started to get too hectic and too alcohol-fuelled.  Evan came, and Masani came, and Tom, and Christian and Gavin and Zach, and Delilah and Ariana and Sloane, and Jude surprised her by coming in from McMaster, and she was surrounded by so many friends and posing for so many group photos that her mind really didn’t think of what happened earlier, and she was happy, really happy, and wanted to have the best time.

They practically fell out of their Ubers and into the lineup outside Toybox, but Masani spoke with the bouncer and he let them all in and they made their way to their reserved table.  Kasha pulled her out onto the dance floor and Aberdeen began moving her body to the beat of the music.  She’d look over her shoulder every now and then, making sure nobody was him, but after the first few times, she came to the realization he wouldn’t be there, and she really let loose.  Kasha was telling everyone who would listen that it was Aberdeen’s birthday so they’d buy them drinks.  Aberdeen accepted them.  Most people asked about her scar.  She told them.  A few guys flirted with her.  She shot them down.  Many more stared at her in her jumpsuit, their eyes filling with lust.  

Then one pair caught her eye, because she could recognize those baby blues anywhere.  

He was across the dance floor, staying a safe distance away from her and her party, but he was still keeping a watchful eye.  Not possessive, not domineering, not jealous or envious or untrusting – just watching.  She wanted him around her; she wanted him behind her so she could grind on him; she wanted him in front of her so she could dance with him; she wanted him close to her so she could wrap her arms around him; but she couldn’t.  He was there and she was here, and that’s where they had to stay.  

Don’t even hav to drunkt text you tonigt when you’re alreadfy here she texted him, downing the last of her vodka soda.  She looked towards him to see him taking out his phone.  It was only then that she noticed Rasmus approaching him with a drink, Kappy too already sipping on his own.

just wanted to make sure everything was ok after what happened today

omg is that rasmus isn’t hew like 12 how didf the bouncer let him inm who did youi pay

u look so sexy

do you know this placve can we sneak away

don’t think that’s the best idea

why not

kasha kappy rasmus

Oh right.  Kasha.  They needed to keep this a secret from Kasha.  And Kappy.  And Rasmus.  Aberdeen’s drunk brain wasn’t thinking very straight right now.  Would Kasha notice if she snuck away for…however long?  Would Masani?  Would any one of her friends?  Were they already too drunk to notice, too drunk to care?

“Who are you texting?” Kasha asked.

“Nobody,” Aberdeen answered absent-mindedly.  She typed out her last text message before locking her phone.

i want your fingers inside of me

“Let’s go back to the booth,” Kasha whined as she grabbed Aberdeen’s hand.  “My feet huuuuurt.”

They made their way through the crowd and up the steps.  Aberdeen looked back to see William looking down at his phone, biting him bottom lip.  He locked his screen and put it in his pocket with an irritated look on his face.  She got him.

The rest of the night was fun.  William stayed away, which meant none of her friends interacted with him or Kappy or Rasmus – even Masani didn’t see him, which was good because if she did she most certainly would have bullied him into giving her Alex’s number since she’d been calling him “the best lay of my life thus far” since June.  She danced some more with her girlfriends, drank some more, got some more drinks bought for her, got asked about her scar some more, and took more pictures in the booth and on the dance floor.  The announcement for last call was the only reason they left, stumbling out of the club at 2am like good twenty-somethings having the time of their lives.  Aberdeen drunkenly hugged every one of her friends before they left in their taxis or Ubers, even placing a huge kiss on Jude’s cheek for coming in all the way from McMaster to join them.  She, Kasha, and Evan got into a taxi together, with Kasha even taking some last-minute pictures of her posing in the back of the taxi, even though Aberdeen thought she probably looked like a mess.  

When she got her phone back, she opened the front-facing camera and used her arms to push up her boobs, snapping a quick picture of her cleavage and herself biting her lip before quickly sending it off to Willy.  Kasha was too busy on her own phone to notice, and Evan was trying to make friends with the driver.  Almost immediately, she saw the three dots pop up.

the next time i see u alone, ur gonna pay for this

😇

 do you wankt sokme more

are u comfortable with that?

She posed again, doing much of the same, except this time she made it a video.  She pressed send.

fuuuuuuck ur so fucking sexy

im sry i do not have boobies

😂

u have beautiful boobs 

perfect for my mouth

Aberdeen smiled.  She held her breath.

i love yourf mouthj on my boobs i love your mouth onb my pussyt

i love my mouth on ur pussy too

where is rasmus is he in bed

FOCUS ABERDEEN

“ABERDEEEEEEEN!” Evan called out loudly, drunkenly.  It was only then that she realized that the taxi had stopped and that Evan and Kasha were already out of the taxi, waiting for her.  “Let’s goooo!”

Instead of just opened her door, she crawled across the backseat like a baby giraffe just finding its legs and got out that way.  She thanked the driver and told him it was her birthday before she closed the door.  Evan made sure they got into the elevator.

minskatt?

in elevator no shawarma this time when i gety backj into my room i willk send more pics

😍

do you like my butt

yes i do

i like my butt toop do you wankt pics of my butt

i want whatever u will give me

Evan also made sure they got into their apartment just fine.  Aberdeen immediately kicked off her heels and escaped to her room, closing the door.  The feel of her feet out of her strappy heels and on the laminate floor brought her so much joy.  She faced her full-length mirror and took one last picture, posing with her ass out before she sent the picture to William.

for you and only for you

fuck baby can’t believe how hot u look

let me take off my jumpsuit i have sexyt underwear onm

Aberdeen put her phone down and somehow, someway, got the zipper on her back down low enough that she could shimmy out of it.  The second the skin tight jumpsuit was off, she felt an even bigger sense of relief and comfort than she did when she took off her heels.  Every organ in her body felt like it was settling into their rightful place and not squeezed in by the jumpsuit.  It felt nice.  It felt so nice that she sat down on her bed.  And when she sat down on her bed, the comforter felt so soft against her skin.  Then she saw her pillows.  She fucking loved her pillows.  So she lay her head down on them.  Her eyes became heavy.  Her breath steadied.

that’s so hot baby do u wear them at work too Aberdeen? minskatt? hahahahahahaha goodnight minskatt

[skylarmoon71]

AU Blind Murdock Reader x Leonardo (TMNT 2014/2016) Chapter 4

"Please someone....help.."

You jolted and Leo's eyes darted forward. He dropped his arms, wondering what it was that broke your focus.

"Are you alright?"

During the beginning, you were quite reluctant to join, and he realized he just needed to be persistent. So after you healed, and tried to get out of working together, you finally gave in. Leo knew if you were going to trust them, he would have to give you a reason to, so there was no doubt about showing you the lair. You'd already been there, and he had the sense that you would be able to find them even without his guidance.

At first, it was difficult, going out together and fighting crime. You still tried to operate like you were solo, and he didn't want to risk a casualty, so he asked Splinter for some advice. He suggested team training exercises. It helped with his brothers, so why not you? That's what you were currently doing, until something distracted you.

"I'm fine."

Fine.

You kept saying that. It was starting to get on his nerves. He knew for a fact you weren't fine. But with your very prominent trust issues, getting that information out would be a challenge.

"I need to go." Leo narrowed his eyes. It was Saturday afternoon. You didn't have school, and he was positive when you agreed to come, you did so because your schedule was clear.

"Where are you going?"

Your fist tightened at your side. "I didn't realize this was an interrogation. I just need to go. Or do I need permission to leave sir." He internally winced at the venom in your voice. He'd stepped on a bomb, he knew that now. "Sorry, I don't mean to be nosy. I was just under the impression that we were going to practice. I'm just a little worried, I want us to work well when we're out there. I can't do that if we aren't familiar with each other. "

"We'll be fine." You spoke flatly. You were already turning before he could say much more. You only made a few steps before his hand grabbed your wrist. Effectively halting your movements.

"Let me help you." you bit down on your lip. Asking for help would take a while, Leo understood that. That just meant he had to pay attention. He supposed you were used to being ignored, so it was easy for people who didn't pay mind to miss the subtle expressions on your face. He was getting better at reading you. "Something is bothering you, it's been that way for a while." He could feel you tense in his hold.

"I'm right." So it wasn't just a hunch on his part. At the start of the session he could tell. You were a bit antsy, and some of your hits were delayed. He'd seen you fight, you were calculated, strong and agile. Today you weren't as quick. Your shoulders slumped, and he loosened his hold, watching as you turned to him slowly.

"There's a girl in my building. She's..in pain. I can't seem to help. Every night she cries out for help and I..I can't do a thing."

"Did you try talking to the police, maybe they can help." you frowned.

"I've called child welfare and they didn't do a thing."

"Child welfare..." The child was being abused.

"(Y/N), are they beating on her?" your jaw clenched, and you turned abruptly.

"Are you going to help me or not."

You didn't answer his question, that wasn't good. Something told him that it was better to just go along with you. If he didn't, he'd be stuck worrying about what could happen. He didn't want you acting rash and getting hurt.

"I'll help."

He wasn't sure what he was getting himself into, but at least this way he was in the loop.

~~~~~

As darkness overtook the sky, you and Leo stood on the roof of your building. You kept flexing your fingers. Leo realized that watching you filter through all the sounds around you was intriguing. You seemed to react like an antenna, picking up signals until you found the right one. Your head would turn at every quick noise you caught. Your outfit really was a clever choice, the black blended nicely for the activities you need to carry out, and your eyes were completely covered, so the chance of someone even catching a glimpse of your eyes was impossible.

"How do you deal with it, all the conflicting sounds. It can't be easy, hearing all that you do."

A pause.

"It wasn't always easy, at first it was chaotic. They weren't sure what to make of me, so they placed me in an orphanage. Some of the nuns thought I was possessed. " you muttered. Leo swallowed. This was dangerous ground. Sometimes you'd give him little pieces of your past.

"This world isn't that pretty anyway, people think this disability is a curse, but it's a gift. My gift. I see everything through my other senses. I try to fix it. But everyone else, they see it all. The death, destruction, yet they are the ones truly disabled. Because they choose to be blind. "

You knew what your purpose in the world was, and this was it.

"Please don't.."

"Be quiet."

Leo straightened, and you turned to him. "Did you hear that?"

He nods. "He isn't sure what it is he just heard. It was an obvious cry for help, but the other voice came from inside the room. So it had to be a family member.

"I don't understand, why would they leave that relative with her if he's hurting her."

"It's because he's her step dad." Now he was even more confused. "She's a kid, what could she be doing that warrants abuse. I know parents are strict with their kids but-"

"He raped her." Leo's eyes widened. He took a step back, disbelief in his eyes. You couldn't see him. But there was no doubt genuine surprise.

"Your father, Splinter, I figured he sheltered you guys from a lot, and you've probably only been dealing with the minor threats. Bank robberies, common assaults. There's a lot more out there. Far more than you guys realize. You have no idea how much restraint it's taken me not to smash that man's face into a wall. It's been going on for weeks. I called the police, left notes for the mother. Even tried to get the girl to talk to me. Nothing. "

You tried getting him alone at night, you'd been studying his routine the moment you knew what was up, but there was rarely an opportunity. The hours he worked clashed with when you attended school, and every other chance he was always surrounded by someone. A friend, coworker, or his family.

"But he's...he's her.." Leo felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't comprehend it.

You just let out a dry chuckle. Dark, emotionless.

"The world isn't that black and white Leonardo. In this line of work, if you can't stomach the sight, you might as well be one of the other blind sheep."

Leo was still trying to gather himself. He finally registered that something was about to go down when he heard the sirens not too far away. "Their on time for once."

"W-Wait what are you.."

"If I can't get him for one crime, I'll just have to make him pay for another." he couldn't even ask what the actual plan was. You jumped over the edge of the building and Leo panicked.

"(Y/N)!!!!!!"

Gripping the ledge, you catapult yourself through the window, crashing into the glass. It broke, startling the man in the bed. He jumped off the girl in shock, and you tucked and rolled, cushioning your fall.

"What the hell!" He barely had a chance to pull up his pants. You drove forward, punching him square in the jaw. He took it, grunting and backpedaling as he crashed into the door.

"H-Honey!! Honey are you okay!!" you could hear the mother frantically yelling on the other side of the door.

"Mommy!!" your head whipped to the side. "I'm not going to hurt you." you said softly. You could hear the rustling of the sheets, she was cowering into the bed. "He hurt you." the girl didn't say anything, and you could hear the labored breathing of the step dad. He was still slightly disoriented from the hit.

"H-He said if I told anyone they wouldn't believe me. I-I was bad. I deserved it." It broke your heart to hear those words come from her mouth. "He's a liar. There's nothing you could have done to deserve any of this. He's a monster, you hear me, there's nothing wrong with you."

"Bitch!!"

That was becoming a frequent title. You just smirked when he picked up a bat from the corner. He raised it, striking in your direction. You dodged, moving in as punched him in the gut. He tried to use the lack of distance to get a hold of you, but you elbowed him in the jaw. He yelled out in pain, dropping the bat. You gripped the back of his scalp, driving his face harshly into the wall. It wasn't enough. You drew back. Clenching your teeth as you smashed his face harder. The crack of his nose was satisfying. Blood gushed down his face, and you released your hold on his hair, letting him face plant. He curled into a ball, wailing.

"Pussy." you sneered.

You shifted from the door, moving back to the shattered window. You could hear the police coming up the staircase. It was then that the mother finally forced her way into the room. She kicked in the door, standing in the doorway partially paralyzed at the sight of her spouse bleeding on the floor. "Mommy!!" the girl raced off the bed, right into her mother's arms. She caught her easily, hugging her protectively to her chest as she watched you wearily. It's then that she seemed to really take in the scene. Her husband's pants were down, and her daughter wasn't wearing any.

"No..." you sighed.

"Protect your daughter, if I see him back here again, I won't be so generous. " You raised your leg, stepping on the edge.

"NYPD OPEN UP!!" She could barely say much, the minute she turned at the call, you were already gone. Police flooded the house, and the little girl just held unto her mother, crying softly in her arms.

~~~~~~

"How did you...what did they take him in for." You and Leo were on the roof. You watched the aftermath of all that went down. Leo felt useless. He'd couldn't do much at that point but stay there and hope you got out before the police got there. The number of officers aware of his existence was pretty small, drawing in a larger audience, especially after his family was almost exposed, it was dangerous. He couldn't take the chance. That wasn't the only reason. Somehow he could still barely process the prospect of what that poor girl went through. From her own family no less.

"I planted some weapons I recovered from a russian mob a few weeks back. My plan was to just dump them at the nearest dock, but I guess there was a reason I held unto them for so long. Didn't think I'd need it, but it came in handy. Those guns have been used in numerous crimes around the city. That doubled with the charges his wife is gonna file, he won't see the light of day anytime soon. "

Your only wish is that you'd been able to do something sooner. Nothing was going to make up for the innocence that was stolen from that girl. Hopefully, with the help of her mother she'd be okay. Leo was quiet.

"You've done this already. "

Until now, Leo felt like he was making a difference, but he wasn't so sure anymore. You dealt with this often, no wonder you were so insistent on being left alone. If he had to deal with people like that regularly, he probably wouldn't trust anyone either.

"Don't doubt yourself. You're a good guy Leo. "

You could deal with the dark, it was a part of you. But Leo, he was pure. He still had hope in humanity. In some weird way, you kind of hoped he'd always be that way. You had no problem dealing with scum. It just meant that someone else wouldn't have to worry about it. You didn't mind suffering, it's all you'd known. You could bear it.

[pinkhairedlily]

[Open Your Mouth] Chapter 4 - R

See previous chapters here: AO3 | Tumblr

Summary: Or maybe it was just the first time she was treated like she had an agency. The gestures for permission, the unspoken questions of consent, the way he wouldn’t touch her first or grab her or mar her skin even when they were having sex. Most men would have their true natures revealed once shown the great pussy. But there he was, always cradling her like she was porcelain china. Not that she minded. It was a breath of fresh air to be held like that, in gentle caresses and soft whispers that beg to betray his true feelings at any given second. It was madness not to be consumed by it, but it was tragedy that she only knew of this reality just now.

-xxxxxxx-

April 20, 2021, 11:16 PM

“Still in questioning for two weeks,” Sasuke grits through his phone. “And they didn’t allow him to post bail?”

“Akugawa’s attorneys tried to appeal this week but it’s a no go. Doesn’t help that he’s brought to a different district so it’s completely out of our jurisdiction,” Neji replies. “Have you heard from Jugo?”

“Just a text message saying they lied to him and told him the directive was from Asuma.” Sasuke lets his fingers run through his hair, too frustrated to think straight this evening. “All they have against Akugawa are purely circumstantial. This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but the media ruckus is hungry for the gay serial killer angle. Well, I gotta go Uchiha.”

“Have fun. It’s your wedding anniversary tonight, isn’t it?”

“Shut up. Aren’t you with a woman yourself?” The call ends.

Rid of distractions, he is now at liberty to gaze freely at the rosette reading a book beside him. She gives him a smile and ditches the book to trace lazy circles on his chest. The lunch break meetings have become too short for the both of them thus the need for dinners and coffee. He didn’t plan on making a move, not when there is still an active case, but she’s enthralling in a sense. It’s her presence that pulls him into her orbit – or maybe it’s the pink hair and the emerald eyes that make it difficult to look away.

When he almost hailed her a cab for their fifth dinner, she grabbed his arm and slowly pulled it down to her side, intertwining her fingers with his. It was the first time he held her hand.

With a flushed face under the dim city lights, she asked him, “I would like it if you take me home with you.”

And even after arriving in his flat, he hesitated to kiss her. Only when she brought his fingers to her lips did he move, suddenly gripped with a drive to gently coax her into pleasure. She undressed for him in the dark, already wet and pulsating for his touch, his kisses, and he let the jasmine perfume perforate his senses. He was careful not to leave marks of his trail – after all, it might just be the last as it could be the first – and regrets were felt stronger when there were remainders.

The first time was followed by a second, and she posed a question. “Why are you so gentle with me?”

He looked at her face and tucked a stray strand behind her ear, the color of his dreams. “I’m afraid you’ll break.”

She took his hand and slapped it on her perky breasts. “Try and break me then.”

Where he wavered, she asserted – her nails leaving scratches on his back, bruising his lips, marking his neck, and pulling his hair – but she did it so beautifully that he basked in pain as she yelled his name in ecstatic throes.

He pulls away from reminiscing when the lazy circles start to draw lower. He softly takes her dainty wrist and places an open-mouthed kiss where her pulse is.

“I take it your team is still prohibited from pursuing other leads?” Sakura gasps.

Sasuke shakes his head. “Both chiefs had to save face, particularly when the district attorney got the call first, then the media, and we were the last to know. But it’s more of a pro-forma. My guts don’t tell me they’re still out there.”

“You don’t believe it’s him?”

“He perfectly fits Yamato’s profile. Had several sexual relations with married CEOs, naively accepted promises of secured futures, let down just as quickly as he has been picked up.”

Sakura climbs on top of him and starts to grind on his hardened member. “Too bad. Akugawa is a nice colleague. I was the one who encouraged him to enroll in those meditation classes.”

One arm wraps around her waist to keep her steady while the other tugs away the sheet that comes in between their moist flesh. He brings her breasts closer to his tongue, his words lapping against her skin. “Oh you must be good in yoga too.”

“I’m flexible like that, Detective.” She slips his cock insider her ready core, and the fitting sensation makes the both of them shiver.

“What other things are you good at, Dr, Haruno?”

She locks eyes with him and words are lost as they start to find rhythm in their thrusts.

-xxxxxxx-

April 25, 2021, 6:27 AM

“I take it they’re gonna name you as the director for the overseas expansion.” He asks as soon as they step out of her penthouse.

He didn’t expect to step foot in her domain; he knew it was how the elites operate, but maybe she waited for the sixth date to test him. He couldn’t deny how he was intimidated by her biometrics door, the large cctv panels on her foyer, and her voice-automated house system, but it fascinated him to see the bleak contrast of her plant-filled space against the extravagant automations and sharp marble floor.

“I’m not quite sure.” She angles her eyes on the retina scanner, and the security system beeps to life. The whole floor will be inaccessible even to the administration until she comes home. “Either way, it’s gonna be a success for the Senju-Haruno corporation and its shareholders.”

“Shouldn’t they give you bodyguards then?”

Her fingers ease in into his waiting hand. “I have a detective for a lover. I’ll be fine.”

He leaves soft kisses on her knuckles. “Can’t your lover be worried?”

“I don’t think they’ll come after me. I’m a woman, remember?”

6:41 AM

“Sorry to delay your trip to the office. I’ll just check the ravine again.” They hazard park on the side of the forest. “Stay put. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Sakura nods with a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll stretch my legs out for a bit, but I really wouldn’t want to wander. I don’t know the area quite well.”

He hops off the car, unaware that a nondescript black sedan stopped a few meters away from their spot. Sasuke traverses the wide trunks and mossy forest floor until he finds the exact dumping spot – a clump of thorny bristles and rue hedges. His eyes survey the surroundings and notices a disturbed, rather steep area above the ravine, a tricky slope which cannot be possible for someone like Akugawa. With his built, he would have skidded down when he dumped the body. It had to be someone petite.

Light footfalls behind him. Sasuke glances at the sound, his hand ready to pull out his gun.

“Sorry I followed you. I’m kinda jumpy.” Sakura waves at him from above the slope, her silhouette prominent against the morning backlight.

Then his eyes register another bigger, taller, heavier silhouette behind her.

“Sakura!”

Gunshots miss Sasuke by a breadth, but he doesn’t miss how the hooded figure clamps a hand over Sakura’s mouth and drag her away into the forest. He scrambles up and follows their trail, cursing his ineptness.

His breaths are louder than the wakening birds and traffic on the roadside, and his feet feel more like lead for every tree that leads him deeper into the forest. Then he hears two consecutive shots, and he feels all of his sensory motors go into overload.

Sasuke’s feet direct him to the sound. When the vines give way to a clearing, the first thing he sees is her disheveled rose hair, pulled apart from her high bun, tousled like an unkempt mane on her back.

And a dead man on the forest floor, a gunshot to the head, and another on his side.

She was trembling, eyes wide, clenched teeth, and closed fists. Giving her time to adjust to the events, he goes first to the perpetrator and lowers the hoodie. It’s one of the Mingwa private cronies, probably following him to make sure he isn’t doing independent investigations. But since they touched a Haruno-Senju heir, the corporate publicity will angle this as harassment and attempted assault while the private faction will absolve their hands of any involvement. He calls Kakashi and Asuma for help.

After which, he glances at her, and she finally blinks out of daze. She slumps against him as soon as he’s near, and the reverberations of her body immediately hit him.

“I’m sorry,” he says even though he has a lot of questions.

“He slipped and I went for the gun,” she whispers shakily against his shirt.

Yet he still wonders why there were two shots when one to the head could have sufficed, especially with unfamiliar hands. Or how she’s able to take down a man that size with her dainty wrists.

“I’ll call in sick today. Bring me home?”

He tightens his hug before he lets her go then he realizes he’s not familiar with the terrain.

She tugs on his coat and starts to walk. “If we cut across here, we’ll see the road in five minutes.”

-xxxxxxx-

May 5, 2021, 10:22 AM

“Did Dr. Haruno come back okay?” Kakashi sits down across Sasuke’s desk and fidgets with his unused pens. Even though the investigation was halted, his room remains littered with manila papers, bulletins, and notes on the white board. The necessity to preserve becomes apparent when they receive news of Akugawa posting bail this morning.

Sasuke nods in response. “She still went through with her trip to Belgium last April 28. I don’t know when she’ll be back, but I’m not privy to her internal emotions so it’s not my place to say she’s okay.”

“About time they gave her bodyguards.” The chief detective taps an unlit cigarette stick on his desk. “It’s great seeing you like this.”

“This what?”

“Happy?”

Sasuke clucks his tongue. “It’s not official. She just might be in it for the thrills.”

Kakashi smirks and lights up his stick. “Sex must be great then.”

“Get out, Hatake.”

A rap on the door catches both of their attention. Yamato comes in followed by Asuma, Tenten, Jugo, and Neji.

“There’s a fourth body in the same ravine. Body is now with the ME. Estimated time of death is enough for Akugawa to file for several cases. It’s gonna be a media bloodbath,” Asuma says.

As the lot file out of the office, Kakashi pulls Sasuke to fall behind a bit. “Trust no one, Uchiha.”

11:45 AM

There’s something off-putting about the smell.

This body does not follow the two-week gap; the ME estimated the date of his death on April 27. This slight change in MO presents the possibility of a copycat, but other than that, all injuries are the same – a stab in the carotid, teeth pulled out, arms and feet cut, genital missing – which means another thing, the killer slipped somehow and they’re on a rush. For what, they don’t know.

“Ando Suzuki, CEO of Suzuki Airlines for Japan,” Asuma states his name for confirmation. “Let’s do our usual. It’s time we ramp up our progress, Uchiha.”

Sasuke ignores the pointed insinuation and steps closer to the corpse. It didn’t rain last week despite the forecasts so the state of the body is more or less preserved. He brings his nose closer to the neck, right where the murder tool punctured the artery.

“Sasuke, what are you doing?” Tenten asks. “Forensics have close up shots for that.”

“It’s the smell.”

“Like decomposers and rotting flesh?” Jugo scoffs.

“Is it possible that they might have tried to remove him?” Sasuke asks the ME who quickly goes to him and helps him turn the corpse on its side.

They see fresh scar on the pricked wounds, like someone tried to drag them out of the ravine. As if they knew the position would give them away this time. The smell hits him strongly when the ME returns the corpse to a prone position, and Sasuke almost vomits when he recognizes it.

It can’t be. In controlled breaths, he steps away from the examining table and slumps against the wall. Kakashi notices but pretends not to. It’s Tenten who slithers beside him inconspicuously and taps on his arm. She raises a brow which he responds to with a cluck of his tongue.

“I’ve always wondered,” she starts. “Why can’t it be a woman?”

“If you can recreate a position of a woman stabbing the artery without defense wounds, let me know,” Yamato says with a cold smile. It’s meant to shut Tenten up; he doesn’t like his profiles being challenged. “And the smell you’re talking about Sasuke? It’s jasmine. The area probably has blooms.”

2:30 PM

“Something’s weird with Uchiha,” Neji pulls out his badge, ready to present it to the landfill. They’re revisiting dumping sites again for a second go-through. The killer is starting to leave breadcrumbs all over the place. “Did you see how pale his face went earlier?”

“Jasmine and rotting flesh don’t make good perfume,” Tenten figures. The guard sees their badges and gestures for them to come inside.

There’s a peculiar batch of scavengers in the area, people who aren’t part of junkshops or associations, just individual peddlers. A bald man in his 70s glances their way and starts to move towards their directions with only one foot and crutches for the other.

“Police?” He has a putrid gummy smile. “That lad didn’t come here again.”

Neji tugs Tenten away, but his wife stays rooted to the spot. “A lad?”

The old man opens his palm.

“He just wants money, dear,” Neji grumbles. “Let’s go now and talk to the real rational people.”

Tenten pulls out her wallet and sticks a wad of one dollar bills on the man’s hand. “A lad?” She repeats.

“Thought it was our fellow. We have young ones with us, you know, like your age but definitely shorter in height. He comes in dressed in a black raincoat and plastic boots, dragging bulky garbage bags like they’re not heavy at all.” His smile gets bigger by the count of the bills.

“Did you get a good look at this man?” Tenten asks, still unwilling to let go.

“Tenten,” Neji warns.

“This might be our lead. A concrete lead for once.”

“Wind knocked his garbage of a hood one time. Shiny bald head says hi.”

Neji is at the end of his wits. “Dear, you’re not even sure if he’s talking about our guy.”

Tenten sticks a 10-dollar bill on the old man’s almost torn shirt pocket. He proceeds with a guttural laugh, the phlegm oozing through each gasping breath. “He always dumps those bags on a full moon.”

4:30 PM

Sasuke sneaked in earlier to the administration office just before the receptionist’s desk came into view. With slight intimidation into play, he managed to get duplicate recordings of the cctv of the whole floor.

He taps Kakashi for help and another IT staff.

“Looks normal to me,” the silver-haired man remarks. “Why are you snooping on your girlfriend?”

“All of them were her patients at one point,” Sasuke replies. “And we don’t do labels.”

“But their visits were nowhere near their kill dates.”

“Their visits were logged as emergency procedures because Akugawa or their company doctor wasn’t available. So why?”

Kakashi smirks. “Are you insinuating they were there to get a glimpse of her? The recluse medical corporation heir. Nothings amiss in the recordings, right? No sexual body language?”

Sasuke hopes the same, but the lurch in his guts tells him otherwise. He swallows whatever saliva that hasn’t dried yet in his mouth in anticipation of the inevitable.

“The recordings are fine. She’s always accompanied by her assistant when she has clients,” the IT replies. “It’s the code that bothers me. You see, a malware is playing with it, looping the same frames while continuing the time ticks. Either someone knows their technology or this is a complete human error.”

-xxxxxxx-

May 7, 2021, 12:01 PM

“Oh, it’s you,” Laura says nonchalantly, never glancing up from her keyboard, and click-clacking away even though it’s already lunch break. “She’ll be out in a minute.”

“Do you know how to code?” He doesn’t spare her a glance either, his eyes trained on the door.

“Is this a side job? I can get Shin if you’d like. He fixes the systems here when he has time. He’s a computer geek before he settled for dentistry.” She stops typing and eyes her wristwatch. “She’s here.”

True enough, the door opens just as Laura tells him. She wears her rose hair loose today, falling like waves against her tucked in white long sleeve polo and denim jeans. She spots him after she gives her white coat to her waiting assistant.

Smile, wave, and unhurried walk to reach him. “A lunch break?”

“Wondering if you were still alive after your trip.” The jasmine in the air transports him to two different scenes, his memory being stretched out in two drastic dimensions, one where she’s writhing beneath him and one where he sees the corpse falling on top of him. The scents mix, and he fails to cover up his gag. Both women look at him with brows raised but he waves them off with his handkerchief.

“Days of absence and your heart grows fonder. That saying is true after all.” She places a hand on his cheek and softly taps it. “A sandwich?”

“I’m starving.”

“Two sandwiches then.”

8:19 PM

She invited him for dinner while they were munching on half-dozen random sandwiches from Subway. He didn’t talk about the case nor did he question her radio silence since her Belgium business trip. This was why she genuinely liked Detective Uchiha Sasuke.

Or maybe it was just the first time she was treated like she had an agency. The gestures for permission, the unspoken questions of consent, the way he wouldn’t touch her first or grab her or mar her skin even when they were having sex. Most men would have their true natures revealed once shown the great pussy. But there he was, always cradling her like she was porcelain china. Not that she minded. It was a breath of fresh air to be held like that, in gentle caresses and soft whispers that beg to betray his true feelings at any given second. It was madness not to be consumed by it, but it was tragedy that she only knew of this reality just now.

She knew he had an inkling. She messed up in the forest. If she had the luxury of time, she would have dismembered the man who grabbed her. A stab from a scalpel was a merciful way to go, and that man didn’t deserve it. Filthy hands.

The anger rushes to the surface, and she stabs the roasted meat rather too loudly.

“Is your meat still alive?” He emerges in her dining room and continues to look around. “Your wooden mansion is a far cry from your depersonalized penthouse.”

She laughs as she strains the cooked pasta. “I like having two personalities.” He must have triangulated by now that the location of this mansion is smacked in the center of the dump sites, a safe, close distance to the landfills, the forest, and even the meditation place. He must have seen the black pick-up truck on her garage, the one she uses for farming. She can see all the pieces fitting into a completed puzzle in his head, and she’s sad to let him go.

He opens the wine she placed on the counter, and he fills himself a glass. “You also have a crystal collection like Akugawa.”

“I gave him his first obsidian. Their healing properties are supposedly at maximum during full moon.” She places two plated bolognese pasta on the table and a wide platter of medium rare meat. “Dinner’s ready.”

“This looks good.” His tone is genuinely fascinated. “Didn’t know you could cook. We always dined in or ordered take out.”

“A change of pace, wouldn’t you think?” She also fills herself a glass of wine and watches in amusement as he takes a first bite of the meatballs she especially prepared for him.

“You should tell me where you source your meat. I’ll one up you in our next dinner.”

I’m too sad there won’t be a next one.

10:17 PM

Sakura changes position, and she’s on top of him, gyrating her hips in familiar pleasure. Sasuke wants to take it slow, to re-encounter her folds and curves after several days of not seeing her, despite his senses overriding in danger. He took her an hour ago, on her immaculate grainy wood counter, wine spilling on the sink as he thrusted into her unclothed core. She had gone commando, and this drove him insane. Maybe his lust is taking over him, clouding his judgment, muddling his perfect frame by frame memories, but he has to play this game. It’s only a matter of time.

He feels her insides throb in urgency, and he knows she’s near her orgasm. Her juices leak out, and he bucks against her wetness, releasing his load into her with eyes closed.

He waits for the scalpel to puncture his carotid, but nothing comes. “Sakura.”

She continues riding his limp member and rubbing her clit against his balls. A strategic distraction as they are coming down from a high. He expects her to trace lazy circles on his abdomen, a mannerism he picked up from their nights, but the dainty hands go to his neck instead.

He opens his eyes, and he sees a different Sakura. Her microexpressions are different, her eyes throwing daggers, soft pliant lips in hardened scowl, and hollowed cheeks.

“I don’t know what’s your issue with a scalpel, Sakura.” Her voice is different, the accent changed. “You must have fallen in love with him already. Such a frail human.”

“I wanted to prepare myself before I see him go. That is all.” Her face shifts and the emotions return to the Sakura he knows. He also notes the loosening grip on his neck, unaware that he is holding his breath.

Another shift and it’s back to the other Sakura. “She has such a saccharine charm effective in luring me to do things.” She smiles at him, but it’s not the smile he’s familiar with. “Don’t worry, you’re not gonna die yet.”

She chokes him with surprising strength. He places pressure on her wrists and elbows, but she doesn’t budge. His legs start to thrash out beneath him, and his sight starts to dim.

“Great work as always, sister. We’ve always wanted the truth about Madara, don’t we?”

[bugabash]

Hold me while we Fall

Miraculous x Attack on Titan au

Fear was a complex that almost everyone within the walls grew to have as second nature. No one had seen a titan besides the scouts since the walls were erected, and the schools taught the children about the monsters beyond the wall in few details. But to Marinette it wasn’t the creatures that fascinated her, it was the world beyond. She had studied books on the wonders outside. But they never taught it in school, and she was chastised for bringing it up. So, the young girl kept it to herself, only sharing it with her sister. She feared the titans beyond the walls, everyone did, it was drilled into them from birth that they were the cattle to the wolves outside, but her family always made sure it was the furthest thing from her mind.

But that was before, and now everything has changed.

Next

AO3

Chapter 1: Marinette Dupain-Cheng

The year was 845 withing the walls of the Shiganshina district. Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood in her room that resided in her home above her father’s small bakery. She was eleven and a half, the half especially important to her when she defended her size to others. She was small, always hiding under her long dark hair that fell to her waist. But despite this her personality always shone through, making her extremely well liked with her peers. And with this came a very protective nature from them over her, feeling the need to shield her from everything, even from some of the stories of the Titans. But no one protected her more than her older sister, Tikki.

Tikki was fifteen, tall, beautiful, her long dark hair constantly in perfectly placed high pigtails, never a strand out of place, reaching down to her waist. She had bluebell eyes just like Marinette, freckles decorating her nose like an artist had painted them on her. She carried their mother’s feature more prominently than Marinette did which she embraced with pride. She was the definition of beauty. She was loved by all, known for her cheerful spirit and, well, being good at almost everything really. She was smart, charitable and all together a good person. She protected her sister from everything, determined to let Marinette grow up without the fear she had grown up with.

Marinette stood in front of her small homemade mannequin with her mauve dress she had been working on for a month now resting on it. Tikki was draped on her bed across their shared room, chattering away about her latest teachings from one of their father’s friends. Marinette was so used to it now, she just focused on her fingers as they threaded the needle through the fabric, counting the last few stitches in her head.

Four, three, two, one.

“It’s done!” She squeaked, interrupting her sister and causing her to jump and sit up, staring at Marinette with a confused expression. “It’s done! It’s d4one! It’s done!” She pulled it off the mannequin and spun around, her hair fanning out around her. Tikki laughed and stood up, jumping around excitedly and ran over. Marinette held it up to show it off to her big sister proudly, this was her first dress she did completely by herself.

“Wow! That’s so pretty, Nettie!” Tikki complimented, smiling proudly at her, “wanna try it on? You can show it off while we go to the market later!”

Marinette gasped and nodded, wriggling out of her current dress and threw it aside, standing in just her thin, white petty coat. Tikki helped her and soon she was in her dress. It was knee length, the red stitches standing out delicately against the mauve fabric. It was long sleeve with white ruffled at the cuffs, a lace like pattern around the neck and a tied up back. She spun around and squeaked with joy, it wasn’t perfect, but it was hers.

“Oh, Miss Marinette, you are the most beautiful ladybug in the land!” Tikki exclaimed with a playful curtsey, using her pet name for Marinette with a cheeky smile.

“I’m the prettiest Ladybug in the world!” Marinette giggled, jumping up and down, “let’s go show Papa!” She grabbed her sister’s hand and pulled her along, running downstairs into their home, she knew he would be downstairs in the bakery. She opened the door leading to the bakery and skipped down.

“Papa!” She called out excitedly, her father turning and smiling at her, “I finished my dress!” She spun around showing it off before running and jumping into her fathers strong arms. He laughed and picked her up with ease, hugging her tight.

“You look exquisite my little love bug!” Her father praised, beaming happily at both of them, “it looks amazing! Did Tikki help at all?”

“Nope, she did it all by herself!” Tikki replied with a smile, “little Ladybug, I need to go into the market, do you want to show off your new dress around town?” Marinette smiled broadly and jumped out of her father’s arms. “Ok good, go put on your boots and a coat.”

“Okay, now you be careful girls, okay? Please be home before the sun starts to set.” Their father warned as he turned back to his work. “You know the rules.”

“Yes Papa, we will be back soon, promise.” Tikki nodded, walking over and kissing his cheek before putting her own coat on.

“Papa, can we have the special bread with dinner? To celebrate my dress?” Marinette asked as she hopped around, trying to put her one boot on.

Their father chuckled heartedly, “of course, anything for my main girls. Now, could you please pick up this today.” He handed Tikki a small list and some money, giving her the same look he did whenever they went out, Marinette never knew what it was but it looked like a serious look. She was still too young to be told much, which she hated. She felt old enough.

“Yes Papa, we will be back soon.” Tikki smiled and pocketed the note in her thin fabric bag slung over her shoulder.

“Bye papa!” Marinette yelled and hugged him tight, kissing his cheek too before letting go.

He waved them off, laughing at how Marinette did one last twirl around a customer before leaving. They stepped out of the bakery and Marinette smiled, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth on her face, the wind blowing through her hair and the sound of the birds chirping around them. She opened her eyes and looked around at the world around her. Everyone was busy, children playing with others, mothers working with their babes on their backs, men working hard for their families. Life was hard, but it was happy, simple, peaceful. She loved her town, loved her life really. She had amazing friends and an amazing family. She looked up at her chatting sister, smiling.

As they walked Marinette looked out at the huge walls that protected them. She wondered if the monsters would ever get in, or if one day she could go beyond the wall. She knew it wasn’t possible for humans to live outside, but she still wondered. As her father and Tikki liked to tell her she was destined to meet someone and raise a family. Contribute to the town and survive. She wasn’t too sure on it all, but she did as she was told.

They reached the market soon enough, and something caught their eye, Tikki grabbing Marinette and pulling her off the road into the crowds. Marinette gasped, eyes wide.

The scouts, she had seen them many times before, saw their wounded and saw the families that grieved. Their neighbour lost three sons just last month. She remembered the blood curdling scream, her father had told her that the sons were most likely eaten by the Titans, explaining that that was why she must stay within the walls and stay away from the military.

Today they looked exhausted, almost defeated, the blood standing out on their clothes. Tikki gripped her tight, pulling Marinette against her body.

“Those poor men and women,” She whispered, Marinette looking up at her then back at the soldiers, “Marinette, always respect anyone who wears that uniform. They have given up everything to protect us. Do you understand?” Marinette nodded, looking back at them.

She caught the eye of one young man who was on horseback. His hair was pure black, the top of his hair long and in a bun, shorter pieced falling out here and there, while the underside was shaved to a fade with what seemed to be a haphazardly shaved pawprint on the side. He looked over at them, he must have spotted Tikki, she always caught peoples’ eye. He had green eyes with small pupils, he was handsome but looked young to be in the scouts. His jaw was covered in blood, his cape missing and his uniform stained, though it didn’t stand out much against his black t-shirt. He raised a brow, and tilted his head curiously, examining them. Marinette blinked before she waved, smiling pleasantly. This caught him by surprise, blinking a few times before he smiled and waved back. He had a peculiar smile, his canines looked almost catlike with the small extra length of them and it made her smile more. He was different, just like her and her sister were. Not to the extend but still. He seemed to find it amusing and winked at Marinette, laughing to himself before he turned his attention back to the front.

They watched them leave, the crowds whispering between themselves, Tikki’s grip never letting go of Marinette. Tikki quickly herded Marinette away, “let’s go.” She whispered.

“Did you see that scout?” Marinette asked as she walked, looking down at the stone she had started kicking. “He looked different, like us.”

“What?” Tikki asked, taken aback with a raised brow.

“His smile, I think he looks like he has teeth like a cat.”

“A cat?”

“Yeah, didn’t you see? I like his smile, its unique like us.”

Tikki stayed silent and eyed Marinette before looking forward again, “you know why we are unique, don’t you? Papa said he discussed it with you.”

“Yeah, because we are half Chinese, or oriental as he said.” She answered honestly, “he said we are rare and that there aren’t many of us left. That’s what makes us so special.”

“Well yes, but that is also why we must be extra careful and why we must not be out after sunset.” Tikki explained, her brows furrowed. “You know about the people that could harm us?”

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t think everyone is bad.” Marinette replied with a shrug, she hated these conversations, she didn’t like to think about all of that… of mama…

“I know, but there are bad people out there.” Tikki said before stopping and looking around. The world had almost gone quiet, the wind dropped, and the birds stopped singing. Marinette blinked and looked around too.

“Marinette…” Tikki whispered, grabbing her sister’s shoulder.

Marinette bit her lip and looked around, “what is it?”

Tikki looked like she was starting to panic and pulled Marientte aside. She crouched in front of her and held her shoulders, looking her in the eye. “Okay, I need you to listen to me. Never put yourself in danger, got it?” Tikki stopped and held onto Marinette’s shoulders tighter. Tikki’s blue eyes looked scared. “There are more scary things than the people who could take us. I have done everything to protect you from the reality of this life, but please, if anything happens, ever, you run, you hide, and you do whatever you can to survive.”

“Tikki… What- what are you talking about?” Marinette asked in confusion. She may not know much but she wasn’t an idiot, she knew there were dangers beyond and within the wall. But what was she talking about?

“Trust me, okay? Just listen to my words.” Tikki cupped Marinette’s face, “you are the most important thing to me, and I promised mama and papa that I would protect you from everything, let you grow up but something… something about those soldiers. I can’t lie to you anymore.” She sighed, Marinette felt tears in her eyes at the mention of her mama, “listen to me, if ever something goes wrong, you look after yourself before anyone else, okay? I know it sounds awful, but I need you to survive.” Marinette shook her head, that was an awful thing to say. “Life is survival, it’s not survival of the fittest anymore, its survival of the smartest. You are small, but strong, you’re smart, you use that big brain of yours, and you survive.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Marinette said with a frown, “why are you telling me this? Why can’t I help people if there is danger?”

“I…I….” Tikki looked away, biting her lip, Marinette felt her pulse through the hands on her cheeks. “I just… Promise me!” Tikki looked more serious than she ever had.

Marinette looked at her in confusion, where had this come from? This was so out of the blue, it was like Tikki knew something she didn’t. But what? “Tikki, I don’t understand.”

Tikki opened her mouth but she was interrupted when a crack of thunder echoed, a yellow strike of lightning appearing just beyond the wall. Everyone froze and watched, she had never heard silence like that. Tikki stood up and grabbed Marinette.

What was happening? She saw the huge hand on the wall and gasped. No… It couldn’t be… The wall was over fifty metres tall, no titan was ever that big.

“Oh god… no…” Tikki gasped, Marinette looked around, everyone was still, eyes on the wall. She turned her eyes to the wall and covered her mouth, her blood ran cold. A sweat overtook her body and she started shaking. That was when she saw the face appear. It was all muscle, even from this distance she could make out the eyes and teeth. “Marinette, run!” She heard her sister scream before a gust of hot wind overtook them, rubble flying everywhere then a loud bang. They were flung back into the air, her grip on Tikki gone as she screamed. She didn’t know how long they were in the air but when they landed it was hard and Marinette landed on someone who wrapped their arms around her. She had hit her head, she knew that much from the pain and the wetness trickling down her face.

She had the wind knocked out of her, her vision going white and a pain in her side stifled her scream. She heard screaming around her, and when her vision returned, she was on her back lying on another person who had their arms tightly around her. Dust was everywhere, people running around them and she could hear someone screaming her name. Wait, she wasn’t on Tikki?

“Hey, are you okay?” She heard a young boy’s voice ask under her in a yell, “Hey, can you hear me? Listen to me!” She coughed and struggled against the arms, he let go of her and she rolled off. She rolled onto her knees, her dress was torn slightly over her left side from their impact and blood was dripping onto the white lace around her neck She felt hands on her face and looked up, meeting green eyes. Time stood still and she stared at him in silence. He looked around her age, big green eyes, a cut under his left eye and short blonde hair. He looked so groomed he could be from the inner walls. He looked her over before grabbing her under her arms and pulled her up to standing, grasping her hand and pulling her away from the chaos towards who was screaming her name.

She let him pull her along, her body moving on its own as she stared back from where they came from. Boulders lay on top of people, blood everywhere, limbs lying across the road. Marinette gasped and her eyes widened. She felt her innocence shatter, felt everything of her being shatter. She had been so sheltered, and now…

“Hey, come on, you need to run, I cant carry you, please!” She heard the raspy voice yell in a panic, turning her attention to him with wide eyes. He saw them and gasped, looking past her and saw what she had just seen, pulling her behind a wall and hiding her against the cold stone. Realisation had hit him on what she had just seen, and so he pulled his cloak off and wrapped it around her, pulling up the hood. “Don’t look, I have you, I promise!” He grabbed her hand again and they were running again. Marinette gripped onto the boy for dear life, tears streaming down her face.

They’re dead… The titans, they were in. She didn’t know what was going to happen! Where was Tikki?

“Where are we going? Where is my sister?” Marinette screamed, she was half running half being dragged, but then she tripped up on her skirt with a scream and caused them both to fall, scraping her knee in the process as they rolled away, hitting a wall and stopped. The boy had his arms around her again as he kept her close to his chest as them stampede of people flew past, panting heavily.

“Are you okay? Can you still run?” He asked softly as he looked down at her, blinking when he saw her wide, terrified eyes. He frowned and tilted his head back, looking to where she was looking and froze, 50 feet away from them stood… a titan.

“No… How is that possible.” The boy whispered, sitting them up and pulling her back against his chest, being held close to him as she sobbed quietly. They were frozen, his grip on her tight around her, ruffling her dress between his fists. “A Titan…” Before them stood a huge humanoid creature, his grin ear from ear filled with large teeth, his hair long and black, his tall body muscled. Marinette started kicking her legs, trying to get away and grabbed at the arms around her, screaming for help. “I got you!” He cried as she struggled in his arm before lifting her up with a grunt, shifting her onto his back and began running as Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, gripping onto his shirt for dear life as he hooked his hands under her knees.

Marinette looked ahead and saw Tikki between the terrified crowds, she was with the scout from earlier, he had Tikki over his shoulder and was looking around as if he was looking for someone. She was kicking and screaming, eyes falling on Marinette and she stopped struggling, screaming for her with her hand outreached, causing the scout to look back, his eyes widening.

Marinette screamed out, “Tikki!” She gripped onto the boy tighter who had a determined look on his face, his eyes focused on the scout. “Tikki! Help-” before she could finish her sentence a titan grabbed them out of no where, causing them both to scream and grab onto each other, the boy twisting and pulling her against his chest. The boy started punching the giant fingers around them, his other arm holding her tight against him, Marinette never let her eyes look away from the toothy grinned giant staring at them in hunger. “Tikki!” Marinette screamed.

“Marinette! NO!” Tikki screamed, Marinette looked over at her to see her fighting the scout who was yelling something at her. He didn’t have his gear, Marinette noticed, her heart sinking as she turned her attention back to the monster in front of them. He was raising them up, the grip getting stronger, the air being squeezed from them. The boy yelped and looked at her in fear. She looked back, tears streaming down her face. They stared at each other before he smiled at her small, lacing their fingers together and keeping their eyes locked.

“Just keep looking at me, okay?” He said softly, she nodded and gripped onto his hand, sniffing and wiping her nose on her arm as she cried. “It’ll be okay, what’s your name by the way?”

“M-Marinette.” She whispered in reply, shaking and stifling a scream as a big hand started to reach for them, the boy squeezing her hand more, the other arm around her tightening, pulling her so her face was against his chest, resting his head on hers.

“I’m Adrien.” He replied, he was shaking as well, tears falling. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” She shook her head, eyes starting to turn towards the hand that was so close now she could feel the warmth, her eyes widening. But Adrien wasn’t having it, tightening his arm again and making her look back up at him. “Keep looking at me or hide, just don’t look. I got you.” He whispered.

The grip on them tightened and her eyes shot open as fingers grabbed the cloak fastened around her, lifting her out of the hand, she screamed for dear life as Adrien tried desperately to keep his strong grip on her. “Adrien!” She screeched, gripping his hands for dear life. He was screaming for her, desperate to get her back. “NO! NO! ADRIEN! TIKKI! PAPA!!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, her grip being pulled from Adrien’s her heart stopping and her eyes widening. She locked eyes with the terrified boy, he looked like he was about to be sick.

She wasn’t sure if it was because he had lost her, or because he was next but the boy started screaming and hitting at the hand again. She looked at the titan as it held her up to his face, staring at her with empty, dead, hungry eyes. She was hanging from the cloak, it was slowly pressing against her neck, making it harder and harder to breath. She was sure she had wet herself, feeling warmth go down her legs. This was it; this was the end. She watched as he opened his mouth, the stench was rancid, making her gag and cover her mouth with her trembling hands. She started screaming for help again, kicking at the Titan, she didn’t want to die.

She felt time move in slow motion as she was lifted up higher, closing her eyes and hugging herself. She heard Adrien screaming for her desperately, but her hearing left her, a soft hum taking over. Was her body getting her ready to die? She had read something about it, a fight or flight within the body, protects you from the trauma or the pain to come so to speak. Adrenaline, was it? But she wasn’t sure it was true until now.

Then suddenly she wasn’t being held up as air filled her lung from the loss of pressure on her neck, feeling the air from falling overwhelming her. It’s over… It’s over… But instead of being bitten in half or feeling the wetness of a tongue, she was hit by another body, eyes flying open to see the ends of blonde hair as she was suddenly going another direction. Reality set in and the haze faded quickly, she wrapped her arms and legs around him as he did to her, burying her head in his neck as she braced for impact. And boy was it a hard one.

They hit a corner of a wall, spinning in the air and slamming into the floor, both gasping and coughing for air. She opened her eyes wide as she took a deep breath and gripped the boy that lay on top of her, covering her from danger. She looked back at the Titan to see it was missing his hands, swiping at the soldier who had appeared. She saw the roses and knew exactly why they were there. She didn’t have much time to think after that as the boy got up and pulled her up, grabbing her and flinging her on his back, running as fast as he could. He was limping as he ran, his groans while he panted telling her that he was injured just like she was.

By the time Marinette could register what was going on fully she was pulled off his back despite her screams of protest to be met by a tight hug. She blinked and looked up, “Marinette!” Tikki… She found her! Marinette broke down and hugged her tight, her sister hitched her up and held her close to her body, and they were running again, Marinette clung on for dear life. She opened her eyes and saw the dark-haired scout behind her, the boy draped over his back. He looked exhausted but still clung to the young man, Adrien’s head hung over his shoulder.

They ran in the screaming crowds, avoiding the many titans that were eating everyone they could. But Marinette kept her eyes on the boy, he had risked his life for her, a stranger. Why did he do that? After what her sister had said to her earlier, she was confused to why he had risked his life to save her?

After what seemed like ages they suddenly stopped, the older teens panting heavily. Tikki shifted Marinette with a grunt and she could feel that Tikki was wet from sweat. “Marinette, I need you to run, okay?” She whispered, placing the girl down who stood on shaking legs, nodding and looking back at the scout who didn’t look like he was struggling as much, but the boy on his back fought against him and jumped to his feet, running to Marinette and took her hand, eyes fixed on her and full of something Marinette had never seen before. She gulped and looked at their clasped hands before she looked around fearfully.

The scout didn’t look pleased but grunted, Tikki looked at the scout who just frowned and started running. The boy pulled Marinette with him, Tikki running behind them. Marinette looked around as she was pulled along, people were being eaten, trampled, crushed, there was nothing but death and despair. How could they survive this?

After not too long they were approaching the main gate in wall Maria, Marinette looked around desperately for her father, but never saw him. They all slowed down, gaining their breath back slowly. They joined the crowd, heading slowly towards the arch. The one flaw of the districts that lay outside the wall was there was only one exit. She remembered her father complaining about it constantly. She looked back at her sister, seeing Tikki was next to the scout who Marinette had figured out his name was Plagg. They were arguing in hushed voices, she wanted to ask Adrien what was going on but she didn’t know if she could speak yet.

Did they know each other? The way they were arguing and their body language spoke a thousand words. But she had never seen this man until today. But then again here she was clinging to the boy next to her, their fingers interlocked and her other hand gripping onto his arm for dear life. He didn’t seem to mind, looking up at him and saw he was looking around with a serious expression. Now that things had slowed down, she got a proper look at him.

He was taller than her by maybe a few inches, his face young and his green eyes bright. The right side of his face was covered in blood, his cut dirty and deep under his eye, another cut on his forehead. She didn’t think she looked any better, feeling the dried blood on her face and the pain from her cuts. She looked down at his dark green shirt and saw red over the side they had hit the corner of the wall on, her brows furrowing. He was injured, and he still managed to carry her out of there.

“He’s my brother.” Adrien spoke softly, turning her gaze back up to his face, he was looking down at her now, smiling small, “Plagg, the one talking with your sister, Tikki was it?” Marinette nodded, looking at the two arguing teens, “he’s a scout, the only reason he’s in Shiganshina is because of me.” He looked down darkly, his eyes looked sad for some reason. “But, hey, that meant I was there to catch you.” He looked at her and smiled sadly.

She blinked up at him, she didn’t know what to say, her whole mind felt shattered. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Why couldn’t she speak? Was she really that weak?

He seemed to understand and nodded, “hey, it’s okay. We have been through a lot today, you don’t have to talk. I’m just glad I could help even one person.” She again blinked, he was so kind, probably the kindest person she had ever met. Why save her?

They both looked up when Tikki turned to them, “stay close, we need to get onto the boats, but there are a lot of people in front of us. You stay by us no matter what, okay?” They both nodded and she sighed, eyeing their clasped hands before turning back, Plagg whispered a comment that caused Tikki to hit his arm, telling him off again.

“Plagg, we need to get them away from here.” Marinette heard her sister say, eyeing her curiously. Tikki’s hair was ruffled, her pigtails messed and some hair had fallen out, framing her face. She had a small cut on her cheek. But what stood out the most was that she looked terrified.

“Yeah, yeah, I know that, sugarcube.” The scout replied with a scowl, “what do you think I’m doing exactly?”

“Well, so far my sister was almost eaten, let snot even bring up the state of them, and my dad is probably dead!” Tikki yelled back at him, pouting as she glared.

Suddenly they heard the footsteps, freezing and spinning around. Their eyes wide. Adrien gasped and pulled Marinette close, his eyes wide and his jaw clenched. In the distance they saw a huge titan sprinting towards them, his arms flinging around him, his jaw slack. Marinette screamed and was suddenly pulled to running by Adrien, turning her gaze forward the saw Tikki being pulled along by Plagg.

They had got out! How were they in danger again! This couldn’t be happening! She looked back just as the titan hit the ground, gasping as she saw the rubble heading towards them she looked at Adrien and saw he hadn’t seen it, his eyes focused on the road ahead. HE had saved her all this time, and if that debris hit them he would be hurt or possibly die. She looked back and gasped, she had to do something! She let go of his hand, causing him to gasp and look at her. She didn’t hesitate and shoved him hard, causing him to yell her name and fall to the side just as the debris hit her. She was hit hard, being smacked back, tumbling until she skidded to a halt, her body limp.

All she felt was pain, her vision went white, and she felt her dress suddenly getting wet. She tried breathing but it was laboured, and she heard gargling a bit. Her body was shaking, the pain coming from her left side of her face down to her shoulder. What was wrong with her? Was she dead? Was she dying? What about Adrien?

Suddenly she felt hands on her neck, she heard her sister far in the distance and then strong arms were carrying her and she was bouncing in them, the wind blowing over her. She heard others yelling and the whiteness started to fade. She was staring up at the sky, her mouth hanging open slightly, gasping for breath. Why did it feel like she was drowning? Was she drowning? No that was silly, she was in someone’s arms.

She felt someone had her hand, a soft voice speaking to her until they finally stopped. She felt hardness under her and suddenly her sister’s face was above her and she felt pressure on her neck, cheek and shoulder. She looked around without moving her head, Tikki’s tears catching her attention. Tikki? Why was she crying? What was wrong with her?

“Marinette? Oh god, oh shit, please, don’t die, no, please don’t die!” Tikki was saying, crying softly. “Plagg, do something!”

“Do what exactly? Do I look like a doctor? I’m doing everything I can!” The young man hissed back, he tore the bottom of Tikki’s skirt and started wrapping it around Marinette’s neck. “Just keep pressure! She’s lucky she’s even fucking alive!”

“Why did she do that?” She heard Adrien, he sounded distressed.

“She was saving you, if she didn’t do that you would be just as bad, possibly worse. She has some guts, I will give her that.” Plagg replied, leaning over her and looking into her eyes. She looked back, examining the dark green eyes, his small pupils getting even smaller as he frowned. “Just shut up and keep her calm!” She must have looked like she was panicking because suddenly Adrien’s face appeared as Plagg’s disappeared and looked down at her.

Marinette tried to speak but it sounded gargled, she felt him take her hand and her eyes darted toward him, seeing the dark faced boy. She should have spoken up earlier, now she can’t speak. She can’t thank this boy. A complete stranger who risked his life, who was covered in both his and her blood, banged up from protecting her. And she couldn’t even thank him. Adrien… He saw her panic and smiled sweetly, kissing her knuckles. She suddenly felt tired, darkness taking over quickly. “It’s okay, we got you, we are on the boat heading to Wall Rose, we are-“ Before he could finish his sentence there was an explosion and Plagg dove over Marinette, shielding her.

“Fuck!” He cursed and sat back up as Adrien took over his place, shielding Marinette, turning towards the wall and they all stared in silence. Marinette wanted to see but the pain was too bad so she gripped onto Adrien’s shirt. He looked down at her with an expression that scared her. She felt her eyelids flutter and darkness slowly took over, the last thing she see was Adrien’s face, his hands suddenly flying to her neck as he started yelling something. And then… nothing.

oOo

When Marinette first awoke she felt groggy and sore, her eyes barely opening. She groaned, lifting her hand and felt the rough bandaging from below her nose down to her breasts. Her mouth was covered so she couldn’t speak. She blinked a few times and looked up, expecting her sister or even Adrien’s face, but she was met by golden eyes under big, framed glasses. She blinked in surprise and stared at the dark-skinned girl standing over her, she had a heart shaped face and had fiery, long hair in a high pony, pieces framing her face. She was in a nurses uniform, but she looked the same age as Marinette.

“Hey girl.” The girl spoke chipperly, “you’re okay, don’t try to speak though. You’re in Troste district. You got badly banged up, but you’re safe now!” She smiled at her and picked up a clip board examining the paper.

Marinette felt the sheets under her hands, they were rough and they smelt funny. She realised she wasn’t on a bed but the floor, a sheet between her and the hard wood. What happened with the titans? Why was she in Troste?

“Marinette, is it?” She hummed and walked around Marinette, Marinette watched her with a raised brow. “You have internal damage, a big nasty cut from your cheek to your shoulder, some cuts on your face and torso, and some bruising. You really fought for your life, didn’t you?” She looked at Marinette with… admiration? “You’re like those scouts, you’re a superhero!” She dropped to her knees and grabbed Marinette’s hand, Marinette’s eyes widening. “That’s so cool!”

Cool? Marinette didn’t think it was cool. She had just experienced the worst day of her life and she couldn’t do anything right, needing others to save her. She felt like a fool, she felt like a dumb child. Why did no one ever tell her how bad they really were? She felt so naive. She looked away from Alya and pulled her hand away. Alya blinked and looked at her with a concerned look, her smile falling. Marinette didn’t have the energy to help the girl with her feelings, she was dealing with her own. Her eyes were empty, the sparkle gone, her innocence gone. Hell, everything she thought she was now seemed pathetic. She noticed she wasn’t in that stupid dress she had spent a month or so on, how frivolous it seemed now. She was glad she wasn’t in it, she didn’t want any reminders. Reminders of them, of the death, of how she was useless.

She couldn’t even protect herself, she had to have others save her, protect her, carry her. She was weak. She was worthless. She needed to get stronger, she had to. She would never let anyone suffer because of her again. The only good thing she did today was push that boy out of the way.

“Hey,” Alya dragged her from her thoughts, looking back at the girl. She looked concerned, “you’re safe now. I promise.” She placed her hand on Marinette’s. Marinette wanted to believe her, but she didn’t know what the truth was anymore. “I’m going to stay here with you tonight, okay? Your sister isn’t far, she will be here soon. But I promise, I will stay with you.”

Marinette blinked up and her, tears filling her eyes. She realised then she had been trying so hard to keep it together. Alya smiled and did a quick examination on Marinette, chatting away about how she was helping her mom who was the head nurse here. After she was done, she shuffled under the sheet with Marinette, lying on her back and staring up at the roof. Marinette felt comfort in it. She couldn’t speak but that didn’t matter right now.

Alya stayed with her that night, describing her childhood, telling her everything about herself. Marinette hung on every word, by the time she passed out from exhaustion and pain she felt like she had known Alya since she was a child. She felt at peace in a way, but she felt different. She felt like she was changed forever, the girl she was the day before was gone now.

---

It took Marinette a long time to heal, Tikki hardly leaving her side and eventually becoming a nurse herself so that she was close to Marinette. Alya spent every night with Marinette, making sure Marinette felt alone and comforted her whenever she was sad. The worst night was when she climbed into the sheets and hugged her friend while she sobbed after finding out her father was dead, and soon every night she slept next to Marinette. She didn’t care that they slept on the floor, she refused to sleep anywhere else without Marinette. They were inseparable.

It was a few months before Marinette was asked to speak, the bandages finally removed and the deep sensitive scar standing red and angry against her pale skin. She was used to the dull pain in her jaw, the now scar didn’t hurt as much as when it was a cut, but the pain was still there.

“Okay Marinette, we need you to try to speak.” Tikki said softly, Alya was next to her, she had stolen a mattress from her home and had made herself comfortable next to Marinette, concerned eyes on her best friend.

Marinette gulped, it felt weird not having her mouth covered, She had only had her mouth uncovered to eat or drink, so it felt weird to be completely exposed. So she felt naked sitting there without the bandage, in the baggy green shirt she had found at the bottom of her bed months ago, a small cut on the side. It was Adrien’s, he had washed it and brought it for her. She knew it was, no one knew for sure but she knew in her heart it was his. She chewed her lip and looked at her sister. It took some time but finally the words left her mouth, “where is Adrien?”

Tikki blinked in surprised and furrowed her brows, “Who?” She asked, “wait, the boy?” Marinette nodded, Alya watched her in confusion, “He’s okay, he isn’t here anymore, he’s with his brother with the survey corps, I think. He’s okay.”

Marinette nodded and looked down at her hands in her lap, she had thought of him almost every night but even now his face was blurry. She tried so hard but she couldn’t make out his face clearly. All she saw was the blood, the titan ready to eat her, felt the warmth down her leg as she pissed herself, the chaffing after as she ran for her life. She was destroyed by the experience, but maybe she could do some good from it. She lay back down, rolling over, pulling the blanket over her mouth as comfort. The others looked at her sadly, knowing she needed space. Alya sighed and lay down next to her, hugging her tight.

"Marinette, I promise he is okay. He was here for a little while and he visited you a few times when you were asleep." Tikki said softly, stroking her sister's face. Marinette hid her face, Tikki knew this side of Marinette too well now. She sighed and got up, "okay... I will come back later."

Alya stayed silent as Tikki left before she whispered, "Marinette?"

Marinette looked back at Alya, "yeah?" She replied in a whisper, it felt amazing to be able to speak again.

"Who's Adrien?" Marinette realised her best friend had no clue about what happened to her, she had been silent for months and now it was her turn to use her voice to let Alya know her.

"He's a boy that... He saved me." She croaked, rolling over so they were facing each other. "He gave me this shirt, I know it. He was wearing it." She covered her mouth with the neck of her shirt, looking down. "Do you want to hear about what happened?" And with that Marinette spoke about the worst day of her life for the first time since it happened. The words fell from her lips and a pressure lifted off her chest. By the end she was sobbing, Alya's eyes were wide in horror, her mouth open in shock. That night they fell asleep holding onto each other, Marinette having her first night without any nightmares, and she could make out Adrien's eyes. So she focused on them, holding onto the image for dear life.

---

More months passed and Marinette was now fully healed, or as healed as she was going to get. It had been over a year since the break of wall Maria, Tikki and Marinette were now living with Alya and her family. Marinette’s wounds had healed but she now wore a pale pink, jagged scar from the far left of her cheek down her neck all the way to her collar bone. Because of this she was stared at constantly and they whispered about how she was a survivor. Her hair had grown longer since the fall of Shiganshina so she used her hair to her advantage, hiding under it yet again, and rarely speaking. Tikki constantly told her she was worried about Marinette, but Marinette ignored her. She didn’t want to talk about this stuff with Tikki, she knew she had her own problems and Marinette didn't want to put more on her.

The person she was, the cheerful, talkative girl was completely erased, as if she never existed. She now was quiet, subdued and emotionless. Alya was the only one who got anything out of Marinette, she even managed to make Marinette laugh, a sound Tikki hadn’t heard since the day of the attack. It wasn't that she had no personality anymore or anything, she just didn't have a reason to be cheerful or talk much anymore. Especially with her giant, ugly scar that she hated. Her scar was like a giant sign that read 'I survived the fall of Shiganshina, stare at me please'. She hated the stares but she was used to it now.

The only person she spoke to was Alya, they lay in bed together at night and whispered to each other. Marinette told her of her plans to join the military the coming weeks. Alya argued with her, saying that it was suicide, stating Marinette has only just recovered from her last experience with the titans. Alya wasn’t impressed but eventually promised to come with her to Marinette’s surprise, stating they were in it forever now.

“Alya, we could die.” Marinette whispered, lying on her side looking at her best friend who mimicked her, a frown on her face.

“I don’t care, look at you, I am not letting you go anywhere without me.” Alya retorted.

Marinette frowned, “I don’t need protection. Don't join the military just to keep an eye out for me, you could die!"

“I’m not coming to protect you, I’m coming to support you.” Alya sighed.

“I can do it alone.” Marinette frowned, looking away. She didn’t need anyone else getting hurt for her. "I don't want you to get hurt or end up like me."

“I know that, girl.” Alya replied softly, “but there is nothing wrong with others helping you. And we are in this till death, right?”

Marinette looked at Alya and sighed at their promise, linking their pinky fingers, “Till we die.”

“Till we die.” Alya repeated, grinning. “So when are you going to tell your sister?”

Marinette sighed and played with the string of her shirt, her mind drifting to Adrien again. “I don’t know, but she isn’t going to be exactly happy.”

“That’s the biggest understatement of the year.” Alya snorted, taking her glasses off and placed them aside. “All I will say is good luck, girl.”

Marinette sighed, watching as Alya blew out the candle, she knew she was right, telling Tikki was going to be hell. "You say that but you're the crazy woman following me to our deaths."

"Nah, it's only being crazy if I thought we would die." Alya replied, "which we wont, we are gonna be badasses."

Marinette chuckled and shook her head, "sure."

“Don’t worry about it tonight though, okay? Let’s just focus on getting some sleep tonight.” Alya smiled and got comfy, Marinette smiled, feeling the tug of her scar. She never smiled now because of it, but she never felt shy or like she had to hide from Alya. She could be herself.

"Yeah... Let's see what happens." She said before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

---

Tikki stared at Marinette like she had grown two more heads, her blue eyes wide with fear. “You… no, I… You WHAT!?” She screamed. They were sitting at the dining table in Alya’s house, the two girls sat on one side while Tikki and Mrs Césaire were on the other side. Tikki was standing up, her hands in fists. She looked like she could jump across the table and bundle Marinette up and hide her forever. She was in her nurse’s uniform, they had chosen to tell them now before their shift happened so that they could pack their bags. “You are barely twelve years old!”

“I’m thirteen soon, I am old enough, I’m joining.” Marinette said calmly. She watched her seventeen year old sister look shocked at her words. Marinette looked at her emotionlessly, being stuck in a bed for months not being able to speak and being stuck inside your own head makes you extremely good at handling emotions and stay in control.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tikki slammed her fists on the table, “it’s a suicide mission joining the military! Do you want to die?”

“No, I don’t. I want to make a difference. I almost died because I was weak, I don’t want to be weak anymore.” Marinette didn’t flinch as Tikki slammed her fist down again, her eyes fixed on Tikki.

“You can’t even comprehend or understand enough to join the military!” Alya gulped next to her, chewing her lip, her own mother staring her down but not saying a word. Tikki wasn’t staying silent.

“Respect anyone who wears that uniform, Marinette.” Marinette said softly, “Remember you said that to me?” Tikki blinked in surprise, stepping back. “I remember you said that minutes before we ran for our lives,” Tikki’s eyes widened and she gasped, “before I was almost eaten by a titan, before I got this.” She pointed at her scar, her brows furrowing. “So don’t tell me that I don’t understand or that I cannot comprehend death or what being a soldier means. I am well aware. I have the scar as a souvenir.” Her eyes darkened, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest.

Tikki stared at her in shock, holding the same look she always had when looking at Marinette recently. The look of not knowing who Marinette was anymore. Tikki turned to Mrs Césaire, “Marlena!” She cried, “say something! I can’t be the only one who doesn’t want this to happen!”

Mrs Césaire sighed and dropped the hand that was covering her mouth. “Alya, have you thought this through?”

“Yes mom,” Alya replied, straightening her back with confidence.

“You aren’t doing this to follow Marinette?”

“No ma’am.” Alya insisted, shaking her head, “I want to bring honour and pride to our family. I want to help with the war on the titans and get our world back.”

Mrs Césaire nodded, thinking for a minute before she stood up, wiping her eyes and walking over to Alya, pulling her to standing and engulfed her in a huge hug. She hugged her back, burying her face in her mothers chest. “We are already so proud of you, and you have already brought us honour by joining. I know you will be amazing.”

“What!?” Tikki was shocked, Marinette looked back at her with a raised brow, Tikki looked bewildered. “You are allowing this? They’re children!”

Mrs Césaire let go of Alya and frowned at Tikki, “they have experienced more than most adults. Especially Marinette.” She replied calmly, “if they want to join the military to make a difference we should be proud of them and their sacrifice! The men and women who are fighting this war against the titans are giving up their lives for us!”

“Exactly, giving up their lives!” Tikki yelled back, “I don’t want my sister dying at the ripe old age of 17 when she graduates!”

“I won’t die, and if I do it would be for the greater good!” Marinette stood up and yelled back.

“No it wont! You will die with your guts hanging out, piss down your leg and you will be crying out for a loved one begging not to die! I forbid this!” Tikki walked over and grabbed Marinette’s shoulders. “You are too weak!” Marinette gasped and stared at her sister in shock. “You will die!”

“Marinette isn’t weak!” Alya yelled, she looked ready to attack. “She is the strongest person I know!”

“The last time you saw a titan you almost died! You are too small, you won’t make it!” Tikki shook her shoulders angrily. Marinette frowned and pushed her sister off her, glaring at her.

“You can’t tell me what to do! You aren’t my mother and you aren’t my guardian.” She growled, “I can do whatever I like, and if anything Mrs Césaire is in charge of me.” Tikki looked surprised. “And I am not weak. If you don’t like it that’s not my problem. You can either support me or you can stay out of my business.”

Tikki glared at her sister before she grabbed her head scarf off the table and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Marinette sighed and sat down, dropping her head on the table with a grunt.

You are too weak… you will die…

Her sister’s words echoed in her head, she was expecting the words to hurt her but they didn’t, they made her more determined. She was going to make it, she just needed to prove everyone wrong.

“Ignore her, Marinette. She doesn’t know who you are, who you really are. You will prove her wrong.” Alya reassured her, resting a hand on Marinette’s back.

Marinette sighed and stood up, pushing the chair back and walked through to their bedroom, walking to the window and looked out. She saw the garrison soldiers on the wall, they were running drills today, she watched them swinging across the wall and felt a pang in her chest. She wanted to be up there, she needed to be up there.

She sighed and turned away, leaning against the wall and slid down to the floor, dropping her head against the wall. Her mind went to Adrien again, looking over at the green shirt draped on the bed. It was a year and a half since the fall of the walls, and his face was almost all but blurred. She remembers how he held her like she was the only thing that mattered. She remembered his voice, and all she could see were those green eyes. She felt her scar with her fingers, drawing her knees to her chest, staring at the crinkles in her skirt.

Where was he? Was he safe? Did he get badly injured? She had so many questions that were most likely never going to be answered. And that sucked. He was the reason she was joining the military, she was spared and he saved her life, a stranger’s life. She had a debt to pay, and she wanted to be good. Not just a good person but a good soldier. But that wasn’t the important thing now. In a few weeks she will be a recruit and will start her training. She needed to focus on that and get through. Her eyes travelled to the shirt again, sadness taking over and the tears came. She had been through so much, yet these moments came very rarely, and when they did she embraced them with open arms. Just happy to feel something.

---

“Tikki I will be fine.” Marinette stared at the uniform in front of her. The cadet badge standing out against the tanned jacket. Her last conversation with her sister the night before echoing in her head. “Just… don’t die, okay?” Tikki had helped her cut her hair and gave Marinette her red ribbons much to her surprise. Now they were tied in her short, low pigtails, the ribbons floating down her back. Something of her sister to keep her safe.

She gulped and started to strip, pulling her new uniform on proudly. She wore her dark green top underneath her jacket, her dark brown sash around her waist fit perfectly and then her white trousers. Everything was custom made for her she figured, because it fit perfectly. She sat down and pulled on her knee-high boots, determination filling her.

Soon they were on the courtyard, in their formation at attention. Marinette looked around, she hadn’t met anyone yet, Alya standing next to her. She finally made it, she was finally here. She clenched her fists and looking to the side at her friend, smiling small at her before her face went hard. She was going to prove everyone wrong; she was going to join the survey regiment and she was going to make a difference. She looked forward, the horrors she saw flashing in front of her eyes, taking a deep breath and relaxed her fists. She had made it, now she had to actually do it.

[eatsleepandsupernatural]

Saved - Chapter Eight

Saved Masterlist

Pairings: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Character Death, Angst, Character Resurrection, excerpts from 14x08

Word Count: 2,243

A/N: Hey! The following chapter does contain some aspects of the Supernatural episode Byzantium. I would like to just state that I do not own those particular paragraphs of this chapter or of course the characters (but we already knew that). You probably didn’t expect the chapter to go this way, it was my plan from the beginning because of an idea I had, can’t tell you yet. Anyway, hope you don’t mind and I hope you enjoy! XX

Tags: @akshi8278​ @goddessofmischiefs​ @flutistbyday2020​ @samsgirl93​

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

   Tossing and turning, surrounding yourself with your Alphas scent, no matter how hard you tried, you can’t sleep. Your thoughts are on Jack, the image of him collapsing on the floor, coughing up blood, is replaying over and over in your mind. He had quickly become your closest friend, keeping you company while Sam and Dean went on hunts. You had made a habit of sneaking into the ‘Dean Cave’, cooking up some popcorn and watching movies for hours at a time. The way Jack’s eyes fixed on the T.V like an excited puppy always made you smile. You had barely known him, but the memory of him passing away, his hand grasped firmly in yours, was overwhelming. 

   You shove the covers off and leave your room in search of Dean and some comfort. You had gone to bed once he and Cas brought Sam back safely after he had left the bunker, feeling the need for some alone time. Hours have passed and your need for your Alpha grew stronger every second. 

   You find him passed out in the kitchen, surrounded by empty glasses and half drunk bottles of whiskey, snoring louder than you had ever heard. 

   ‘Dean...Dean, you shouldn’t sleep here.’ You speak softly into his ear and gently shake his shoulder in an effort to wake him up. ‘Dean.’ 

   ‘I don’t think he’s waking up anytime soon, Y/N.’ You turn around to face Cas, who is watching you from the doorway. ‘Why are you awake?’ 

   ‘I never went to sleep, couldn't.’ You admit quietly, knowing what was going to come next, silently wishing it was Sam who had found you. 

   Cas glances between you and Dean before sighing and holding out his hand, ‘It would be unfair to wake him now. Come on, I’ll get you settled.’ 

   You place your hand in his and let him lead you back to your room, but you don’t make it easy for him, dragging your feet along the way. There is no hiding the fact that you are frustrated with him, with everyone. Jack is dead and they are still hiding things. You want to know why Jack was sick in the first place, and for how long. You want to know why, whenever you ask about anything supernatural related you are ignored. 

   ‘Y/N, what are you doing? Aren’t you tired?’ Cas asks when you pull your hand from his and take a few steps back to put some space between you. 

   ‘I am tired. I am tired of being kept in the dark. Did you ever think that maybe I would have been able to help Jack if I had known what was going on? He was my friend, and I lost him, and I don’t even know why. All you guys do is keep me in the dark for ‘my protection’, but one day, that’s going to come back and bite you in the arse. I may have been afraid of the idea of monsters being real when I first moved in, but I’ve seen Sam and Dean come back from enough hunts to accept that truth now. I’m ready to fight, to help. Dean, he is never going to let me near a gun. I need you to let me help, teach me to fight Cas, please.’ 

   Cas stares at you, surprised by your outburst. He frowns for a moment, deep in thought, before approaching you slowly. ‘I’m sorry you feel that way. I will talk to Dean.’ 

   You roll your eyes at his response and slouch your shoulders. ‘Like that will do...Hey!’ 

   Cas cuts you off mid sentence, grabbing you around the waist and placing two fingers to your forehead. ‘Go to sleep Y/N’

   ‘Y/N, wake up,’

   ‘Omega.’ A firm hand on your shoulder and the smooth voice of your Alpha draws you from a peaceful, deep sleep. Your eyes meet Deans tired ones, the bags sitting below them prominent. 

   ‘Morning’. You sit up against the bed head, accepting the glass of water Dean offers you. 

   ‘Afternoon, actually.’ 

   ‘Stupid Angel.’ You grunt, making Dean chuckle softly. 

   ‘I had an interesting conversation with Cas this morning.’ He informs you, turning serious once again. ‘He told me you had trouble sleeping, went for a late night stroll.’ 

   ‘Didn’t realise that was something I wasn’t allowed to do.’ You shoot back. You aren’t sure where the attitude is coming from, but you are sick of Dean’s Alpha behaviour. 

   ‘I didn’t say that.’ He speaks quickly, eyes scanning your face in an attempt to read your thoughts. ‘But he told me what you spoke about, and I’m sorry. Truly. My intentions were always to keep you safe, and in doing so, I’ve pushed you away. And you’re right, chances of you holding a gun in this lifetime, or any other lifetime are pretty small. But you’re also right, that I have been letting the Alpha in me control my actions, and I have been unfair to you. If you believe that you are ready, you can be put on research duty. That means books only, no knives, no guns, no ghosts. We got a deal?’ 

   You stare at your Alpha with wide eyes, shocked and disbelieving. Dean stands up from the bed and smiles down at you, ‘You coming? You might want to get dressed. We have a guest.’ 

   You take a few minutes to compose yourself, washing your face and brushing your teeth in the basin, before getting dressed and leaving your room in search of the others. 

   The library is not how you left it last night, furniture has been moved to the side, and Sam and Dean stand next to a table in the middle of what looks to be a very intense discussion making you pause at the door and hide behind the wall, you decide waiting out the conversation is the best idea. 

   ‘Use the soul-sucking magic? Boy, that lady’s a peach.’ Dean’s tone of voice surprises you, and you realise this was one of the things he was trying to hide from you, his hunter side.

   ‘Listen, we talked about this.’ Sam interjects.

   ‘I know. Gotta happen. It’s the only way. Right. But I don’t like rolling the dice on some psycho ex-angel killer.’

   ‘I don’t love it, either, but taking risks, making crappy deals--that’s what we do.’

   ‘Yeah, and they usually bite us in the arse.’ You smile at Dean’s choice of words, remembering what you had said to Cas last night.

   ‘So, what do you want to do about it? Leave Jack in the morgue? Burn him?’ That’s the moment you realise that they were planning to do something about Jack, to try and bring him back. You had heard snippets of conversations before, you knew that both Sam and Dean had died at least once. 

   ‘I didn’t say that.’

   ‘Because, for me, not doing this--that-- that would be like letting him die all over again.’ At Sam’s words your heart almost breaks all over again and you struggle to hold back tears. 

   ‘I want Jack back, too okay? I do. I just don’t trust Lily. Especially with my little eavesdropper.’ 

   If you hadn’t had that conversation with Dean ten minutes ago, your heart would have dropped to your stomach. You straighten your back and peek around the doorway with a small smile on your face. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt.’ 

   Dean rolls his eyes but waves you over, and you reach him the same time Cas comes up the steps looking more than stressed. 

   ‘You got a twenty on Jack?’ Dean asks, eyes pleading for a yes.

   ‘Not exactly. Angel Radio is playing a distress signal.’ 

   ‘Awesome’, He replies, letting his arms fall, surely mirroring his disappointment. 

   ‘All of Heaven’s gates are open, even the ones that Metatron closed.’

   ‘What could that mean?’ Sam asks.

   ‘I don’t know but it’s not good.’

   ‘More awesome.’ Dean says, making you reach out and grab his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

   ‘All right, well you go. We got Lily. When we’re ready, we’ll pray.’ Sam says, hoping that the solution will be enough.

   Cas shares a look with Sam and Dean before walking away and to do whatever he had to do. 

   ‘What’s going on?’ You ask, turning back to face the two Alphas.

   ‘We may have a way to bring Jack back. It’s risky, but we figured it’s worth a shot. You can hang around for now, but if I need you to leave later, you have to trust me. We’ve never done this before Y/N.’ 

   You are tempted to argue but something in Sam’s eyes makes you change your mind. He is watching you carefully, eyes wide, pleading with you to reassure Dean that you’ll listen. 

   ‘Got it, just tell me to go make myself some lunch, and I’m gone.’ As soon as you see Dean’s entire body relax you know you have made the right decision and Sam shoots you the biggest smile, to which you respond with an eye roll. It’s as if they don’t believe you can behave. 

   ‘Alright, hand me that glass bottle would ya?’ Dean gestures behind you as he moves to fiddle with some paint and a bowl on the table. 

   You pick it up, inspecting the clear liquid inside before handing it over and you and Sam watch as he pours the liquid in and stirs the paint around. He picks up the bowl and holds out a piece of paper for him to copy from and you watch in awe as Dean expertly paints a large symbol on the wooden floor. 

   ‘The instruction manual’. You had been watching Dean so closely you hadn’t heard the footsteps of another person approach the three of you and you jump away in shock as she hands an old leather-bound book to Sam. 

   ‘It’s alright Y/N,’ Sam reassures you before turning to face the older woman who you assume must be Lily gives you a questioning look before turning back to Sam. ‘Thanks. All right, we’re almost set. Just got to get one more thing. I’m gonna go grab it.’ He says, he gives you a second reassuring smile before walking off. You watch him go, as he does, he grabs Dean’s attention and nods in the direction of you and the strange woman. 

   Dean puts the bowl and brush down on the ground as he stands up and walks towards you, watching where he steps. He gives you a quick smile before addressing Lily.

   ‘You know, I think we got off to a bad start. Um, I guess I should be thanking you.’

   ‘Apology accepted.’ You frown at Lily’s response and her attitude towards your Alpha, but you stay quiet, unwilling to test any boundaries on the first day. ‘Are you going to introduce me?’ 

   ‘Uh, right. This is Y/N, my mate. Y/N, this is Lily Sunder, an old...acquaintance.’

   ‘Nice to meet you.’ You nod from your corner with a small smile, not a fan of strangers. Lily was a beta, but she gives off a weird vibe that makes you uncomfortable. 

   ‘There, you’re acquainted, great. Except, something’s been bothering me. Uh, you know, if this magic of yours is so great...why’d you stop using it? You’re letting yourself get old. You’re letting yourself die. Why? Why risk going to hell if you don’t have to? There’s something you’re not telling us.’

   You raise your eyebrows at Dean’s words and look to Lily, waiting for her answer. Is this magic too risky to use on Jack? 

   ‘When Ishim took my daughter, I swore I’d kill him, even if it meant burning my entire soul. But it didn’t. I have a sliver, a whisper of my soul left.’

   ‘And?’ Dean prompts, getting impatient.

   ‘May--my daughter, my little girl--is in heaven. And if there is still a piece of my soul...Now do you understand?’ 

   You are deep in thought when Sam comes back carrying a box filled to the brim with candles. You watch as he places them down at different points on the symbol like he had done it hundreds of times before. 

   ‘Sweetheart.’ Your head whips up at the sound of Dean calling from the other side of the room, breaking you from your thoughts. ‘Why don’t you go make yourself that lunch we talked about.’ You glance back over to Sam who’s already looking at you, one eyebrow raised, a reminder of your promise. 

   ‘I was getting hungry anyway. You know where I’ll be if you need me.’ Sending your Alpha one last long look before making your way to the kitchen. 

   You take your time, deciding to make a pasta salad, one of your favourite home-made dishes from before your parents became alcoholics. 

   Twenty minutes later, one potato salad and a cup of tea, your curiosity gets the better of you. You quietly make your way down the hallway and poke your head around the corner to see Jack sitting up on the table saying words you don’t understand, Sam and Dean standing either side of him. 

   ‘Was that my soul?’ He asks, looking up at Dean.

   ‘How do you feel?’ Dean queries, his hands hovering over Jack as if he is expecting something to go wrong. 

   ‘Good. I feel...good.’

   Sam smiles as Dean gives Jack a quick hug.

   ‘It’s good to have you back’, he says with his hand resting on Jack’s shoulder. 

   You are about to join them when you notice Lily sitting in your favourite chair, umoving.

   ‘Lily, thank you,’ Dean speaks from beside Jack. 

   ‘Yeah. Lily..’ Sam’ voice is halted when he sees Lily. 

   ‘Lily?’ Dean calls once more but there is no response. 

   ‘How about Jack and I go back to his room, I can help him get settled?’ You ask tentatively from the door. 

   The Alpha’s turn to face you faster than you thought possible. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ Sam asks, his lips twitching as he tries to hold back a smile. 

   ‘Long enough. I got bored.’ You smile at Jack who slowly turns around to meet gaze.

   Dean rolls his eyes at your excuse for leaving the kitchen but keeps his opinions to himself all the same. ‘You wanna hang out with Y/N for a bit Jack? We’ve got some clean-up to do.’

   Jack nodded, ‘I like the sound of that,’ he says getting off the table and making his way over to you on wobbly legs. 

   ‘I’ve changed my mind, why don’t we break into Dean’s room instead.’ You suggest, wagging your eyebrows at him in excitement.

   ‘Can we watch Star Wars? I like that one.’

   ‘Jack, we can watch anything you want.’

[bookandcranny]

Beatrice - Chapter Two

“We parted on difficult terms. He had some ideas that… challenged my sense of professional integrity. I told him I was out and, well, men like that don't tend to handle rejection too gracefully.

All I know of him after that point is that he ran into some health problems and was forced to step down from his position. It may seem cruel but I think the world is better off for it. Rappaccini is no more qualified to treat the human body than I am to teach a dance class.”

Students filed into the corridor, too busy rushing to their next destination to take note of the visitor as she slipped into the lecture hall. Branching off from the main room itself was a small office, and inside, a lone professor plugging attendance data and homework grades into a blocky desktop computer. Gianna waited until the last lingering students dispersed before announcing herself with a knock on the doorframe.

The professor looked up. “Well look who it is.” She adjusted her glasses and squinted at the figure before her, taking all of her in from the spots of dribbled varnish on her shoes upward. “And who is it who stands before me? Not Virgil’s little girl.”

“I actually go by Gianna these days. Or Ms Alexander if you’re feeling formal,” she said wryly, though not without affection. 

Her face broke out in a grin that deepened the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She unhooked her cane from the arm of her chair and stood. “The last time I saw you, Gianna, you were half-- no, a quarter of your height and missing your front teeth. Time is a funny thing, isn’t it.”

“You’re telling me, Dr Bagnol.”

“Call me Petra. Or Professor if you’re feeling formal.” She winked and patted her arm. “We are colleagues of a kind now, aren’t we? I think you’ve earned the privilege.”

“I don’t know about that. You’re a biochemistry teacher and I fuss around with cotton swabs.”

“Technicalities! Don’t sell yourself short. You know, your father called just recently and when he told me you were going to be working here, I thought he was going to burst a lung the way he wouldn’t stop singing your praises.”

Gianna blushed at that.

“Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t set your sights higher than our humble university. I heard you were studying in Naples for a while.”

“I guess I was feeling homesick. Then I moved back in with my parents for a while and soon it was the opposite feeling.”

“Sick of home,” she supplied. “I know the feeling. I remember being your age, never wanting to be still for a moment. I was only surprised to hear you weren’t seduced away by foreign shores.”

She shrugged. “It was never about distance, I just needed to find a place where I felt like my life could really begin. And for right now I think that’s here.” Wanting to move the subject away from herself she added, “Dad says hi, by the way. He also says you need to start answering your email more than once a year.”

“Email. A man of literature like your father should give more respect to the written word. You tell him I won’t settle for less than a hand-scribed letter, like they did in the old days. I want to smell that clean valley air he goes on about etched into the paper.”

Gianna laughed. It was reassuring to find some things never changed. Although the silver in her hair had grown more prominent, Dr Bagnol was in many ways just the same as she remembered her. She never knew exactly how she and her father had met, only that it was while they were both still students, and that Petra had been a firecracker from the start, determined to surpass the role that had been imposed on her as a disabled woman in a field that was often unwelcoming to her. Though Gianna couldn’t say she knew her very well personally, the mythos that had been handed down to her had definitely played a part in her decision to become more independent. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Petra said. “Virgil dropped some hints that I should track you down once you started working here but I told him I wouldn’t have that kind of attitude. You’re a grown woman and you don’t need nannying. However,” She picked up a tote from her desk and slung it around her shoulder. “Since you came to me, I’m free to invite you to lunch.”

“Dad wanted you to check up on me?”

“Don’t take it for a lack of faith in you. Parents worry. It’s what they do. I’m sure he just wanted you to have a familiar face to turn to, should you need it. Come to lunch with me, Gianna. We’ll catch up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to--”

“I’m just going to keep asking until you give in. You know that, right?”

She felt herself soften under her insistence. It wasn’t as if she had other plans anyway. “Yeah, alright. That sounds nice.”

Petra led the way to a little sandwich shop not far off campus and, despite Gianna’s protests, insisted on treating her. The weather was kind to them that day so they took their lunch on the patio watching the cars crawl by to the rhythm of the neverending traffic. They sat and ate and spoke of nothing in particular until, without warning, Dr Bagnol’s gaze caught on something in the distance that put a troubled frown on her face.

“What is it?” She started to turn in her seat.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly. Her voice had taken on a sharp quality that startled the young woman, but she caught herself and when she spoke again her voice was even and deliberate. “I thought I saw someone I knew. That’s all.”

Not satisfied with her answer, Gianna glanced over her shoulder. Across the street, standing motionless in front of the crosswalk, was the withered old man she had seen in the garden that first day: Beatrice’s father.

Ever since she had met her that one evening on the fire escape, Gianna had come into the habit of chatting with her almost every day. She couldn’t always guarantee she’d be home from work when Beatrice went out to tend the garden, but on the days she spied her from her window she never hesitated to climb down and visit. 

Their chats together weren’t anything especially profound; she got the impression Beatrice really just wanted a friend to keep her company while she worked and Gianna was happy to provide. Often they kept the conversation light and simple. One would ask about the other’s day, or an interesting book they read, or something they heard in the news. Then Beatrice would eventually be summoned by her father or the memory of some other chore she had to attend to inside, and they would part ways.

On the occasions Beatrice wasn’t in such a pleasant mood however, no matter the initial topic the conversation would eventually find its way back to her father. Apparently he was, as Gianna had predicted, in a bad state and sick more often than not, and while Beatrice wasn’t his sole caretaker he trusted her more than the average nurse. The old man had been a doctor before being reduced to the role of patient, and a somewhat renowned one at that. He had homeschooled his daughter and taught her everything he knew. Now she was expected to apply that knowledge by taking on the bulk of responsibility for his care.

He was frail, she said, and the state of his health could be unpredictable, so she was on constant vigil. The only time she really had to herself was when he was asleep or on a rare errand, and she spent that time for the most part in the garden, the place that gave her the greatest sense of peace. It must have been hard on her, Gianna often thought, to be in the prime of her life and chained to his bedside. She understood though. If it had been either of her parents she was sure she would have done the same. 

Knowing this also gave her some more sympathy for the old man. It painted him in a more human light, and she berated herself for ever being afraid of him in the first place. But seeing him here now, staring at her again with those scrutinous sunken eyes, resurfaced some of that initial dread. Dr Bagnol seemed to sense it too.

At the moment Beatrice’s father was wearing an unseasonal gray overcoat and carrying an old-fashioned black carpet bag. He lifted his free hand and slowly waved at Gianna, his stony features cracking with the barest attempt at a smile, which did nothing to soften his appearance. In fact, the more she looked at him the more leering the grin appeared to be.

“Don’t acknowledge him, Gianna,” said Dr Bagnol coldly.

“No, no, it’s fine. That’s just my neighbor.” She forced herself to give a friendly wave in return. 

Petra reached across the table and grabbed her hand back. “What do you mean he’s your neighbor?”

“His building is next to mine. Why?” 

She sighed shakily and gave another glance across the street. The man was beginning to shuffle away now, the retreating shape of him becoming swallowed up by the crowd of fellow pedestrians. Petra released her hand and drew in a tense breath. She steepled her fingers together over the table.

“His name is Giacoma Rappaccini. He was… I knew him, for a time. Not well. He came to me for some insight on a project of his years ago.”

“I heard he was a doctor,” Gianna offered. “You worked together?”

The professor chose her next words carefully. “Officially, he was a 'doctor of holistic and alternative medicines', before he retired that is. But he liked to dabble. Botany, chemistry, anthropology, philosophy. I knew when I met him that he was the sort of man who could spend a hundred years studying and still feel he hadn't learned enough.” She smiled ruefully. “It was a quality we shared, so I agreed to assist him.”

“Doesn't seem like you like the guy much.”

“We parted on difficult terms. He had some ideas that… challenged my sense of professional integrity. I told him I was out and, well, men like that don't tend to handle rejection too gracefully. All I know of him after that point is that he ran into some health problems and was forced to step down from his position. It may seem cruel but I think the world is better off for it. Rappaccini is no more qualified to treat the human body than I am to teach a dance class. 

"He's a brilliant intellectual, sure, but he lacks any compassion, any consideration for the value of human life outside of points of data on a chart. He never cared about helping people with his medicine; he only ever cared about pushing his own limits. I think, in the end, he must have pushed himself too far."

Gianna sat and processed that. The man did give her the creeps but in the scant few times she’d witnessed him he’d never come across as malevolent, and Beatrice clearly loved him. Even on the bad days, she only ever spoke well of him, and it was hard to believe a girl like Beatrice could exist without having had a loving upbringing. Whoever her mother was or had been surely was loved by him as well. That was enough evidence for Gianna that he couldn’t be everything Petra claimed him to be.

“You said he’s your neighbor. Has he ever spoken to you? Invited you over?”

She shook her head. “Rumor has it he’s a pretty private person, and I’m not exactly going over to borrow a cup of sugar or anything.”

Gianna opted not to mention her afternoons with his daughter.

She relaxed at that reassurance. “Good. Take my advice and stay far away from Rappaccini. Nothing good ever came from getting too chummy with that man. Now, where were we?”

They changed topics and the conversation gradually returned to safer, more pleasant territory, but Gianna couldn't stop thinking about what she had said, about the old man and about the sweet but melancholy girl who was left alone with him.

-----

Against the professor’s advice, Gianna did continue meeting with Beatrice. It hadn’t even been a question in her mind whether she would. If anything, knowing about Petra’s history with Dr Rappaccini made her all the more curious about the young woman. 

She reasoned that she was still technically acting in line with Dr Bagnol’s wishes; she hadn’t so much as glimpsed the shadow of the man since their lunch outing, and the more she spoke with Beatrice the more certain she felt that the daughter was nothing like the boogieman father Petra had described to her, however much of her telling was even accurate.

Beatrice was a sweetheart, bookish and reserved. She smothered laughs behind her hand and averted her eyes when she found herself caught in Gianna’s warm gaze. She was smart, happily listing off the latin genuses of her favorite plants and reciting lessons on phytochemicals she suddenly remembered (she might as well have been speaking latin here too, for as much as Gianna understood her) but at the same time strangely naive. 

She had a boundless love for the world, yet Gianna got the impression she’d seen very little of it. Her eyes always went wide with interest when Gianna spoke of the traveling she’d done. Gianna never thought it was all that impressive but she would gladly talk about it, would say just about anything in fact, if it would get her to pay more attention to her than her flowers for a moment. 

One time, Gianna playfully inserted a flirtatious Italian phrase into their conversation and was flustered to find Beatrice spoke it near fluently, as well as Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian…

“How many languages do you know?” she asked, stunned.

“Six,” she replied. “Not counting English. I’m thinking about trying Mandarin next, and I can read Arabic but can’t speak it. Honestly, I’m not great with the conversational stuff. I’m just good at memorizing new vocabulary and being able to understand multiple languages gives me a much wider variety of reading material.”

She spoke about her talent with words like it was a card trick she’d picked up in her spare time.

“What do you like to read about?”

That got her excited. When Beatrice got excited she found it harder to play coy or smother her emotions under a layer of cool composure, so of course Gianna tried to get her excited as often as possible.

“Everything. Anything. Father’s library is huge but it’s mostly textbooks and old scientific journals and stuff like that. Which is fine,” she added hurriedly. “I like to read those too, but what I really like to read is… romance novels.”

She confessed it like it was some deep dark secret, grinning and turning berry red beneath the brown of her skin. It occurred to Gianna quite suddenly that she was falling in love with her. 

The panic set in right away. She had been happy to have Beatrice as a friend, tamping down her attraction in order to keep spending time with her, but now it was becoming clear that the dam wouldn’t hold forever. She needed to say something, if only to keep from leading her on, if only to keep her from getting the wrong idea or, heaven forbid, the right one. 

What if she was straight? Did gay girls read romance too? Did gay girls wear their dresses long and their hair short like her? Gianna had crushed on butches, on femmes, on lipstick, chapstick, snapback, every kind of sapphic on the vast spectrum of preference and presentation, and she still couldn’t get a read on her. Beatrice seemed to be from another world, another time, somehow out of step with the rest of humanity. If she started dropping hints, she couldn’t predict if she would follow her lead or recoil in disgust and never speak to her again.

That night, Gianna had a strange dream. She might have expected she would, given how wound up she’d felt since their last discussion. The ghost of her had followed her up, back through the window of her apartment, and as she tossed and turned in bed that night she was dizzy with it.

In her dream, she found herself walking in a cathedral. As was the way with dreams, her sight was blurry and visions danced and flickered in front of her eyes before vanishing in the same instant. However even as the edges of her surroundings blurred like a bad photograph, she heard the echoing of her footsteps clearly, and felt the largeness of the air around her. There wasn’t another way to describe it, she thought, just a strange sensation of vast emptiness surrounding her, rendering her infinitely smaller by comparison. 

She was a child now, and she was at a wedding. Or could it have been a funeral? There were flowers everywhere, but dark ones with big thorns and a smell that clung to the back of her throat and watered her eyes. She reached out to touch one and.

--

next chapter

[princeindisguise]

The Heirs of Auradon: Chapter 3

Vladimir gritted his teeth to keep himself from screaming. What was Nefaria doing? They had just arrived, he and Angelika and Rizal had just seen sunlight and trees for the first time in their lives, heard the chirping of birds, seen the true colors of the sky, of the world. Was she just standing there scolding the soon-to-be High King of Auradon, when she was supposed to make him trust her?

This would get all four of them sent straight back to the isle.

This story is inspired partly by Disney’s Descendants movies, but most of the names, ideas, clever details, and so on comes from Droo216 and his incredible Descendants AU.

Here’s the third chapter. (And here’s the prologue, the first chapter, and the second chapter.)

Chapter 3

Vladimir De Vil slept when he had to, but he never rested. Even if he’d had the time, he wouldn’t have wanted to. He wasn’t like Angelika, Rizal, or Nefaria, he thought. Magic was natural to Nefaria, problem-solving was natural to Angelika, and risk-taking was natural to Rizal. Nothing came naturally for Vladimir. He performed well in most things he did – but only because he tried so hard. If he didn’t, he would be nothing. At his core, he was nothing.

Everyone else saw it too. He could tell. Especially when they had been in the carriage to Auradon and Nefaria had told them about the first part of her plan. She had told Rizal to use his bravery, Angelika to use her intelligence – and Vladimir to use his limp.

That was how highly she thought of him.

As he unpacked, he looked out the window at the sun that had almost completely set. He could see the isle. The thoughts were flowing through his head in a rapid speed. He thought about everyone he’d been in love with, and everyone who’d been in love with him. He thought about how hard his mother had fought to make a name for herself on the isle. He had always been proud. Proud of who he was, where he came from, what he did, his ability to get most of the things he wanted and to make his mother proud.

He thought about how she had started to seem sick these past few months. How he for the first time in a long time had seen Maleficent and seen something similar in her. He thought about how much he, Angelika, Rizal, and Nefaria needed to succeed. How they needed to get their parents out of that prison they were trapped in.

And he thought about how small that world had been. The isle where he’d been born and never left. He watched the golden coat he had worn while walking the carpet into the castle, on the ball, the dinner after, and he thought about the golden cloak the crown prince had worn. Now, when Vladimir took a close look at his own coat, he felt a sting of shame.

Compared to prince Beau, he not only was nothing – he had nothing.

Gold. That’s what Vladimir wanted. Money, power, beauty… He thought about everything he wanted, and how it, for the first time in his life, might be close enough for him to reach. Nefaria’s plan was alright – if all continued to go well, it would at least guarantee their staying there until the coronation. However, Vladimir didn’t believe they could ever make the inhabitants or the soon-to-be king trust them enough so they would be able to get the wand without a plan. Maybe they could find someone, someone who worked at the castle, and make that person work with them. Maybe they could create some sort of smoke grenade, or do something else that would make sure they couldn’t be seen, or just couldn’t be stopped. Something the Auradons weren’t expecting, whatever that might be.  

And what about the summit? He had no idea what it would be like.

As he continued unpacking, he watched Rizal, who had thrown himself on the bed the first thing he did, and fallen asleep immediately, still with his clothes on. He was sleeping with his head deep into the pillow and his mouth open, saliva running down his chin. The tiredness was understandable – none of them had slept well the night before and being charming to everyone at the ball and dinner had been exhausting. But Vladimir still couldn’t see how Rizal could already be relaxed enough to give in to his tiredness.

How could Rizal want to miss their first real sunset? For the first time in Vladimir’s life, the sun slowly disappearing below the horizon didn’t color the sky different shades of grey. The sunset had been pink and orange, glowing, shining, and now it was a muted blue and purple. He took a deep breath. The air was so different here. It was like taking a sip of clear, cold water every time he inhaled. It was like realizing he had never really breathed before.

Something stopped him in his thoughts. He had lowered his gaze to the garden below, and he saw something. The blue evening light catching a white dress.

It’s Nefaria. Vladimir frowned. Who was that, with her? It wasn’t Angelika. This person was taller and walked differently than her. The light bounced off something shiny on their head.

Was it really… could it be the crown prince?

It was.

Vladimir walked along the windows, following the two with his eyes until he couldn’t see them anymore. He glanced at Rizal, but immediately decided to go on his own. While Rizal had many talents, being quiet and sneaking around wasn’t one of them. Quickly, Vladimir draped himself in a dark green, almost black coat, and went out the door.

Outside, it was even more prominent how differently it smelled here. As he walked, Vladimir smelled his shirt for the fifth time since their arrival, making sure he wasn’t carrying the smell from the isle, of dust and things rotting. For the fifth time, he was relieved to discover he smelled of nothing but soap and his discreet cinnamon perfume.

All of the scents were different now that the sun had set. The rose bushes, the stone, the water. The bushes were placed on a row along the way Nefaria and Beau walked, and Vladimir wouldn’t be seen if he hunched behind them. Silently, he caught up with the two of them, and just as silently, half-running from one rose bush to the next, he followed them as they walked. Moving so quickly made it feel like his leg was burning, but he ignored it. He had always been good at ignoring pain.

The first thing he heard Nefaria say was:

“… and I’m sorry about your father.”

“It’s fine,” Beau said. “It’s actually been a while since he passed away.”

“How long?”

“Seven months.”

“I didn’t know that. How did he die?”

“I prefer not to talk about it.”

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

”Mother said she would keep ruling alone if I felt I wasn’t ready,” he said. “But I am. I’ve always longed to be eighteen and old enough to take the throne.”

“I would have been, too,” she said, so quietly, Vladimir wasn’t sure he heard her. “If I were you.”

After a short silence, Nefaria asked Beau:

“Do you still become…” Before finishing the sentence, she lowered her voice. Vladimir held his breath and concentrated, trying to hear everything, but he couldn’t.

“No,” Beau laughed, like she had said something ridiculous. “No, they cured that three years ago, thank god.”

Nefaria didn’t say anything. Frowning, Vladimir thought about the situation. If Beau’d had an illness, that was cured three years ago, and Nefaria didn’t know – that probably meant they hadn’t met in at least three years. Why hadn’t they?

Then, he heard Nefaria take a breath, and say:

“Cured? What do you mean, ‘cured’?”

Beau seemed taken off guard, not knowing what to say.

“I mean it doesn’t happen anymore. Sebastian, Viola, and Fairy Godmother put together an elixir, and I take it once a day, so I no longer turn… I mean, I get to look like this all the time.”

Look like this? Vladimir made sure to remember that. Right now, he wasn’t sure what it might mean, but he would be, as soon he was finished listening to them and had some time to think about it.

And what would happen if the prince didn’t get his elixir? Good to know he had a weakness, Vladimir thought.

When Nefaria didn’t reply, Beau quietly said:

“What about it?”

“Nothing.” Nefaria changed the subject, swiftly and effortlessly. “Sit down with me. I’m exhausted. So much has happened in just one day.”

They sat down on a bench. As they did, the prince laughed, and said:

”You’re used to giving orders, aren’t you?”

When Nefaria replied, Vladimir could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Me? You’re the one wearing a crown.”

The prince chuckled.

“It’s actually not a crown, it’s a coronet,” he said. “It’s worn very rarely, on very special occasions.”

“Oh, really?” she said. “I’m flattered.”

“Well, I had to find some way to impress you.”

Vladimir tried to wrap his head around this. The way they talked made it clear they’d met before. Was there anything else Nefaria had never mentioned about her visits to Auradon?

She laughed. Prince Beau said:

“I’ve actually never worn a crown in my life.”

“But you will, in a month,” she said. “I’ll never wear one.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Beau said.

Hearing that seemed to surprise Nefaria almost as much as it surprised Vladimir. When she didn’t reply, the prince started to stutter and babble, like he felt embarrassed.

“I mean, I didn’t mean…” The prince tried to express himself. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded like. That I wanted you to be my… I mean…”

He cleared his throat. Although Nefaria still didn’t reply, he at least managed to make her chuckle a little.

“Besides,” he quickly added, “it’s like you are wearing a crown all the time. The horns, I mean.”

Vladimir heard the smirk in Nefaria’s voice again. She coughed a little before responding, as if trying to stop herself from laughing again.

“They look nice, don’t they?” she said. “I had them polished before coming here.”

Now it was the prince’s turn to chuckle.

“Is that so?” he said.

“I had to find some way to impress you.”

Beau was quiet for moment, then said:

“I like them.” There was something in the prince’s voice that annoyed Vladimir. It was like he felt good about himself for overlooking one of Nefaria’s flaws. “You look different, but I… You are beautiful, despite them.”

Vladimir frowned. That was not the sort of thing someone would dare tell Nefaria if they didn’t know her well – and the people who did wouldn’t say it either. She didn’t like it when people commented on her appearance. Everyone who knew her were aware of that.

And “despite them”? She definitely wouldn’t like that.

When Nefaria replied, Vladimir recognized the subtle tone of skepticism in her voice. Maybe – if it was possible – she even felt hurt.

”Do you really think so?” she said.

If he has actually hurt her feelings, he must mean a lot to her, Vladimir thought. Very interesting.

“Yes,” was the prince’s simple reply. It was hard for Vladimir to tell what he was thinking. If he had caught up on that tone in her voice. Then, he said: “Did I say something that offended you?”

So he had actually noticed. Surprising.

“Not exactly,” Nefaria said. “I just came to think about something when you told me about the elixir you take. Rosencourt’s coat of arms. I’m sure you’re familiar with it. It says, ‘Beauty Lies Within’.”

“It’s not just about what I look like,” he said. He was talking faster now, but he didn’t sound angry or upset. “It happened every single night. It itched and burned, I got no sleep…”

Nefaria replied with a voice that was mocking, almost sardonic.

“But that’s not what bothered you, was it?” she said.

“Why does it matter?” he replied.

”It doesn’t. I just came to think of it, that’s all.” Nefaria was smiling now, coldly, hurtfully – Vladimir could hear it in how her breathing changed. “Irony is my favorite kind of humor.”

Vladimir opened his mouth slightly, hardly believing what he was hearing, and fearing the worst. In the silence that followed, he took a quick look around him. The sky was dark blue. At the horizon, he saw a ship, and Tallulah briefly crossed his mind.

He turned his attention to the prince and Nefaria again when the prince finally said something.

“You want to hurt me,” prince Beau said. “I don’t see why you would want that. Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough, having to see myself as a hideous beast every single night for fifteen years? I would never hurt you like that.”

Nefaria’s voice was low, but so sharp and filled with power, Vladimir had no problem hearing her.

“That’s easy for you to say, when you’ve grown up in immense wealth and inherited a title that allows you to do anything you want,” she said. “I can think of at least ten people on the isle who would make a better ruler than you. You haven’t done a thing to deserve everything you have.” Her voice turned from angry and fast to cold and steady. “And you definitely haven’t suffered.”

Vladimir’s blood was rushing through his veins, making his face hot, and his leg was hurting worse than ever. He gritted his teeth to keep himself from screaming. What was Nefaria doing? They had just arrived, he and Angelika and Rizal had just seen sunlight and trees for the first time in their lives, heard the chirping of birds, seen the true colors of the sky, of the world. Was she just standing there scolding the soon-to-be High King of Auradon, when she was supposed to make him trust her?

This would get all four of them sent straight back to the isle. After less than one day.

Prince Beau seemed to struggle to find a reply. He was stunned.

And then, Vladimir heard his steps when he walked away from her.

For a moment, Nefaria stayed where she was, breathing shakily. She didn’t apologize. She didn’t call his name. She let him walk away.

Vladimir grinned. In the middle of his anger, he felt a strong satisfaction. This was surely not something Nefaria would want anyone to know about. She had definitely not meant to lose her temper like this, and if Angelika or Rizal found out…

He could use this against her. And he would – as soon as he knew how.

He waited until Nefaria had walked away too, and then came out from behind the bush. Soon, his eyes caught someone else interesting – prince Sebastian of Corona.

Vladimir remembered something prince Beau had said. That Sebastian had been one of the people who had made an elixir for him. It gave Vladimir an idea. From what he had heard at the ball, Sebastian was one of prince Beau’s closest friends. Maybe Nefaria’s blunder wouldn’t affect Vladimir if he could make Sebastian like him.

Besides, he would love to see the place where they kept their medicine, herbs, potions. There had to be a place like that, and as soon as he knew how to get there, he might use it to his advantage.

He grimaced and limped, more prominently than ever, up to Sebastian. Acting wasn’t necessary – it did hurt a lot more now. He forced himself to actually feel the pain, and tears immediately started filling his eyes.

When Vladimir got close enough for Sebastian to hear him coming, Sebastian turned around and smiled at him.

“Vladimir De Vil! Good evening.”

Vladimir bowed. “Your highness.”

“I already told you, you can call me Sebastian. In fact – call me Asti. Are you out for a walk all by yourself?” He looked at Vladimir’s leg, then at his pain-filled face. “Enjoying the surroundings?”

“Oh yes,” Vladimir said. “I can’t get enough of this place. It’s breathtaking. Turns out walking around like this might not have been a good idea, though.”

“Yes, it’s too bad about your leg!” The smile Sebastian gave him was so sweet and compassionate, Vladimir almost felt bad. Briefly, he noticed a feeling inside, of liking Sebastian. His childish smile, his genuine kindness. “Do you mind if I have a look? Me and Viola have been studying medicine with Fairy Godmother for a while. Maybe I could find something that helps.”

Vladimir sat down on a bench and rolled the leg of his pants up. As Sebastian carefully removed the compress Angelika had put over the wound, Vladimir said:

“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do. It’s…”

“Magical?” Sebastian filled in, as soon as he saw it. Nodding, he continued, “I can tell. It must be awfully painful.”

“It’s not that bad,” Vladimir said, making a grimace of pain straight after to make sure Sebastian wouldn’t think he meant it.

 Sebastian took Vladimir to a room in the east wing of the castle. On shelves around them were cups of powder, herbs, glass jars with dried flowers and different colored liquids inside.

Sebastian studied Vladimir’s leg, and then started looking around on the shelves.

”Viola and I has always had an interest in botany and herbalism. Especially magical flowers. One once saved our grandmother from dying.”

“That’s amazing,” Vladimir replied, as he looked around the room. When his eyes returned to Sebastian, Vladimir spoke again.

“You could ask Fairy Godmother to teach Angelika as well,” he said. “She has an interest in potions and medicine, too.”

“Really? That’s great! Do you do a lot of those things on the isle?”

“Well, yes, sometimes. We’re not that good at it, though.” Vladimir smiled modestly, almost apologetically. “Not as good as you, it seems.”

He couldn’t tell if Sebastian let the flattery get to him or not. He simply replied:

“I’m sure you’re great. “

“Too bad she couldn’t help me with my leg,” Vladimir said, pouting slightly.

“Maybe you don’t have the ingredients you need on the isle?” Sebastian said.

“No, we don’t,” Vladimir said. Shaking his head and smiling, he thought: Or at least we wouldn’t have had them, if Nefaria hadn’t been flying here regularly and stealing things like that right under your noses.

“I really admire the people of Auradon,” Vladimir softly lied. He spoke slowly, carefully, aware he might come on too strong. “You are all so hospitable and knowledgeable. Take you for example, Sebastian, helping me with my leg without hesitation.”

Vladimir looked at Sebastian, and Sebastian seemed to feel his eyes on him, because he met his gaze. Shrugged.

“I admire the people on the Isle of the Lost,” Sebastian said. “I don’t mean the ones who has committed crimes, but… you have it a lot worse than we do.”

While Sebastian kept preparing the healing potion, Vladimir kept looking around the room. His eyes landed on one of the glass jars on the shelf above the table. In it, there were some strange looking red flowers, that seemed to glow, even though they were dried.

”What are those red flowers?” he asked.

After turning around to see the flowers and then turning back to Vladimir again, Sebastian replied:

”That’s lauria. It grows wild in Fairedge. It has all sorts of uses – it can treat depression and relieve menstrual cramps, and it’s an important ingredient in most love potions, among other things.”

When the new idea came to Vladimir, he couldn’t stop his eyebrows from raising.

“Love potions?” he repeated, quietly. “Fascinating.”

Sebastian looked up from the wound, beaming.

“Isn’t it?” he said, smiling at Vladimir with his whole body. And then laughing at himself, as if he were so happy, he felt he had to apologize for it. “I love botany.”

Afterwards, Vladimir rushed as quickly as he could to wake up Rizal, and they went to Angelika and Nefaria’s room. Both Angelika and Nefaria were there.

Angelika grabbed him by the arm as soon as he and Rizal came through the door, shut it behind them, and said:

“I’m glad you’re here. Nefaria just had a private conversation with the Beast’s son.”

“What?” Rizal reduced his shout to a whisper. “How did that happen?”

When Nefaria didn’t reply, Vladimir said, smiling innocently:

“You met with the prince? How did it go?”

Nefaria didn’t look at him. Sighing and running her fingers through her hair, she mumbled:

“Fine.”

Contentment filled Vladimir. She hadn’t told Angelika about what happened. She couldn’t have. It was just as he’d thought – she wanted to hide it.

He decided to save what he’d heard for later.

“Just ‘fine’?” he said.

Angelika sighed. “She just told me she doesn’t think she could make him trust her. I disagree, though.”

“He wants to get to know you,” Vladimir said. “I saw it too. At the ball, I mean. He wants to trust you.”

“But there is no way to make him trust me enough,” Nefaria said. “And the thing is that… He’s obviously right. I’m not someone he can trust. There is no way to make him see past that, no way to make him enough of a fool to trust me.”

They were all silent for a moment. Then, Vladimir took a step forward, saying:

“There is a way.”

Finally, Nefaria looked at him.

“What?” she asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Vladimir said, slowly, enjoying being the one who had come up with it. “A love potion.”

Angelika looked at him, nodding.

“That might work,” she said. “We just need to find the place where they keep their herbs and things like that.”

“I already have,” Vladimir said, with a small, contained smile. The other three looked at him, Nefaria with irritation, Angelika with joyful surprise, and Rizal with an impressed look in his eyes. Vladimir greedily absorbed all of it.

“How?” Angelika asked.

“I’ll explain later,” Vladimir said.

Nefaria frowned.

“Does it matter, though?” she said. “We still need the recipe, and we were forced to leave all of our magic-related possessions on the isle.”

“So it’s a good thing I memorized every recipe in my potions book,” Angelika said.

They all stared at her.

“… are you kidding?” Rizal said.

Shaking her head and smiling a little, Angelika replied:

“No.”

Rizal laughed out loud. “I’m impressed!”

“All we need now is the ingredients.” Angelika turned to Nefaria, shining with excitement. She grabbed Nefaria’s folded arms and shook them a little. “And you acting a bit more like you’re thankful to be here. Even if we can get that potion down the prince’s throat, you still need to trick everyone else.”

Nefaria seemed to think about it for a second, and then nodded.

“I guess,” she said. “I guess that’s not a bad idea.”

[imaginaryelle]

Update for this role-reversal soulmates fic! Thanks very much to @morphia-writes and @laireshi for their lovely beta work and encouragement while I finished this one.

A snippet:

The days in Yiling, their travels, Wei Ying’s attention—Lan Wangji has grown incautious. Left his heart unguarded once again, as he cannot ever seem not to, with Wei Ying. He keeps his eyes on his own hands, as if watching them can prevent further transgressions. Self-restraint is a habit of body as well as of mind, and this body does not have his years of practice to draw on. Perhaps he should start wearing a forehead ribbon again, or something similar but not so recognizably Lan. Just for the reminder.

Read on tumblr:

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 |

part 11 under the cut!

*

They arrive in Yingchuan in the early evening, just as the street stalls, restaurants and inns light their lanterns, and Wei Ying insists on finding accommodations before they investigate the first of their trapped ghouls. He leads the way, watching the market with an attitude more curious than wary, but Lan Wangji catches him checking rooftops and dark corners just as often as he lets his gaze rest on a merchant’s wares. As if he’s expecting a threat around each new turn.

This is not unreasonable. From what Lan Wangji remembers the Yingchuan-Wang Sect was small but fiercely proud before the Sunshot campaign destroyed their most prominent connections to the Qishan Wens. Whatever else has happened since his death, he doubts they have forgiven Wei Ying for his very specific role in their disgrace and the ignominious death of Wang Lingjiao. Seventeen years is a long time, but a cultivator’s memory of wrongs committed is longer.

“How do you plan to approach the local sect?” he asks. Alerting the local cultivators to their presence is both customary and polite, especially as they do actually plan to night-hunt. Not doing so can only further sour relations between Yingchaun-Wang and Yiling-Wei.

“Ah.” Wei Ying hunches his shoulders, defensive. “Perhaps you could handle that part? I doubt they have anything against Liang Feihong.”

This is likely true, but it does mean that if the Sect discovers he’s working with Wei Ying their welcome in Yingchuan could wear thin quite quickly.

“I will need to learn Trace,” he says, setting those thoughts aside, and Wei Ying nods.

“Of course, of course. Let’s stop here,” he gestures at an inn that looks marginally better appointed than the first one they had passed at the town’s outskirts. “At this range, we might even get a more detailed map out of it.” To Lan Wangji’s surprise, Wei Ying dismounts just outside the stable’s gates and holds out a purse.

“Better to start now, Liang-ge,” he says with a grin as he takes Heitu’s reins. “I’ll make sure these two get properly settled. Get something on an upper floor maybe, if they have it?”

They do. Lan Wangji gets the impression, when the proprietor eagerly shows him to what is likely one of the inn’s best rooms, that Yingchuan sees little traffic from visiting cultivators or gentry. It is a likely stop for merchants making the trek between Yunmeng and Pingyang, or to any of the scattered towns to the west and north, but he suspects its popularity has waned in the wake of Qishan’s fall; traveling from Yunmeng to Lanling to Qinghe before turning fully west is likely more comfortable, and more profitable, even with the extra time required.

He orders a light meal, and tea, and sets spirit ward talismans as he walks the room’s circumference. He also opens the windows to catch the bare hint of the evening breeze. The meal is laid out and the tea gently steeping when Wei Ying lets himself in through one of those windows, saddlebags thrown over his shoulder and his smile as bright and gleeful as the one Lan Wangji remembers from their first meeting, atop Gusu’s high walls.

There is hay stuck in his hair, and Lan Wangji reaches for it without thinking. Wei Ying goes still, staring at him, until he pulls back with the long stalks in hand.

“Oh,” he says, blinking at it. “Uh. Thanks.”

Lan Wangji nods. He should probably not have done that. Whispers of memory have stalked him all afternoon—get off, get away in that cold Yiling cave mixing through the heavy realization that Wei Ying does not remember what Wangxian was. The relentless hammer of that guileless question: What’s its name?

The days in Yiling, their travels, Wei Ying’s attention—he has grown incautious. Left his heart unguarded once again, as he cannot ever seem not to, with Wei Ying. He sets the hay aside, keeping his eyes on his own hands, as if watching them can prevent further transgressions. Self-restraint is a habit of body as well as of mind, and this body does not have his years of practice to draw on. Perhaps he should start wearing a forehead ribbon again, or something similar but not so recognizably Lan. Just for the reminder.

“Trace,” Wei Ying says suddenly, louder than necessary. “You should learn Trace.”

He pulls paper and a brush and ink supplies from one of their bags, and spreads them out on another table, well away from the food.

“It’s pretty simple,” he says. “Just paper, three inks, and a talisman to make the initial connection. And the ghost, of course.”

He looks up, expectant, and Lan Wangji pulls the correct spirit pouch from his sleeve. Wei Ying reaches for it. Hooks his fingers through the dangling cords of the cinch closure, as far from Lan Wangji’s fingers as possible.

“I’ll do a containment array,” he says. “You saw Xiuying do the ink? Of course you did.” He moves quickly, almost skittering away to clear a space on the floor.

Lan Wangji turns his hands to his task. He grinds each inkstick in turn, separating the resulting inks into the little wooden dishes that seem designed for the purpose, and wiping the inkstone clean in-between. Shiny lacquer ink, dark oil-black ink, and a gray charcoal wash. Wei Ying shows him a talisman that echoes the engravings on the dishes: blood, and memory, and earth. He copies it three times under Wei Ying’s gaze.

Lan Wangji positions the dishes of ink on the paper and casts the talisman twice, watching the inks seep over each page in turn. Two maps, identical, just to be sure he can reproduce it for the Wang Sect if they need convincing.

“It’s strange, how the memory warps with distance,” Wei Ying says, studying one of the new maps closely. He has the original version spread out next to it, and there are notable differences. More definition in the new one. More dark footprints, in the market and around what was probably the spirit’s home. A spreading stain of shiny lacquer at the site of the death, a few streets away from where they sit. Wei Ying traces a blur of gray outside Yingchuan’s gates, disconnected from the trail of steps.

“I’ll look into this while you talk to the Wang Sect,” he says. “Might be where the body is. Or where it was.” He squints. “So imprecise. It might not be intact.”

“Mn.”

That would certainly influence the spirit’s level of resentment. She jerks and flickers in Wei Ying’s array, the dark lines of poison livid on her limbs and teeth.

“We should start before dark,” Lan Wangji notes. The sky is already blooming red through the windows. The Sect will likely close their gates soon, making getting an audience that much more difficult. He eyes the food for a moment, and then lays a preservation charm over it. Wei Ying has not even looked at it since he arrived, and Lan Wangji’s own task should not be delayed even for the length of a meal.

He carefully packs away the supplies for Trace, the first map, and one of the new ones. The practice blade he carries will not fool any cultivator, but holding it feels better than leaving his hands empty.

Wei Ying is still seated, studying tracks in ink.

“Wei Ying.” He looks to the array. "The Wang Sect may wish to see the spirit, also."

“Right, right, sorry.” Wei Ying turns and motions at his array, turning it to dark strands that wind around the spirit and compress it back into the pouch. “Here,” he holds it out, somewhat sheepish.

Lan Wangji, unsure what reassurance might be accepted, does not comment. He tucks the pouch into his sleeve. He hesitates—leaving Wei Ying in uncertain circumstances has not become easier with so many days of his constant presence.

“Ah, you should put on another layer!” Wei Ying darts away and pulls a roll of fabric from his pack. “Maybe this one?” He shakes out an overlayer robe, a wide-sleeved beizi in soft blue-gray linen. He leans around it and grins. “You know how Sect Leaders get about rogue cultivators they’ve never heard of. You should look more official. Successful.”

Something must show in Lan Wangji’s face. Wei Ying lets his hands fall and pouts.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, dragging out the vowels.

Lan Wangji … caves. It is only a beizi. It can’t steal any more time than his own reluctance to leave Wei Ying alone.

Wei Ying steps closer. Pulls the practice sword from his hand and sets it aside. Holds up the coat for Lan Wangji to slide his arms through.

Lan Wangji steels himself against the too-quick beat of his heart and lets Wei Ying help him into it, instead of taking it from his hands.

“You look good,” Wei Ying tells him, tugging the lapels into place. “I’d let you in in a heartbeat,” he says on a laugh. He’s beaming. Lan Wangji swallows against butterflies fluttering under his lungs and hopes his flustered feelings aren’t as obvious as the heat on his neck and ears would suggest.

Wei Ying steps back, and Lan Wangji breathes.

“Oh! And—” Wei Ying’s hands go to his waist sash, untying the pei that hangs there. “Take this,” he says, holding it out. “Just in case.”

Lan Wangji takes it. A length of black silk string tied around a simple circle of jade, with a black tassel at the end.

“If you charge it with spiritual power, it can help me find you quickly.” Wei Ying’s smile is thin, pulled tight against his teeth. “Also, it’ll get you past the wards, back home. At Yiling-Wei, I mean.”

Lan Wangji nods, and ties it to his sash. Everything he carries, or nearly, is a gift from Wei Ying, but this feels different. Yiling-Wei’s grounds are crossed with wards, too many to count. This is trust, in a circle of jade.

“Thank you.” He bows. Wei Ying waves him away impatiently.

“Stop thanking me,” he insists, exasperated. “Go, go. I’ll see you after.”

*

The Wang Sect grounds are situated at the northern end of Yingchuan, kept apart from the rush and bustle of ordinary people by high, red-stained walls and a stretch of garden that has muffled most of the noise by the time Lan Wangji reaches their central courtyard. It is easy to see, from the stretch of walls and roofs, that the Sect is still somewhat prosperous. The grounds are kept in good repair, the gardens are lush and well-drained, the buildings freshly painted. Whatever has happened over the past seventeen years, there is little sign of the hardship the Sect must have endured following the war.

The disciples who escort him from the gate keep their silence, but their disregard does not need to be expressed in words. Perhaps it would have been better to leave the training sword behind, and walk the world as Wei Ying does, with no sword at all. Perhaps it would be better to be taken as arrogant, rather than weak. But Lan Wangji is not Wei Ying, and his grip on the sheath of his borrowed blade is a comfort he sorely needs. At least they cannot know from looking that his guqin is also not a spiritual weapon. That the strongest defenses currently available to him are the core-damaging talismans from his prison, which he doesn’t dare use.

He is abruptly grateful for Wei Ying’s suggestion of the beizi. He feels exposed, in the open courtyard of gray stone with looming doorways on each side like open mouths. Another layer, and the weight of the pei against his thigh, are a comfort he did not expect.

He straightens his shoulders. His spine. Keeps his right hand tucked behind his back and summons the cool, stern control he spent so much of his childhood building. This is a test of restraint and pride, like any other. That he does not wear the forehead ribbon or bear the emblem of Gusu-Lan only makes it a truer test of character.

Wang Baihan at least has the courtesy to meet him in person rather than delegating a deputy. To offer tea, though it is inescapably obvious that the blend in Lan Wangji's cup differs from the Sect Leader’s own serving.

There is no attempt at polite niceties: Lan Wangji can claim no acquaintance, and bears no news from the larger Sects. He is here only as a supplicant, and the Wang disciples make it clear that his presence is barely tolerated.

“Speak,” Wang Baihan orders, curt and disinterested. Lan Wangji bows, but he cannot bring himself to lower his gaze as he speaks. A Sect Leader should be gracious, his brother whispers in his memory, but Wang Baihan is far from the first Sect Leader he has met who appears to think differently.

“Thank you for this audience, Wang-zongzhu” he starts, just exactly as formal as the situation requires. The customary phrasing of his request is soothing, familiar. “I wish to continue a night hunt in your territory,” he says. “I discovered a spirit, far from here, with no remains to aid in liberation—” It occurs to him, almost too late, that revealing the details of that discovery is unlikely to aid his case with these cultivators. He continues more cautiously. “A young woman, perhaps twenty years old. When Trace was cast, she appeared to have lived and died here in Yingchuan. I am investigating how she came to be moved, and if she had family who have yet to be contacted.”

He pulls the map from his sleeve and unrolls it, baring the footprints, the sketch of streets and markets, the shiny smear of death. It’s a creep of unease that keeps him from also revealing the spirit pouch, and the ghost’s continued existence.

“From the marks her spirit bore,” he says instead, “I concluded she had been poisoned.”

There is a shift among the attending disciples. Frowns. A hint of a sneer. The Sect Leader only sighs.

“If you wish to imply that I have been remiss in the duties of my territory, I promise you, you will answer for the insult.”

“That is not my intent, Wang-zongzhu,” Lan Wangji insists. He bows again, brushing aside the provocation that is surely intended. “I am only hoping to ensure her fate does not cause further restless spirits among those known to her.”

A disciple steps forward and accepts the map from his hands.

“Poisoned,” the disciple says, “and died in the city’s eastern holding cells. It might be that criminal. The Qian girl. Was she pretty?” he asks.

Lan Wangji is uncertain how to answer that; he has only seen the twisted, resentment-fueled remnant of her soul. But it seems an answer is not truly needed. Sect Leader Wang shakes his head.

“There was no hint of agitation in that girl’s spirit. We would certainly have felt her presence if there had been.”

Lan Wangji waits for some further explanation, but none seems to be intended.

“May I ask her crime?”

The disciple’s face twists.

“She killed one of my younger sect brothers, in the market. Slit his throat. A merchant’s daughter, I think, but no family claimed her.” He snorts. “Who would want to, after such a crime?”

Lan Wangji eyes him, and then the Sect Leader. They must know how ludicrous this sounds. A commoner, killing a cultivator. Slitting his throat in a busy street.

“Were they known to each other?”

“Does it matter?” The disciple shrugs. “The point is, if she has any family here they don’t care enough to hold her death against us. You can be on your way without worries.”

Lan Wangji looks to the Sect Leader, but the man is making a show of drinking his tea.

This is a dismissal. The Sect Leader’s indifference makes it clear there is no further explanation coming, nor any offer of hospitality. Lan Wangji buries the rest of his questions under the rigid control that has always been his first recourse. He wonders, briefly, how he might have been received as himself, the Second Jade of Lan, with a spiritual sword at his side and reputation to precede him. But there is no purpose in such daydreams. He makes his goodbyes with as much speed as the proper formalities will allow, and finds himself back outside the gates just as the last tint of twilight slips from the sky and night envelopes Yingchuan.

A merchant’s daughter. Who killed a cultivator. Who was executed for that crime with poison.

There is a bitter seed in Lan Wangji’s heart that remembers the disdain in the Wang disciple’s face and whispers: and what did that cultivator do to provoke such an end?

He shakes the thought away, and sets out into the dark. Wei Ying will be waiting.

*

As promised, he finds Wei Ying just beyond the city’s northern gates, inspecting the area indicated by the map’s blurred splotch of ink wash. A graveyard. He sits a little apart from the markers with his hands pressed to the earth and his eyes closed, and his face turns toward Lan Wangji as he approaches but he doesn’t stand or open his eyes.

“This is where she wanted to be buried,” he says. “Her family’s here. It was her dying wish. She would have been easy to liberate.”

Lan Wangji takes care not to step too close. He stays on the small, neatly-swept path.

“The Wang sect says she was a criminal,” he says, “executed for the murder of a cultivator.”

“Ah.” Wei Ying meets his eyes then. “To form such a strong spirit she must have felt quite wronged.”

It’s not quite a question, but Lan Wangji nods an answer anyway. There is no reason they should trust the Wang Sect’s recitation of events. For so public a murder as bloodshed in the main market, her actions are unlikely to stem from a small slight.

Wei Ying sighs. “Why not eliminate her then?”

“They said they never encountered her ghost. There was no reason to investigate further.”

Wei Ying frowns, but then the expression tightens and Lan Wangji knows they have reached the same conclusion: so strong a spirit should certainly have caused disruptions for as long as she was near those she felt had wronged her. Therefore, either the spirit had already been suppressed or, since they had found her so far afield, already been moved. Which, in turn, means whoever moved her must have known of her death almost as soon as it occurred.

“I haven’t found any physical remains.” Wei Ying stands, brushing off his hands and twitching his robes into place. “Not here or back where we found her. Shall we see if she finds them on her own?”

Lan Wangji nods and produces the spirit pouch once again. A process that might take another cultivator several talismans or an array requires only Chenqing, for Wei Ying. Lan Wangji can feel the leading, questioning edge of power he adds to his song.

The spirit wavers. Drifts. But only for a short distance. Back and forth, over the ground where she wished to be buried.

It’s a peaceful tract, sheltered from the north wind by a stand of pines and dotted with wildflowers. The graves here are well-kept. The spirit shows no obvious attempt to break free of Chenqing’s control, but no matter how Wei Ying changes his song, she does not leave that ground. Eventually, he lowers his flute and sighs.

“Perhaps her remains were destroyed,” Lan Wangji offers. It is the fate that was supposed to have awaited Wen Ning at the Jin Sect’s hands, so many years ago.

Wei Ying shrugs. “Maybe. I’d try Empathy, but that could only tell us what happened up to her death.” He frowns. “We should pacify her, right?” His gaze slides away from the spirit, to Lan Wangji. “That would be the righteous thing,” he says, clearly probing, “wouldn’t it?”

It would be. Lan Wangji has never shied from such a pacification before, and certainly not one that would so clearly be simple to accomplish. He should not hesitate now. Should not. But it is more difficult than expected, letting go of one of the handful of clues he has.

“Unless you want Zewu-jun to question her?” Wei Ying asks.

Lan Wangji nods, but it is a reluctant decision. His uncle’s admonishments echo through his bones—to prolong the suffering of another for personal gain is anathema—but Wei Ying is already summoning the spirit to its pouch and turning away.

“I can use Empathy then too,” he says. “So we know the best questions to ask.”

He bumps Lan Wangji’s shoulder with his own, warmth and solidity in the dark. An anchor to the present; here, and now.

“We should get some food into you before nine. Wouldn’t want you going hungry.” He grins in the moonlight, familiar and teasing. “Wen Qing will skin me alive if I let a patient of hers lose progress so quickly.”

He presses the spirit pouch into Lan Wangji’s hand and steps past him, close enough for a moment that Lan Wangji is tempted to stop him. To take his hand, and pull him closer. To lean into the soul bond between them until he can see truth reflected in Wei Ying’s eyes. What am I to you, he longs to ask. Why are you doing this?

Such action would be unjust, and ill repayment for the courtesy and help Wei Ying has freely offered him. He curls his hands in his sleeves, and keeps them that way all the winding walk back to the inn and their shared room. He keeps his silence through their meal. It seems the safest option, and Wei Ying does not expect him to speak while eating.

“Get some sleep, Lan Zhan,” he says after their evening meditations, settling as a shadowy silhouette by the window opposite the bed. “I promise I won’t disturb you.”

It’s the same pattern they’ve followed for all of their travels thus far, but it feels different, enclosed within four walls. The privacy screen between them as Lan Wangji changes into his sleep robes and takes down his hair is probably more concealing than their tent ever could be, but the space is bigger. It feels different.

Foolish, he tells himself as he replaces the talisman on his wrist. Foolish, as he carefully folds his robes and the beizi and lays a pale cream hair ribbon over the top of the bundle. There is no reason it should be different in any way, except that today he heard Wei Ying play Wangxian in clear sunlight, and even the certain knowledge that Wei Ying does not remember the song’s origin cannot erase sound of those notes carried on Wei Ying’s breath from his memory.

He meditates again before he sleeps, hoping the slow cycle of qi through his meridians might soothe the tangle of emotions that has taken to lodging itself in his chest, but that too, if not precisely foolish, is likely wasted effort. These thoughts, these wants have followed him through war and despair and even his own death. One more night’s contemplation is unlikely to make much difference.

Wei Ying is still at the window when he finally succumbs to sleep, a shadow against the pinprick stars that dot the sky. Familiar like nothing else he’s found in this second chance at life.

*

He’s shaken awake before five, well before dawn has begun to lighten the sky. Wei Ying’s hand is over his mouth and he freezes, uncertain what Wei Ying’s hovering presence above him means until Wei Ying grabs his hand and starts tracing characters against his palm: “ward” and “enemy” and “leave” and “now.”

Questions can come later. Now, Wei Ying leans back so he can sit up, and passes him his clothes and boots and a dark travel cloak. He leaves a piece of paper and a string of coins on a table while Lan Wangji dresses himself, and casts a talisman over them both—muffled footsteps, to guard them from even a cultivator’s senses.

They steal out the window furthest from the stables and creep over the roofs until Lan Wangji is certain there is no other human soul who might see them drop into the yard.

Another note and string of coins in the stables, another pair of talismans over Heitu and Xiaoying and they lead their mounts silently through the dark, quiet streets. Even the street cleaners are not yet making their rounds at this hour, every house and business barred against the dark.

Wei Ying does not speak until they have traveled several li beyond the city’s gates, moving northeast once more.

“It might be nothing,” he murmurs, though for whose benefit Lan Wangji cannot guess. If he truly thought the situation so harmless he would not have arranged such a secret departure, with so much power poured into staying hidden. Nor would he, as the day stretches on, release talismans to set false trails, or detour downriver for nearly an hour. There is no careless chatter all day. No music, no humor. Even their mounts seem to register the change—Heitu is restless at every stop they make, and Xiaoying is irritable. Wei Ying rides in an attitude Lan Wangji has not seen him adopt since the Sunshot Campaign ended, all sharp-eyed glances and knife-edge control. He sleeps in cat naps, jerking awake after less than half an hour’s rest and pressing onward.

The first day passes without incident. The first night. The second day.

The thing about mules is, the difference between a horse’s neigh and a donkey’s bray sounds very much like a scream. Lan Wangji jolts awake on their second night out of Yingchuan to Heitu bray-screaming at a truly painful volume as both she and Xiaoying crash through the underbrush that surrounds their small, tightly-warded camp. Wei Ying is already on his feet and outside the tent, swearing. Lan Wangji makes it outside just as he lights a talisman between his fingers, and a sword arcs out of the night towards Lan Wangji’s face.

Lan Wangji doesn’t even unsheathe his training sword as he lunges aside and raises it, scabbard and all, to block the attack. His opponent’s blade is shrouded in shadow, their face concealed by a mask. They moves swiftly, obviously accustomed to fighting in the dark, and in close quarters. Wei Ying throws a talisman that knocks them back far enough for Lan Wangji to unsheathe his blade, but then Wei Ying too is distracted by a pair of attackers who drop out of the trees, swords and faces similarly obscured.

Lan Wangji cannot watch Wei Ying and defend himself at the same time—not with a practice blade. He narrows his focus. A practice blade cannot stand up to too many direct hits from a true spiritual weapon. He must be quick, dodging rather than blocking, feinting more than attacking.

It’s no way to win a fight, but it does betray something about his attacker—they are familiar with the Lan sword form, and the Lan unarmed form as well. Lan Wangji twists under their sweeping sword and flicks a talisman against their abdomen. It is one of Wei Ying’s and makes his opponent stagger back, allows an opening: Lan Wangji brings his practice blade up in an arc to slice across his opponent's hand, but they spin away before it connects.

Lan Wangji feels a second attack coming and dives away, rolling to a new vantage. He catches a glimpse of Wei Ying, talismans ready in his hands, before his own two attackers are upon him.

He cannot keep this up for long. A few of his talismans hit, but they and the practice blade can only do so much, his spiritual energy is so low—Chenqing sounds behind him, a seeking, coaxing string of notes that visibly startles Lan Wangji’s opponents. One swears, a startled if muffled exclamation that unmistakably contains the phrase, “Yiling Laozu.” The other—the one more familiar with Lan forms—calls for a retreat even while redoubling the attack on Lan Wangji.

There are screams to Lan Wangji’s left as a bright line of pain draws itself across his ribs; a slash he couldn’t quite fully avoid. Another scream to his right. A corpse reaches out of the dark and grasps at his first attacker’s mask.

Lan Wangji and his opponent both jump back. The one who called the retreat grabs his fellow’s arm and then, with the distinctive flash of a transportation talisman, they’re gone.

At least, the ones Lan Wangji faced are gone. The two who faced Wei Ying are unmistakably dead—one by what looks like a combination of talisman damage and the strength of a fierce corpse, and one to what looks like a talisman and trampling. Xiaoying is still worrying the body and snorting, and Heitu paces along the edge of the ward behind her, nickering softly. Lan Wangji should not be surprised they haven’t stampeded into the night. Both were trained for night hunting, after all.

He finds Wei Ying still standing with Chenqing in his hands. For a moment, they just look at each other, across the camp.

“Alright?” Wei Ying asks.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees. His wound is bleeding, but is not serious enough to impede his movements. It can wait. “And Wei Ying?” he asks.

“Fine, fine,” Wei Ying waves his hands, dismissive. “I’ll see to the mules, shall I? You want to check over the bodies?”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji agrees.

Wei Ying approaches Xiaoying slowly, with a calm litany of soothing words, and manages to coax her away from the body and pet her until only the sweep of her tail betrays her restlessness. He checks both her and Heitu over for injury by candlelight while Lan Wangji lights his own candle, approaches their dead attackers and removes their masks. Two men, blood on their faces from the combined injuries they took. Dark robes. No particularly identifying features between them. Their swords are similarly unfamiliar. He examines the contents of their sleeves: A compass that points to the fierce corpse that still lingers nearby no matter how Lan Wangji moves it. A small knife. A few coins. A slip of paper, undecipherable even by candlelight. Encoded. Nothing he can use to identify them.

Wei Ying joins him.

“This is one of mine,” he says, picking up the compass. “Compass of evil. Points at malevolent energies. One of the older versions, but we sell them to anyone.” He nods at their attackers. “Anyone you recognize?” he asks.

“No,” Lan Wangji admits. Pain is making itself more intimately known as adrenaline fades. The wound over his ribs burns.

“Me either.” Wei Ying is frowning. “And that other one definitely seemed like their leader, and he was definitely more interested in you which is—you’re hurt.”

Lan Wangji looks down at himself. Blood has soaked into the clean-sliced edges of his hanfu over the wound. He wants to say, It’s nothing, but that’s habit speaking. In his first life, it would already be healing, the bleeding slowed to nothing. This new body and still-healing core are not so quick to recover.

In his first life, memory insists, he would not have taken such a strike at all.

“Sit down,” Wei Ying urges him. “Come on, sit, I’ll get the med bag, Wen Qing always packs one.” He guides Lan Wangji to the tent and pushes him to sit on a cushion of blankets with gentle touches at his elbow, his shoulder, his wrist.

“Why did you say you weren’t hurt,” he scolds as he digs through a saddle bag. “I asked if you were hurt—”

“It is not serious,” Lan Wangji protests, but less strongly than he intended. The wound stings as he breathes, and he does not wish to push Wei Ying away as he leans close to inspect it. He is tired, having slept little more than Wei Ying for two nights together now, and though he knows things are different now, that they have both changed, that he has even less reason to hope now than he did then—it feels too much like the Xuanwu’s cave, old longing mixing with the present and all his forlorn wishes that things might have been different, that Wei Ying might remember—

He doesn’t protest as Wei Ying mutters at him and tugs at his hanfu to bare his shoulder, and chest, and the wound itself. There are differences, of course. The tent is clean and softly lit rather than a dirty cave with a tiny flickering fire. Wen Qing’s ointments are cool and smooth on the cut, an almost instant relief. There are proper bandages to apply to the wound, and he wears no forehead ribbon for Wei Ying to steal and misuse. He is not so injured as to be suffering fever, for all that he feels too-warm with Wei Ying’s hands on his skin, watching wisps of his hair swing over his face as he talks.

“You’re not supposed to get hurt, Lan Zhan, you have to tell me if it happens,” he’s saying, a frown creasing between his brows and tugging at his lips. “I can’t—” he shakes his head.

Lan Wangji does not respond, too occupied with keeping his fingers curled into his palms, trying to keep his mind on the conversation and not the play of light over Wei Ying’s cheekbones. The new lines in his face, the warmth of him and the careful touch of his fingertips, so much gentler and more practiced now than five—no, eighteen years ago. Eighteen years since that cold, damp, terrible cave. Fifteen since the soul bond made itself known on Phoenix Mountain. Thirteen since Lan Wangji chose Wei Ying’s life over his own.

The soul bond hums under his skin at every touch, and Wei Ying never mentions it, never falters in his movements. But he doesn’t pull away, either, not when Lan Wangji’s hands touch his as they both reach to adjust his robes at once, not as they discuss the fight—the clear surprise from their ambushers at encountering Chenqing, the focus of the apparent leader on Lan Wangji; his knowledge of Lan forms and the lack of Wang-Sect colors. Wei Ying pulls out the notes from the compound to compare to the note found on their attacker and does not even pause when Lan Wangji leans into his shoulder to see better, too tired to restrain himself, too tired to resist his warmth any longer. Tired of waiting, and hoping, and watching himself so carefully, and it’s then that he realizes:

They have never been like this. So close. So comfortable for such a stretch of time without either distance or a harsh word sputtering between them. These days of traveling, even the music, playing together—this is not old patterns, re-trod.

This is something new.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty-three: no bones about it

Alex took his seat across the heavy wooden table from Sam and he ran his fingers through his jet black hair. When he let go of his hold there on the crown of his head, she caught a glimpse of the little gray sliver over his brow, such that it resembled to a small nugget of silver embedded within the ground. He nestled down in the chair there and she thought of that night at the restaurant when she and Cliff began to hit it off. It also helped matters that he had asked for a glass of lemonade and he huddled down in the chair there.

He was so big when he stood up and yet when he sat down, he looked like such a little boy at his parents' house.

Sam glanced over to her right as Joey took his seat about three chairs down from here, while Frank and Lars sat down in between them. She frowned at the fact she and Joey were a ways apart, but at least Alex was right there across from her. Greg and Kirk were right next to him: the two of them were right there at the very end, right next to the bay window that looked out to the grass and the stream out there. He ran his finger around the rim of the glass and some condensation gathered right there around the ice cubes. He sat across from her like a villain plotting to take over the world, especially with that prominent brow and those deep but bright eyes.

He tilted his head to the side a few times, especially whenever Lars opened his mouth for a joke.

Sam's mouth was a bit dry from the midori sour Marla had made her earlier; a little bit of ice water and a cup of coffee and the taste went away after a bit. Marla herself took her spot across the table from her and Frank; it took her a second to realize that Charlie was right next to Joey.

Alex was silent for most of the time, especially whenever someone next to them said something about anything.

At one point, he looked across the table to her with a slight raise of his eyebrows. Sam took a glimpse over at him with her lips pursed together. He gestured for her to lean in closer to him.

“This is so awkward,” he confessed.

“How so?” she asked him.

“Just with every time Joey looks over at me,” he said in a loud enough voice for her to hear him.

“Seriously?” She raised her eyebrows at him, and he nodded at her.

Lucky for them, their plates of steak and French fries were set down before them. Alex didn't hesitate to eat up those fries while they were still hot and fresh out of the frier; Sam took a glance over at Frank, who picked at his steak even though the sear on it looked perfect to her. Every so often, she peered over at Marla and Belinda, both of whom resembled to a red velvet cake with their fiery red hair and light blonde hair in that respective fashion: indeed, Lars did mention red velvet cake at one point.

Alex took a little sip of his lemonade and then he set the glass down on the table before him. He never took his hand off of the base of the glass as he flashed Sam another glance across the table. He then gestured for her to come closer to him again.

“I just realized something,” he started.

“What's that?”

“This is literally the first time I've been around you for a long time,” he noted, to which she hesitated for a minute.

“Yeah, it is,” she said with a nod. “Are you still nervous around me?”

“Kinda. I'm a little better, though, but—I just look over at Joey, though.”

“Let's wait 'til after dinner, we'll talk about it some more,” she suggested, and he nodded at that. They dug into their small cuts of steak in unison: cooked to medium rare, just how Sam liked it. Every so often, she took a glimpse up at him and his never switching his fork over to his other hand before he took another bite. He always cut them up into small cubes the size of his thumbnail.

“Are you leftie?” she asked him.

“Hm?” He raised his gaze up to her.

“Are you left handed?” she repeated over Belinda's laughter.

“My brother is. It just kinda rubbed off onto me. I also enjoy my meat more if I eat leftie, too.”

Frank kicked back a drink of his stout and then Lars burst out laughing at something. Greg was talking to Kirk about something. Alex leaned in closer to her once more and that time with a turn to the right so he could make sure they weren't paying attention.

“Sometimes I'll play guitar leftie,” he told her.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Like Jimi Hendrix or Paul McCartney. It's a bit of a trip to pull off, but yeah. When we played at Eindhoven earlier this year, sometimes during a solo, I would move it over to the left.”

He bowed his head a little bit and then he took another sip from his glass of lemonade.

“Did Eric tell you that we made a live album out of that show?” he asked her. “Like, through the fan club letter you got?”

“I can't remember,” she confessed.

“We are!” he declared.

“Oh, boy! So what can I expect?”

“It'll get you right into the front of the line for a copy,” he told her.

And she raised her eyebrows at that as she took another delicate little bite of steak. She then realized that she hadn't even heard their first album yet. Granted, she had sit in on that day and overheard “Over the Wall” and “Apocalyptic City” there in the studio as well as out in the open. And then there was Dan's record player, the very thing she had yet to see for herself.

If she found a copy of The Legacy as well as that live album, she wouldn't hesitate for a second to head on over to Dan's place just to play those.

“—I put those drawings out on the table out there by the front desk,” she heard Charlie tell to Frank; he then glanced past Lars for a look at her, complete with his eyebrows raised up.

“D'you hear that?” he asked her.

“I did,” Sam replied with a nod of her head and a wipe of her mouth with the cloth napkin. It wasn't a lot of food but she had had enough for the night; Metallica had paid for their dishes, and thus she stood to her feet and she looked on at Alex.

“Are you done?” she asked him.

“Oh, yeah.” He folded up his napkin and he rounded their end of the table and he met up with her.

She could only hope that Joey paid more attention to what was going on there at the table as she led Alex out of there and into the front lobby. They posted up by the far side of the room, by the front window for a better view of the inky black sky outside and the falling rain on the narrow street, and he tucked his hands into his jeans pockets.

“So, tell me—” she started. “Thoughts about Joey?”

“He's a good guy but I have my worries about him, though,” he confessed right there. “Just—how everyone treats him, especially Dave.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you see, I'm having to throw my weight around just to get Testament out there. I put a lot of work into what I do, and Eric and Chuck do, too, as do Greg and Louie. We all work hard at it. And—I'm still a kid at the end of the day. I think that might have something to do with it.”

“Like, you're taken seriously but you also aren't,” she followed along.

“Exactly! You know I'm ready to dye my hair again just to rid of this thing.”

“Why, 'cause of all that nonsense?”

“Yeah,” he confessed with a bow of his head.

“I like it,” she said with a nod, “I think it's striking, like it makes you stand out from a crowd.”

But he shrugged his shoulders regardless of that, and then he turned his head to the front desk there. She followed his gaze to those four drawings there on the table's surface.

“By the way, I didn't get a good look at those drawings,” he muttered to himself. Sam watched him hover over the four pieces of paper on the table; she felt her face grow warm as a result. She backed away from there so she wouldn't have to see his face as a result: the silver pendant Ronnie had given her earlier tinkled a little bit on the chain about her neck all the while, but she had her hope that Alex wouldn't hear her.

It made her skin crawl, the thought of receiving praise from someone whom she didn't really know. On one hand, it made no sense whatsoever to her, in that there had to be some kind of discomfort when she put her art on display for the whole world to see for themselves. But then again, the very notion of it always put her on the spot.

She bowed away from there before he could say anything to her, and she headed right back to her room for the night.

Sam woke up the next morning to the sound of the rain on the room as well as Joey and Frank's laughter across the hallway from the room. She rolled out of bed and she made her way over to the door; she didn't have a bathrobe with her, but she knew that it was just them and it wasn't like she had taken off her pajamas upon her climb into her bed. She opened the door to find that they had taken their seats down on the carpet before their room door. Frank took a glimpse up from Joey and his face lit up at the sight of her.

“Hey, 'mornin', Sam I am!” he greeted her, complete with a piece of white gum tucked in between his teeth and his tongue.

“There she is,” Joey followed up with a nod of his head so his fluffy black curls floated about as if they were made of sheer cotton.

“What's going on out here?” she asked them. Frank reached behind him for something flat on the floor. Something elongated and with wheels on one side.

“Skateboards! Plus, Joey has something to give you.”

Joey then stood to his feet and he took something pearly and white out from his snug jean pocket.

“So you know that pendant that Ronnie gave you yesterday?”

“I fell asleep with it,” she noted as she took that silver pendant in question out from under her camisole neckline.

“He gave me one, too, plus this—” He lay it upon his palm: a bracelet comprised of off white beads with small pieces of black onyx nestled in between. Right over her wrist was a button covered in small bubbles that collected together into the shape of a skull and crossbones.

“That necklace also came with this bracelet made of bones, but it doesn't really fit me, though.”

She stuck out her wrist for him and he slipped the bracelet over her hand: it fit her as if it was made just for her.

“A little bit of good luck before we go onstage in the next day,” Joey remarked.

“Thank you,” she breathed out and she put her arms around his slender waist.

“No bones about it, babe,” he assured her, and he gave a shrug of his narrow shoulders.

She then pulled back for a look at Frank, who reclined back on his right hand and showed off his body and his extended legs off to her.

“Mister Male Model,” she joked.

“Mister Male Model with a skateboard of course,” he pointed out as he picked up the skateboard next to him with his free hand.

“Where'd you even get that by the way?” Joey asked him.

“Thank the boys from Bon Jovi for this. Besides—Joey, remember earlier on the plane ride, we were talking about skateboards and stuff?”

“Vaguely.”

“Those Jersey boys fulfilled it for us.” Dan emerged from the room right then.

“Rain's stopped, Frankie,” he said, and then he glanced up at Sam.

“'Mornin', Danny,” she told him.

“Good morning, dear little Sam. Wanna join us?”

“I don't skateboard much,” she admitted.

“It's not hard,” Frank assured her as he brought his legs into a folded position. “Not hard at all.”

“Think I'll need a helmet and some elbow pads all the while? And some shoes, too?”

“We'll catch you,” Dan vowed.

“Yeah, we'll catch ya,” Joey added.

“I think I should get dressed first,” she suggested.

“Nah, you can do it like that,” Frank told her as he climbed to his feet.

“Serious, we'll catch ya,” Dan promised her as he put his arm around her upper back as the four of them headed out of there; Frank had the skateboard tucked under his arm all the way out to the sidewalk and the dark wet pavement. He set it down before the storm drain and beyond the collected rain water there. The sidewalk was as cold as ice on her bare feet, but she managed to step aboard that rough surface. A voice in the back of her mind told her to go back inside for her shoes, but she was already on the skateboard.

She held her arms out a bit so as to steady herself. Frank held onto her shoulders to help her out.

“Okay, you ready?” he asked her.

“Yeah.”

Careful not to push her down onto the pavement, he nudged her forward along the wet pavement.

“Okay, put your foot down—yeah, you should'a put your shoes on—it's alright—you can do it—one foot down and it can push you forward—”

Her bare foot on the ground and she moved along a bit more. He let his hands hover over her shoulders, that is until she skated along herself.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed as he held onto her shoulders again so he could bring her to a stop. “You got it! You did it!” He threw his arms around her and she returned the favor.

“I could do it again with my shoes on,” she told him.

“Absolutely!” She stepped off onto the wet pavement, such that it sent a chill up her bare legs and her spine.

“Sure you don't wanna ride back to the porch there?” he asked her.

“Nah—my feet are already wet,” she assured him, “it's just water, anyway.” And he nodded his head, and then he picked up the board and they walked back together.

“Alright, Joey,” Frank declared as he set it down before the porch again.

“I'm not really much of a skateboarder, though,” he confessed as Sam stood there before the door with her arms folded over her chest.

“Just do it, Joey,” Dan insisted.

“Yeah, Joe!” Frank joined in. “Let's see you try it out.”

Sam hung there off to the side as Joey held out his arms on either side of him like a crucifix. He set both feet on the body of the board as Frank and Dan pushed him forward. His black curls streamed behind his head like a bunch of streamers.

“Way cool,” she declared, but once the words left her lips, Joey almost lost his balance by the time they reached the far end of the sidewalk. He stumbled off and Frank burst out laughing.

“Easy now!” Joey cracked.

“What's going on out here?” Charlie asked from behind Sam in a broken voice; she didn't even have to look at him to know that he had just woke up.

“We're board,” she told him.

“Bored?”

“No, board. As in skateboards.”

“Sweet.” He looked down at her feet. “You're not doin' it in your bare feet are you?”

“Nah.”

The three of them returned to the porch for a round of breakfast courtesy of Metallica once again. Fresh brewed coffee and fresh toast and porridge; for a moment there at the table on the close side of the room, Sam felt genuinely British. Every so often, she peered over to the other side of the room, and where Charlie had put those drawings on display for her. Even after the feeling of being put on display herself, a part of her yearned to know how Alex felt about them. She also wondered if he knew she was the artist as she sipped on her coffee. Her feet ached a bit from being out on the wet pavement in her bare feet but it was nothing a warm bath wouldn't fix up.

“Another day of rehearsals up ahead,” Dan declared as he finished up his sourdough toast.

“We gonna be wearin' the—?” Joey asked him, and Dan nodded his head without a moment's hesitation.

“The what?” Sam followed along. He finished his toast and then downed the rest of his coffee, and he nodded back for her to follow him back to the room.

She stood at the doorway as he crouched down next to the foot of the bed closest to her and he opened his suitcase.

He took out a pair of long navy blue shorts with what appeared to be skulls and crossbones decorated all over. He showed her the back and she took another look at that fabric, at the skeletons playing golf.

“Where'd you get that?” she giggled at his shorts.

“They were given to me. Danny got some, so did Frankie—Charlie still has those bright red ones. I bet you've seen those.”

“I have!” She thought back to when he and Marla were together. “I think you and I were together when we saw them.”

“Oh, yeah, that's right. Sorry—the little hits from a Mary Jane have taken a bit of a hit on the memory.” But she shrugged at that.

“At least you're not drinking,” she pointed out.

“That's true. But anyways, neither of us are gonna turn down free stuff, be it new clothes or food for that matter.”

“Never turn down free food,” she told him.

“No way. But yeah—the four of us are gonna be wearin' those shorts for the show tomorrow night.” She recalled what Alex had said to her the night before, in how Joey had all manner of things handed to him. She wondered what exactly he meant by that.

A knock on the door caught both of their attention. Sam turned and Marla stood at the doorway with a concerned look on her face and a white china cup in one hand.

“Something happened that you guys should know about,” she told them.

“Like what?”

Sam followed her out of the room, and Marla led her back to Aurora and Emile's room, which reeked of musk and alcohol. Both of them were passed out on their queen sized bed, of which they had taken off the comforter and lay it upon the floor. Sam gaped at the sight of her best friend and her husband laying side by side on the bare bed sheet.

“Oh, my god, she's wasted,” she groaned. Marla emerged from right behind her with that cup of black tea still in hand.

“Nah, just really hungover and they both are, too, Sam,” she told her, “I guess the two of them were up late last night. James got Emile drunk after dinner with some Irish coffee and at some point last night after we fell asleep, she swiped the marshmallow vodka from that wine cellar.” And Sam shook her head at that. At least Aurora wasn't pregnant; but at the same time, this was the second time in a row she had guzzled down a bunch of booze for herself and she wound up bringing her husband into the mix as well.

“No more midori sours, I assume,” she said to Marla.

“No way,” she replied with a shake of her head. “Those bottles cost about sixteen pounds, or almost forty bucks American.”

Marla then led Sam back out to the hallway for a second. She sipped on the tea. The crown of her dyed red hair shone under the soft ceiling lights overhead all the while, such that it looked as though she had a small tiara rested upon her head.

"By the way, what'd you and Alex do after dinner last night?" she asked her in a low voice.

"Oh, we just talked for a minute. You know. Fan club stuff."

"I see. He's a good kid, isn't he?"

"Oh, yeah. I still worry about his relationship with him and Joey, though. Just how Joey reacted to him and everything..."

"Yeah, and the way Joey just picked up a guitar and started playing all because of Dave. Like, heaven forbid he gets some sound advice from a teenage kid."

"I wouldn't say that," Sam pointed out.

"Why's that?"

"Well, because Alex has that gray stripe on his head. It ages him."

"Right. But he's also still very much a teenage kid. Whereas Dave is closer to Joey's age, only by a year's worth of separation."

"Really?" Sam was stunned.

"Yeah. That's according to Lars. Joey was born October thirteenth, 1960, and Dave is September 13, 1961. So almost a year. Whereas Alex is a little guy right out of high school. Maybe Joey saw he was eighteen and got all on the defense about it..." Her voice trailed off at that.

“Hey, would you girls like some drinks later on?” Joey then called from the doorway. “Like, during the show?”

“Of course, Joey,” Sam replied, and then she stopped in her tracks when he ducked back into the room so he could change into those shorts. “Wait a minute.”

The way in which he stood still on that skateboard. The way he was so generous towards her. He was basically Ruben.

And then she thought back to what her mother said about him that night.

It all clicked right there.

“That's it!” she said in a hushed voice.

[jamaisjoons]

intro: her VI ⤑ knj | m

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you enter namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. 〞singe dad au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: single dad!namjoon x marine vet!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: some truly domestic shit

➵ 𝚊 /𝚗: hello!!!! i finally managed to finish this chapter now that my family are all gone!! so,,, here it is and i hope you enjoy!

⏤ Rewritten as of 26/02/2020

⇥Previous || Masterlist || Next

Chapter 6: School Days and Kisses

The next day, you’re woken up by something, or more someones, jumping on the bed while screaming - your pup happily yapping. You let out a small groan, trying to burrow further into the warm covers. Inhaling deeply, while sleep still has its hold on you, you breathe in the earthy, musky scent that was definitively not yours. Immediately, your eyes snap open, brain whizzing into action as you sit up promptly, the covers gathering around your belly.

“Noona! Wake up!” Taehyung giggles while he continues jumping on the bed. Jungkook jumps closer to you, flopping over your lap before smiling up at you with his bunny-esque smile. Meanwhile, Jimin stands a little to the side of the bed, smiling shyly at you. Soon, you realise that you aren’t currently in your own bed, but Namjoon’s, your heart slowing once the fear of being in an unknown environment passes. However, your cheeks heat when you realise you spent the night in Namjoon’s bed, your heart now speeding up for a different reason.

“Daddy is making breakfast, he said there’s a toothbrush for you in the bathroom. It’s the green one,” Jimin says, a small smile on his face, his feet shifting as he looks at you through his thick lashes. Your heart lurches, wanting nothing more than to grab the adorable boy and pepper him with kisses. Jimin looks at you expectantly, little brows furrowed and you nod.

“Tell daddy I’ll be down in five minutes,” you say. Taehyung and Jungkook cheer before running out of the room, already screaming for their father, Monie running after them. You quickly get out of bed and walk into the bathroom, spotting the brand new toothbrush: still in its packet. Your heart warms at Namjoon’s thoughtfulness. Swiftly, you check the time on your phone before groaning as you realise you are undoubtedly going to be late for work. You quickly send a message to your manager, explaining the situation before hastily brushing your teeth and washing your face.

When you exit the bathroom, you’re startled by Jimin’s presence. He’s sitting on the bed, legs dangling over the side as he patiently waits. When he notices your arrival, he hops off the bed before slowly approaching you. You take in a sharp breath, not wanting to make any sudden movements. Jimin is usually the last person who was happy to be in your presence alone, always needing either of his brothers or his father with you. So his sudden willingness to be alone with you throws you off. Deciding to ignore the marginally strange behaviour, you move to walk towards the bedroom door. However, you’re considerably startled by the sudden smaller hand moving into your large palm. You look to Jimin in surprise. His eyes are pressed firmly to the floor, a prominent blush on his puffy cheeks as he rests his small hand in yours. You try and resist the urge to grin, positively over the moon over this one action. Jimin had finally let you into his little world.

The two of you walk downstairs, following the sound of barking, cluttering of pots and pans and Taehyung and Jungkook’s voices. Once you get to the threshold of the kitchen, Jimin lets go of your hand, joining in the chaos that is currently the kitchen. Namjoon is standing over the kitchen island, looking down at his iPad, a mix of pure confusion and frustration etched on his face. Next to him, Taehyung and Jungkook have crawled onto one of the seats, both of them sneakily reaching for the bowl, dipping their fingers into what looks like pancake batter before licking it off while giggling to themselves as Namjoon is moderately preoccupied. Jimin walks over to them, looking between his younger brothers and father before deciding to join Jungkook and Taehyung while Rap Mon happily wags his tail, following Namjoon.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, startling Namjoon. He whips around, eyes wide. The two of you stare at each other, knowing you’re both in unfamiliar territory. His eyes leave your face, travelling down your body as his pupils dilate. Your own gaze follows his, trailing down to look at your figure. Your blush deepens when you remember you’re wearing one of his much larger t-shirts, and your panties and nothing else.

“Oh… OH! I’m so sorry! Jimin threw up on my clothes yesterday while you were away and I had nothing else to change into. I hope you don’t mind,” you quickly blurt out. Namjoon clears his throat in response, cheeks heating red while he shakes his head.

“No! It’s alright. My shirt is the least I could offer after you took care of the boys yesterday,” Namjoon hastily replies. If he’s being completely honest, he doesn’t mind at all. In fact, his mind is currently warring between wanting to wake up like this every day and moving to grab you and kiss you senselessly. The latter of which he definitely cannot do right now, considering his sons are watching both of you.

“Do you need some help?” you ask and Namjoon looks sheepish, rubbing the back of his head.

“I was trying to make pancakes for breakfast as a thank you. But it’s not really going well…” Namjoon trails off, causing you to giggle at him. Slowly, you pad over to him, taking the whisk from his hand.

“I can make pancakes. Why don’t you put the pan to heat? And try not to burn yourself,” you say pointedly, busying yourself with whisking the batter.

“Hey! This was supposed to be my way of thanking you,” Namjoon pouts and you bite your lip, suppressing a smile.

“Well, it can be my thank you to you for letting me sleep in your bed. And if you really want to, I’ll let you cook the pancakes. Deal?” you ask and Namjoon grins, dimples deepening.

“That I can do!” he replies cheerily, saluting you with a spatula in his hand. The two of you share the kitchen, laughing and giggling to yourselves as Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook run around with Rap Mon.

Once breakfast is ready, the five of you gather on the dining room table once again. You aid Namjoon in dishing out the pancakes, syrup and orange juice. Breakfast is, as usual where the boys are concerned, a chaotic affair. Somehow, Taehyung manages to miss his mouth while eating, getting pancake crumbs and syrup all over his face; Jungkook’s sticky fingers only succeed in making everything stickier and Jimin somehow manages to spill all his juice over himself. Through it all, Namjoon looks only somewhatexasperated while you’re left laughing the entire time.

“Oh fu-” Namjoon almost swears as he looks at the time.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re running late. I still need to get Jungkook and Taehyung dressed for school, find Jimin a sitter this late and then get to the studio myself. I have meetings with producers and management all day. Also, I need to drop you off at work,” Namjoon begins listing things off, tutting to himself before grumbling over how this wouldn’t be happening if he knew how to make pancakes.

“Actually, I messaged and told them I couldn’t come in today so I’m only on call. I don’t need to be anywhere unless there are any major issues with the animals or something. I figured I’d be late anyway considering I had no clothes. If you need me to, I can take the boys to school and come back to look after Jimin. I assume he can’t go back for a few days,” you say casually with a shrug. Jimin and Taehyung let out a little whine at the thought of being separated.

“I… would you mind? I hate to ask,” Namjoon says sheepishly and you tut, already standing up and gathering the plates.

“Once again I’m offering. It’s really no big deal. Hanging with Jimin would be better anyway. We can have fun, right puppy?” you ask, Jimin shyly nodding at you.

“Well that settles it! I’ll stop off at my apartment on the way to dropping them and pick up some clothes too. Also Monie’s food and stuff,” you iterate, mentally creating a list of things you’ll need to bring.

“That works. I’m going to get dressed then. Oh! I’ll throw in your clothes from yesterday in the wash,” Namjoon says with a small smile. After that, he runs upstairs to get ready for the day, leaving you with the task of cleaning up.

You walk into the kitchen, the boys following you as if you were a mother duck and they were little ducklings. Promptly, you begin to load the dishwasher, the boys helping by passing plates, causing you to smile at their politeness. The domesticity of the entire situation isn’t lost on you. The entire weekend feels as if you’d somehow been accepted into Namjoon’s little family and that the five of you were playing house, and no matter how much you try, you simply can’t shake off the feeling. The slight churning in your stomach deepens and you aren’t sure if it’s in anxiousness or eagerness.

“Noona? We have to get ready for school or we’ll be late,” Taehyung says as he tugs on the hem of Namjoon’s shirt by your knees. You break out of you little reverie, smiling down at him.

“Alright, come on then,” you say, grabbing Jungkook and Taehyung’s hand as Jimin takes Taehyung’s other hand. The four of you quickly climb the stairs and before long, you’re ushering them into their respective rooms. Luckily for you, Namjoon had already picked out their clothing, laying it on the bed. Jimin sits on his bed, pouting as he watches you dress Taehyung, Jungkook pulling on his trousers because ‘I can do it myself’. Honestly, you have no idea how to explain his sudden, random, bursts of independence.

Ten minutes later, both Jungkook and Taehyung are ready and dressed for school, their little rucksacks on their backs as they smile up at you. Jimin’s eyes are slightly shiny with tears, his lip quivering as he grips tightly onto Taehyung’s hand. Your heart goes out for them; is today one of the first times they’ve ever be separated? It doesn’t seem right. They’re a package deal: Taehyung and Jimin, Jimin and Taehyung. You just cannot have one without the other.

“Alright boys, ready?” Namjoon calls out as he pops his head in the doorway of Jimin and Taehyung’s bedroom. You turn around, smiling at him while the boys run up to him.

“Perfect. Driver Lee is here to pick me up. Do you need a ride?” Namjoon asks as he glances at his watch. You bite your lip as the domesticity of everything washes over you once again before you shake your head.

“No, I need to stop off at home and grab some clothes because I can’t exactly drop them off looking like this,” you say, gesturing towards your outfit, “besides, that would make you even later. It’s alright, I’ll drive them,” you continue and Namjoon nods before thrusting something in your arms.

“They’re a pair of shorts. I figured you couldn’t leave the house without… trousers on,” Namjoon says looking away as his cheeks colour. You feel your own face heat up, graciously accepting the article of clothing from him. Namjoon turns away, allowing you to swiftly step into the shorts. They’re much bigger on you than you expected, but they only needed to cover you till you get back home to change so you don’t mind as much.

“Alright, come on then! Before we’re all later than we are,” Namjoon says as he begins ushering you out once again. You quickly grab your keys and Rap Mon’s harness, placing the boys in the back of your car and your pup in the boot.

“Be good at school today okay boys? Daddy will come pick you up at the end,” Namjoon says, dropping kisses onto Taehyung and Jungkook’s foreheads as they nod and smile enthusiastically. “And you! Be good for ____, okay? Daddy will see you after work,” Namjoon continues, dropping a kiss on Jimin’s forehead. Jimin nods, eyes once again tearing up.

Turning to you, Namjoon smiles, “thanks for doing this. I owe you,” he says, smiling gratefully, dimples deepening, as he bends down and drops a kiss on your cheek. You startle somewhat at the unexpected action, watching as Namjoon waves to the lot of you while he gets into the car. The four of you wave him off, before you touch the spot on your cheek where he’d kissed. Biting your lip, you let out a large grin, getting in your car. Once you make sure all their seatbelts are on, you drive off towards your apartment.

Half an hour later, you find yourself outside the boys’ elementary school. Luckily, you’ve made it in time - with a few minutes still to spare. As you guide the boys out of the car, you notice the sudden stillness of the previously bustling people around you. The parents are all staring at you in wide-eyed wonder, children looking at you curiously. Your brows furrow a little before deciding to ignore them as Jungkook and Taehyung ecstatically pull you towards the school’s entrance. Stopping short, you squat down to their level, smoothing out their hair and fixing their clothing. Jimin and Taehyung are still gripping hands tightly, Jimin’s eyes tearing up as his bottom lip juts out with a quiver.

“I wanna go with Taehyungie,” Jimin whines, making your face soften.

“Jiminie, you can’t go to school today. You’re still sick and you could make the other children sick,” you gently reply. Jimin sniffles at your words, but nods - even as his pout deepens. Taehyung lets go of Jimin’s hand, only to hug his brother.

“It’s okay Jiminie! Kookie and I will go to school and then we’ll come home and play pirates,” Taehyung says cheerily. Jimin sniffles again, pulling away and rubbing his eyes before sticking out his small pinky.

“Promise?” he asks and Taehyung nods, wrapping his little finger around Jimin’s chubbier one.

“Promise!” Taehyung says, a boxy smile etched on his face and little teeth on display. Jimin nods, rubbing his tears away with his small fists before letting out a watery smile. Your heart warms at their actions. After fussing over the boys, you check your watch, only to realise it’s almost time for you to leave.

“____!” Someone calls out and you quickly turn to watch Sooyun approaching with Sungwoo, Jaewoo and Suri in tow. You wave at her as she approaches you, Sungwoo and Jaewoo already running up to Taehyung and Jimin.

“Sooyun-ssi! Hi! It’s been a while,” you greet politely with a bow.

“Please, just call me Sooyun. I see you’re dropping the boys off,” she says, her eyes twinkling.

“Yeah Jimin is sick so I’m dropping Tae and Kook off and then Jiminie and I are gonna go home,” you say with a smile. Sooyun smiles, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“Home?” she asks, eyebrow raising. You blanch, your cheeks heating.

“I mean Namjoon’s home! Not mine! Or that his home is my home!” you quickly blurt out, making her laugh at you.

“Aha, it’s okay! I hope you get better Jiminie,” Sooyun says, bending down and ruffling Jimin hair. He smiles, thanking her before shifting closer to you shyly, holding onto the material of your leggings.

“We’ll miss you at school Jimin,” Suri says, a bright toothy smile on her face. Jimin blushes, burying his head into your leg before nodding. You hear the bell ring and quickly glance towards your watch, realising you have to leave now. You watch Sooyun wave at the boys as they run off, blowing them kisses.

“Alright then, today was my day to take the children to school cause Jaebum’s got an important meeting. But I need to run or I’m gonna be late for work myself! Hopefully, I will see you around soon ____,” Sooyun says, bidding you goodbye with a bow before rushing off. You wave goodbye before turning back to the boys.

“Okay boys, be good! Daddy will pick you up,” you say as you move to leave. However, before you can fully turn, Jungkook is tugging at your leggings. You crouch down to his level again, looking at him curiously. Jungkook’s twists his left leg shyly, looking away with a pout.

“Daddy always kisses us goodbye,” Jungkook softly mumbles and you giggle at his actions. Swiftly, you gather him into your arms, tickling his sides and making him burst into laughter before pressing a kiss on his cheek.

Taehyung fists the material of your leggings by your knees, jumping up and down. “Me too! Me too!” he calls out, grinning up at you and sticking out his chubby cheeks towards you. You grin, pressing a sloppy kiss against his skin.

“There we go! Happy?” you ask them both and they nod eagerly before turning and running into the school. You watch them go, feeling a little more attached and maudlin than you should. Once they’ve completely disappeared from your view, you turn back to Jimin, who’s staring longingly at the doors Taehyung and Jungkook had just disappeared from.

“You okay puppy?” you ask, Jimin turns to you, staring up at you with sad eyes.

“Will it be long before they’re back noona?” Jimin asks with a pout and your face softens before you shake your head. You comfortingly pet his head, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“They’ll be back before you know it! But now, you get to spend time with noona and Monie,” you say, grabbing his hand and walking towards the car. Jimin climbs into the back, Monie happily wagging his tail before licking Jimin’s cheeks, causing the boy to let out a bright smile as you buckle him in.

“Jimin? You up puppy?” you ask, entering his room with a steaming bowl of dakjuk and Jimin’s antibiotics. You walk in to find Jimin sitting up in bed, Monie laying beside him as Jimin stares at Taehyung’s empty bed. Your face crumples at his clear sorrow. Placing the tray on his bedside table, you crawl into his bed beside him, practically falling off the bed from how small it is.

“Noona, are they almost home?” Jimin sniffles causing you to gather him into your arms. Jimin’s small body curls around you, burying his head in your stomach, little fists clenching your shirt.

“They’ll be home in a few hours Jiminie,” you say, patting his head soothingly. Jimin lets out a little sniffle, burying further into your stomach.

“I thought if I slept then they’d be home,” Jimin says, voice muffled by your stomach. You slump defeatedly, knowing it must be completely new for both of them to be separated from each other. Briefly, your mind wanders to Taehyung, wondering if he’s okay or if he’s missing his twin as much as Jimin’s missing him.

“It’s only a little while till they come home, puppy. Until then, let’s have some lunch yeah? Noona made dakjuk and then you can take your medicine and you’ll get better,” you say, patting his back. Jimin nods, shifting so that he’s sitting up again. You smile down at him, brushing the tears nestled within his eyelashes before reaching for the rice gruel.

You feed Jimin the porridge, spooning little mouthfuls of the gruel into his mouth, making little sound effects to try and get him to eat the entire bowl. Jimin’s eyes are trained on you the entire time, watching you feed him with idle curiosity. You can almost see the little gears in his brain moving, and from the slight downward quirk of his lips, you know he wants to ask you something. Patiently, you wait for him to gather his courage, wondering what had gotten him so interested.

“Noona?” Jimin finally calls out and you hum in response, feeding him another spoonful of his lunch.

“Do you like anyone?” Jimin asks causing you to choke on your spit. You look at him in slight terror, wondering why he’d asked you that all of a sudden. Your mind automatically flashes to Namjoon, causing you to blush.

“Maybe… do you like someone?” you ask, turning the question on him, Jimin’s face scrunching up in distaste.

“No! Girls have cooties,” Jimin quickly replies, causing you to laugh at his childlike response.

“Noona is a girl… does noona have cooties?” you ask cheekily. Jimin’s eyes widen before quickly shaking his head.

“No!”

“Well what about Yunnie-noona? Does Yunnie-noona have cooties?” you ask and once again Jimin shakes his head.

“No! Yunnie-noona and you don’t count,” Jimin recounts, making you giggle.

“What about Suri?” you question curiously. Jimin immediately blushes, looking away. Your eyes sparkle lightly, making a mental note to tell Namjoon that his son has a not so little crush on Suri.

“Suri has cooties,” Jimin whispers lowly.

“Does that mean you want to stop hanging out with her?” you ask and Jimin shakes his head for a third time.

“No, we can’t! She plays with Taehyungie, Jaewoo-ah and Sungwoo-ah and me!” Jimin says and you laugh at him, nodding sagely.

“Does that mean you like Suri and want her to be your girlfriend?” you ask, causing Jimin to blush deeper as he looks down at his covers.

“Maybe,” he pouts before suddenly looking up at you.

“Hey! I asked you first,” Jimin calls out and you exhale a breath of air in exasperation, knowing you’d been caught trying to change the topic.

“Who do you like?” Jimin asks curiously, cocking his head to the side. You bite your lip, unsure of what to say. Because really, how do you tell the six-year-old boy, who’d just asked you who you liked, that you like his father? Should you even tell him?

“Is it daddy?” Jimin follows up and once again you choke on your own spit, coughing a little before turning to him with wide-eyed horror. How did he figure that out?

“I-I-I-” you stutter before gulping as you try to calm yourself down.

“I think daddy likes you. Like how Bummie-hyung likes Yunnie-noona,” Jimin continues, the words rolling off his tongue casually, causing you to cock your head at him in interest. However, before you can ask him more about why exactly he thinks that, he’s already moving the conversation along.

“Are Taehyung and Gukkie almost home now?” Jimin asks. You turn to the clock on his bedside table, shaking your head.

“Still a little bit longer Chim,” you say, Jimin’s shoulders slumping as he pouts. You reach over for his medicine, mind still occupied with why he thinks his father likes you but not knowing how to bring it up again. More than that, however, you want to take his mind off of Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Alright come on, it’s medicine time. And then we can go watch Pokemon, okay?” you say, trying to distract him from missing his brothers. Jimin nods enthusiastically causing you to internally applaud your success of cheering him up.

Namjoon waits in the school playground, checking his watch. Taehyung and Jungkook would be out any minute now. He only has to wait a few more minutes before the bell rings, signalling the end of school. Standing up straighter, Namjoon watches as droves of children run out of the entrance, keeping an eye out for his own two sons. A couple more minutes later and he spots them both, waving and calling out their names. Taehyung and Jungkook’s eyes light up as they run towards their father.

“Daddy!” they both call out, wrapping their arms around each of his legs and grinning up at him. Taehyung lets go of him, looking around before his face falls.

“Daddy, where’s Jiminie?” Taehyung asks with a pout, as he continues looking. Namjoon’s chest tightens and he crouches down to his son’s level, taking Taehyung’s smaller hands in his.

“Jiminie is at home, tiger. You’ll see him soon, I promise,” Namjoon says and Taehyung nods, eyes tearing up in the slightest. Namjoon’s heart lurches again; he can’t even imagine how lonely Taehyung must feel after spending an entire day without his other half. He quickly ushers the boys to the car, crawling in the back with them before buckling them in.

“How was your day? What did you learn today?” Namjoon asks as the driver pulls out of the school.

“I learned about mermaids!” Taehyung grins up at him. Namjoon’s brows furrow, looking at his son curiously.

“Your class learned about mermaids today?”

“No daddy. I learned about mermaids. I don’t know what the class learned,” Taehyung replies, rolling his eyes. Namjoon laughs at his son, shaking his head before turning to Jungkook who’s staring at all the parents outside walking with their children. His eyes are trained on a mother, walking with her sons.

“Nochu? You okay buddy?” Namjoon asks, Jungkook finally breaking away. He looks at his father with large doe eyes, his head imperceptibly cocked to the side.

“Is noona our mommy?” Jungkook asks casually. Namjoon lurches, brows quirked as he looks at his son in interest.

“Why do you ask that?” Namjoon questions, more than confused at Jungkook’s sudden question.

“People from my class saw noona dropping us off,” Jungkook replies.

“Yeah! And we’ve never had a mommy take us to school so Sungwoo and Jaewoo asked us if noona was our mommy,” Taehyung butts in. Namjoon bites his lips; he hadn’t thought of that before. Usually, it’s him or one of his friends dropping the boys off. This would have the first time ever that someone other than them had dropped his children off at school. Let alone another woman.

“She’s not your mommy buddy,” Namjoon says gently, Jungkook nodding before looking away as Taehyung’s body slumps.

“Why? Would you like noona to be your mommy?” Namjoon finally gathers the courage to ask.

Without missing a beat, “Yes!” Taehyung quickly calls out, figure perking up, Namjoon’s brows rising at his enthusiasm.

“Why’s that?”

“Because she does things a mommy does. Like take care of us and hug us and kiss us goodbye. Like Yunnie-noona does for Jaewoo and Sungwoo,” Taehyung says with a bright smile. Namjoon’s chest falls significantly in his chest. He had no idea his sons were missing a mother. Why would he have? They’ve never had a mother in the first place. He’s always tried to be the best parent he could have been for them, but he should have known that they’d see other children and their mothers and that they would have gotten curious. However, this only serves to solidify his want to date and pursue a relationship with you.

“What about you Kook? Do you want noona to be your mommy?” Namjoon asks. Jungkook’s lips turn downwards in the slightest before he shakes his head.

“No!” Jungkook says, shocking Namjoon. That’s certainly unexpected.

“Why’s that?” Namjoon sputters out, unable to hide the complete surprise in his tone.

“Noona is my girlfriend,” Jungkook replies simply but assuredly. Namjoon blinks owlishly at his son, trying to process his words. Once his mind finally catches up, he cannot help the small laugh that escaped his lips.

“What if I want noona to be my girlfriend?” Namjoon asks, Jungkook frowning.

“She’s mine daddy. I saw her first,” Jungkook replies petulantly, crossing his arms. He goes quiet for a little while before looking at his father from the corner of his eye, “but if you want her that’s okay… we can share,” Jungkook continues, making Namjoon laugh again.

“No Kookie! If noona becomes daddy’s girlfriend then she can be our mommy and stay with us forever,” Taehyung interjects. Jungkook looks at his older brother with wide eyes before turning to his father so quickly Namjoon almost gets whiplash.

“Okay, daddy! You can have noona! You have to make noona your girlfriend,” Jungkook says, voice completely serious. Namjoon reels from the sudden change in Jungkook’s tone.

“So… if daddy was to ask noona to be his girlfriend, you wouldn’t mind?” Namjoon asks. As much as he wants to be with you, there’s no way he could even think about asking you out if his sons aren’t okay with it. Especially considering that they’d be affected by his decision too.

“Do you think Jimin would be okay with daddy making noona his girlfriend?” Namjoon asks and Taehyung nods enthusiastically.

“Jiminie said he likes when noona reads us bedtime stories and that she gives nice hugs, like a mommy would,” Taehyung says with a beaming smile. Namjoon smiles at his sons before nodding. Now that he had his sons’ blessings, the only thing stopping him from making you his, is himself. Butterflies bloom in his stomach as the car nears towards his home, now nervous about seeing you. Would you say yes? He sincerely hoped so.

Minutes later, the car pulls into his drive. Namjoon grabs the boys’ bag, opening the car door, he watches the two of them run up to the front door of the house. Shutting the car door, he bids the driver goodbye before turning back to his sons. Sucking in a sharp breath, he watches you answer the door, Jimin in your arms and a bright smile on your face. You place Jimin down on the ground, laughing as both he and Taehyung run to each other, hugging one another as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Namjoon watches Jungkook runs up to you, raising his arms up in a motion to pick him up. You lift him up without question, Jungkook giggling before snuggling into your shoulder, small arms wrapped around your neck.

Namjoon’s throat closes in emotion and he has to swallow thickly as he watches Taehyung and Jimin run past you. You place Jungkook back down, laughing at them as he runs back in too before turning to face Namjoon. You’re slightly taken aback by the intense gaze he’s levelled at you. You shift from foot to foot nervously, eyes trained on Namjoon as he slowly approaches you. Soon, he’s only a few inches away from you, towering over you as you look up at him.

“Hi. Welcome home,” you say hesitantly, unsure of what else to say. Namjoon’s chest constricts. It definitely feels like coming home. More than it ever has. His arms wrap around you, pulling your body into his chest. Your eyes widen at the sudden movement, arms automatically resting on his chest as you stare up at him curiously through your lashes. His eyes search over your face, looking for any sign to say you want this as much as he does. He finds it: when your eyes briefly flick to his lips before looking back into his eyes, face heated at his close proximity.

Then, before he can control himself, he’s bending down and kissing you.

a/n: OH LOOK! FINALLY!!! THINGS ARE HEATING UP AND IT’S ONLY 36K INTO THE STORY KDNR;GNE

⇥ Masterlist | Chapter 7

[stillchaoticlogic]

Stumbling: Chapter 3

Pairing: Raihan X Reader X Leon

Your life hadn’t gone exactly as you planned…

Which is why when an old rival walks into the coffee shop you work at he gives you an offer you just can’t refuse. Finally, a chance at the League. Suddenly you are thrust into the spot light and a world you thought you had left behind. Dreams aren’t always what they are cracked up to be though, especially when you find yourself the tangled up with the champion and a certain gym leader.

Has all your dreams come true?

Or is this your worst nightmare?

Read the First Chapter Here!

Read the Second Chapter Here!

**Masterlist Coming Soon!**

Dragons are a Girl’s Best Friend

*Warning: There is depictions of pokemon abuse. Nothing graphic, but you have been warned.*

As you walk out onto the Pitch, every possible emotion courses through your body. You know that this is the moment you have been waiting for. A chance at something more, something wonderful. You can’t just hear the roar of the crowd, you can feel it in your bones and you have never felt more at home than you do in this moment. With a striking rush of clarity, you know your goal. This is more than just winning. 

Your heart is in your throat as you gaze at the gym leaders before you. Each one a celebrity and powerhouse in their own right. Your eyes zero in on the innocent farmer boy’s smile of Milo. He’s the first in the line up and the only opponent that currently matters. Everyone between the two of you are just stepping stones. 

The world stops as the names of the competitors are announced and somewhere in the back of your mind you acknowledge your face is currently the size of an Wailmer on a screen bigger than your entire apartment. Perhaps it’s best to not think about that too much. 

Within a blink, the ceremony is over and you are exiting the locker room in a daze of emotions and ideas. You suddenly feel overwhelmed with the task set before you, and yet you have never been more excited in your life. Around you are mostly younger teens, fresh from the academy with a dream and more optimism than you’ve ever had in your lifetime. If nothing else your life experience will serve you well. 

You’re out the door of the stadium in a moment and you’ve taken refuge on the bench beside of the arena. You feel a vibration in your pocket and you pull your phone to see a text from Leon asking where you are. You text him back a moment later and just rest your head back, lightly bumping it against the wall before your close your eyes. 

“(Name)! There you are! What are you doing out here?” You hear Leon exclaim as he comes rushing up to you. You notice someone behind him and recognize the Dragon Trainer Raihan, otherwise known as Leon’s biggest rival. 

You roll your head towards the men and give them a slight smile, “It’s loud in there…”

“Well you best get used to the crowd cheering your name! Your first gym battle is soon!” Leon says in excitement as he plops down on the bench next to you. 

“Now I see why you’re so eager for...what did you call her? Oh yeah! ...your first rival, to battle you.”

“Why’s that?” you ask in curiosity lifting your head from the wall. 

“Because you’re so pretty,” he says with a wink and you feel your entire face heat up. 

“Wait a second are you blushing?! The Great (Name)! Blushing?” exclaims Leon in surprise. 

“Hush Leon… No one asked for your commentary… besides I just had my face on a jumbotron for the first time and I’m feeling a little embarrassed. Of course my face is red!”

“It wasn’t red when I sat down…” Leon says, “You don’t have a crush on Raihan do you?”

“And if I do?” you ask with a challenge in your eye. 

Leon’s eyes widen and he sputters for a moment as if he hadn’t been expecting you to agree, “Well…”

“You’re not jealous are you Leon?” asks Raihan. 

“What?! No!”

“Are you sure? She’s awful pretty! And from the way you talk about her…” he pauses and whistles, “she’s going to be a wildcat on the battlefield.”

“Did you just call me a wildcat?”

“Maybe? You like it?” he asks with another wink. 

You let out a chuckle at the Dragon trainer and shake your head, “I’ve had worse nicknames.”

“Like what?”

“You don’t need to know…”

“Oh now I definitely need to know!”

“When we battle, if you win, I’ll tell you otherwise it’s going to my grave.”

“Deal! Just know I have an extra reason to win now!”

“Of course… I mean by the time I get to you… you won’t stand a chance…”

He smiles, his fang like teeth prominent, “We’ll see about that…” he says with a wink.

It’s at that moment that you notice something across the walkway on the other side of the arena doors. Your eyes widen as anger courses through your body at the sight and before you can even think you’re rushing to the scene unfolding before you. You don’t stop and just throw your arm up, the whip in the teen’s hand wrapping itself around your forearm. You feel nothing but rage as you rip your arm back, pulling the whip from the hands of the surprised male and fixing him with a glare as you stand protectively over the young Jangmo-o. He’s cowering in terror from his trainer and just turns his head farther away as his trainer yelled in indignation at you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Get out my way!”

“How dare you?” your voice is deathly calm, the slight tremble of rage the only thing giving away your emotions. 

“It’s my Pokemon I can do what I want with it!”

“No, you absolutely can’t do whatever you want with it! It’s a living breathing creature, NOT a toy.”

“Get out of my way and mind your business,” he says as he takes a menacing step towards you. 

“This is my business.”

“MOVE!” he yells as he raises his fist in the air, but before he even has time to move, a hand is holding his arm back. Leon and Raihan, along with a crowd of people, are glaring at the teen. He looks nervous for the first time before he glances back at you. You pay him no mind as you turn around and bend down, cautiously approaching the baby dragon behind you. It flinches away from your touch and you feel your heart break. 

“It’s okay… I’m not going to let anything happen to you anymore…” you coo at it. 

Serenity pops out of her pokeball and approaches the dragon slowly, chirping at it as she does so. You’re not in the least bit surprised when she uses the move Life Dew on it in an attempt to make it feel better. You watch as the baby slowly turns its head to face her as she continues to chatter at it, indicating you every once in awhile. With hesitant steps the tiny dragon approaches you slowly and looks up at you, fear in its eyes. 

“I’m going to pick you up so I can take you to the Pokemon center okay? A nurse needs to look at those cuts.”

It looks away from you but lowers its head in acceptance. Your heart breaks as you pull it into your arms and turn around. Everyone is silent as they watch you carry the baby Pokemon away from them, its head buried in your chest, its breathing is erratic. You rush down the street, away from the crowd, and to the nearest Pokemon center which feels like it’s miles away. You burst through the doors and quickly explain the situation to the nurse on duty. After you hand the baby dragon over to her, you walk over to a corner and just sit, exhaustion encompassing your body. At one point, you become vaguely aware someone has handed you some food and a bottle of water, you eat it robotically and just keep your eyes on the doors hoping that at any moment you’ll hear some good news. 

You feel the moment that Leon and Raihan sit next to you, one on either side. You can feel the rage still radiating off of the two of them. 

“His trainer license has been revoked and he’s been disqualified from the competition,” says Leon in barely contained rage. 

“He’s never going to see Jango-o or his other Pokemon ever again,” growls Raihan from your other side. 

“Good… What’s going to happen to…”

You don’t get to finish your question as the light goes off and the nurse emerges with news of the pokemon. You are up in a flash and walk towards her. 

“How is…?”

“She? She’s doing just fine. She’s resting right now give her a moment and perhaps go try to see her? She seems to be relaxing a little bit despite what happened.”

“What’s going to happen to her?” you ask softly as you turn back towards the two men behind you. 

“Officially, she would go to my gym, since it’s a Dragon gym and it’s the sanctuary for Dragon types that need it,” Raihan supplies as he gets up to stand in front of you. 

“What then?”

“Well… when she’s ready she would get rehomed.”

“I see….”

“You want to keep her?”

You look up at him in shock, “What?”

“She deserves someone who is going to know her story, and you do… So who best to be with her than you?”

“I-I… Yes! If that’s what she wants…” you say with a relieved smile. 

He sends you his million dollar smile and ushers you into the room to see her. 

She’s curled up in a blanket resting, but starts the second she hears someone in the room. She whips her head around to see you standing in the doorway her scales clinking weakly. She regards you with caution as you slowly approach her, her eyes watching your every move. When you get close enough to her you just smile and speak softly to her. 

“I see that you are feeling better, that makes me so happy. Raihan just told me that… if you want… you can stay with me. You don’t have to go back to that mean boy.”

You watch as her head perks up at that and for the first time you see a spark in her eye and you hope that it’s not too late for her to be healed. You gently pick her up and cradle her in your arms. You hold her close to your body and she cuddles up against you. When you walk out, Raihan hands you her pokeball and you gaze down at it for a moment before you put it into the holder on your hip. 

“How about you head back to the inn, and I’ll pick up some take out?” Leon asks as he puts a hand on your shoulder. 

“That sound good…”

“Raihan, do you want to escort her back?”

He just nods before indicating you to follow him out the door. The trip to the inn is full of fans and reporters trying to find out what happened. What you didn’t know is that the League had roped off the center to keep the nosey media and masses out. Luckily, the inn is off limits to everyone who isn’t in the League today and other than a few curious competitors no one else really bothers you when you arrive. This, however, didn’t stop anyone from taking photos or video of the three of you. 

“You doing okay?” Raihan asks once you are both situated in your room, the baby dragon on your bed along with Serenity. The two had become fast friends and seemed to be talking up a storm. 

“Yeah… I’m just exhausted… The past 24 hours haven’t really stopped and I think the only thing I’ve really had to eat is sugar… Not doing the best at taking care of myself today…”

“What did you do? Eat cake for dinner?” he asks with a chuckle.

Your only reply is a sheepish glance over at him.

“You did, didn’t you?” he asks with a laugh. 

“Hey! It’s not my fault! I let Serenity pick what we were having!” you with say a playful smile. 

Serenity squeaks in indignation before chattering back at you. 

“No I supposed I didn’t do anything to stop it…”

She nods in satisfaction before turning back to her new friend. 

“She reminds me of Goodra when he was a Goomy.”

“Do you miss him being so tiny?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Sometimes?” he says laughing, “He liked to crawl into my lap when he was small and now sometimes he still tries to.”

“NO way!” you laugh. 

“Oh yeah… a couple hundred pounds of dragon will wake you up really fast.”

You laugh at the image of the purple dragon trying to sneak his way into Raihan’s lap on cold nights and just lose it. 

A knock on the door signifies that Leon is here with the food and your grateful when Raihan rushes to get the door for him. Leon has a literal mountain of take out and he puts the multitude of  bags on the table. 

“Leon… that’s a lot…”

“I guess I got a bit carried away… I wasn’t sure what you would want, so I got some of everything!” he says as he rubs the back of neck with a glorious smile. 

“Thanks… I think…”

“I see Jangmo-o is doing better!”

“She is! She’s probably hungry…” you mutter as you pull the containers out and begin to divy food out for the pokemon before you. They happily tuck into the food and you watch in affection at your two partners happily munching on their food. 

“What are you going to name her?” Leon asks before taking a big bite of his own food.

“I haven’t really thought about it…”

“Something strong, she’s a dragon afterall,” Raihan mutters before stealing a bite of Leon’s food. He just answers Leon’s glare with a lazy grin. 

“I’ll figure something out…” you say through a yawn.

“You need to rest, you’ve had a rough day,” says Leon.

“It’s okay…”

“No, Leon’s right, you should rest up! Especially since tomorrow you start out on your adventure. You excited?”

“I am! I still have a few things I need to stock up on before I can head out though.”

“Are you heading to the wild area?” asks Leon. 

“That’s the plan… I need to round out my team before I start hitting up the gyms. Besides the wild ares is one of the best places to catch Pokemon!”

“Any Pokemon in particular that you are hoping for?” Raihan asks. 

“I have a couple in mind!”

“Want to share with the class, princess?” 

“Don’t even try with her Raihan! She’s keeping her team a secret for some reason!” Leon is obviously still offended that you refused to tell him your line up. 

“Oh lay off! Maybe I want to surprise you!”

“Surprise us? I can think of a few good surprises…” Raihan growls out. 

You smack his arm with a laugh and he grins at you.

“Very funny Raihan…”

“You’re the only one laughing, princess…”

“What’s with this ‘princess’ all of a sudden?”

“Dragons like princesses,” he says with a shrug. 

“Well too bad I’m the farthest thing from one.”

“I highly doubt that…”

“Oh no… It’s true… I’m far more queen than I am princess,” you say with a cheshire cat grin on your face. 

The two men just shake their heads, but have a hard time disagreeing, especially after what happened today.

Notes:

Tell me what you think! What should our new babies name be? I am taking suggestions!

[fanficshiddles]

His ray of sunshine, Chapter 24

Keira, Jessica and Tilda were sunbathing together in the middle of the cabins on the green. It was another sunny day so they were making the most of it while chatting.

��Can I ask you both something… a bit… private?’ Keira asked, her cheeks already going slightly red just from the thought of what she was about to ask them.

‘Of course, you know you can ask us anything.’ Tilda said, turning onto her side and leaning up on her elbow to face her. Jessica did the same at the other side of Tilda.

‘Well… you know that Tom has claimed me now. A few times.’ She blushed harder and wasn’t able to look at them directly yet, so kept an eye on the blue sky above her instead. ‘So, it’s just that… he hasn’t knotted me yet. Says he wants to wait until my heat, because it will be easier on my body. Is that… Is that what happened with you both, too?’ Keira then turned to look at them.

Jessica was first to share. ‘I was knotted during my first time, with Michael. We were both too far gone in pleasure to realise what had happened before it was too late. It hurt a bit, because I was being stretched not only from the first time but also because of the knot. But after that, it became easier.’

‘We waited, because Idris is a big man and we both knew it would hurt a lot if we knotted during my first time. It was maybe our third or fourth time before he knotted me. But we did a lot of foreplay and used some extra lube too.’ Tilda said, happy to share with Keira.

‘So… it’s not weird for Tom wanting to wait for my heat?’ Keira asked.

‘No, I wouldn’t say so. You’re really precious to him, he won’t want to hurt you.’ Jessica smiled.

‘And he has incredible stamina and self-control, probably the most out of all the Alphas here. That’s no doubt part of why he’s such a great leader of the pack.’ Said Tilda.

‘Yeah… probably.’ Keira nodded.

‘You don’t seem so convinced?’ Tilda asked.

‘Well, I just. I don’t know. I think I want him to knot me, I just have this feeling that I want to feel him in me completely.’ She blurted out.

Tilda smiled. ‘That’s a natural instinct for an omega to feel. To want to be knotted. Tom will have strong urges to knot you, too. But he’s fighting against them because he feels it will be right and better to wait. But, perhaps speak to him and tell him you want it. Then he might change his mind.’

‘I don’t think it would take much persuasion, because the knot is the most sensitive part on an Alpha.’ Jessica said.

That gave Keira a lot to think on. She was glad she could talk to the other omegas about it, without worrying about the subject.

Keira did speak to Tom about it that night, but he was adamant he didn’t want to hurt her so was going to wait for her heat. She didn’t say anything else about it, not wanting to annoy him.

But the following day, she did want to do something for him…

She was a little nervous when she sank down on her knees on front of Tom. But she really wanted to please him. God knows he had done it for her so many times already.

Her hands were a little trembly as she started just stroking him at first, feeling him grow harder in her hands. She admired the prominent veins and also the wider part at the base of him, where his knot was.

When she trailed her fingers down the length of him and stroked around his knot, Tom let out a moan and let his head fall backwards. Keira smiled, feeling a little empowered she carried on stroking him and touching him here and there, finding where his most sensitive spots were. It definitely seemed to be around his knot.

She leaned in closer and wrapped her lips around the tip, she gave some small tentative licks at first till she got used to the taste and feel of him against her tongue. When she became braver, she took more of him into her mouth and used her tongue to swirl around him while she sucked him off.

‘Ooooh, yes. Good girl.’ Tom praised, reaching down to stroke her hair back from her face and he slid his fingers through to massage her scalp for a moment.

Keira flourished from his praise. And she found herself wanting to make him even prouder of her, so she took him as far down her throat as possible. Even though she gagged around him, she squeezed her thumb tightly to try and stop her gag reflex from kicking in too much.

Tom was surprised with how far she was taking him down, so surprised that he almost lost it completely. Especially when she took him so far in that the area where his knot was ended up in her mouth. He could feel her tongue on the underside of it, and it felt so delightful.

But then he started to swell, and he realised that wasn’t a good idea.

‘Sweetheart, pull out my knot is swelling.’ He tried to pull back but she was determined and followed him. In that short few seconds… it was too late.

His knot swelled entirely in her mouth. That’s when her eyes flew open in fear, realising her mistake. She started to panic because she couldn’t breathe and couldn’t get his cock out of her mouth. Her gagging was getting worse. It didn’t help that he was cumming too, spurting his seed down her throat, although his cock was taking up pretty much all of the space there. She was sure he was just depositing straight into her stomach. Or it certainly felt like it.

Tom stroked her hair and had to quickly snap out of it, even though it was difficult he managed to focus and calm her down.

‘Calm down, love. Breathe through your nose and relax your mouth and throat.’ He reached down and stroked the side of her neck softly.

She was panicky, but listened to her Alpha and relaxed herself as best she could. Her nostrils were flaring as she took deep breaths through her nose.

‘That’s it, good girl. Now we need to get through to the bathroom. We are going to move slowly and carefully, together. Ok?’

She glanced up at him and nodded slightly.

Tom took slow steps backwards, Keira had to crawl along on the floor with him. He was struggling to not find the sight erotic, it was difficult because he knew her jaw would be sore and she was obviously a bit distressed. He tried to think of anything else to help his knot go down as quick as possible, no matter how incredible his cock felt right now.

They reached the bathroom and Tom quickly poured a cup of cold water.

‘Now, this may hurt your teeth a bit but it’s the only thing I can think of.’ He said, regret and strain in his voice.

He poured the cup of cold water down his abdomen and over the base of his cock. He hissed when the water hit his skin, but it didn’t take the knot down enough. So he had to pour it into her mouth awkwardly from the angle. She let out a gargled whine at the coldness on her teeth.

But Tom’s knot did go down, it was only a few seconds before it was down enough for him to pull out of her mouth with a pop. Strings of his sperm and her saliva connected his cock with her lips. Then she dove for the toilet and puked up some of the water that had went down her throat, her reflexes kicking in hard.

Tom crouched down and rubbed her back, gathering her hair out of the way. ‘Are you alright? Breathe, love.’

After coughing a bit more and then flexing her jaw, she sat back on her heels and looked at Tom sheepishly.

‘Sorry… I got too carried away.’ She blushed.

Tom gently slid his fingers down the side of her face and along her jaw line. ‘Are you ok? Are you sore?’

‘It’s a little achy, but not too bad.’

‘Ohh my love. I’m sorry I didn’t pull you off quick enough. Perhaps next time we make sure that the knot only goes where it should go.’ He tapped her nose. ‘Did you mean to keep it in your mouth, Keira?’ He asked.

She looked down and nodded, not able to lie to her Alpha.

‘Oh sweetheart.’ He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, but he pulled her into his embrace.

‘I’m sorry. I… I wanted to please you, and I know that your knot is really sensitive.’ She said shyly.

Tom rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. ‘You already please me, darling. Every day. You never disappoint me. But it is flattering that you wanted to please me so much.’ He paused and sighed again. ‘You aren’t going to be happy waiting until your heat, are you?’

She leaned back a little and looked into his eyes, blushing hard. ‘I’d rather not…’ She said quietly.

Tom grinned. ‘Alright then. I will knot you. But we take our time and do it slowly.’ He purred in a seductive manner and leaned in to kiss her on the lips.

She nodded eagerly, getting excited at the mere thought. But Tom saw her wince slightly, obviously still sore.

‘Once you’ve taken some painkillers, though. I’m worried about your jaw.’ He cupped her chin gently.

‘Ok.’ She nodded in agreement.

She definitely wouldn’t be doing that again. Ever.