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Comme Les Fleurs - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Gala Summary: Left with no other options, Kylian must rehab his newly injured leg at a stranger’s home for the next month and she isn’t at all what he expects. Meanwhile, Aurèle has to deal with easily-irritated and sullen Kylian as she opens her home to him. Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: very rusty writing, some angst, brief out-of-character kylian Note: Yeahhh, so this was long overdue.

Aurie had forgotten what it felt to be engrossed with a man. The tightness of her chest and the feel of her throat closing up when things were at unease between them. It had been a while since her last relationship, and although she and Kylian hadn’t defined their terms yet, things were getting serious between them. The constant worry that would creep in after not hearing from him for a couple of hours was a sensation she hadn’t felt in a long time. She despised it.

It felt childish to feel like this. Aurie was too grown up to be feeling like a preteen girl with a crush. Plus, she had too many jobs to do.

“Aurie,” Camille repeats, snatching Aurie’s attention.

“What?” Aurie spins around, her fingers smudged in hot glue.

“Are you seriously still fussing with the sign? The dance starts in a couple of hours, at this point you are going to ruin it if you continue,” Camille says as she puts the final pieces together for the centerpieces. “Simi! Help me place the centerpieces on the tables please.”

The three of them, alongside Raphael, had spent the last three days setting up the gala and it was finally all coming together. The colors of summer, all splattered around the ballroom. Flowers wrapped around chairs and tables—Simi even had a flower crown. The glass centerpieces that were lanterns were filled with yellow chrysanthemums and twinkling lights inside. The pillars of the ballroom had been neatly wrapped in green leaves, colored flowers pinched into them seamlessly.

It was beautiful.

Aurie distracted herself from Kylian’s silence decorating the pillars the other night, having never left the nursing home until the next morning. Maria and Estrella had come into the ballroom seeking silence and there they found Aurie tediously working on a ladder to drape pastel colored curtains.

It had been a week since her window was ransacked. A week since having to have a few of Kylian’s security guards at her place—Bleu getting accustomed (and healing) to their presence—and a week since Aurie last saw Kylian.

She hated it.

Kylian had been in Paris, getting treatment from Martin, as he did whatever he was doing—Aurie was still out of the loop. Every time he called her it was the same: he’ll let her know when he has time to talk. But it was infuriating because he would call her when he barely had time to talk and there was so much to say but could never be uttered because Kylian was racing around. So why even call in the first place?!

She detested it.

Usually she was the one who sought to avoid serious conversations, but with the roles now being reversed, made her want to scream. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep also sneaking up onto her, but either way, nothing had been the same. Not since Kylian confessed that he loved her.

He wasn’t entirely silent. Throughout the day, he would send her messages such as:

I can’t wait to hold you.

I just want to be in your arms.

I miss you—so much, mon amour.

And it made Aurie all even more confused. What could possibly be occupying his time that he couldn’t even give her an hour of his time? Martin and Dr. Minic had given her their documents of his session with him last week. His temperament was a lot better, but there was also redacted information about a “couple” of stressors. Why was it redacted?! Martin’s notes about Kylian’s calf were nothing but positive progress: “Showing great progress under Aurie’s care, and on track for the first week of preseason. No international competitions.”

But then she read the next couple of lines: “Will be monitored in Paris for the next week (or so) under Martin’s care as he has many meetings in Paris. Will begin some light sessions with a ball and sprinting.”

How many meetings is too many? And why? For how long? There were endless questions that Aurie had but still could not get answers. Most were about Kylian but a few daunting ones were about her—did she do something wrong? Was his progress actually not on track?

For fucks sake.

The silence from Kylian and then vague answers from Martin were fucking awful. All of her phone calls to Martin were the same: “Aurie, don’t worry. He is doing really well. He has some things to do here so it’s better for me to take care of him so that he isn’t constantly traveling.”

And as if to make matters worse, Aurie’s mother showed up to her door the other day wondering why her window was blue. Aurie lied and said she broke it while playing with Bleu upstairs—but then Bleu came jogging towards them and Elina saw his still red gash on his snout. When she finally told her mom the truth, it was all the same thing: “He’s ruining you…you��ve come so far. You gave it all up for this job, imagine how much you’ll give up following that man.”

Aurie blinks away tears as her hands shake while dotting the last drop of glue. She presses down a green leaf onto the glue. The sign for the summer gala was now finally done, even if Camille said it looked fine an hour ago—it didn’t. But now, it was perfect. There were green leaves and pink flowers that swooped around the words: “Summer Garden Soirée.”

She leaves the sign to dry and gets up from her seat, seeing Simone and Camille arrange the last centerpiece together at the other end of the ballroom. She sneaks out of it quietly, her legs unbalanced like Bambi on ice.

Aurie’s phone buzzes a couple of times and she digs it out of her pocket and notices it’s a random number calling her. She declines the call, but then a previous message on her lock screen reads: “It’s Brice.”

She sighs, answering his next incoming call. He greets excitedly, “Hey! I’m out shopping for Kylian—uh what color is your dress?”

“My dress?” Aurie furrows her eyebrows.

“Mm-hmm,” he shuffles around, the sound of hangers sliding across the metal bar fills her ear. “For the gala.”

“Uh…” Aurie thinks. She knew the color of her dress but why did they need it? Kylian didn’t say he was coming to the gala. “What for?”

Brice chuckles, “Kylian did say you were stubborn. I need it to match his tie.”

“He isn’t coming tonight.”

Brice pauses on the other line, the sound of him moving hangers comes to a halt, “Oh. Uh—did he not get invited?”

“Brice,” Aurie pauses, utterly confused. She knows nothing about Kylian’s whereabouts. Brice knew more. She sighs deeply, “I mean…yeah he was invited but after everything that happened…I didn’t think he’d be coming.”

“Mm-hmm,” Brice repeats, the metal grinding on metal continues. “Well he said he was gonna be there tonight—”

“News to me,” Aurie mutters, and then closes her eyes and silently curses herself for letting her sarcastic remark slip out.

Brice sighs on the other side, “Aurie…it won’t always be like this…he just has a lot going on right now. I promise he’ll tell you everything when he can. This is the first time something like this has happened.”

Aurie stays quiet, now leaning against the hallway. The first time? What the hell is that supposed to mean? But it is still the same thing everyone has told her. “Yeah…”

“Hang in there,” he encourages.

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbles, desperately trying to make her voice strong. Everything about this situation was hard. This wasn’t the same Kylian she had been exposed to—and she was realizing that this is probably how he was before they met—his real self. A glimpse of what their future would be like.

And in all honesty, Aurie wasn’t strong enough for this. She couldn’t bear the silence, not when Kylian seemed to always want to seek her out. Was it because he was forced into her house, so naturally he reached towards her? If he had been in Paris this entire time, and she was visiting him, would things have been different? Or is it—

“Aurie,” Brice says softly, “the color of your dress?”

“Green, like an emerald green,” she answers quickly.

“Okay, thank you. I’ll talk to you later,” he sighs. “Take care, Aurie.”

Aurie hangs up the call as quickly as she can. She closes her eyes and leans her head against the wall. Her phone buzzes again and she audibly groans, but her heart sinks at seeing Kylian’s name pop up…and his smiling photo they took outside when they were chopping wood. His dimple is so deep and pronounced in it.

Her fingers instinctively graze her necklace, the gold daisy he gifted her now a source of comfort. But she couldn’t answer the phone. She couldn’t bring herself to press the ‘accept’ button, which only made her only feel worse. She sighs as it goes to voicemail, and then Kylian sends her a message almost immediately:

I miss you, call me when you can bébé

Aurie frowns at the message, forcing herself to send him one back:

I miss you too, I will

-

Aurie went home and napped for almost three hours and caught up on sleep she had missed the past couple of days. The window had been patched and fixed by now. Maple still slept in Kylian’s room, while Bleu seemed to be getting much calmer each day. He had been waking up to every slightest bit of noise—the security guards switching, animals rustling around, or even thunderstorms. He would whine or bark so aggressively that Aurie would have to get up and open her bedroom door so that he could go search for the problem.

She had showered and taken her dress and makeup to the nursing home. She got dressed with Maria and Estrella, the two of them filling the room with endless laughs making her forget all about her troubles. Everything seemed insignificant in their presence.

And they looked stunning. They wore matching puffy and ruffled dresses—purple and pink. Their jewelry was simple but elegant with just enough sparkle. They let Aurie do their makeup and it wasn’t like Aurie could do impeccable makeup but it was enough for the gala. Plus, it made them all laugh even more when she messed up.

With the gala set to start in half an hour, Aurie left their room and made her way towards the ballroom. The cake is decorated just as she imagined it, a traditional 3-tier light pink cake with a white border. A couple of decorative butterflies were centered on the top and down one side of it. The photo booth and drop were in a corner, different colors of greenery and flowers made the border. Instead of balloons, it was bunches of flowers that made the booth pop.

“Tatie Aurie!” Simone yells as she catches Aurie off guard. She didn’t hear the ballroom doors open. Simone comes crashing to Aurie’s dress, “The green! So pretty!”

Aurie smiles, watching Simone’s face light up as she looks up at her. Her little yellow poofy dress flowed all the way down to her sparking silver slippers. And that flower crown that Aurie made earlier, on top of Simone’s head proudly. “You look so pretty too, Simi.”

Simone blushes with a smile, “Thank you, I brought you a surprise—look!”

Aurie had been so caught up with Simone that she didn’t even notice someone else walked in behind her. She turns towards the door, and Kylian is standing there in a black tuxedo with a matching green bow tie. He wears a sloppy but nervous grin once Aurie sees him. His hands fidget with the buttons before he clasps them tightly together.

Aurie’s breath hitches, not at all anticipating to see him here. Sure, Brice had let her know, but she didn’t believe him. It was almost like she was getting used to Kylian's absence that she was no longer expecting him to show up when she searched for him. But here he was, standing at the entrance, his eyes twinkling and growing fonder with each passing second.

“I’m going to go find my mommy now,” Simone whispers, making Aurie look down at her with a hesitant but then genuine smile. Simone trots off towards Kylian, his eyes soft as he watches her skip past him and then out the door. They watch her both in silence until the door shuts.

Kylian struts towards Aurie in a few, long strides, kissing her temple and then embracing her firmly. His head fits right into her shoulder as he leans down, a shaky sigh escaping his lips. Aurie’s arms wrap around his back tightly, her head nuzzled into his chest and for the moment she doesn’t even care if makeup transfers onto his tux.

God, she had missed him so much. There was no denying it. She missed his scent, his strong and protective arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. She really didn’t want to cry right now but she can’t help it. It felt like she had been holding it all in and now she was finally able to release them. All the unanswered questions, the lack of sleep, the stress—it was all coming out at the wrong time.

Kylian hugs her tighter, his hands wrapping tightly on her lower back. “I know,” he repeats.

“Kylian,” she croaks.

He cradles the back of her head with his hand, holding her close to him. “I’m sorry, Aurèle.”

“Stop apologizing,” she mumbles, her voice trembling as she sniffles. “I’ve ruined my makeup.”

He chuckles softly, “We can fix it.”

“And your tux.”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. He closes his eyes softly. He hated seeing her like this and if his week wasn’t so fucking hectic, he wouldn’t have made her feel like this. He kisses her temple and leaves his lips pressed up against it. “I’m sorry, mon amour.”

“Just tell me what’s going on,” her voice trembles as she speaks. Kylian’s heart sinks.

He pulls his head away from her slowly, far enough to see her confused and hurt eyes. Her makeup messed up from her tears. He frowns, “Can we go somewhere more private?”

“Just tell me,” she pleads—demands.

Kylian purses his lips, glancing around at the ballroom. It was so beautiful that he momentarily got distracted with it, and he looked at all the decorations that he knew she had been working hard on. His fingers press into her lower back more firmly.

“It’s only us in here,” she waves around. He would have chuckled at her sassiness any other time but he can’t seem to find the courage to do so now.

He looks back at her, searching her eyes and his knees buckle at the sight. They’re patient, full of adoration—but hurt. Gleaming with tears of confusion, anger, and exhaustion. He sighs, “I’m moving to Madrid. It was finalized this week.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Her eyebrows raise softly and that is all the emotion she expressed. She isn’t confused or hurt…she’s…unreadable. He can��t decipher her look.

“Oh,” she says.

Kylian furrows his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue, but she never does.

A part of Aurie feels relieved, that his silence was warranted. It was a big deal. It was a huge deal. This silence was possibly just a single occurrence and most likely wouldn’t happen again. All the cryptic messages from him, Martin, Dr. Minic, and Brice—they all made sense. It all made sense. Sure, they still have much to say, but with maybe fifteen minutes until the doors opened, they couldn’t hash out everything right here.

“Okay,” she says, blowing a relieved sigh.

“Okay?”

“You want this right?”

He nods slowly, confused, “Yeah…” His hands let go of her waist and rested on his own hips. “That’s it?”

“Well we certainly can’t talk about this right now,” Aurie says. “Congratulations though, Kylian. For going to Real Madrid, I hear that’s a great team.”

Kylian chuckles, still slightly confused, “You’re being weird, but thank you.”

Aurie smiles, her hand capturing his palm as she leads him out of the ballroom. With their hands intertwined, they walk to the front of the nursing home to retrieve Aurie’s makeup bag. As they enter one of the restrooms, she locks the door.

“I’m happy for you, Kylian,” she says truthfully, “I kind of remember the whole thing about you and Madrid some years ago.” They share a small laugh. “So I’m glad it worked out.”

“But?”

“No buts.”

Aurie stands in front of the mirror and wipes her face with a makeup towel as Kylian comes behind her and slides his hands around her waist. His frontside bumps into her backside and he kisses her neck, smiling bashfully at her, “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long but I couldn’t—and still can’t—so you don’t know anything. It’s a secret.”

Aurie chuckles as she reapplies her makeup. She doesn’t put too much on this time because she knows the night might call for more tears.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he sighs heavily against her shoulder, his eyes peering up at hers in the mirror as he tucks his head into her neck. His lips graze her skin tenderly, pecking the skin before he fully rests his chin against her shoulder. His arms bring her into an actual embrace from behind. Her body flushes against his and they both share a sigh. Full of longing, more unspoken words, but for now, they are soaking in each other’s breath as if they need it to survive.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I know you didn’t mean it. I’ve missed you too.”

“If I could’ve handled that situation any better, I would’ve, chérie. I would’ve flown you with me to Madrid.”

“You went to Madrid?” she furrowed her eyebrows, a small chuckle rising out of her.

His knees buckle at the feel of her laugh against him, “Yeah.” He sighs softly. “I did, to discuss further with Florentino Pérez.”

“That is so…cool,” Aurie says, amazed. He laughs when he sees her eyes full of wonder in the mirror. “You can just get on a plane and fly.”

Kylian’s chest rumbles again with another laugh, “Why is that? Do you want to get a plane and just go away too?”

Aurie shrugs. After the week from hell she’s had, she wouldn’t mind dropping it off and forgetting all about her troubles to rest at some unknown location. Even if her main trouble was staring right back at her, it would be better than the shitty week she endured.

Kylian notices the slight drop in Aurie’s eyes and squeezes her hips firmly again. He brings his head up to kiss her cheek, languidly and chaste. “I’m really sorry, Aurèle. I’ve felt awful ever since I left that day. Had I known I wasn't going to see you for a week, I would’ve held you a little tighter that night and told you right then and there but it just happened.”

Aurie blinks away the tears, “Kylian, stop talking please. We can talk about all of this later okay? I promise. I just can’t right now—I know you didn’t mean it.”

Kylian nods slowly as he stands up straighter. His hands remain on her waist and the fleeting thought of her avoidance invades his mind. “Don’t avoid this, Aurie.”

She turns around to face him, the makeup brush stops mid-motion. “I’m not. The gala is about to start in five minutes.”

“I know, but,” he sighs, “I don’t want us to go long without talking.”

“We aren’t,” she promises again. Her voice is unwavering as she says it and he hates that he came at a bad time. Hates that his flight was delayed because if he had come the original time, they would’ve had an hour to catch up and resolve their issues.

Aurie senses the doubt on Kylian’s features and so she soothes her hand across his freshly-shaved jaw, “I’m not running away from this, Kylian.”

“Okay,” he whispers softly. He leans in to kiss the space between her brows and then kisses her lips softly.

She chuckles, “I’m almost done here.”

Kylian instinctively grins as he lets her turn around to finish her makeup. He glances at himself in the mirror to make sure his tux still appeared fine, and there was a small spot of makeup that had rubbed off from Aurie but it was unnoticeable. He adjusts his bowtie and then slips his hand onto Aurie’s back. He wants to steal every moment of her that he can, especially after experiencing how his life would be without her.

A chill runs down Kylian’s back at the possibility. The sudden realization that Aurie probably wouldn’t be coming with him to Madrid and his face stills. His eyes land on her daisy necklace as he thinks—horrifically—his life without her presence now. He’s gotten so used to her the past month that the one week away from her was enough to make him groan into the pillows at night and stare aimlessly into every empty seat. A week that felt so long—

Aurie spins around, snapping Kylian out of his thoughts, and his hand rests now against her hip.

“Let’s go,” she beams and clasps her hands with his. He swallows his emotions down harshly as he follows her. He masks his face quickly once he sees Camille and Simone, Raphael tailing the two of them.

Across the corridor, a couple of guests and their family members begin to trickle into the ballroom. Aurie leaps out of Kylian’s hand and he lets her go do her job, wistfully smiling from across the corridor. Simone chases after her happily, giggling cheerfully. Camille steals a glance at Kylian and notes how content he looks.

-

The gala proceeds as planned; Aurie camps out at the photodrop section because all the residents want a photo with her. She doesn’t mind it at all. Kylian shares his fair share of taking photos and autographs as well, even dancing with many residents who were left unimpressed with his hesitant dancing skills but they let him lead anyway. Kylian’s politeness and charm woo the residents’ families.

Kylian steals a couple of photos with Aurie and Simone at the photo booth, making silly faces with the both of them. Simone wraps her arms around both him and Aurie as he holds her up.

The dinner portion of the gala goes smoothly as planned, there is even food leftover for seconds. Kylian and Aurie sit together with Camille, Raphael, and Simi. But as the hostess Aurie is, she can barely eat or sit down. Her mind is on too many different things—the DJ, the small mishap with a bouquet on the photodrop getting loose, and making sure that everyone actually gets a plate of food. Even with the help of volunteers from the local university and staff working to make sure the event goes smoothly, Aurie has to be in the middle of it to confirm everything is good. Eventually, she sits back down at the table and Kylian encourages her to eat but her bites are small.

Later on, he dances with her to two songs—he takes count because he stepped on her heels a couple of times and he felt bad. Aurie only encouraged him though, never chastising him or getting upset. The sound of the music drowned out that he could only hear her giggles in his ear and the feel of her hands wrapped around his neck.

Even with Aurie and him separated for most of the night, it didn’t stop him from constantly stealing glances of her from across the room. His eyes would focus on anything and everything when he looked her way, such as her necklace or her smile that never failed to make his knees buckle.

Now, as Aurie takes a breather outside in the corridor of the gala, she runs into her two favorite troublemakers, Maria and Estrella.

“What are you two doing out here?” she announces with a smile, sipping on her cup of water. The two women startle and then turn around in their walkers. Their faces trying to recover after being caught red handed. Aurie’s smirk only grows. “What is it?”

Estrella laughs, her pink gown sparkling against the corridor’s lights, “We were just having a break.”

“Really?”

Maria nods, “Estrella is escaping Claude. He won’t stop talking!”

The three of them share a laugh. Aurie walks closer to them and leans against the wall, resting her head on it with a somber smile.

“What’s the matter, Aurèle?” Maria inquires, her face immediately etching with concern. Estrella follows suit and steps closer gingerly.

“Nothing,” Aurie smiles softly. “I am just thinking…tonight has gone better than I expected. Everyone looks like they are having a good time.”

“Well of course, you are always the best planner,” Maria says. “Do you remember when you organized that dinner and we ran out of sides? Many of the residents were upset and it was your first week here, but you quickly found a solution and it was perfect.”

Aurie smiles again at the memory, “Yeah, I remember.”

“Plus, Simi and the other kids make us feel young,” Estrella adds. “And that boy of yours, Kylian. He is a charmer—can work on his dancing skills though.”

Aurie snorts, “He tries.”

Estrella gives her another look, “What’s really bothering you?”

Aurie deeply exhales. “What do you guys think about Kylian?”

“He really loves you, darling,” Maria smiles. “I remember my love like that. It’s beautiful to witness.”

“I know,” Aurie says truthfully. It scares her that she knows exactly what Kylian’s love entails and how deeply it shows. Even with their week apart and their short time together, it was difficult for it all to be a cruel ruse. “But the famous part of him…the side of him that is going to Madrid. With crazy fans…harsh critics. A huge life. That side of him?”

Maria and Estrella share a look with each other. The mischievous mood of the corridor had quickly turned pensive. The ballroom’s door suddenly opens up and the three of them turn around quickly. It is just another resident making their way to the restroom. Maria says, “Do you want to go out in the garden to talk more?”

“Sure,” Aurie says softly, walking in between the two women. “You guys are great.”

Estrella chuckles, “We know you have been working hard for this. So let’s go outside so you can get a breather.”

Aurie snickers although her heart feels heavy. If she were to move to Madrid, she would miss this. She would leave this life behind. It would mean leaving the nursing home that her mother worked so hard on shaming her for working there. The coworkers and friends at the hospital and nursing home that she has made along the way, she would leave them too. Two places that drew her back to her real self, especially the home. Without this place, she would still be a physio for PSG, feeling miserable because keeping up with the workload was too much for her. Every day she felt like she was drowning. She never felt like she was underwater here, even when her first week had been so rocky and the residents were reluctant to trust her.

She memorizes the cream-colored painted walls and white tiles as they lead up to a set of doors. The night sky is in full effect, with glittering stars and a crescent moon. She smiles as she sits down. Maria and Estrella gingerly set their walkers aside and sit down on the bench on either side of her.

“Do you love him?” Maria asks.

Aurie simpers, “Yeah.” She looks at Maria, “I do…it would just be so fast. I barely met the man almost a month and some weeks ago.”

Maria chuckles, “I married my husband after three weeks of knowing him. We were married until he passed, for 57 years.”

Aurie bursts into a small laugh, “Three weeks?! That is too fast.”

“You love him though?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Would you be able to uproot your life to live with him at least?” Estrella asks. “If he really is going to Madrid like the rumors say…would you be able to do that? To try?”

Aurie freezes momentarily. Sure she was just thinking about the possibility but she hadn’t come up with an answer. It was too soon to say.

“I don’t know,” Aurie says. “I’ve left here many times and still always come back.”

“Can you imagine a life in Madrid at least?” Estrella proposes. Her hand touches where Aurie’s knee would be over her dress.

Aurie stills. Images of her in the Santiago Bernabéu appear and while the two of them seem happy, it feels empty to imagine her life without the nursing home.

Maria says, “You need to go, Aurie. If it doesn’t work out, you will always have here. You have so much life and love to give. If you don’t go for him, go for yourself. Explore Madrid. Pretend it’s a vacation if you will.”

Aurie chuckles softly, “That is absurd, Maria. This is my home.”

“You can always visit home, Aurèle,” Estrella sighs. “You don’t have to live with him immediately…like a trial run.”

Aurie snorts, “You guys, do you hear yourselves? What will happen here while I’m gone on this ‘vacation’ and ‘trial run?’” Aurie makes quotation marks with her fingers. “To uproot my entire life for a man…I mean? It sounds a little pathetic.”

For the first time in a long time, Aurie’s mother, Elina, sneaks into her head again. That chasing and following Kylian would ruin her. Maybe Elina was right. Maybe she was seeing Kylian’s plan all along.

“Aurèle,” Estrella snaps her fingers in front of her face. “It’s not pathetic, you know why? Because you are able to afford it. You are able to afford to try it out. You have time to see if it works. You have the skill and power to find a job over there—although you wouldn’t need money with that man’s kind of pockets.”

Maria interrupts with a chuckle and Aurie smiles sadly.

“And what have you done when it hasn’t worked?” Estrella asks rhetorically. “You’ve picked yourself up and kept going. Tenías ganas. You did that, no one else.”

Aurie feels the few tears that slip out and once they start, she can’t stop them. Tears stream down her face as she tries to wipe them away. The girls pull her into a side hug and lay their heads down onto her shoulders which only makes her cry harder.

“What about you two?” she asks with a wobbly voice.

“We will be fine,” Maria says. “Do not worry about us. You will always have us.”

“Phones work too,” Estrella adds and it makes the other two laugh.

“Plus,” Maria continues, “you can always visit us. Knowing you, you would probably come every two weeks.”

Aurie laughs as she wipes the tears, feeling a little better. She could always visit. Kylian had a jet that he could fly anywhere with and even if she couldn’t use that because let’s be honest, she wouldn’t want to, she could find a commercial flight.

“We will miss you certainly,” Estrella says, “but you won’t really be gone. There will always be a piece of you here.”

Aurie smiles fondly, wrapping her arms around the two bestfriends, “If I do end up leaving, I am going to miss you both so much.”

“‘If?’” Maria and Estrella shriek.

“We didn’t do all this crying for nothing!” Estrella chastises. “I will book your flight tonight.”

Aurie laughs loudly, “No, no, I am kidding. But seriously, Kylian hasn’t asked me to move anywhere, and if he does, it will still be my decision in the end.”

They nod understandably. “Yeah-mmkay.”

Aurie snickers, “I’m glad it took the possibility of me leaving for you two to show your true colors. Who knew you two loved me so much.”

“Oh Aurie—”

“You are full of jokes today—”

Aurie laughs again and unwraps her arms around them, “Thank you for this. I needed to get more tears out and this was perfect.”

“Of course, princesa,” Estrella smiles. “Always breaks our hearts to see you sad.”

“I know,” Aurie wipes her face more. “I am just emotional.”

Maria agrees and helps clean Aurie’s makeup with a tissue from her small purse, “Why even put makeup on if you will cry it off?”

“I know, I know,” Aurie repeats, enjoying getting pampered by her. They never let her look like a fool. Something they kept true since when Aurie first met them, and they let Aurie know her hair was all kinds of messed up from the bad weather.

-

The three of them make it back to the gala without a batted eye in their direction, seamlessly blending into the crowd. Kylian was too engrossed in conversation with a collection of teenage boys that were related to the residents. He was sitting in a chair, relaxed with his legs open and his arms resting against the empty seat next to him. His eyes were in deep concentration as he gave the boys advice on how to improve their football and mental skills.

Aurie notices him immediately and lets him continue the conversation. She mingles around with the other guests and makes sure all the refreshments are stocked. Raphael and Simone are sitting down at the table. Simone’s head is resting against her father’s shoulder as he holds her in his lap. Raphael now wears the flower crown, Simone most likely putting it on him. Aurie grabs two lemonades and heads in that direction.

Raphael gives her a kind smile, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Aurie smiles, gently tapping Simone’s back. Her hair is disheveled and her shoes scraped up. She peers up to look at her and gives her a tired smile. “Tired, Simi?”

Simone nods sleepily, “I ran too much with the other kids.”

“Aww,” Aurie chuckles, glancing back at Raphael.

“She’ll sleep well tonight.”

“She will,” Aurie agrees. “Where’s Camille?”

Raphael looks in the direction he last saw her, “Restroom, although I think she was trying to find you. Where did you go anyway?”

“To the garden with Maria and Estrella.”

“Ah,” he tsks, motioning to the cup of lemonade. Aurie nods and pushes it towards him for him to sip. Simone’s eyes blink heavily.

The two of them chat longer briefly until Aurie gets up to mingle with more guests. And as she crosses an empty table, Kylian grabs her forearm gently, “Sit.”

“Sit?” she looks up at him with a surprised smile. “Hello to you too, princess.”

Kylian rolls his eyes, feigning to be flustered, “You gotta eat something because I know you will want to help tearing all of this down.” He pulls a chair open with his foot and motions her down. He slides the plate of food in front of her. Aurie chuckles as she sits down in the propped seat. As Kylian sits down beside her, he kisses her cheek.

Aurie does just that. She eats while Kylian talks about his conversation with the teenage boys and the guests.

“You owe many people dances,” he mentions. “The ladies weren’t happy with my skills…and the men kept coming up to ask me if it was okay to dance with ‘my woman’ and I said yes.” Kylian grins cheekily.

“Why would you say that?” Aurie chuckles, not upset at all, just endeared from his reaction.

Kylian shrugs, “I liked the sound of them calling you my girlfriend, my girl, or my lady as some of them said.”

Aurie cringes, feeling older with the formality. “‘Lady?’”

Kylian chuckles and sits up to kiss her cheek, his arm resting around her seat, “My lady. You forgot a word, mon amour.”

Aurie’s cheeks warm at Kylian’s excited rant, his hands jesting around in the air. His continuous rambling should be annoying but it’s like music to her eyes. She hadn’t heard his voice the past week and hearing it all once again, it made her content. Such a simple sound, and it was all hers. Right here in front of her.

As she finishes her food, she clasps her hands with his underneath the table on her knee. He smiles when he feels it, pulling her empty plate off to the side so that he can lean against the table with his elbow propped up. His smile falters, “You…took off your makeup? Or some of it?”

Aurie’s smile wavers. “Do you have to notice everything?” Always so attentive.

“What was it?”

“I cried some more outside with Maria and Estrella.”

“Ah,” he frowns. His thumb strokes Aurie’s hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet.”

Kylian’s hand squeezes hers in a sign of reassurance. The pads of his fingertips bristle over her nails. “Okay.”

-

FIVE HOURS BEFORE

Kylian could practically hear the blood pumping through heart as the rain storm raged through Madrid. His palms were sweaty as he looked out the plane’s window. His flight was already set to be delayed an hour now and he was running out of time to find a tuxedo.

“Relax, I can go to the store real quick,” Brice suggested, watching Kylian’s face grow anxious the longer they sat on the tarmac. His bouncing knee was bound to burn a hole through the plane’s floor.

Kylian shook his head. “We’re gonna be too late.”

“No we aren’t. The dance will probably be three hours long so that gives us more time.”

“I need to talk to her beforehand, I can’t just walk up in there,” Kylian groaned, rubbing his face with his face. “She’ll be upset. And most of all, she deserves an explanation for my silence.”

Brice exhaled softly, staring across the small space at his best friend. “She’ll understand. She’s…sensible.”

Kylian snorted. “Too sensible. She probably wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Would you though?” Brice questioned and Kylian quieted down as he opened his eyes. He wouldn’t. That wasn’t the time nor place to talk about why he’s been gone. He should’ve never been absent in the first place. But one missed phone call after the other and it began to get pathetic to continue apologizing for it. He could tell she felt the shift as well—who wouldn’t—through her short responses.

And god did he miss her. He hated being away from her for so long without a proper goodbye.

Brice shuffled up to his feet, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “You stay here, I’m gonna find you a tuxedo.”

Kylian sighed, his head rolling as he watched him walk by. “And if the plane takes off?”

“It won’t, but if it does, I’ll just have it transferred to a store in Paris and someone will give it to you there when you land,” Brice reassured. “Just relax. It won’t bring you any help if you see Aurie and you feel anxious.”

Kylian nodded wordlessly, watching Brice exit the plane swiftly and then jog into a black van. He was beginning to accept that they wouldn’t have much time to talk when he did arrive before the gala began. With the minimum two hour flight and hour drive out of Paris, it would be a miracle if he even had a moment to share with Aurie.

Screw it, he thought.

Bouncing up from his seat he raced out of the flight and caught up to the van, knocking on the dew-plastered window before it drove off. Brice opened the door confused. “What?”

“Move over,” Kylian said, his eyebrows pinching as he felt droplets land on him.

Brice slid over to the other seat beside him without saying a word. Kylian couldn’t stand being on a plane alone with nothing to distract him for who knows how long.

Mac and Paul sat quietly in the front seat and they drove them to a Dior store. It was unusual for Kylian to not have a tuxedo ready on hand for an event like this but truthfully, all of his old tuxedos were too fancy for the occasion. He could’ve gone with a suit, but he wanted to be a bit more dressed up for Aurie.

And while his measurements were already on hand with Brice—and Dior—he still needed to pick it up and the downpour was making it difficult for anyone to drive to the airport to drop it off in time.

Although it seemed like they had all the damn time in the world now.

Kylian cursed softly as the rain got heavier once they entered the bustling streets of Madrid. The rain on the window blurred everything in his view.

Once the van halted, Brice and Kylian rushed out with their heads ducked. Paul was right on their side, attempting to hold out an umbrella for them but they rushed inside too fast that it was no use.

“What’s the color of her dress?” Brice asked.

“Green,” Kylian said, eyeing the racks of the suits.

“There’s hundreds of shades of green, Ky, what kind of green?”

Kylian paused at the associate coming up to him with the tuxedo in tow. Kylian grabbed it politely and held it over the back of shoulder before he glanced at Brice.

He had no idea what color green it was. He didn’t think to ask, barely even finding it out that it was green in general—was it even green? The more he thought of it, the more he doubted.

Brice’s face dropped. “You forgot?”

Kylian rubbed his face in despair. He was going to lose it. He was so tired, desperately needing sleep because the past couple of days he rarely got any. And not being able to talk to Aurie drained him.

He pursed his lips, the hand gripping onto the hanger of the tuxedo becoming like a lifeline.

Brice pulled his phone out of his pocket, promptly tapping along it and then holding it up his ear. He stood close to Kylian and scooted the other suits on the rack to calm himself down. They were both getting frustrated.

Brice tsks to himself when the call declines, immediately tapping the contact again and sending them a text. Kylian furrowed his eyebrows, trying to lean in closer to make out who the other person was.

He calls them again and masks his annoyance with enthusiasm. “Hey! I'm out shopping for Kylian—uh what color is your dress?”

Kylian’s eyes bulged as he overheard his words, reaching out for Brice’s phone. Pivoting his body, Brice bumped into the racks again and tried to straighten out the hangers. He successfully shielded his phone from Kylian.

“My dress?” Kylian overheard, stilling at her voice.

“Mm-hmm,” Brice nods with a scowl in Kylian’s direction. Fixing the hangers, he glared at Kylian. “For the gala.”

“Uh…” Aurie thought. Kylian’s hands paused on Brice’s forearm. “What for?”

Kylian can’t tell if the noise that comes out of Brice is a snort or a chuckle. “Kylian did say you were stubborn. I need it to match his tie.”

“He isn't coming tonight,” she responded. They halted in their fussing, Kylian stared at Brice in shock, his lips parting softly.

“Oh,” Brice said. Kylian urged him to continue the conversation with the flick of his hand. “Uh—did he not get invited?”

“Brice,” Aurie started and her tone stabbed Kylian right into his chest. He grimaced, rubbing the spot, she sounded upset and confused. “I mean…yeah he was invited but after everything that happened…I didn't think he'd be coming.”

Kylian sighed, rubbing his head. God he was going to get a headache, he could feel it. All of this miscommunication was stupid and unnecessary. Why did he have to keep it a secret anyway?

“Mm-hmm,” Brice mumbled, sliding the hangers to grab Kylian’s attention. He knew his best friend was starting to feel discouraged about the whole ordeal. “Well he said he was gonna be there tonight—”

“News to me.”

Kylian felt gutted hearing her remark and he shook his head quickly. Brice shouldn’t make any more promises to her because with the way this weather was, who knew if he was actually going to make it?! Despite the tightness in his chest, he motioned for Brice to end the phone call. He’ll buy every shade of green he has to.

Brice sighed, watching Kylian’s shoulders deflate and ignoring his plea. “Aurie…it won't always be like this…he just has a lot going on right now. I promise he'll tell you everything when he can. This is the first time something like this has happened.”

Kylian groaned, closing his eyes. It took a while for Aurie to respond and when she did, her voice sounded so small that Kylian could barely hear it. “Yeah…”

“Hang in there,” Brice encouraged, flickering his eyes towards Kylian.

Another agonizing moment goes by while Kylian eyes the green ties and bow ties. Maybe he could sneak in to get a look at her dress and then fix the tie onto himself in the parking lot. Hell, did he even really need a bow tie at this point?

“Aurie,” Brice said softly, getting Kylian’s attention. “The color of your dress?”

“Green, like an emerald green,” she answered quickly.

Of course it was, like the color of most of her plants. He should’ve known that.

“Okay, thank you. I'll talk to you later,” Brice sighed. “Take care, Aurie.”

Once he ended the call, Kylian looked at him remorsefully.

“Yeah, she’s upset,” Brice said curtly.

Kylian huffed, exiting the store with his tuxedo, leaving Brice to pick out a bow tie. He needed to call Aurie.

Once in the car, Paul shut the door behind him while he found Aurie’s contact quickly—it being his most recent—and called her. With each hum of the ringtone, his knee bounced and shook the car. The tuxedo was loosely draped across the seat and at this point he didn’t care if it got wrinkled.

“C’mon, Aurie,” he muttered.

But the call didn’t go through. It went to her voicemail, causing him to groan loudly.

He hesitated to call again. She was upset, no doubt about it. Hurt most likely.

He sighed, sending her a text instead:

I miss you, call me when you can bébé

He watched as the message was read and then saw her type a message back. He held his breath, hoping that the typing bubbles wouldn’t disappear.

I miss you too, I will

He frowned and shut his phone off. He didn’t have time to think about the message because Brice came in, tossing the green bow tie and receipt towards Kylian’s lap.

“Why are you upset?” Kylian asked, confused, although there was a slight irritation in his tone.

“Because, whatever is going on between you could’ve been avoided,” Brice exhaled sharply and clicked his seatbelt after he moved Kylian’s tuxedo.

“I know, but it’s been a hectic week, I couldn’t tell her,” Kylian defended himself.

“Yeah but saying something—anything, really—is better than not saying anything at all. I mean come on, Kylian, how much do you actually like her to be treating her like this?”

Kylian gaped but Brice shook his head.

“No,” Brice grumbled. “She’s perfect for you. I don’t get why you’re acting like a child.”

“I want to tell her but it has to be in person. I can’t even tell anyone yet.”

“But Aurie is different,” Brice sighed. “She isn’t just ‘anyone’ right? Or so I thought.”

Kylian pursed his lips. No, Aurie wasn’t just someone. She was someone he cared about, deeply and quickly, but still struggled to show it. Even with the tumultuous week he went through this week, he should’ve spared more time for her.

His trip to Madrid was abrupt and quickly planned by his mother and Florentino Pérez. One day he was in front of Dr. Minic and Martin for another mental evaluation and rehab, and the next day he was in Madrid getting tests done on his physical fitness.

It all went too fast.

Way too fast for Kylian to catch his breath and tell Aurie.

“I know,” Kylian sighed.

Brice eyed him, his disapproval slowly dissipating when he saw how stressed Kylian was. His eyes stared blankly at the back of the driver’s seat. Brice exhaled, “I know this is the first time something like this happened, the timing of everything and all, and you’re handling a lot of stuff at once, but don’t push her away and expect her to welcome you with open arms. You screwed up—sure—but Aurie is reasonable, she’ll understand if you just tell her the truth.”

Kylian nodded, digesting Brice’s words as he continued staring ahead with a dull gaze.

In the midst of Kylian droning his thoughts away, they return to the airport and climb up the jet’s stairs. The rain stopped and they took off about half an hour later.

Two hours later, Kylian was jolted awake in his seat by Brice.

“Come on,” he motioned, holding both his and Kylian’s bag on his shoulders. Kylian stood up and grabbed his bag from him and then tuxedo bag.

“What time is it?”

Brice tilted his head, his lips tight, “You have maybe an hour and a half. Probably just thirty minutes by the time we get to the gala.”

“Where’s your suit?” Kylian realized, barely noticing that Brice only had the suit he took to Madrid somewhere in his bag.

“I’m not going, but you are,” Brice reassured him as they climbed into the car. “However, you do have to get ready in the car.”

Kylian sighed. This wasn’t his first time getting ready in a car and most likely wouldn’t be his last. Each time he hated it, the height was entirely too small to maneuver around in there.

He would be fine without Brice at the gala but it would’ve been nice to have alongside him to calm him down.

Kylian undressed and dressed fast in the back seat, adjusting his bow tie over and over again. Finally when they arrived at the nursing home, Kylian was able to adjust his tuxedo better outside of the car and then quickly walk in to find Aurie.

Inside, he was met with the familiar walls he would walk through for Aurie’s bingo sessions with the residents. Turning the corner, he ran into Simone.

“Kee-lan!” she cheesed and pulled him into a hug. Her arms barely reached around his thighs as he bent down properly to give her a hug.

“Hey,” he beamed, adjusting the flower crown on her head. “What are you doing here alone?”

“I’m not alone,” she replied, pointing a nimble finger at a door that was opening. Camille and Raphael walked out of a small room in their matching purple dress and suit respectively.

They smiled at Kylian, greeting him warmly before Simone looked up at him, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. “You want to see Tatie Aurie?”

Kylian chuckled, his cheeks flushing with heat, “Yeah.”

“Okay, follow me,” she smiled and led him to the ballroom doors. “I haven’t seen her yet too.”

Kylian’s hands shook as he adjusted the buttons of his tux. Simone was doing good at distracting him but once they stopped at the door, he gulped.

“In here,” Simon paused and pointed at the doorknob. Her small hand reached out towards the handle and pulled it down, opening the door wide enough for the both of them to fit. He found Aurie before Simone could. His breath caught in his throat as he took in her stunning dress and pure beauty. His hands stopped trembling as he watched her adjust a centerpiece. His damn knees wanted to buckle.

Simone took off running and screamed, “Tatie Aurie!”

Kylian’s thoughts blurred as he watched them hug, his mind racing with what he should say first and what he could save for later. All his thoughts jumbled together in her presence that they didn't quiet down until her eyes landed on his.

-

PRESENT

Kylian watches blissfully as Aurie dances with the guests he promised would get time with her. She moves effortlessly on the floor, her steps light and her smile unwavering, as if she’s free from all worries. The sight warms Kylian’s heart.

Simone rests peacefully against his shoulder. Kylian had suggested Raphael switch off holding her so Raphael and Camille could share a dance, and he was grateful that Simone occupied his arms, providing an excuse to avoid the dance floor.

Time passes slowly, but Kylian doesn’t mind it. He’d rather soak in the gala that Aurie had been perfecting for weeks now. Every few minutes, her eyes find him with a radiant smile, and his fingers itch to reach out and touch her.

As the song changes, Camille approaches Kylian from behind, startling him as she appears beside him.

She chuckles, “Sorry, here I’ll take Simi.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. Camille’s hair is now frizzy, her skin glimmers with a small layer of sweat.

She nods. “Rafa and I danced too hard and now we need a breather.”

Kylian chuckles, carefully standing up and passing a sleeping Simone to her mother. Her small frame cuddles into Camille’s chest as Kylian pulls the seat out for her to sit in.

“Thank you,” Camille smiles. Kylian shimmies off his tuxedo jacket and drapes it over a chair nearby. He loosens the cuffs of his sleeves and heads toward a glowing Aurie.

As she notices him, her eyes light up with a sparkling smile, and he laughs nervously. She thanks her previous partner for the dance and wraps her arms around Kylian’s neck when they meet.

He kisses her nose as his hands settle on her waist. “Having fun?”

“Lots,” she smiles. She pecks his lips and then sways him to the slow rhythm of the song. Her fingers play with the collar of his white dress shirt. “You look really handsome.”

“Thank you,” he simpers. “You look stunning. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you all night.”

Aurie’s cheeks warm, and then her smile dips. Her hands tighten around his neck and he raises an eyebrow.

“What?” he whispers.

“I want to meet your family,” she admits. “I know I don’t have the best track record of families and mine is small, but…I want to meet yours. Soon. Plan it on my calendar and everything.”

Kylian's smile widens. “Okay. How about in two days?”

“Deal.”

Aurie leans in to kiss him, the kiss chaste and delicate, without an urgency but a promise. Kylian has rarely ever invited a girl to meet his parents, let alone the rest of the family. And Aurie, always reluctant to meet parents not just because of her time working in pediatrics, but of what this particular set of parents meant.

Of what it could mean for the future.

-------

Note: So sorry for the longest delay I’ve ever had, was on my last year of uni and yeah…life happened. Experienced many joys and lows over the last bouts of months, met a bunch of great people, stepped out of my comfort zone, and studied hard while dabbling in many outings. Not only that but I felt inspired to write for a couple of different players and scenarios and kept feeling stuck on this particular story, but I’m starting to find my groove back. Hopefully if all goes well, this story will at least have one more chapter (the epilogue) or two. Thank you for everyone who stuck by this story. It’s been fun closing the journey of Aurie and Kylian and I can’t wait to finish it soon, not only for you but for me. (:

Taglist: @karotland​​ @mrs-bellingham​ @kylianswifey​ @kymb-10​ @fictional-l0v3r @chaotic-taco-collector-blog​ @itsjuspenny-blog @mattmurdocksbigtoe @formula101x @et-in-arcadia-ego77 @lovekm @okayymochi @titti-maja @jokertbh @venus2eros @heli991113 @neymarloverxxx @444jodie @mm2007 @freespirit-51 @flawlessdiamond1 @euphoriapillz @imagesthatlive @ohpuckyeah @nothingtoes

[misc-obeyme]

nightbringer lesson 43

Well okay. Some of that was to be expected. Other parts, though...

Listen I didn't hate it, but I have questions!! Then again, I always have questions. Spoilers below as always.

So Babel, huh?

I thought it was interesting that this basically confirms that demons can't go to the Celestial Realm. Not even Lord Diavolo could get that to happen. Babel is apparently kinda like Cocytus - technically part of the Celestial Realm, but not actually part of the Celestial Realm (whatever that means I swear this game is gonna be the death of me).

So instead of sending them to the CR, Diavolo was able to send them to Babel.

With Solomon as their guide! Even though he's never been there before! And he absconds shortly after arriving at the gate!

Then they gotta be judged because of course they do.

And who should show up but Michael himself, disguised as Raphael once again.

I can't decide how I feel about Michael. I mean, he's clearly a menace, but sometimes he's also just super benevolent and there is this heavy implication that he still cares about the bros? I can't figure him out.

I thought it was interesting that Lucifer said this when I chose the option saying I wanted to meet Michael. Tell us how you really feel, Luci.

Anyway, it's interesting to remember that Michael pretending to be Raphael in that hard lesson from season one was actually millennia ago. Like it might have been many thousands of years since Michael disguised himself as Raphael.

But it annoys me that he does it at all, tbh. I was like oh cool Raphael gets to be in this part! But NO.

I also kinda got the sense in the locked lesson that Diavolo and Barbatos like knew this was gonna happen and had planned for it all along? Like it really felt to me like Diavolo is running the SF just so he can grant wishes for the bros and make them do little tests as a family or whatever.

I dunno, I can't figure out the end game for all these shenanigans. I'm just really hoping it'll somehow lead to some kind of Nightbringer related reveal. 'Cause so far... I'm kinda bored?

But we did have some excellent lines and a few other things I thought were interesting, which I will get to.

Hard Mode: Once again we see the Lil Ds doing their thing, Diavolo being adorable with them, and at the end Luke & Simeon approach Nos 2 & 5! What could they want!?? Guess we gotta wait until next time.

Okay here are some interesting tidbits.

I love the implications of this. Asmo asks Satan how Solomon knows about Babel, which says that Asmo thinks Satan might know this fact about Solomon even though he, a demon who has a pact with said sorcerer, does not. Turns out Satan doesn't know, either. But LUCIFER clearly does. asdklfjfdkfj noooooo I didn't immediately go SOLOLUCI that wasn't something I did at all...

I will add here that I felt there were some hints of a Solomon and Michael friendship, though. Is it possible that Solomon left because he didn't want to see Michael? Did they have a falling out? Is this implying Michael is Nightbringer? (This last one seems unlikely but there it is.) Also I think a friendship between them could explain how Solomon knows about Babel to begin with.

I still think the friend that Solomon made when he was locked up as a child could have been Michael.

This whole part confused the junk out of me. Beel. My sweet baby boy. WHY. Why would any of you still love the CR!?!?! I don't understand this at all. It feels like they're trying to get us to think that the CR is a great place. But I've seen them as the enemy from the start?? You can't just switch it on us now. You can't pretend that Michael, a manipulative disguise wearer who [spoilers redacted] is somehow a good guy now? I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But if he wasn't the one doing all that stuff, them SOMEONE in the CR was.

😭Barb why. I thought we were back in the time when you liked Solomon. I just want my wives to get along, is that too much to ask??

Speaking of my wives getting along... chowderhead is my new favorite insult lol. I love Mammon he always says what he's thinking and it's freakin adorable. Was I perhaps considering this in terms of solomams? NOOOOOO. But really what does it mean when a tsundere gives you a little insulting nickname like that? It means THEY LOVE YOU OF COURSE. Sorry okay I'm done.

Oh nothing, just Beel making it sound like he's actually done this before. I would pay money to see it.

This part made me laugh so hard. Like look how SAD they both look l;kasdjfjf. Diavolo's just like, sorry Dad... and Barbatos is like, you have done nothing wrong, my son, my favorite child.

ANYWAY.

I'm still holding out hope but so far this season has been somewhat underwhelming. I give it a solid meh.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[velidewrites]

The Daily Struggles Of An Art Student

Desperate to finish her male anatomy assignment before the deadline, Feyre Archeron finds a secluded corner in a cafe. Or so she thinks.

Pairing: Feysand

Tags: Modern AU, Artist!Feyre, Look folks I'm just going to say it: Feyre spends half of this fic looking up reddit [redacted] for a male anatomy assignment

Notes: Happy birthday the wonderful @the-lonelybarricade! I wrote you this definitely not unhinged one-shot as a little gift. Thank you for being such a great friend, and truly the most supportive person in this fandom. I cherish you!!

Read on AO3

Feyre was running out of time.

Deadlines, she decided, were really not her thing. What was that saying? “You can’t rush art?” Well, her professor at the New York Academy of Art would be inclined to disagree. Then again, Feyre wasn’t sure the blank page shining a soft, white light from her iPad could really count as “art.”

She sighed in frustration, shifting in her seat. As if the new angle could help, somehow. With exactly four hours and twenty minutes until she was to submit her assignment, the prospect of failing was quickly starting to look more and more like a reality. Feyre had always been bad at painting from memory, particularly when it came to capturing people. Her own cat, she could probably paint in minutes and be satisfied with the outcome. Or the view from her apartment. Or the honey-brown colour of her sister’s eyes, especially when she just saw Elain at dinner the other day.

Male anatomy, on the other hand…

Feyre needed a reference. Desperately.

It wasn’t unusual for an art student to spend hours on Pinterest, searching for the perfect pose, one that would be just right. Feyre had done it herself too many times to count. It was simply that…well, Pinterest could not provide a reference for everything. And Feyre would rather not use her own memory to capture a man’s physique in full.

She had just broken up with Tamlin, after all, and had very little interest in ever recalling their time together again. Lucky for her, he had moved to Boston last week to pursue his Master’s, never to bother her again. Hopefully.

Unfortunately, with Pinterest proving entirely hopeless, and Tamlin decidedly out of the picture, Feyre was left entirely out of options.

The worst thing about all this was that Feyre had only herself to blame.

There had been one option she simply pretended not to acknowledge, though she would have finished yesterday morning had it not been for her own stubbornness—or, as Nesta had called it, had she not been such a prude. Feyre certainly did not think of herself as one—it was just that…well.

Every morning, from 8 till 10:30 sharp, her class offered anatomy studies with a handful of volunteers from the student body posing for their life drawing. Ninety-nine percent of the time, they were completely nude, which was not something Feyre would have cared about in the slightest had their newest model not been Feyre’s best friend. And her sister’s new boyfriend.

Ever since she had told Lucien Vanserra the school was considering paying the volunteers for their efforts, his gaze lit up and, not even a day later, there he was, his name displayed proudly on the sign-up sheet. Feyre knew him long enough now to know the extra money in his pocket was just an excuse. Someone has to capture this body one way or another, Feyre, Lucien had told her a few days ago, a twinkle in his russet eye. She supposed he did make an interesting art subject, with the scar and all—but not nearly interesting enough to strut through the East Building proudly, letting both students and teachers alike gush on about his “cruel beauty.”

Elain, to her horror, seemed to support Lucien’s latest modelling endeavours wholeheartedly.

“He promised to bring a few of the sketches home,” her sister had told her excitedly at dinner. The best reaction Feyre could offer was a horrified, blinking stare.

It wasn’t that Lucien was lacking in the looks department—on the contrary, actually—but she’d always seen him as a brother, ever since the day he’d almost run her over on his motorcycle, her very first day as a college freshman. And so, for the past few days, Feyre would make sure to avoid the East Building like the plague.

Today, she ended up in a nearby campus cafe, a cozy spot for a senior art student seeking privacy, yet still crowded enough to make Feyre look over her shoulder every few minutes. She’d opted for a secluded corner near the restrooms, with no windows next to her table, just in case a nosy passerby caught a glimpse of what exactly Feyre was drawing. Or, rather, attempting to draw.

She glanced at her phone, an unpleasant sense of dread curling in her stomach once again as she realised twenty more minutes had passed. Had she really wasted all that precious time thinking about Lucien?

Feyre needed to come up with a solution, and fast. There was no way she was failing this class, not in her final year. She was planning to move to Paris next year and continue her education there—where better than the art capital of the world? She would not let a poor painting of a penis, of all things, ruin all of her plans and dreams for the future.

Relying on Pinterest for now, Feyre began sketching the unnamed man. His upper body posed no serious issues, and she found herself done with the clean lineart and three hours thirty minutes left to spare. The thighs, too, seemed to feature all the muscles in correct places, though upon further inspection, she had perhaps drawn them slightly too large for a regular, male specimen. Whatever. With Lucien as the current model, she doubted any of her classmates would submit perfectly proportionate sketches.

Good, Feyre decided. This was good. The only thing left for her to do now was to find a good reference for the final pièce de résistance. She could do this—there was no one around, after all, and she’d make sure her browser history would be wiped clean later. Ressina, her classmate from the Academy, liked to borrow Feyre’s iPad sometimes to try her skills at digital art—and Feyre wasn’t sure their friendship was well-established enough that she could explain without making a fool of herself.

With a deep, deep sigh, Feyre got over herself and fired up Reddit.

Well.

This was going to make things a whole lot easier.

It was honestly beyond her that this entire archive was out there, for free and simply waiting for her to download. Without wasting any more time, Feyre got to scrolling.

She hadn’t expected to be flooded with so many options, but soon enough, she found just the perfect reference—the angle matched exactly the pose she had already outlined, and from the ruler he’d so proudly displayed beside it, the man didn’t seem like he would mind. And so, with the image neatly placed in the corner of her canvas, Feyre began to add the sketch. Everything seemed to be coming together—and, her focus lost entirely to the penis before her, she was actually starting to believe she might just submit this thing in time.

“Friend of yours?”

“Shit!” Feyre jumped, pressing her iPad close to her chest as she whirled back.

The voice behind her—of course—turned out to be a man. The most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

“Well?” he asked, eyes twinkling. Were they actually violet, or was the soft light pouring through the window just that spectacular?

Feyre felt her cheeks heating. “You know, it’s rude to invade other people’s privacy,” she told him, anger slowly replacing the embarrassment coiling in her chest.  Who was this man, this stranger, to question her?

He only seemed more amused, though he lifted a defensive hand. “Hey, I was just leaving the restroom,” he said, pointing back to the staircase behind. “It’s not my fault you’re right out here for all to see. Who’s invading whose privacy now, hmm?” Before Feyre opened her mouth to retort, the man added, “Oh, no need to apologise. Mind if I sit?”

And with that, he simply plopped down on the chair beside her.

The audacity. 

Feyre’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t going to apologise,” she said, setting her now locked iPad on the table.

He ran a hand through his hair, raven waves soaking up the sunlight, and smiled again. “I was hoping you would say that.”

“Anyway, this isn’t my friend,” Feyre said, hoping there was enough mockery in her tone to wipe that stupid grin off his handsome face. “It’s a project. For art school.”

“Ah, yes” he mused, drumming his long, slender fingers on the polished wood. “I could tell from how precise your strokes were.” Something about the way he said strokes made the heat in her face nearly boil over. Get it together, idiot! He leaned back in his seat, as if he could somehow tell exactly what Feyre was thinking. Then, he proclaimed, “You’re an artist.”

Alright, Feyre decided. Not entirely a prick, then. “I’m not sure I’d call myself that,” she admitted honestly. Not yet, at least.

“I would,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling slightly as he added, “I’d like to call you many things, actually. Let’s start with your name.”

There it was. Feyre couldn’t help but flirt in return. Prick or not, she liked his boldness—and his good looks certainly were no disadvantage. “You first,” she demanded.

He flashed her a wide, brilliant smile. “My favourite subject.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

“Rhysand,” he said. “But you, darling, can call me Rhys.”

Rhysand. The name was so unusual she almost didn’t register what he’d called her. Darling. It was then that she’d finally taken her eyes off his face long enough to take in the rest of him—the deep, English accent, lilting as though he wasn’t speaking to her but singing the smoothest melody.

Yeah—she really needed to get it together.

“What brings you to New York City, Rhysand?” she asked him, not giving him the satisfaction of using his clearly personal nickname yet. His eyes sparkled again, accepting the challenge.

He shrugged. “Research. The sights. Pretty girls drawing male genitalia at 1pm on a Tuesday.” Rhysand winked. “Greatest city in the world, huh?”

Feyre’s cheeks flushed again. “Research?” she questioned, desperate not to go back to that topic with a man she’d only just met.

Rhys chuckled. “Yes. I’m an astronomer—or about to be, at least.”

“Interesting.”

“It is,” he agreed, and she could’ve sworn actual stars flickered in his gaze with the words. “You’d be surprised just how much the night sky has to offer.”

“I paint it sometimes,” Feyre told him, unsure why she’d just admitted something that personal to a stranger. “Whenever I feel…down, I suppose.”

To her surprise, Rhys nodded. “I do the same.”

Her brows flicked up. “Paint?”

“I’m afraid I’m not that talented. No, I look up—watch the stars.”

Feyre smiled. “That actually sounds wonderful.”

Rhys angled his head. “You know, I haven’t had the chance to explore the New York sky yet. I could use some company.”

Something told her she was up for one hell of a first date. “Alright, Rhys,” Feyre said, his face lighting up triumphantly at the name. She chuckled, grabbing her iPad as she rose from her chair. “Meet me here at seven thirty tonight.”

“Wait!” he called after her. “You still haven’t told me your name.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she teased. “I’m not sure I’m ready to part with darling.”

The stars in his eyes twinkled. “Oh, I think we’ll work something out.”

[blackjackkent]

Time for more Durge adventures! We've got Gale and Lae'zel so time to head straight for the grove and pick up Wyll to complete Rakha's starting party. (This might adjust over time; realistically Jaheira might be taking Gale's place at some point bc I love Jaheira and also [REDACTED FOR SPOILERS], and it's entirely possible Rakha will surprise me with who else she decides to get along with. But this is the starting plan at least. XD )

This of course means we kick off by spilling some goblin guts, which should make the beast in Rakha's head happy. o.o;

Before that, though, we get the same extra dialogue options with Lae'zel and Gale that we got with Shadowheart, so might as well start getting a gauge on what they think about their new traveling companion.

"My past is a mystery to me. Could the parasite have caused that?"

I find Rakha's relationship with Lae'zel already quite interesting, because Lae'zel's tremendous assertiveness and decisiveness allows her to get shit done while Rakha is going off the rails - but also serves as focus and direction, an anchor point for Rakha's instincts towards rage and violence. If asked who of her current three companions would provide her the most trustworthy advice, Rakha would likely - at least at this moment - answer Lae'zel.

This is partly interesting because, as we know, Lae'zel is actually young as fuck and perhaps has more confidence and training than actual wisdom of experience.

She doesn't really have any good answers regarding Rakha's past, though.

"Ceremorphosis takes all of you - mind, body, soul. An ordinary tadpole would eat at your memories until they were lost to the void. But our tadpoles are far from ordinary. I wonder if another factor's in play."

(A side note: Lae'zel was not present when Gale popped the word ceremorphosis, which means that she knows this word in Common, which is actually pretty impressive. I love that there is more than one subtle hint in the way she is written indicating that Lae'zel is actually pretty fucking smart despite her 10INT on paper. This was one of the things Hector liked about her too.)

"I've had these urges. I want to kill. I want blood." Just as she was with Shadowheart, Rakha is matter-of-fact here. Little point in hiding the matter.

Lae'zel seemed unbothered by Rakha's burst of chaotic violence against the tieflings, and is no more phased by this admission either. "Many a good warrior savors the scent of blood in the air. There's no shame in a capricious murder now and again. Too many, though, and you waste energy and dull your weapon. My suggestion: attack with purpose and savor your kills. And if the urge proves too much... well, I'm sure we can find you a goblin or two to carve up."

This is not, strictly speaking, healthy advice from an outside perspective; however, Rakha listens with surprisingly rapt attention.

Attack with purpose. She carves the words on the inside of her own skull. Yes. This is what troubles her about what she has come to term "the beast" - the blinding gleeful destruction that takes over and relishes death for its own sake. Her own rage has its place; it will keep her alive, and those who seek to stand in her way will do her world no harm by leaving it. But the beast silences what little is left of her own mind. It controls her and uses her and seeks only blood, and blood, and blood, and blood, and blood...

Lae'zel's words carry the first truth she has been certain of since she woke up. Attack with purpose, and savor your kills.

Yes.

-----

Her similar conversation with Gale is a bit more of a mixed bag.

"My memories before the nautiloid are shrouded in darkness."

"Memory loss isn't usually a symptom of ceremorphosis. If it is, they've forgotten to write it down in any text I've read on the subject. Then again, our case isn't exactly usual. Perhaps whatever's causing our tadpoles to remain in stasis has also affected your mind. If ceremorphosis takes place, all trace of your former self will be subsumed into the mind flayer's hive. So to still be here, if a mite forgetful? Still a win in my book."

An optimistic outlook, under the circumstances. On some level, Rakha was hoping that Gale might have a more specific answer to what happened to her, and that he doesn't is disappointing. But as she doesn't have any other better explanation, she still assumes this whole mess is the tadpole's fault until she figures something else out.

"I have violent thoughts. Depraved thoughts. Ones that refuse to go away..."

"We all have those from time to time! I once wished a most impure demise on a colleague of mine who bought the last remaining copy of Etheril's Enchiridion of Enchanting Easements. First edition, too. As regards your own morbid little fantasies, I'm sure they're nothing to worry about - so long as they remain fantasies."

Rakha lost track of everything he was saying somewhere in the middle of this paragraph, but she picks it up again near the end, and frowns. She remembers the intellect devourer, newborn, crunching between her fingertips. That was no fantasy, whatever Gale might think she meant.

[autisticempathydaemon]

Hi! I’m here for the redacted boy pairing, I saw it on your blog and honestly wasn’t going to submit, until I read the questions and thought that they were super fun, unique, and interesting! The song I’m fixated on at the moment is This is what Autumn Feels Like by JVKE. The lyric I always look towards too whenever I play it is “Love is like riding a bike, scary but then it’s alright. I got the hang of it, right?” Because I feel like it’s a pretty good analogy! And I definitely relate to always wondering whether or not you’re doing something correctly 😅. My Enneagram Type is 6 apparently (I took the test just now) and I’m an ENFJ if that helps. I don’t think I’ve ever gone out of my way to listen to a ‘gargantuan YouTube essay’ but I do enjoy hearing people ramble about their interests if that’s similar! My childhood imaginary friend was Lucy from Narnia, I used to imagine that we would go horseback riding and I would run away to Narnia with her and never come back. To fall asleep I usually stay up watching shows (current obsession is criminal minds) or doing things like that and then passing out, though if I can’t sleep I usually just count until my brain shuts off. I would love the name Adrianna. I just think it’s really pretty and it has a lot of nickname options! Which is one of the few things I dislike about my current name, there are like 2 things you can call me to shorten it and one of them reminds me too much of my dad for me to feel comfortable with people using it. I think my favorite audio is either the decorating for the solstice one with David (I’m feral for the way he explains it all and then goes out of his way to tell Angel that he doesn’t want them to feel left out and that they’re the most important part of his life!!) or the one where Vincent tells Lovely about the monarchal summit (oh the foreshadowing) and about his first time there (I think it’s called Cuddling with your Vampire bf but I could be wrong). The Redacted boys I don’t get the hype for but don’t necessarily hate are Ollie (sorry dude, I’m sure you’re sweet and all but it’s just not my cup of tea) and Vega (I do actually dislike him! Everyone talks about this one video of him in the imperium but I’m too scared to watch the whole imperium and no one has given me a clear answer on what video it is that he’s not a ass). I’ve read the Lunar Chronicles (highly recommend) so many times that I practically know them by heart. I have a soft spot for twisted Fairy Tales and LET ME TELL YOU THEY DO IT SO WELL! This may be an odd answer but I’d want Damien as my best friend. I feel like we have a lot in common and I love me a sarcastic but incredibly driven kinda guy, that’s how a lot of my friends are. I don’t have a go-to topic when I tired, but everyone can tell because I start giggling like crazy, as if everything is funny 🥲. My gas station drink is the Cumberland farms slushies, I would mix the blue and red to make purple. I’m a sucker for the Spotify daily mixes tbh, bc I don’t have premium and they offer me the most amount of control as far as changing the song, replaying it, and only listening to the ones that I want to, plus it’s curated which I very much enjoy. My guilty pleasure media is probably in part Redacted 😅 but also I enjoy SOME Yandere stories that I find on like fanfic websites. And I’m talking about like ‘log this person is so dedicated to you! How fun! 🤩’ I usually scroll past when it’s like an actually ab-sive situation or senario. I really enjoyed this thank you!! 😊

Sorry this is the same person who just submitted the last ask (the one with the imaginary friend being Lucy from Narnia) and of course after I submitted I thought of some extra to add 😭 sorry for the inconvenience, I just wanted to add that I’m an Aries and a huge swifty, have a good day!!

Hmmm, this is hard because I feel like ENFJs could really work so beautifully with a lot of people- at least, Redacted people. In the end, I decided to pair the Protagonist, the natural leader, with our favorite leader, David Shaw.

After all, ENFJs, Arieses, and Sixes can be summed up as confident, principled idealists, the kind of friend who takes charge and takes care of their own. You’d be a wonderfully extroverted contrast to David, the perfect mate of the pack Alpha. I also like David for you because Sixes tend to be motivated by a desire for stability and security in their lives, and… well, c’mon. He runs a security company. I need not say more.

In addition to the pun, there’s so many cute, little things that’d be charming about your life together. Criminal Minds marathons would be so fun with David; he strikes me as the type who can always guess the UNSUB, and he feels a strong kinship with Hotch. He wouldn’t really understand the Taylor Swift hype, but that wouldn’t stop him from pulling some security connections to get you killer seats when she tours close to Dahlia.

Song:

No matter where you are, I'll be there/ We can be the generation/ Who learns how to love/ Mistakes and empty promises/ Will never be enough/ So tear apart these giant hearts/ That beat inside us now/ Let's conquer the percentages/ And rise above the crowd/ And I won't let you fall (won't let you fall)

This song is one of the most down to earth yet romantic songs I know, and that’s why I like it for you and David. Fun fact, the duo who sings this are married, and this is the song they wrote and performed as their wedding vows. That’s the kind of heart-melting, ooey gooey lovey shit that I think suits David and his partner, because that man is a sap and not good at hiding it.

Runner-Ups:

Lasko, I like for you for two reasons. One, he could use a friend and partner like you, he needs it. Two, I can see him also being a Narnia kid growing up, so that’d be a really cute thing for y’all to bond over. Geordi, I also think could use a partner like you, but honestly he’s mostly a runner up because he’s my favorite Redacted boi to headcanon as a Swiftie.

note: it’s no inconvenience at all, lovey, you’re good 💚

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[omgkalyppso]

What does their relationships look like? Not even in simply a romantic way but like are they close with family and friends, do they have someone they protect, etc?

Thank you for the ask, I really appreciate it. 🥺💐

Étoile had a very close relationship with their late mother, my skyrim dragonborn imperial werewolf paladin oc, Wylla, and has a very good relationship with their living mother, my stolen skyrim npc oc the priestess of the daedric prince Azura, Aranea Ienith.

I think Étoile and Aranea write to each other every few months, and as a Cleric in this setting Aranea would have access to Sending so she could reach out to Étoile directly if there was ever immediate news on her end. Something in bg3 act 3 implies that there is a paid public service for this, and so Étoile could also do the same from the city.

I don't think Étoile would reach out to Aranea in bg3 act 3 because so much is happening, and goodbyes are hard. They might arrange a letter before going to face the [redacted]. And based on the ending Étoile got for bg3, they would retrieve this letter and have to write something much longer with much more grief and details of their friends to send to her.

There are things that have happened that would put a strain on Étoile's relationship with their mother, but, you know, spoilers.

I think Étoile believes their relationships to a lot of people in Baldur's Gate before the events of the game were superficial, whether or not that was true for the other person. They feel connected to few people, but many who journeyed with them through their recent, rather extreme, hardships.

They had so much in common with Shadowheart entirely by accident, that they feel extreme kinship with her and her family.

They have nothing in common with Lae'zel, and yet with her it was the same. They were awed by her for being from across the stars and granted her a lot of expect and leeway in adjusting to the differences with her new environment.

I thought during early access I might have shipped Étoile and Lae'zel, but playing the game, I felt like she was too young for them and what they each wanted out of a relationship was too different, at least at the outset.

I didn't look up polyam relationships before diving in and so Étoile (and I) were disappointed that Wyll wasn't an option. I'm still deciding kind of how fast or whether Wyll would grow to be more comfortable with receiving and pursuing the romance he idolizes while satisfying himself with at least one other person present. Wyll's approval was the easiest for Étoile to build. They have very similar values and would continue to be good friends regardless of involvement, but the way the game approached the inaccessibility of polyamory between Wyll and Astarion left a lot to be desired and made it feel like "canon" Wyll didn't respect Étoile's boundaries, preferences and other relationships.

Halsin was a surprise! He wasn't what I was expecting from early access. And after the Wyll debacle, I didn't expect Étoile was going to have other relationships outside of Astarion for another few decades post-game (if they survived, woo...). But then Halsin's dialogue was so generous, and that was so romantic. I laughed in surprise when Halsin expressed complete non-interest in a relationship, but I completely love him. He loves, he loves his friends, he fucks, but he needs to know he can leave, he needs to be able to leave; an easy thing for Étoile to accommodate. They can only grow closer.

To keep from going on too long, I'll bring up that Étoile is largely with Astarion because Astarion was the first companion to flirt with them in early access, lmao. I have a post in their tag even where I was like "oh no! do I wait for Wyll or Lae'zel or go for it?" dfghgfdhdf Now I can't picture them apart. If I'm thinking of Étoile, Astarion is just around the corner / I'm wondering what he's up to.

There are a lot of characters / friends / lovers they would die for. I'm unclear how to answer the question about who they would protect.

[pan-fried-autism]

The North Experiment Part 3: Late

Characters: Swap!Grem Mewton, Swap!M0u5e, Swap!Nikolai (@bowlerhatwearer), [REDACTED]

Summary: Grem is late to pick up Nikolai.

She should have been here by now.

That was the current thought of Nikolai Akdow.

Earlier, he and his friend had made a plan to meet at a cabin she had been staying at. She would come and bring him to the cabin, and he would stand in the doorway and talk. Plus, he would get to meet her assisstant, who she had often spoke fondly of. He had been looking forward to it.

Dr. Mewton had told him that she would come back for him "in two and a half hours", leading him to her cabin.

It had been three.

Could she have forgotten? It seemed a little likely. Dr. Mewton (or Grementine, her first name) could be a little forgetful at times, especially when excited or distracted. Perhaps she forget what time she would pick him up, or forgot to pick him up altogether.

However, from his many interactions with Grementine, she had also shown herself to be a smart and caring individual. If she was going to bring him to her cabin, she probably would keep that front and center in her mind. It's more likely she simply forgot the time.

Nikolai shifted in place, and looked out from the mouth of the cave. The snow was really picking up now.

... He couldn't help but feel just a bit of concern, rolling like a quiet stream through his decaying body.

Grem had once mentioned to him that it normally took sometimes between 10-20 minutes to walk to his cave from the parking lot. Though it could just be taking her longer from the weather, he knew that she was staying at a cabin. Based on his knowledge of the location of the cabins and their distance from his cave, it would take about half that time to walk from there to the cave.

Could she really have forgotten? It really didn't seem as likely now.

A bit of snow winded up on Nikolai's face, and he went to wipe it away, until he took notice of his slightly shaking hand.

Had he gotten... nervous about this?

Grementine was likely fine. She was a bit strange, but was hardy and could hold her own in a fight (as she had told him, which he didn;t doubt too much.) He shouldn't worry so much.

He thought back to what she mentioned to him earlier, right before she left.

"In case I forget to come up, my cabin number is A-2! It's with the smaller ones." she had said to him.

... Maybe he should worry. Maybe an unexpected visit might soothe him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Grementine Mewton was, in fact, late. Only by 5 minutes at the time.

She had planned to make some canned lentil soup she had brought, before heading up to get Nikolai. However, the soup had taken longer to cook than expected. Currently she was sitting at the small table, eating the still-hot meal as fast as she reasonably (and safely) could.

M0u5e was on the couch, watching Home Alone 2 on the TV. Grem always gave him the option to sit at the dinner table with her while she ate. Usually she accepted every time, but today it seemed she'd rather watch a movie. Grem didn't mind.

"UGH, I can't believe I'm gonna be late to pick up Nikolai for his own hangout!" she groaned, embarrassed.

"I'm sure he won't mind, D- Grem." M0u5e spoke from the couch, eyes still fixed on the TV.

"Yeah but... it's not good host behaviour I think."

Finishing up the soup, Grem practically jumped out of her seat and scampered over to the coatrack. She plucked the coat off of its hook, and was just putting her right arm through the sleeve when she heard a knock at the door.

Grem turned and looked at the door, tilting her head quizzically.

"... Is that Nik?" she remarked a little quietly. "Guess he decided to show up early."

Shrugging and smiling, she threw the coat onto the table and opened the door.

... And was greeted by a different kind of beast.

He stood tall, navy blue winter jacket swallowing up his slender form. His twitching nose and ears were noticeably tinged pink under the short brown fur on his face. His eyes were haf-lidded and dark, full of nothing but an icy cold abyss. If you looked deep into them, though, you could see a few sparks of a hidden inferno.

The mans eyes looked down at the cat, his neutral expression changing as his mouth turned up in a smirk.

And he only said one thing--

"Hello, kitten."

[doberbutts]

I’m just going to copypasta the email I sent to the owners of Creed’s littermates, that seems easiest.

Hello all,

I figured this was the easiest way to inform everyone at once. I had a long conversation with [redacted] about this right after his vet appointment yesterday, I am still reeling from the news.

As many of you know, I had a high grade mast cell tumor removed from Creed's leg back in late April/early May. I was warned that considering the grade and his age, the chances it would come back even with good margins were not slim.

Earlier this week, I noticed that the tumor was indeed growing back. Not only that, but I noticed a suspicious "scratch" on his other leg that just appeared to continue to grow and lump-ify as the week progressed. On check-in yesterday they found a third, very small lump on his knee... and then once he was in the back the vet found three more, one of which appears to be deep under the skin of his abdomen, potentially resting against or hanging off of an organ. This would make sense for why I have noticed a decreased ability to "hold" his "potty" as he's healed from the initial surgery.

Removing all of these lumps is not feasible financially or, in my opinion, ethically to my dedication to Creed's happiness. We removed one lump and six more grew back in four months. The chances that removal would result in the same, a long recovery time (roughly a month) and even more lumps appearing by the end to then consider a third, fourth, fifth surgery is not something I think I am willing to continue to subject him to. Additionally I cannot afford thousands of dollars of surgery every couple months for cancer that acts this aggressively.

On doing further research, it seems once we get to recurring tumors and new tumors and ulcerated tumors (the "scratch" I found) and we know it's grade three mast cell, the time the dog has left is fairly limited even with aggressive surgeries and chemo treatment. We are talking a few months up to a year when it progresses to this point.

At this point we are going to do an abdominal ultrasound to see what's going on with the tumor that is deep inside him and try to judge how much time we're talking about and what warning signs to look for so we know when it is fair to let him rest. I have a few leads with holistic treatments as well to keep him comfortable and happy as long as possible. Right now, looking at him, you wouldn't think something's wrong. He's still as excitable and happy and energetic, he eats and plays and trains. I retired him when he began telling me that jumping into my car after a long day of work was painful, I had thought due to his previous shoulder injury from my car accident. We'll be seeing if a chiro can help with that, and of course discussing pain management options as things progress with his vet.

Creed is only 7.5, not too old of a dog but a senior for a doberman. He saved my life coming home with me, and he continued to save my life repeatedly as a service dog. He is the best dog I've ever had, and I owe it to him to make his final months/year the best I could ever give him.

Thank you all for joining me on this adventure with him. I've met many wonderful people and had many wonderful adventures as a direct result of [redacted] placing him in my hands seven years ago.

[starlitangels]

Happy Birthday Zozo!

You guessed it! Here’s my birthday present to @zozo-01, my co-conspirator in almost all things Redacted at this point XD Hope you have a great day, Zo! You deserve it! I love you! 2.4k words

—

A jaunty, too-cheerful ringtone woke me up first thing in the morning. I jolted and grabbed my phone off the mattress beside me. That wasn’t my alarm. That was a phone call.

My eyes hurt too much to look at the caller ID, but it wasn’t just a string of numbers—I could see that much through my blurry barely-awake vision. I slid the Answer option on my phone and held it to my face. “H’lo?” I grumbled.

I heard a deep intake of breath. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy biiirthday dear Zozooooo! Happy birthday to you!” Asher and his mate sang.

I couldn’t help but groan. “Ash. It is too early in the morning for that song.”

“C’mooon, Zo!” Ash said. “It’s your birthday! Ya gotta let your pack sing to you!”

“I did. I didn’t hang up the second I heard you singing, did I?” I retorted.

Asher just laughed. “Well, regardless, we both hope you have a great day—”

“Happy birthday, Tank!” Asher’s mate called in the background.

“—and we’ll see you later this week!” Ash finished.

“Thanks. Both of you,” I said.

“Byyye!” Ash drawled.

“Bye!” his mate chirped.

The call disconnected.

My eyes cleared up enough to look at the date on my phone. Yup. October first. My birthday.

I grunted, dropped my phone back on the mattress, and flopped back down onto the bed. David and Asher had gone out of their way to make sure I had no pack obligations today so I could have whatever kind of birthday I wanted. Which was nice of them. My main goal was a bit of extra sleep—

That of course didn’t come as my phone rang again fifteen minutes after Ash hung up.

This time I could see the caller ID and recognized Milo’s mate’s name—when had they given me their number? Before Washington? After? I didn’t remember having their number.

I answered it. “Yeah?”

More singing. Milo and his mate were both better singers than Ash and his mate.

“Is this gonna be an all-day thing?” I asked when they finished singing.

“Why, who called first?” Milo asked.

“Ash.”

Milo snorted. “Of course he’s only early when it comes to callin’ for birthdays,” he muttered. “Late to everythin’ else.”

“Anyway,” Milo’s mate put in. “We just wanted to call before both of us left for work. We both got called in even though it was supposed to be a day off. Sorry it’s so early. We hope you’re having a really great day, Zo. Call us if you need anything.”

“Sounds good,” I said, with absolutely no intention to call them for anything. Milo was one of my best friends growing up, but for my birthday I had other plans—ones that didn’t involve very many people.

“See ya later!” Milo’s mate said, Milo parroting the words in his accent a bit further from the mic.

“Bye,” I said. I hung up. “I swear to God if David calls in fifteen minutes I’m going to throw my phone out the window.”

I turned it on silent, shoved it under my pillow, and burrowed back down, trying to get back to sleep.

I must have, because the next thing I knew, there was a knock at my door and weak dawn light was peeking through the blackout curtains, rather than the pitch blackness from before.

I rolled out of bed and stomped through my apartment to the door, peering through the peephole.

“You got here just in time,” I said as I opened the door to Sam. “Sun’s almost up.”

“Yup,” Sam said, hands in his pockets.

I nodded backward and stepped away from the door. “Get in here, cowboy,” I said.

He rolled his eyes—affectionately—and ducked inside. I shut the door behind him, then turned to find him already wrapping me up in a hug. “I am goin’ to let the ‘cowboy’ thing slide just this once on account-a today bein’ your birthday, darlin’,” he said.

“Awww. Is that my present?” I teased.

Sam leaned back, not letting me go, in order to meet my eyes. “What kinda mate do you think I am? I got you a real gift too,” he protested, sounding offended.

I perked up. “Ooh! What is it?”

“A surprise. As gifts are s’posed to be.”

“Well can I open it now?”

“Do you want to, or are you just curious?”

“Those aren’t opposites, Sam.”

He shrugged. “Don’t have to be.”

I rolled my eyes—affectionately. “Okay. I’m not going to deny that I’m curious, but I also want to open it now. With you. Because it’s a gift from you.”

“Yep. And I might regret it.” That last sentence was muttered under his breath, like he hadn’t actually wanted me to hear it. “Alright. This is a gift that comes in two parts,” he said. “Part one…” from the pocket of his jeans, he dug out a small, wrapped package. The paper it was wrapped in wasn’t fancy or decorated. Simple brown paper tied with twine. Cowboy, I thought with a smile.

He placed the package in my waiting hands. It was a lot heavier than I expected for its size. Tied to the twine was a small card.

For the wolf who wants to do everything herself. Happy birthday, my darlin’ Zo. All my love, Sam

I looked up at him with a happy, touched smile. “I love you too, Sam.”

He brushed a bit of my hair out of my face and behind my ear. “Open it up,” he invited softly.

I untied the twine and tore open the paper. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed. “This is beautiful!”

A Swiss army knife. A wolf’s head howling at the moon behind it engraved into the red casing on one side, my name on the other side. The moon was an inset of mother-of-pearl. I tucked the twine with the card into the pocket of my pajama shorts and started to examine the knife, pulling each blade and tool from its place to look it over.

“This is incredible! Thank you, Sam!”

“You like it?” He almost sounded like he couldn’t believe his ears.

“I love it!”

Making sure to close all the blades and tools back into their place, I threw my arms around Sam, holding onto him tight. He chuckled. “Well… I’m glad, darlin’. I thought it’d be something you’d like.”

“I do. Very much.”

“Good. Which brings me to part two.” He stuck his hand into the pocket of his flannel and pulled out a different package, wrapped much the same as the first. I set the Swiss army knife on the coffee table of my apartment and took the package from his hand, untying the twine and pulling off the paper.

“What’s this?” I asked, looking at a few different things all bundled together.

“This is a care kit for the knife. Whetstone, to sharpen the blades. Oil for the pivot joints. Polish for the casin’, cleaner for the metal. My…” Sam cleared his throat. “My father gave me my first knife and taught me to care for it. I know you already own a couple knives, but for your first birthday with us together, I wanted to get you a special one. Call it… Collins family tradition.”

He didn’t quite meet my eyes, instead focusing on pointing out the items in the care kit, as he spoke. I had the guess it was because he hadn’t seen his family in a while. The only “family” he really talked about was Vincent, William, and his progenies. I’d never heard much about the Collins family back in the South where he was from. I had a guess that since turning into a vampire, one party or the other stopped reaching out to each other much and weren’t close anymore.

I moved until I was in Sam’s line of sight. “Hey,” I entreated. “I’m honored to be part of your family tradition.”

“Thank you, darlin’,” Sam said. Voice soft and quiet.

“C’mon. Kitchen. I haven’t had breakfast yet and I’m hungry.”

Sam took a deep breath. “At least you’re admittin’ it,” he said. “Actually eatin’ somethin’ instead-a just… drinkin’ more caffeine.”

“I do not need to be called out by my own mate in my own home,” I said, dragging him by my arms around his waist to the kitchen. He was strong enough to resist me, but he didn’t bother. Just laughed as I let him go at the counter island and pecked a quick kiss to my cheek before I could pull away from him. “Charmer.”

“Just for you, darlin’.”

In a blur of movement, he’d hoisted me up onto the counter island.

“Now, howzabout I make you some breakfast? That way at least I know it’s balanced,” Sam teased.

“Fine.”

I watched Sam look through my cupboards, cataloguing everything I had in the house at the moment—mostly nonperishables, but more food than I’d had in the cupboards in a long time—with a sharp silver look.

He started assembling a few ingredients and I stared in surprise. “Oh. You’re going all out. I was gonna grab a muffin from the freezer.”

Sam leveled a look at me. “Well, like I said: I’m makin’ sure you eat somethin’ balanced.”

“I know but it takes so looong to cook a whole breakfast.”

Sam chuckled and went back to making breakfast—but he did toss me a small snack as he worked. “That oughta tide you over,” he remarked.

I scrunched my nose at him playfully. “Awww. Look who’s sweet to me.”

“You’re more loved than you know, darlin’.”

Before I could brush off his statement, his phone buzzed with a text. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it. A small smile formed on his face. He looked up and met my eyes.

“It’s David,” he said.

I blinked. “Why’s he texting you?”

Sam showed me the text.

David Shaw: Zo isn’t answering her phone. Are you with her?

I swore. “My phone’s in my room—on silent. Under my pillow. Let me go grab it. I’ll text him back.”

I hopped off the counter and went to my bedroom, digging my phone out from under the pillow.

Missed Calls (2) David Shaw & Alpha Mini

Message: David Shaw Hey. Call me or my mate when you get this.

Right as I read the text, my phone lit up again.

Incoming Call… David Shaw

I answered it. “Hey David,” I said. “What’s up? Emergency? Do I need to come into the office?”

“No,” David said. “I just called to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Wow,” I remarked sarcastically. “What has your mate done to the David Shaw I knew as a teenager?”

“Shut up,” he retorted. I snorted.

In the background, his mate started singing Happy Birthday. Dramatically, but staying on key. Exactly what I’d expect from them.

Sam had appeared in my bedroom doorway and was smiling. I knew he could hear what I was hearing over the phone. I suspected he’d texted David while I’d gone to grab my phone, so David had known to call again.

“We love you Zooooo!” David’s mate said when they were done singing.

David grunted agreement.

“Davey!” his mate chided, quietly but the mic still picked it up. “Say it!”

“We do love you, Zo,” he agreed properly. I snorted. What had his mate done to him, indeed.

“Thank you both,” I said. “Now, if you don’t mind, my mate is here, and I was hoping to have breakfast with him.”

“Sure, sure,” David said.

“We just wanted to wish you a happy birthday and tell you we love yooouuu!” David’s mate added. I chuckled. David had called them a menace to me before, and I could see why he’d say that. His mate was always kind and affectionate—perhaps overly so—even to me. Maybe because David and I were so similar.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Love you Tank! Byyyeee!”

“See you later this week, Zo,” David said.

“Bye David. Bye Alpha Mini!”

“Byyyeee!”

“Bye.”

David hung up. I chuckled and looked back at Sam. “I assume I have you to thank for those two calling me again?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny any allegations at this time,” Sam said. Smiling. He held his arms out. I crossed to him and let him hug me. “I told ya. You’re more loved than you know. By so many people. The rest of your pack and their mates—they all love you.”

“I know. And I’m scared to check the pack’s Discord server. Because I just know that Ash has spammed the general chat with birthday GIFs. He does it for everyone else. And once he does it, everyone is reminded it’s someone’s birthday and then the whole general chat is just birthday wishes, even if the teenage members have no idea who it’s for.”

Sam chuckled. “Sounds nice,” he said. He nodded toward the doorway. “Now c’mon. Breakfast is almost ready.”

I followed him back into the kitchen.

—

For the first time in a long time, I had a lazy day. Just me and Sam and no expectations. Mostly just curled up on the couch in comfortable silence, cuddled together. Occasional kisses exchanged—and occasionally something a little spicier. Sam was warm, solid, and strong. I never felt safer than I did with his arms around me. And for someone who was strong enough to fight off vampires and usually felt perfectly safe in my own skin—or my own pelt—that was saying a lot.

As the sun started to go down, I snuggled closer to Sam. “Stay here tonight?”

He chuckled. “I was actually gonna invite you back to mine,” he remarked.

I thought about that for a moment. Sam’s place didn’t have neighbors—especially not ones sharing the walls. But it was so far away…

“Okay,” I said. “Yours it is.”

He smiled. “Thanks for lettin’ me spend the day with you, darlin’.”

“I wouldn’t want to spend my birthday with anyone else.”

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. Another quickly to my nose, before meeting my lips. “I love you, Zo. Happy birthday.”

I smiled. “Thanks Sam. I love you too.”

His smile turned a bit wolfish. “Now get that cute ass of yours in my truck, and let's get back to my place.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” I smirked back at him—equally as wolfish—and popped off the couch. “Let’s, uh, skedaddle, cowboy.”

“You menace,” he sighed, still grinning, chasing me out of my apartment while I cackled.

[hardheadedbighearted]

Who among the DTLS cast would you most likely see wielding Barrel's Warhammer?

So I had to google and this is what came up, so I assume this is it. Going forward with literally zero knowledge of what we're talking about, my instinct is to say Nora, because, you know, hammer. However! We can get more creative than that; there are characters who don't have signature weapons/powers (Nora has no need for any weapon other than Magnhild, after all), and that we haven't planned for, so I would instinctively look to one of them.

In the main cast, we have Skittles, June, and Violet; all DuckTales characters because all of my mains come pre-packaged with signature weapons thanks to the genre. However, if we expand beyond the main cast there's also Jaune's many sisters (any one of whom I could bring in more long-term if I felt like it), Kline, {redacted}, and Tai (who was never given a signature weapon in canon and I've been working under the assumption that he's a brawler, but that isn't confirmed), and Jacques, who I only added for the lulz.

Now, Kline is out, because I feel like he's not a fighter, and if he doesn't know how to wield a weapon he'd most likely be a fencer- after all, someone had to train Weiss and Winter and Willow was too deep in the cups to do it. It would be nice to imagine it was Kline who did it :).

Jacques is out because I would need to not only completely rewrite my plans for him, I would also need to put in a lot of work into his character to make it not only work but also make sense. I do have some thoughts for how I would make it work, but I don't feel like putting in the commitment. So Jacques is out.

Tai would be extremely hot with a giant warhammer but you know what else is hot? Tai just fucking punching things.

{redacted} does technically already have a signature weapon, but I thought it was kind of weird and lame and didn't actually know what was going on with it, and I have pre-installed DuckTales canon that could actually let me give them a giant magical warhammer with relatively little upset to my plans, and would honestly be extremely interesting and I will definitely be revisiting these thoughts when we get around to this character, but at the same time, I'm not sure this specific warhammer would work.

With Jaune's sisters, I could see any of the younger ones deciding to get involved with big brother's adventures, especially the one who had a fangirl reaction to meeting Gizmoduck, and I actually would have a lot of fun with that, oh and since Nora is one of Jaune's closest friends I could also see her being like "oh hammer nice :D" and copycatting Nora, which would be extremely cute, and oh fuck I might be talking myself into bringing in Jaune's sister whoops. But again, not this hammer.

June, we already have weapon-related plans for, and those are super cute and I love them and can't wait to start working them in. I think they also work better for the directions we're taking June's character, whereas a hammer would just be a left field option that would be fine in a vacuum, but just not work as well as what we have planned.

Skittles we have some vague plans for (by which I mean, I sent Hayley a screenshot of some tags he used referencing an idea and went "this would be fun!" and he was all "yeah :O" so like. We'll see where that goes), and a hammer wouldn't be incompatible, but it would also still be just a little bit too left-field to be seamless and organic as a development.

Which brings us to Violet. Violet:

Doesn't have a signature weapon

but does have weapon's training

and is scarily competent with physical endeavors

while being way tougher than she looks, and

is purple.

And also could probably read the runes.

Which means she fits ALL of my criteria for who I would vote to give a giant magical warhammer with glowing purple runes to, if we were to decide to bring one into the story for whatever reason.

[renzu-valra]

Soulless/Heartless ; Parasitic/Perversion (#5)

Characters: Nobushige/Ietasu  ♦  Region: Doma/Redacted  ♦   Time: 15;1 Year(s) ago Hosted by: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​

He rarely stayed the night…yet the very few times he did, he seemed almost sick.

Like when my brother came down with a cold and acted frustrated as he rubbed at his nose. When his body quaked with abnormal shivers and he needed more food than usual.

Only, the Xaela sleeping before me wasn’t riddled with congestion or hot fever. Ietasu acted no differently than normal when he had been awake, however now that he was laying down asleep, he twitched and mumbled as if something was wrong. I was curious. If it was a nightmare, then would giving him a reassuring pat on the head work the same as it did for Nozaki?

The few times in which my brother had fallen ill…he told me that he recovered only because of my smiling face. Would it be the same for Ietasu too?

“Hmm…” I hummed in quiet thought.

Sitting behind Ietasu’s head, I rationed otherwise. He was nothing like my brother. He only seemed to be motivated by acts of self-betterment. Touch likely wouldn’t do anything for him. Nor would my smile. But right now, he was sleeping. It wasn’t as though I could show him how far I had gotten in the book he gave me nor could I impress him with how well I was learning how to write. And yet, I knew I had to do something for him. I needed him, after all. Whilst my brother was getting rather adept at finding us food, Ietasu was far more skilled at securing us both resources and rations. He also knew how to tend to the many injuries my brother often came home with.

If one day Ietasu had no incentive to leave and find work—nor to come back after he was done…I knew we wouldn’t last very long on our own. That was where I came in. That was my role to play here—not just for him, but for my brother as well. I had to keep them both sufficiently inspired to provide for me. To go out and face the world they thought so evil every day. To ensure that this place which kept me protected from it all was always considered someplace safe in their eyes.

There weren’t many options for me to choose from though. Ietasu surely wouldn’t appreciate me touching him, but at the moment, there was nothing else which came to mind. Until, I thought about it again and made to reach out for the dictionary he gave me long ago. It was the very first book he ever brought back. It was the only book I ever had until just recently, actually. I remembered that he used to praise me whenever I read out a word correctly when I was even smaller than I am now. Perhaps this would help to settle him down instead.

 ----

 “Benighted –

– In a state of pitiful or contemptible intellectual or moral ignorance, typically owing to a lack of opportunity.”

My wrists shook with unwilling voracity. They wanted to contort themselves in all manners of uncomfortable positions, and yet my brain fought the urge. I was getting better at this, I thought. I had been getting better at this, at least…

At…supressing the urge to fight back.

I couldn’t think about wanting to kill the very person who allowed me to give that child comfort. No matter how much I hated it, I couldn’t dare allow myself the chance to think that I had any capacity for violence. I couldn’t fight back. And that’s why my wrists vibrated with a controlled rage. Even if he made me touch him, I bit back the want to press my nails into his flesh.

One day, it’d truly break me. My mind would be rendered blank and empty. My consciousness repeated that known reality over and over again in my head as if it’d make the desire to strive for freedom ever stronger.

But no matter what, I’d never give into it.

“Benign –“

By surrendering completely to this fate of mine, I would still be paving the road for something better. I would be…giving freedom to another. In that tiny child I placed all of my hopes and ambitions. All my knowledge and skills…all of me. If by denying my heart its troublesome beat meant that he could escape this place and live happily then it would all be worth it.

I could find peace in this eroding darkness simply by giving way to that one thought.

I would let myself mean nothing…so that he can grow to become everything.

“Benevolent –“

Ultimately, I was afraid. My body was getting older and with it, I knew I would have to find others to rely on for sustenance. He was swiftly becoming more disinterested in me, and before long he’d see me as nothing more than a pitiful charity case he’d happily slam the door on. It would be dangerous, but I couldn’t let that fear stop me. I had to shut it off. Make those grim thought disappear before they too began to eat away at my mind.

I had to live. I had no other choice.

Every day I grew a step closer to the person I wanted most to be. An empty, hollow husk. A shadow, hidden in the darkness and without a heart. Something that could scarcely even be considered a person.

A thing.

All my person-esque traits passed onto someone else far more deserving.

It had to be this way. It was the only thing that gave me purpose. My reason to live.

 ----

 Rare were the nights in which he went out, save at my request. His guilt serving as both cage and key.

Ever since that incident, I had been confined to my bed—but so long as he continued to serve me, I lamented the freedom none. My body was still too weak to function normally. Yet even if I was able to stand and care for myself, I knew he wouldn’t permit it. Not when he knew so intimately what it meant mine doing.

Years back, when I was a child…I never would’ve considered Ietasu to be one to coddle. However, he has recently proven my assumption wrong. And the reason behind it? It was rather simple. He knew that he had failed me gravely and that there was nothing he could do to fix it. All he could do…was delay the inevitable.

A part of me reached the conclusion that he needed to be coddled in due turn. That he couldn’t possibly go on like this and that it would be morally rude to not show him affection. But the other part of me knew that he wanted anything but. He was something which lacked the key-traits any other person should have. He wanted to be treated as if he was worth nothing at all. If I showed him any compassion, he would likely shatter into pieces before me.

That wasn’t to say he was a fragile person. No, anything but. It was merely a power unique to me alone. At any moment, with naught but a single touch of my hand…I could easily destroy him. Because I was his everything. And he could never forgive himself if I so much as thought of him as something deserving of my consideration.

All I could do was continue taking more and more from him. Until naught remained but a shard of bone. To give him anything in return would be disingenuous and inexcusably cruel.

And yet I worried. One day…I knew that he would leave me and never return. That by no fault of my own, I would lose him and he would begin to change and move on with his life. I worried only because I knew naught the true depths of my heart. It would be right to let him do so. I knew that. At the same time however, I wanted to call out to him and touch him with my hand. Breaking him…and keeping him by my side forever.

He belonged to me. Why should I let him go?

Because it was the right thing to do?

Because freedom is so wonderful a thing?

Is it really, though?

Isn’t…belonging to another, completely and perfectly…even more beautiful than being free?

 ----

 Loving someone—there couldn’t be anything more painful than that. If only I had snuffed those initial feelings out the moment they were realized, none of this would’ve ever happened. Nobushige would’ve had a future, and I wouldn’t have to blame myself for being the one who took it away.

Whilst there was much and more that I had done wrong besides, ‘love’ was no doubt the worst of my crimes. Even though it was only for a brief period of time, the wounds left behind would never close. They would ache and stretch wider so as to accommodate every new sin I was made to endure. This was to be my punishment and tribute.

I had to protect him from becoming even further tarnished. That he lost his eyes and subsequent life to the spirit now living in his heart was no one’s fault but my own. If I could save what remained of his innocence by hunting for him now, then at the very least he wouldn’t lose his way. He would still be the same boy I provided for since he was but an infant. The given meal now very different from plain bread and water.

As he slept, I watched over him. His breathing was slow and infrequent—his skin turning whiter by the day. It wouldn't be long until his insides were reduced to waste. Knowing how the same spirit which infected him now affected Shinza, I was not unfamiliar with seeing him in such a state. The difference between the two men being that for one, I took full responsibility for, and the other was wholly independent. Shinza had the ability to take care of his own needs, and Nobushige did not. Rather, that I wouldn’t allow him to in understanding that it would prove I failed him utterly from the very beginning.

What he required now however, was out of the question. I only had to work harder to help him regain a modicum of strength. If it meant I had to take more lives in order to prevent ‘that’ from happening, I would have to do whatever it took.

Looking upon his white face, I understood why exactly Nozaki tried to fight me so hard when it came to keeping him weak and ignorant. If for any reason I became unable to tend to his every need, he…had the option of helping himself. What would he become if he did…? Would he still look this pure and gentle? I didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

He should just stay as he is now. Sleeping and unaware. That would be for the best.

I thought about pulling the covers up to his shoulders as time had brought them down some. And yet the moment my hand came close to touching his chest, I stopped.

[iknikblackstonevarrick]

Red Lightning (Part 3)

(Part 1) (Part 2)

---

Lucretia looked through the bars at her friend with grim contemplation.

She had disarmed Lup and moved her from the floor to the thin mattress provided inside her cell, and was now simply waiting for her to wake up, and considering what she would do when she did.

Giving her a similar position to Davenport was out of the question. Redacted or not, the boys would notice the woman’s striking similarity to Taako. She could find something for her in the bowels of the facility, out of sight of the Reclaimers, but even then, the risk-

“Hey?”

Lucretia jumped and struck her staff on the ground in surprise. Lup had risen to her elbows while still prone on the bed, and was looking at Lucretia with decreasing grogginess.

“Are you- in charge here?” she asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, “Cause whatever I did to get in here- okay, I was /definitely/ framed, first of all, and also like super drunk. Like I don’t even remember anything that happened…” she looked to the side, “Basically ever, right now? I must have partied /real/ hard last night but anyways, the point is I’m innocent and also I don’t think you can legally keep me here without telling me what I’m in for.”

Lup was about a foot in front of the bars now, holding her hands out in front of her where she’d been gesturing. Lucretia stared at her.

“You can talk,” she got out flatly.

Lup blinked at her, then snorted. “I- Yeah??” She looked around herself. “Why- Was I that out of it whenever- whatever happened?”

Lucretia stood there, marveling at how she could have taken so much from their Captain unintentionally whilst not inflicting the same on her friend when she intentionally tried to erase her existence. It was a relief, obviously- she hadn’t wanted to reduce Lup to the sound of her own name, but she had expected it, accepted it as a necessity, and planned around it. Now-

She checked the lock on her cell to make sure she hadn’t left it open in her indecision. There would be no moving her from this spot now that she still had her wits about her. As much as it pained Lucretia, she could not allow her friend to roam free if there was any possibility she might resume interfering with her mission.

“What’s happening?” she asked, looking worriedly at Lucretia’s hand as she secured the padlock and then tapped her staff to the ground, reinforcing the magical barriers around the cell as well. “You- you have to tell me what you think I did.”

Lucretia looked levelly into her eyes. “You have done something- horrible. Unspeakable. Even if you… didn’t mean for it to be. What’s done is still done. And you will remain here until- Until I decide those crimes have been repented for.”

Lup opened her mouth to argue. Then, before she could, Lucretia saw some unknown thought enter her eyes, and then some of the light dimmed from them.

She waited, watching the grim, zoned-out look on her friend’s face for only a moment longer before she turned on heel and exited into the elevator.

*

“Taako?”

Lup blinked, turning to the source of the voice- a halfling man, poking his small head through the bars of the cell next to hers to get a look.

“Nope,” she said flatly.

“Oh, sorry,” the halfling said. “I could have sworn he has that skirt.” He tilted his head. “And that face?”

She sighed. “It’s Lup,” she introduced herself curtly, hoping it would change the subject. She didn’t know who this ‘Taako’ person was, but getting mistaken for a man was one of the few things that could make today worse.

“Oooohh, sorry sorry sorry, cool cool cool,” the halfling man said, nodding. “My name’s Robbie, but my old roommates called me Pringles.”

“Why?” she asked.

Pringles tugged on his shirt collar. “I have a deficiency.”

Lup pursed her lips and let her head fall back onto the stiff pillow. She didn’t know how long she’d been in the pokey, but it couldn’t have been too long, because everything in the room seemed brand new and unused.

“So what’re you in for, Pringles?” she asked.

“Uuh,” he drawled, “Espionage, I guess? Except I didn’t do it, like, intentionally. Maybe an accessory to espionage? A vessel?”

“Huh,” she said. “So you like, accidentally let in a spy?”

“I… guess it was something like that,” he said. “I don’t actually remember most of it. What about you?”

Lup stared at the gray-blue ceiling of her cell.

“I think I killed someone,” she said, still not looking at her cellmate.

“Oh,” Pringles answered, sounding unimpressed. “Well, that’s kinda like, the adventuring MO. Not your fault you ran amok of someone with arrest powers.”

She didn’t even catch his comment about the moon. She continued staring hard at the silvery blue of her cell.

“I think I killed someone I loved.”

Pringles blinked a few times. Then most of his face was no longer visible, it seemed like he’d changed the stance he was standing at.

“Oh,” was all he said. It was a long few moments before she heard him pad quietly over to the bed of his cell and hop on with a creak.

*

Lup had the same dream every night.

No matter what she did, how she ate, when she slept, however many of her limited options she explored, it was always the same. If she tried trancing, the memory would still play through her head relentlessly, almost more real than if she just went to sleep. If it weren’t for the companionship of her odd but chill jail-mate, she might think she was living the same day over again.

She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was a memory. The only memory she had of anywhere outside this cell. Anywhere /outside/ at all. She wouldn’t know what the sky looked like, blinding blue with puffy white clouds and streaming golden light, without this memory.

She doesn't know why, but she’d expected it to look different.

*

You were in the sky. The clouds around you were close enough to touch, and the green below you was so, so distant. You could only see it over the silver rails of this- ship. You were on a ship, a boat, by the looks of it. Why was it in the sky?

Every time, before you had the chance to wonder this any further, you locked eyes with the figure sitting on the railing. No, you realized. He wasn’t sitting. He was bent over it at an odd angle, half of him dangling off the edge like he’d just been blown to that point by force.

He was wearing glasses. They were cracked.

You had no idea who this man was, but when you felt his gaze, saw his weathered human face, looked over his faded old blue jeans, you felt like you were home. You felt safe, and loved, and warm.

That warmth boiled over into the heat of panic when you noticed the blood pouring from this man’s stomach. Suddenly it felt like the world was burning around you, and you wanted to go to him, but you couldn’t. Your body felt frozen, your mind felt like it was full of cotton. No. Of static.

You met the man’s gaze again because that’s all you could do. You felt your knees going weak.

The man smiled at you with love and sorrow and-

He fell. He fell all the way over the railing, and you felt yourself moving, felt something warm and wet on your cheek-

And you wake up, gasping, and touch the tears streaming down your face. Every morning. You call it morning because you do not go back to sleep after this, but the fantasy fluorescent lights of your cell have not yet come up.

Every morning, without reprieve, as you lower your hand from your tear-streaked face, you see the smallest strokes of red lightning glowing between your fingers in the darkness.

***

“Where is she?”

Barry Bluejeans looked down at his three best friends in their red nullsuits. He had come here to warn them- to use the cosmoscope this kid had created, to try to explain with visuals instead of words and see if that could get through to them.

But there were only three of them. For whatever reason, Lup hadn’t come along on this mission. At first, he’d assumed she was a part of the party they said they’d been separated from, but now they were reunited, and still no Lup.

He probably should have waited to ask. There was probably a fine explanation- maybe Lucretia had wanted to keep a reclaimer in reserve for if this place went up in crystal? Sure, that made enough sense. He almost moved on to another question, but his nonexistent stomach dropped when he got his answer.

“Who?”

“Taako-” he’d be furrowing his brow if he could. It was immediately apparent to him that this wasn’t a goof. He knew Taako well enough for that.

“Taako, your-” dread was welling up in him. “Your sister. Your sister, Lup, Taako, where is she?”

“Oof,” Taako tilted his head. “Don’t got one of those, buddy. You must have the wrong T-a-a-ko.”

“No,” he said. He floated closer, and Taako raised-

The umbrella. He had Lup’s Umbrastaff with him.

“You have to know,” he said, and he could feel necrotic energy arcing off of him like electricity. “You have to know where- you have to know who she is. She only erases people when they’re-”

And suddenly, his energy calmed. He floated placidly in front of Taako, wide-eyed and weapon drawn.

He felt relieved. And then guilty for it. If Lucretia had erased her, that meant she was dead. But that also meant she was out here somewhere as a lich. Memories intact. Finally.

He melted away from the crystal laboratory and resumed time as he reappeared in his cave. He pulled out a drawer to his desk and filled up an old scrying bowl he used to use to keep tabs on everyone when he didn’t feel safe enough to go outside.

When the image in the bowl came into view, there was no phantasmal, resplendent figure of light and magic. Instead, there was a living mortal figure lying on a bed, sleeping restlessly, what he recognized as energy from her lich form arcing out through her hands in response to whatever Emotion was enveloping her dream.

“Oh,” he said aloud. Not disappointed. Determined.

Zooming out, he could see the bars of a cell, and even further, the outline of the floating headquarters of the Bureau of Balance. He shut the drawer and turned towards the map he had laid out on the desk itself.

The body cooking in his pod wasn't quite done yet. That was fine. He’d prefer not to burn it now, anyways. He’d find his own way up to the Bureau again, holy symbol be damned.

[tuanhood]

35,000 ft

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: smut, angst, some fluff?, exes to lovers

warnings: 18+, language, dirty talk, cheating, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, public sex (mile high club ALERT)

word count: 9,800+

summary: two years have passed since you last saw your ex-boyfriend. when you’ve thought about running into him again, it certainly wasn’t at 35,000 ft and it certainly wasn’t like this. 

a/n: wow my longest one shot yet... UMMM it’s a little messy and all over the place but don’t hesitate to let me know what you think or if anyone wants to cry over the photos of Mark at home playing in the pool sMH. also i do not CONDONE cheating fyI 

part 2: 125 ft

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

“Yes, yes, yes I’ll call you when I land…” You mumbled through the phone, half paying attention and half trying to decide which sandwich would best suit your needs. 

“Okay but seriously… call me. I hate it when you’re over there enough so not getting a call freaks me out even more.” 

You wanted to roll your eyes and gag, but you stopped yourself knowing that it wasn’t what a typical girlfriend would do when on the phone with her boyfriend. You two were supposed to still be in the honeymoon phase, not the “he gives me the ick” phase already. 

Then again, you had never even been in the “he gives me the ick” phase before. Yay for new experiences you guessed. 

“Brian, it’s so fine. It’s one of the safest cities in the world, I’ve been so many times I don’t even need a map to tell me where I’m going.” 

“I hope you still do though… Use a map. I don’t want you to get lost and I know that’s easy to do in those modern, technologically advanced smart cities.”

Being with Brian sometimes felt like there wasn’t even a fourth wave of feminism. 

You weren’t sure why you were sticking around. Part of you felt pressured because you hadn’t had any actual relationships in… well awhile and your mom was constantly asking when you were finally going to get a ring on your finger and give her a grandchild. 

Judging by all the outside influences that were currently controlling your life, it felt like maybe there isn’t a fourth wave of feminism. You were setting everyone back just based on your own sad life. Maybe it was best to just dump Brian and go back to your hook up days, the year and a half before him that was just endless amounts of sex with random guys trying to fix a piece of you that would never be put back together. 

“Y/n? Are you still there?” 

“Yup, still here Brian.” 

Even after being together for almost 6 months you couldn’t bring it in you to call him something besides his name. It was always Brian this, Brian that. Calling him a pet name made you cringe. 

Yeah… Maybe it was definitely time to break up with him. 

“Listen… I should go. I want to get something to eat before they start boarding since it’s a long one and all.” 

But you’ll just do it later. 

“Okay… sounds good. Get a small sandwich or something so you’ll feel full enough before they actually feed you on the plane.” 

Suddenly you didn’t want a sandwich. 

“Got it… Bye.” 

“Love you, bye.” 

You hear a noise letting you know the call has been disconnected and drop your hand, gripping the device at your side. 

That was another thing. Brian had told you only 3 months of dating that he loved you – to which you had responded with “oh wow… that’s- that’s… so nice of you.” Being the nice guy, he was completely fine with you not saying it back, because he felt so sure that one day you would. He understood that you had issues with a past relationship that you weren’t quite ready to let go of yet, therefore your heart wasn’t completely available. He felt with time you would give in and love him too. 

As of now you weren’t too sure… Especially if you did end up breaking up with him. At a later date and time of course. Maybe when you came back? 

Your mind went blank as you looked at the shelves of the poorly made airport food in front of you. The sandwiches that had once looked good and enticing suddenly lost their luster and the last thing you wanted to do was waste money on one. Sighing, you glanced back down at the phone in your hand. The object felt more like a heavy weight and a burden rather than just a phone. It wasn’t due to work or family; it was just all because of Brian. 

You’re startled when your phone comes to life once again under your gaze, buzzing softly. 

Brian. Remember don’t forget to text me when you board! 

It was like he had a sixth sense for whenever you were thinking of him. And to be honest it wasn’t that often. 

A couple of weeks ago you were out to lunch with a few friends from college and when updating those who you hadn’t seen in a while on the goings-on of your life, you had at first redacted the fact that you had a boyfriend completely. 

“Anyone romantic in your life?” Your friend Alice had asked you. 

Without thinking you had begun telling her how he was in game design and was from LA just like you, but soon cut yourself off before you could talk about how cute his dog was. That’s when you realized you weren’t talking about Brian. Brian was in fucking accounting, not game design and was 100% allergic to any kind of animal. When your friend asked about your love life, you had him in mind and not Brian even though so much time had gone by.

You were starting to believe that you weren’t ready for a relationship at all.

Sighing, you figured that maybe chips would be a better and less smelly option for the plane ride. Knowing yourself you would probably dig into them within the first thirty minutes of the thirteen-hour trip. 

You whip around to find wherever your newly desired snack choice could be when you catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of your eye. The goosebumps that make their way to the surface of your skin and the hair on the back of your neck standing up so eagerly causes your entire body to freeze with fear. There was only one person who made you feel this way, one person who made your blood run cold. The person you had just indirectly been thinking of.

No, no it couldn’t be. 

You’re afraid to turn around, because more than anything you don’t want to be right. If you felt stressed thinking about Brian, you were going to have a panic attack from seeing him. Pivoting yourself to the left, you bite your lip anxiously unsure of how you’re supposed to react if you are right. Taking in the sight behind you, you’re met with a father and daughter selecting candy from the shelves of the store. The individual causing your anxiety nowhere in sight. Your entire body relaxes. 

The last thing you wanted was a fiasco in the international terminal at LAX. It certainly wouldn’t do you, your family and your company any good to make headlines. It especially wouldn’t have made Brian happy; he probably would have called you a hundred times in worry. 

“I can’t fucking believe it.” 

And just like that you’re snapped out of your daze, your false security vanished, goosebumps emerging once again. This time there were no questions. That voice. It was him. 

Turning back around you find yourself under the gaze of your ex-boyfriend. Your ex-boyfriend who you haven’t seen in over two years. 

You wish you could say that time hadn’t been good to Mark, but that would be a bold-faced lie. He had somehow become even more attractive in the last two years and the only real thing that seemed different about him was his hair color. The last time you had seen him he had been blonde, but now he had opted for a dark brown color. As much as you hated thinking it, it definitely suited him.

The last two years felt like a long blur of trying to forget him and everything or everyone associated with him. Those were of course difficult things to do, many of the people in your shared three-year life with Mark becoming some of your closest allies and the fact that Mark wasn’t an easy person to erase. Since the two of you met – even when you were just friends – you had a magnetic like pull to one another that couldn’t just be forgotten and dismissed. You were even feeling it right now after everything. 

He’s wearing a tight smile, almost as if he too can’t believe you’re standing here in front of him. It was as though you were the one inconveniencing him, when he had been the one to even say something to you. If you had seen him first, you would have turned around and ran the other way pretending like it never happened. For some reason he was willing to acknowledge you. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” his tight smile soon fades away and his voice is smooth as ice, a nonchalance to it that makes you question whether he even cares about this run in.

“Me either. Good to see you… Now if you’ll excuse me…” You replied pushing past him to continue your previous task of looking for chips. Much to your dislike, he follows you as you embark on one of the aisles, your eyes scanning the items placed out oh so carefully. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I’ve been? What I’ve been up to?” 

The last you had heard of Mark was that he had moved to Beijing after being given a position at a video game development company. At first you had been surprised at Mark taking a job overseas, he had always expressed to you how even over his own dead body he would never leave LA, but ultimately him in China relieved you. No longer did you have to avoid your favorite spots in the city for boba or the park bench where you got most of you best thinking done. You didn’t even have to be worried about getting invited to a party or dinner with a friend, wondering if Mark was going to show up. With Mark gone you could freely have your life back and not walk around with the fear of running into him. But you guessed that it could only have lasted so long before fate – as cruel as she was – brought you two together again. 

“No that’s okay. I’m good,” you go down another aisle, he still follows suit.

Where were those damn chips? 

“If you’re looking for the chips, they’re over there,” he said pointing behind you to the back wall in a location that you should have noticed sooner, “and if you want your favorite brand of salt & vinegar chips, they’re on the bottom shelf.”

Your stomach churned, he thought after all this time he would be able to still just know you like the back of his hand? What snack you’re looking for? What chips you like? No way. 

Wordlessly you march to the back and stare at the shelves in front of you. You felt your hand dangerously moving forward to the bottom to grab the salt & vinegar chips Mark mentioned, but you control yourself and pull back not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Instead you opt for plainly salted kettle chips. 

“Thanks… you’ve been a big help. See you never,” you scoffed turning around to face him and pushing past him to pay for your item, leaving Mark in the dust behind you. 

“What you’re not going to even pretend that it’s nice to see me?” 

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” you practically spat at him, the father and daughter from earlier staring at the two you, the father particularly appalled for your colorful choice of language. 

Mark’s silent and you turn back to the self-checkout to scan your chips, hopeful to not think about your ex-boyfriend for the next thirteen hours. He watches you carefully as you take out your wallet to pay and tap your card against the reader. It isn’t difficult for him to sense the tension in your body, he can see it just from you performing the simple and mundane task of paying. The worst part is that he knows he’s the cause. 

Grabbing your snack, you exit the small store and Mark follows you, grabbing your wrist, he tries again, “you could say something nice? Like you care? It’s been two years y/n… Can’t we just be normal people with each other?” 

At this you feel something in you snap, “I don’t care how much time has fucking passed Mark… I’m never going to get over you just completely throwing our relationship out the window. I can’t believe I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with you… I was so fucking dumb to think you cared about me for even one minute. So, to answer your question… no we can’t just be normal people with each other. We were never normal people with each other to begin with.” 

The two of you had started off as friends, just friends. It was something new for Mark, being just friends with a girl and not having sex attached. Many people in your life warned you not to get close to him, that he was just a fuckboy who didn’t care about the emotional – it was only the physical with him. Ultimately you ignored him, becoming his friend and finding that you two just worked together. First you worked together as friends and soon you fell under his Mark Tuan spell, working together as lovers. 

Throughout your entire relationship you did your best to trust Mark, which you accomplished for the most part, but in the back of your head you would constantly hear the voices of everyone around you. You would hear the stories of the girls he had before you and how terribly he treated them, but you ignored it all. After a while you started to think of it all a little less, people even congratulating you on lasting so long with Mark – something that tended to annoy you. You knew that they didn’t see the Mark that you knew, the Mark that wanted to be something else for you, the best for you. Then after three years together, almost a month after your anniversary, you found out he had been with someone else. 

The old Mark had perhaps never truly vanished, but was just immensely good at hiding. 

Now here you were in front of him and you couldn’t tell who this Mark was. 

Mark scoffed, “you haven’t changed at all…” Now he was mad at you? “It’s probably better we just say goodbye here.” 

You rolled your eyes, “That’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time.” 

He wanted to say more, but looking at how annoyed you were at merely being close to him, he let it go. It was hard for him to understand how he was feeling. He longed for you, but he also felt a lot of anger towards you that he wasn’t sure how to control. 

Both of you stare at one another, neither of you wanting to be the first one to walk off. Without a word, you both collect yourselves and assumedly prepare to embark on your respective gates. Mark gives you a final glance with his fists now clenched in frustration and turns to walk toward his flight. 

You realize he’s going the same direction as you and you follow awkwardly behind. After a moment – as if he can sense you’re still there – he turns around and scowls at you. 

“Why are you following me?” 

You snorted, the actual audacity of Mark Tuan. This is an airport for fuckssake, you can’t control where your flight is, “as if I would ever follow you! I’m going to my gate! I think the better question is why are you following me?”

“I’m going to my gate!” 

“Okay!” You yell a little too loud, “Okay!” he repeated, matching your volume. You can sense that people are starting to stare at the two of you for your truly unprompted yelling. 

Mark looks back at you once again, rolling his eyes. The two of you may have gates in the same area, but you can’t stand to look at him any longer – much less his back which you couldn’t help but notice has become much broader. Not that you would admit it to him… or anyone. 

You pick up your pace, passing Mark and causing him to trail behind. You expect him to say some snarky remark or rude comment when you go in front of him, but instead all you hear is an annoyed groan. It’s when you finally reach your gate and sit down in the waiting area that you feel Mark is no longer right behind you, but instead frozen in the main concourse, in front of the space you’re seated in. He feels his mouth go dry and he wants to scream. All he wants is to just be rid of you, to not be forced to think of you when you’re right in front of him. He wanted to wipe his brain clean. 

It suddenly dawns you on the reason why Mark is frozen as if he can’t comprehend what he’s seeing. You stand up abruptly, “this can’t be happening.” 

He snaps out of his trance with your words and comes closer to the gate, approaching where you’re seated. You’re just about to wave your hands, warning him not to come any closer when he huffs and sits down on a chair only few away from your own. 

“You’re going to Seoul?” He says it as if you being allowed in the Korean peninsula is a disgusting idea. 

“I’ve been traveling between LA and Seoul every 2 months for the last year and a half, so yes I am. Aren’t you supposed to be going to Beijing or something?”

He smirked, “I thought you didn’t care about what I was up to?” 

“I only care if it assures that you’re as far away from me as humanely possible.”

Your ex looks at his watch and at the screen of the gate alerting passengers that boarding would begin in a few minutes, “well since you’re so curious. I didn’t like Beijing, so I found a job in Seoul that I like much better. 

“Didn’t want to come back to LA?” 

He looks back to you and you almost wish he hadn’t, “there’s not really a lot left in LA for me anymore.” 

Both of you stare at one another for a moment, and you feel your stomach flip. Does he mean what I think he means? Your eyes drift down to your lap and you feel yourself pulling out your phone, not needing any more Mark. 

You manage to pass 10 minutes this way, aimlessly refreshing your emails and ignoring Brian’s latest text asking if you’ve boarded yet. Being so engrossed in your phone, you didn’t even notice Mark’s constant glances up at you, wondering what you were looking at or who you were talking to. 

There it is again, he thought to himself, Do I care? Do I not care? What the fuck, make up your mind dude. 

When the call for First-Class boarding comes to your dismay, both you and Mark stand up. You try to just tell yourself that it’s not important, you would probably both be seated aisles apart, not having to spend any more unwarranted time together. 

Even when you’re finally on the plane and find yourself behind him once again in the aisle, you tell yourself that this will be the last moment you have to see Mark Tuan. 

“Here’s your seat sir, can I get you any drinks or snacks before take-off?” the flight attendant asked Mark when she shows him his seat. He gives this shit eating grin that makes you want to slap it off his face, you couldn’t believe he was doing this in front of you. What? Did he think he was going to get to fuck the flight attendant as an extra First-Class amenity? 

“Ah no thank you, I’m fine for now, but I’ll let you know if anything changes,” you feel awkward standing in the aisle watching this unfold, especially since you can see the attendant is giving in, blush creeping up on her face from Mark’s smooth gaze. You clear your throat, reminding her that you too are there and she quickly turns to you, an apologetic look on her face. 

“And here's your seat Miss,” she graciously steps back to let you slide into your seat and you don’t move.

This had to be a joke. 

You looked from your seat, to Mark’s and then to the flight attendant. 

“I can’t sit here... I’m sorry but there has to be another seat available.” 

“I’m sorry ma’am, but there are no other openings in First Class. We only have seats available back in economy.” 

This couldn’t be happening. You had been saving all of your miles for a First-Class upgrade for forever, there was no way you were going to give it up, “Mark move to coach.” 

“Huh? Are you joking? My company paid for this; I’m not moving back there! You move!” 

How were you supposed to sit in front of Mark Tuan for the next thirteen hours? The man who had loved you so deeply, but also caused you the most pain. 

Just as people had stared at the two of you in the terminal, the other passengers in your surrounding area were also beginning to look. Maybe if the two of you got into one of your notorious screaming matches, someone would feel bad enough and offer to trade. You couldn’t do that to someone, you wouldn’t wish being stuck next to Mark Tuan on a long-haul flight on your worst enemy. Well… Mark was your worst enemy. 

Smiling, you turn back to the flight attendant, “It’s fine… I’ll just stay here. Thank you though.” She gives you a smile, but you can sense some annoyance behind her eyes. You can’t blame her. 

Mark looks at you wide eyed, previously caught up in organizing his space, but snapping out his activities when he hears your dismissal about moving seats, “uh… what are you doing? Are you seriously going to sit here?” 

“Yes Mark. Unlike you, I paid for my seat so I’m not moving anywhere.” 

He scoffed, “Fine.” 

“Fine!” 

-- 

hour one 

“Ma’am could you tell the gentleman in 3A to stop chewing so loudly?” You asked the flight attendant, putting on the sweetest voice possible. Mark was driving you up the wall and you were only an hour into the flight. 

It was almost as though you could hear every single cough, every shifting in his seat and it was all driving you up the wall. Just knowing he was there irked you.

The flight attendant looks clueless and as she opens her mouth slowly, unsure of how to respond. You hear Mark’s low voice grumble from behind you, also addressing the attendant, “uh ma’am can you tell the lady in 2A to mind her own business, pop a xanny and just go to sleep?” 

She clearly wasn’t expecting to deal with any difficult passengers this early on in a thirteen-hour flight. For her sake you wish you could deal with Mark and be more civil, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen. 

hour three 

“Y/n…” 

Be strong, you tell yourself, don’t look back, you can get through this.  

“Y/n?” 

It’s probably not important… He just wants to annoy you. 

“Y/n!” 

Screw being strong. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Being in semi-pods in First-Class it was difficult to just whip around and face Mark, to show him your annoyance under the lights beginning to dim. 

“Do you have any extra AirPods?” 

“Why the fuck would I just carry around extra Airpods around with me? Are you an idiot?” You sneered. 

“Jesus Christ I was just asking. You don’t have to be so vicious. Maybe someone should fuck the tension out of you,” he said, mumbling the last part. He says it so quietly and so half assed that you almost think that you misheard him. 

“Choke on a dick Mark,” you replied quietly, not wanting the other passengers to hear or disturb the few who had already drifted asleep. 

He scoffed, “maybe you should be.” 

You were wrong, the Mark that you had reunited with was just the same old fuckboy Mark who didn’t give a fuck about anyone. 

Placing your AirPods in your ears, you close your eyes and ignore the rest of Mark’s efforts to speak to you, just wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up in your hotel room in Seoul. 

hour seven 

You pop your headphones out of your ears in frustration, feeling as though you hadn’t managed to get any real sleep during the hours that had passed. You look behind you to Mark’s seat, and feel relieved to see his eyes closed and a slow, shallow breath coming from his mouth. 

It felt weird to gaze at Mark and know you were no longer apart of his life. Sure, it had been two years, but you hadn’t seen  him or had to deal with the reality that there was now a separate you and a separate Mark. Two entities that had nothing to do with one another anymore. Although sometimes it felt like you were still anchored to him. 

Suddenly he shifted over onto his side, mumbling incoherent words in his sleep. The only thing you could make out was your own name. It made you feel uncomfortable, not because he was clearly dreaming about you, but you felt as though you were invading his private space, infiltrating an intimate moment. 

“y/n… please…” he mumbled. 

You felt like you’d heard enough. The flight was making you restless and you weren’t sure what you would do if you kept listening to Mark’s breathless calls for you. Standing up, you decide it’s probably best now to stretch and go to the bathroom, before you embark on your further slumber. 

When you finish up in the bathroom, you almost have a heart attack pulling back the door to be met with Mark’s tall figure.

“Oh my god you scared me,” you said placing your hand on your chest. You shake your head, stepping out of the bathroom with the door closing firmly behind you. Attempting to go back to your seat, you position yourself to move past him, but he moves along with you to keep you from leaving.

“What are you doing?” 

Mark doesn’t know what’s taken over him, he had woken up in a frenzy, his dreams not doing anything to help his mental state. He hadn’t dreamt about you in months, but of course as soon as you’re back in his life he has to have fantasies of you wrapped around him once again. It was torturous, especially with you only a few feet away from him. He dreamed about having you every way and any way, feeling like he was going crazy. When he saw you missing from your seat, he immediately got up almost as if in a sleep induced haze unable to control his actions.

"When are you going to stop pretending that you don’t want to be under me again?” he purred.

Your blood goes cold. Was he drunk? His words make you nervous, scared that someone could hear, but looking around the dark cabin it seemed as though everyone in First-Class was fast asleep. 

“Mark…” you begin, your tone clearly frustrated, but also weakening a bit, clearly evident that his words are affecting you. It had been so long since someone talked to you like this, and you felt that the hours you had spent on the plane already altering your sanity.

“You were always such a good girl for me, what changed? When did you become so stubborn? What happened to my girl who was always so willing and sweet?” 

“I was screwed over by an asshole, that’s what happened,” you mumbled trying to avert his gaze and prayed that maybe if you weren’t to look at him you could pretend that there wasn’t a part of you hanging on his every word. 

“That was in the past. I’ve changed now… But I’m still your boy. Even after two fucking years, I’m still yours.” 

You want to fight with him, say that if he was always your boy and still is then he would have never cheated on you. He would have never spent a night with someone else.  

“Let me fuck the anger out of you.” 

“What?” Okay he had to be drunk.

“You and I have too much sexual tension, and we’re both angry so let’s just fuck to relieve the tension.” 

“You’ve said some pretty fucking dumb things before, but this is… this is…” you drift unsure of what exactly you think it is. 

“A good idea?” 

“Mark I’m not having sex with you in an airplane bathroom.” 

“What? Like that’s bothered you before?” 

When you were with Mark, the two of you would have sex in the riskiest places, so you weren’t a stranger to the kind of sex where you could be caught at any moment, but you had never joined the mile-high club before. 

“We’re not together. I hate you and you hate me… for some reason.” You never understood why exactly Mark had been mad at you all of these years and acted as though you were the devil himself when he had been the one that ruined the two of you. Maybe it was because you hadn’t given him a second chance? Maybe it was from the influence of you hating him? Or maybe it was because you had never been enough for him, otherwise what would have caused him to spend the night with another woman? 

Mark clicked his tongue and it causes you to bring your attention to his mouth. It almost makes you lose focus completely. “So what if we’re not together anymore? Does that matter?” 

Does that matter? 

His words make you remember something. Something very important. 

Brian. 

“Yes, it matters. I-I have a boyfriend,” for some reason the word “boyfriend” seems to be hard to get out. It was always weird to associate Brian as your boyfriend or your “partner,” but saying it to Mark felt like the weight of a ton of bricks. 

In the dark lighting of the cabin you can just make out the frown that spreads across Mark’s face. Just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone and the cocky façade is back. 

“And that’s a problem?” your ex asked. 

As you’re about to protest and tell him that commitment in relationships is important to you, Mark reaches his hand out to rest on your bare shoulder, running it softly up and down your arms in a soothing pattern. It was a common gesture between the two of you, something Mark would constantly do whenever you were telling a story or the times you would fall asleep at night. It puts you at ease and you feel yourself close your eyes at his touch. 

Mark would be lying if he said the word “boyfriend” coming out of your mouth didn’t disappoint him. In fact, he felt a similar pain to the one he felt two years ago when you had broken up with him. Mark wasn’t daft, he knew what you thought of him – a player, a fuckboy and someone who never cared about you in the first place. It hurt him to know that you were just like everyone else around him who had a preconceived notion of who he was or what he did. At one point in time he thought you were different. 

But now looking at you and having you back in his life – even for only a thirteen-hour plane ride, he just wanted you back in his arms, back under his touch. He knew he should have felt guilty for not giving one fuck about this “boyfriend” you had acquired at some point during your two years apart, but he didn’t care. If he was going to have to be that cocky fuckboy who paid no mind to any consequences to get you, then so be it. 

“Come on… it’s been two years… let me feel that pussy that I’ve missed so so much,” he whispered seductively against the shell of your ear, “let me fuck into it so good, because I know no one’s filled it up so well since me. Especially not that boyfriend.” 

His words cause you to moan involuntarily and the noise awakens both you and him. You immediately shoot your hand up to cover your mouth, unsure of what’s getting into you. You were supposed to hate Mark, you had spent the last two years training yourself to hate him just in case a moment like this were ever to arise. But maybe that was an easier thing to imagine when you hadn’t seen him, because now with his hands gently caressing you and his request to be inside of you once again, you feel anything but hate. You feel want.

“Fuck Mark…” 

“Just say the word baby, and you have me,” he whispered, delicately placing an open mouth kiss on your wrist, slowly continuing up your arm. 

What were the pros and cons of this? If you were in any other difficult situation you would take a pause and list all of the good and bad things that could come from this. The big con was Brian… Even if you had been feeling strange about where your relationship with him was going and found him to be suffocating, you couldn’t do to him what Mark had done to you. Another negative factor emerged in your mind… you didn’t want to be put under Mark’s spell again, you couldn’t. Even being this close to him made you feel things that you had been trying to forget for two years, sleeping with him after all this time would only make it worse. That worried you. But judging on the primal way your body was reacting to Mark – your wet core being a clear sign – you knew this wasn’t going to be a logical decision where the cons outweigh the pros. 

“I-” you’re about to do it, you’re about to gain enough strength to tell him you don’t want him anymore, but when he pushes your hair away from where it lays on your shoulder and attaches his lips to the side of your neck, any willpower you had vanishing. His gentle sucking on the sweet spot of your neck that he knows oh too well causes you to let out a whimper and he smiles against your skin, knowing he has you. 

“Do it,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. 

Mark brings his lips back to your ear, “do what baby?” His cocky tone makes you want to roll you eyes. He had always done this – torture you until you were begging to feel his touch. 

You open your eyes and give yourself a moment to readjust to the dark lighting of the plane and focus on Mark’s face in the small space in front of the bathroom. You want to see his gaze when you make your non-logical decision.

“Fuck me.” 

The corner of his mouth turns upwards as he brings his arm forward and behind you to pull open the bathroom door, pushing you backwards into the cramped space. 

It’s when he’s pressed up against you and locks the door behind him that the reality of what you’re doing sets in. Just as you feel yourself get used to the harsh lighting, you freeze at Mark’s intense stare. 

“What are you looking at?” You asked. 

He smiled and glanced down at the floor shyly, then back up at you, “You.” 

For the first time since seeing him again at the airport store you feel those feelings in your stomach. No hate, no indifference and no bitterness towards Mark - not even just lust. Instead you felt a warmth for him that reminded you of the good days, not the bad ones. The swell in your heart worried you and you didn’t want to feel or dwell on it so you lean forward and kiss him.

Mark’s lips on yours doesn’t do anything to eliminate the softness you felt for him moments before, if anything it only intensifies it. It feels as though no time has passed for the two of you and the missing piece of the puzzle that you had been searching for has finally found its way back to you. 

A low growl comes from Mark’s throat and it sends your hands to find shelter in his hair. When you were together you had always had a weird thing for Mark’s hair. You loved running your fingers through it, gently massaging his scalp and tugging at the roots. Mark would always joke that you would probably break up with him if he ever shaved his head, which you didn’t exactly argue with. And now it just felt so good to have your hands where they belong. It’s almost as though Mark’s read your mind and he smiles against you lips when he feels your hands, “pull as hard as you want.” 

You feel his tongue at the seam of your lips, urging itself through to deepen the kiss and you tell yourself that it’s not too late, this can be the moment that you opt out for what a mistake this would be. With his hands drifting down from your hips to your ass, you feel yourself part your mouth voluntarily, realizing that you don’t want to stop this. You want to make this mistake; you want nothing more than to let him feel you and taste you even more. 

“I want to taste you so bad,” Mark whispered against your lips, “see if you taste as good as I remember.” 

You want that more than anything. Mark had always been so good with his tongue and just thinking about the hours he had spent between your thighs in the past made you even wetter than when you were having sex with Brian. Judging however, on the space you were both in, you didn’t know if it was physically possible. He can sense your hesitancy by the way your lips begin to still against his. 

He breaks apart from you and gently rubs his thumb along your jawline and lips, “don’t think too much.” In an instant Mark’s crouched down in the very small space in the bathroom and you immediately find yourself worried about his comfort level, “are you sure you’re okay?” 

He looked up at you, a dark look in his eyes and waved you off, “don’t worry about me babe, I’m about to have the best meal of my life.” At the end of his sentence he reaches up to the hem of your leggings and pulls them, along with your panties down in one sweep, pushing them aside. You’re almost surprised at his loftiness, but you remind yourself that it’s Mark. He moves a hand around to the back of your knee, hoisting one of your legs up onto the closed toilet seat, pushing the rest of your body up against the small sink counter. Although the space was already limited as it was, the position brought your core closer to his face and as you looked down to see the way his tongue stroked across his lips, you felt yourself already get lightheaded. 

He began with leaving open mouth kisses along the inside of your lifted thigh and another on the top of your pubic mound. It was enough to make you feel shaky, as though the one leg that was supporting your weight would give out at any moment. You found yourself unfazed, you knew Mark would be there to catch you if you fell. 

Mark leaned in further, his tongue delving between you folds to gather up as much of your wetness as he could, giving you a noisy taste that had him groaning, head pulling back and licking his lips after his first taste in two years.

“You taste even better than I remember, how the fuck could you get sweeter? I don’t even want to go back to my seat after tasting you, I could sit in this bathroom with my mouth on you till the end of the flight.” 

You found yourself wanting nothing more than to be stuck in this crammed bathroom with Mark for as long as you both could get away with. The person who was contemplating whether or not this was a bad idea didn’t even exist to you anymore. One lap of his tongue on you and you were reminded of all the ways he could make you fall apart. 

He tongued your clit slowly at first, every stroke almost teasing – as if he was making up for the years you two spent a part. His tongue would slip lower, working its way along your gushing entrance to remind you how much he relished your flavor before returning to your clit, the wet sounds of Mark’s sucking not even embarrassing to you. It was when Mark began to groan against you and swirl his tongue and suck that you felt your hands go back to his hair, roughly pulling him closer. 

“Mark, I-I can’t… I’m gonna – fuck,” you moaned out unable to form a functional and coherent thought. As you feel your orgasm on the horizon and just around the corner, you tug at Mark’s roots further, which encourages him to pick up the pace of his tongue, wanting you to cum on his face just like you had many times before. He wanted to drive you to the brink of pleasure, but he also wanted to prove to himself that he could still bring you to the edge with just his tongue.

Any delicacy he had been exhibiting before is completely gone, the way he laps at your clit and swirls his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves causes your chest to heave and sweat on your brow. You’re so caught up in Mark that you barely notice your foot beginning to slip from its security on the toilet. Mark swiftly acknowledges your pending loss of balance and tugs the leg up onto his shoulder, not removing himself from you for even a moment. 

You could feel yourself twitch and the arching of your hips towards his face, “come on baby I know how close you are, I need you to cum for me. Cum for me like all the times before, all over my face. I want it so bad.” 

Mark’s muffled words against you and the final groans he emits from how much he loves your taste is the last straw as you finally let go and the waves of release crash over you. He doesn’t give way as you buck yourself further into him one final time, his back practically hitting the wall of the bathroom. Your body comes down from your climax and you look to see Mark gratefully clean up the release he caused. When he takes his mouth away, you feel your core wavering against the emptiness and loss of warmth it had felt, almost as though it wanted Mark to be a permanent attachment to you. You’re breathless, head falling back to the mirror behind you as Mark stands up, wiping the back of his mouth and jawline which had become messy and shiny with your juices. 

“I knew you were still my little slut,” he pushes the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind you, “letting me have you in a fucking bathroom at 35,000 feet. How else will you let me have you?” He asked attaching his lips back to that spot on your neck. 

It dawns on you that there’s no winning. You once again are completely under the spell and at the mercy of Mark Tuan, willing to let him do whatever he wants to you. “M-Mark whatever you want.” At your response he simply smirked, quickly pulling his joggers and boxers down, his painfully hard cock slapping against his lower stomach. 

“Fuck I’ve been waiting so long to have you around me again. I never thought I would, and I’m going to make every second count.” 

He positions himself in between your legs, gripping your hips and pauses for a moment, clearly contemplating something. Mark hadn’t planned on having sex on the plane, nor did he plan on even seeing you again. 

“Mark if it’s about the condom, it’s fine… I don’t care, I’m still on the pill and I-I trust you.” 

At your trust in him, something he had so deeply been wanting all these years, he doesn’t hesitant another moment at placing himself at your entrance. His teasingly slow rubbing against your slit causes you to let out almost a growl at how much you needed him to be inside of you.

“How much do you want it y/n?” 

“So bad.” 

He pushes into you suddenly, “you’re still my cockslut, huh?” The feeling is too good and too great to answer him, but he’s not satisfied with your nonresponse.

“Answer me.” He sunk himself inside of you further and you do your best to let out the smallest and most inaudible “yes” you’ve ever heard, which thankfully seems to be enough for him. 

“God,” he groaned, “you’re still so tight.” He looks down at the space where your bodies meet, fixating his gaze at the visual of his cock slipping inside your sensitive and swollen folds. Mark waited for a moment for your pussy to get used to having him inside you again, to get reintroduced to his length and girth which it had been so accustomed to in the past. Despite the time that had passed, you felt no discomfort except for the mental discomfort in your head that just wanted him to fuck into you quickly and harshly. 

“Taking me so well, squeezing every inch of me. This pussy knows who it belongs to, who it deserves to be fucked by.” 

“M-Mark,” a final moan of his name is all it takes for him to begin his first real thrust into you, pulling himself out almost entirely. You feel so sensitive and overworked from your earlier orgasm that you aren’t sure how long you can last with the way your walls are clenching around Mark. 

His pace soon became brutal and you’re thankful the loud sound of the engine could cover up the whimpers coming from your mouth and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Mark’s fingers press into your hips so firmly that you know there will be bruises that you’ll have to explain later, but for now the only thing you can focus on is how full Mark is making you feel. He removes his hand from your side and brings it down between the two of you, fixating on your clit, rubbing until it ached. It caused your body to clench on him further, the continual touch and his fucking into you making you roll your eyes into the back of your head. 

Mark groaned at how snug you felt and how deep you were taking him, his head falling into the crook of your neck and against the bathroom mirror, “whose are you?” 

You know what he wants you to say, but you don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, even in the heat of the moment. It could lead to misunderstandings and a more complex outcome than just that of having sex with him in a fucking airplane bathroom. 

“Whose are you?” He repeated, this time a little bit softer and removing his head from your shoulder to look at you with worrisome eyes. Mark knows that if you say you’re his it’d most likely be untrue, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to hear it one more time, even if it’s a complete and utter lie. He wants to know he has you, even if it’s for this one moment. 

“Yours, I’m all yours,” you breathe out. It comes out on its own, without any time for you to process or comprehend what you’re saying. It surprises you so much that you aren’t even sure if it’s a lie or not. 

That’s all he needed and he thrusts into you even harder, hitting the spot inside of you that makes you want to completely fall apart and combust. You’re too caught up in the pleasure of him ramming into you that you don’t even feel the pain that comes with your backside being continually pushed into small counter of the sink. 

“Cum for me baby, I’m close and I need us to do this together. It’s all I want,” Mark said. His tone perplexes you. It’s forceful and authoritative something that you were no stranger to when it came to sex with Mark, but there was a clear tenderness to it that had you second guessing everything. Maybe this wasn’t just sex. 

It’s one more strum of his cock against your g-spot and the pinching of your clit with his thumb and index finger that has you climaxing around him. The almost violent pulse from your pussy around him due to your orgasm has Mark following close behind, spilling himself deep inside of you. The ecstasy coursing through you causes your entire body to shake and twitch, wanting to collapse completely onto the bathroom floor. You fall against Mark’s body and in his own exhausted state he holds you close, protectively wrapping his arms around you making you feel secure. 

You should want to get out of the situation immediately as a one-time thing, but somehow you can’t bring it in you to remove yourself from his grasp. You felt at home with Mark’s arms around you and him still inside of you. It was a comfort a sense of normalcy you hadn’t felt with anyone since Mark. He softly strokes your hair, placing gentle kisses on the top of your head remembering how much you liked it after a tiring session of sex.

It feels as though no time has passed, but soon you find yourself out of Mark’s hold. He removes his now soft cock from you and you can feel yours and his cum leaking from your core, down to your thighs. It’s almost as though this movement has finally woken you up. You delicately collapse onto the toilet, making sure to take extra care with your now jelly-like legs. With your head in your hands in disbelief at the actions you had just willingly followed through on, Mark stares at you. 

“Fuck… I’m so mad at myself.”

With the small amount of space, he has, Mark shifts his weight from one foot to the other, “why? That was so fucking great.” 

You looked up at him in a scolding manner, he still had no perception of reality, but apparently now you were one and the same. “Because now I did the same thing to Brian that you did to me.”

There’s a pause and Mark avoids all eye contact with you. He had imagined this talk so many times – the talk the two of you never got to have and he really didn’t want it to be here, like this. But by some strike of luck, fate had brought you back to him, even for a short period of time and he may never get the opportunity to come clean again. 

Choosing to continue to avert your gaze, Mark sighs deeply and busies himself with pulling up his joggers. 

“I didn’t cheat on you.”  

You feel like ice and your whole body goes numb, “W-what?” 

He sighs again, looking down, “I never cheated on you.” 

You think there’s no way you could have heard him correctly. Your entire break up, the reason you ended your passionate love story with the one person you saw a future with came from his cheating. It couldn’t be a lie… Could it? 

One thing was for certain, you knew Mark so well and judging by the fidgeting and fiddling with his fingers you can tell you still do. And he was telling the truth. Your stomach flipped. 

“Then why did you let me believe that you did?”

“You were the only person in my life who didn’t believe all those stupid rumors about me, the only person who didn’t believe I was a fuckboy like everyone thought… but then the moment someone tells you they think they saw me with someone, you pack your bags. I figured you wouldn’t believe me, just like everyone else.”

It’s ridiculous. The words coming out of his mouth are ridiculous, but part of you understands what he’s saying. Maybe you had been too quick to judge, too quick to believe everyone else’s preconceived notions regarding your own boyfriend, but what were you supposed to do when he didn’t even defend himself? 

“You know… even after all this time, I still don’t know why I hated you. I really don’t know if it was because I thought you cheated or because you never went after me when I left.” 

Mark’s silent, and the weight of the situation continues to hit the two of you like a bus. Part of you feels betrayed by him. More betrayal then when you first heard the rumors. The two of you could have been together this whole time, saved each other from years of pain, sorrow and longing, but instead it’s almost as though he forced it upon you both.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Jesus fuck Mark we’re not Marianne and Connell from Normal People, we can talk to each other.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Who?” 

“I’ve been watching a lot of TV since we broke up.” 

There’s another silence between the two of you and in the small space it feels deafening and suffocating. You want nothing more than to go back to your seat and forget this even happened. Weirdly enough, the sex part you were fine with. It was this conversation that left you feeling like you couldn’t get a proper breath of air into your lungs, almost as if you were drowning. 

You take a piece of toilet paper from the roll beside you and use it to attempt to clean up the mess that had already begun drying on your legs. Mark watches you mindlessly, unsure of what to say himself. He knows he made a mistake from not telling you and effectively keeping the two of you apart, but every time he would reach for the phone to dial your number he would be reminded of the pain he felt and all the things you had called him that day. 

Everyone was right! Why didn’t I just fucking listen to them? Does a three year relationship mean nothing to you? I thought you changed… were different… but now I just feel like I wasted my time.

“I-I really don’t know what to say if I’m honest,” you finally stuttered out, grabbing your discarded leggings and pulling them on, “did you want me to leave you?”

Mark shakes his head vigorously, completely taken aback at you even thinking that, “no... Not at all... I just- it was complicated.”

“Right and you don’t do complicated. Got it.” You stand up and move to unlock the door, but Mark moves in front of you as he did earlier. 

“Y/n... Can we just talk about this? When we land can we just go to a cafe and talk about everything? I still- I mean... even after all this time I-” He begins, but you’re too scared to hear him finish the sentence.

“Mark we’ve had a lot of time to talk. Just please let me go back to my seat.” 

This time he makes no effort to stop you from leaving and you quickly slip out of the bathroom, fearful someone might see you. Luckily, everyone is still fast asleep and you walk back down the aisle to your seat wanting to forget about what Mark had said.  

You couldn’t deal with the what ifs, you couldn’t get lost in a fantasy of imagining that maybe you and Mark could be married already if he would have just said something. You couldn’t be that cruel to yourself.

After a few moments, you notice the bathroom occupied sign go away, signaling Mark’s arrival back to his seat. 

He knows he could just sit down and go back to sleep, falling back in to the way things were. But he had already not tried to go after you once before and he had been regretting it ever since. He had to say fuck that to all of the fears he had of being judged and put trust back into someone again. He wanted you.

Your eyes which had drifted closed soon shot open as you felt a movement at the side of your chair, turning to see Mark crouched down next you

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I already let go of you once, I’m not doing it again. If I have to spend the next,” he brings his watch up to look at the time, “six hours convincing you, then so be it. I’m not letting walk away from me this time.” At his final word he moves his hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear and goes to sit down. His eyes piercing into the back of your seat.

You felt Mark’s words, you felt them deeply in every part of you and it made you think that the Mark you love was still in there. 

Love.

You still loved him.

The beating of your heart made it difficult to fall asleep, but when you finally did you had a decision made and a smile on your face. 

[axe-trio-commanders]

OC Interview: Zori Sunblade

Draw (or use an old drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!

INTRODUCTION

Can you introduce yourself?

"That, uh... depends- this isn’t going on public record, right? I mean- not immediately?” [redacted] “Okay, yeah, after my death is... well- no, maybe Seremnis’ death. Or whenever she wants- okay, give it to her after my death and she’ll- yeah. Okay.” Shuffling and creaking of leather. “Zori Sunblade, member of the Sun warband, magister of the priory, pact commander by title, uh... oh- leader of Dragon’s Watch. And uh. Charr. Ranger. Uhm... hi?”

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

“...Uh... I think...” mumbled “...burn me I hope I remember the meaning of these right, been a while-” regular voice “Uh- she/her... lady friends, so far, and- actually been married for a while.” [She shows of a ring around her left-hand ring finger. Its gem gives off a faint glow.] “Still sort-of figuring out what that means, but I think I’ve got most of it down.”

Where and when were you born?

"...I, uh... hm. Lend me some paper and quill?” [Paper and quill is lent.] “...So it’s... 34, and that was... 25, when I was...” [She nods and taps the pen affirmatively on the paper.] “1306 AE, at, uh... all I remember or have been told is growing up in a fahrar around Rin.”

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

“That depends. I can snipe pretty good with a longbow, but torch and axe are my go-to for close range... sometimes a dagger if I need to be a bit less conspicuous.”

Lastly, are you happy?

“...Well, that uh. That escalated quickly, huh?” laugh “Ah... sometimes. Sometimes... it’s- I guess I don’t clearly remember now if it’s harder than it used to be, but... I’m working on it.”

FAMILY AND FRIENDS

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

“Dragon’s Watch is my family. As is my warband, Aurene... Canach’s in there somewhere, too. It’s... I dunno. Some of them... still look up to me, I guess, after everything- some of them know me to well, some of them... I don’t know. Warband’s... complicated, right now, and I’ll probably always worry about Aurene... the people that know the most want to help, I know they do, it’s just... it’s hard to believe things will get better sometimes.” laugh “Probably not the best thing to hear from the charr you’ve put in charge of saving Tyria for the past nine years, huh?”

Have you ever ran away from home?

“...I... I don’t know. Maybe that’s what I’m doing now- burn me, I... really don’t think I can go back to the legions now, regardless of if things are changing or not. Don’t really think there’s been another... place I’ve ever called home.”

Would you consider marriage or having children?

“I mean- kinda too late to have second thoughts on marriage, huh? Ah, not that I would. I don’t think I’d want to live without her at this point, being honest...” Tapping of claws “...Cubs, though... I don’t know. Not now, definitely. If I’m going to be taking care of cubs, It’s not going to be at a time where I can’t do it myself. Be there for them. Burn me, I’ve had far too many examples of what happens when you don’t.” Pause “...Have sometimes fantasized about a quiet house somewhere in the woods, though. Whenever the disaster’s over.”

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

“...Why would you call them your friends if...? No, if that was even a question. I’ve made it very clear who I hate, and... burn me, I guess... yeah, the only one who isn’t dead is Phlunt. And... Bengar, probably. Not sure if he’s, uh. Stable, right now? Not- I mean I don’t go out and murder whoever annoys me, that’s not- it’s a short list. It’s a very short list. I’m not going to murder someone over, like... burnt toast or something. That sort of thing is reserved for endangering my family.”

Which friend knows everything about you?

“...I- mm... I... some of them know more than others. Definitely, people in my family know more than people outside of it- ...burn me, I... I think, alltogether, if everyone I knew pooled knowledge they’d have everything, but... not any one. It’s... it’s habit, I guess.”

ASKED BY FANS

“Please tell me you’ve filtered these beforehand.”

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

"Okay, good start, uh... I mean, I’ve been through the fahrar, obviously, and I’m also a priory magister- I learned a lot more about the... being literate there, but at this point in my life I’m writing-fluent in New Krytan, old charr pathfinding symbols, ancient orrian... in the process of learning a couple others, too. Can’t hurt.”

The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

Snort “I’m not allowed to die. I mean- burn me, what else am I supposed to take away from the fact that I died- actually went-to-the-mists died, and got told by the messenger of a human god that I, of all people, could go back? Had to, in fact? ...Burn me, I should probably be happy about that, but. Implication’s aren’t great there.”

What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

“...That I’m... that there are people who’d miss me. Not- not miss the commander, but... I expected people would- mourn, write songs or whatever once I actually kicked the bucket, but it’s all a bit... hollow, when most of them don’t even know my name- and to some degree, that’s purposeful. They can- they can mourn the role I filled, the stuff I did, that’s fine, that’s not going to destroy them, not going to hurt for more than a... week, maybe. And everyone else- even the closest people- burn me I’m supposed to be dead. Not only was I, but there’s no- there’s no logical reason I’ve survived all this. Gods and Elder dragons have wanted me dead- entire factions, powerful people- I’m not allowed to die by- by fate, or whatever, but nothing else in Tyria wants me here, so I- you expect people to expect it, at least. To be prepared for it. I want them to be, for their own sake, but...” long sigh “...I... tried to get my warband to leave. Now that they knew... where I’ve been. What I’ve been doing, and... it really shouldn’t have been such a shock that they were worried about me. That... that they, and... everyone who knows how bad it’s gotten wants me to get... better. That I even have that option.”

Do you have mental health or physical issues?

quiet “...I don’t think any of us came out of this unscathed.”

What is your current main goal?

“...I think... I think I will just- just focus on getting better, now. I- burn me, it’s going to give me anxiety like nothing else to leave this to anyone, but I’ve- ...guess this is the first I’ll say it outside of closed circles, but I... I think I’m giving up the title of commander. I don’t think- that’s not going to mean I’m not around, I’m... probably not even leaving Dragon’s Watch, but... it’s time to hang the regalia up, at least. Leave the final say to someone else.” Laugh “Definitely not gonna miss the politics. May I never have to see Phlunt’s face again.”

CHOICES

Drink or food?

“...Oh, the hard questions are over now? Er- sort of? ...I mean, you need both to... live, so... Hm. I mean- I’ve had some really good food, Dragon’s Watch has one of the best chefs, but- if you’ve ever had an entire jug of water past the height of the moon, you know exactly my dilemma here.

Cats or dogs?

“This is what we call a ‘false dichotomy’. Both. Duh.”

Early bird or night owl?

“...I, uh. I’m not sure I’ve had a steady sleep schedule, for... five? Years? I guess if you do want to wake me up without either food or news of immediate disaster that needs fixing, I might consider physical harm, so... whichever one that is.”

Optimist or pessimist?

“That depends. On the subject of how good today’s food will be? Optimist. On Phlunt ever caring for anything other than his own pride and wellbeing? Pessimist.”

Sassy or sarcastic?

“...There’s a difference? Everyone I’ve met has both or neither.”

HAVE YOU EVER-

-been caught sneaking out?

“Nope. I was raised Ash, and I was good at it.”

-broke a bone?

“...I... I don’t think I have, actually. Probably got just about every other possible injury, but... not that yet.”

-received flowers?

“...I, uh. Eheh... The, uhm. The first time my, uh- now-wife sent me flowers, I... didn’t know what they were for? And sort of. Ate them.” pause “...They were... definitely not meant to be eaten. They were anonymous- she told me about it later- so I thought someone was trying to poison me until a close friend explained what getting flowers meant.” pause “...Burn me, I have no idea how long she was trying to flirt with me until I managed to catch on.”

-ghosted someone?

“...Have I mentioned the time I burned to death?”

-pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

“...Wait, that’s- that’s a thing? I could have been telling terrible, incomprehensible jokes this whole time and I have no way to even know?! I- ...no, I haven’t, I guess. I just sort of... sit there confused...”

“...That’s the last one? Really? Sort of an awkward way to end it. Well, uh... remember the release protocol we agreed upon. Whole buncha people are gonna be upset if you don’t- most of which know how to hide bodies. Not... not sure why I know so many of that type of people, to be honest with you.”

[keyofjetwolf]

Bonus Question Answers! (anime heat 2)

I asked a silly question! You gave me incredible answers. SO VERY MANY INCREDIBLE ANSWERS. Now, I present my favourites! And really, they were ALL favourites. Mmm, headcanony goodness.

Oh, special shoutout to this unattributed one, which I suspect fell prey to someone submitting early, but as phrased, made me snort laugh: “one of my longest held headcanons is that ami“

SAME, FRIEND

Anyway, If your answer is listed below, you’ve earned an entry in a random draw to win a GIFTENING liveblog OF YOUR CHOICE

—

Q: Senshi headcanon time! Intrigue me, humour me, crush me, FEED ME.

* Michiru actually did have a guardian cat, once. It was silvery grey with dark blue eyes. It did not speak, but it was always there to provide support and comfort in a life which had little of either. The first time Michiru had a strong vision, which left her cold and senseless on the floor of her room, it was the small warmth from her cat that brought her back to the world of color and light and solidity. The cat was a friend and confidante in those early days, when Michiru was unsure if this experience was real or the beginnings of schizophrenia. The fact that her mother could see the cat, and regularly make comments about the uncleanliness of such creatures, was proof of Michiru's new reality. So when the cat entered the fray to distract a youma, saving Michiru, but being killed in the process, it became one more thing that the Moon had given her, only to steal away. Michiru promised herself to never rely on another again, or to allow the Moon to have her heart again. And she had done fairly well at this. Haruka, for all her charms, was a plaything, and not something to sacrifice herself for. But pausing outside the Marine Cathedral, Michiru found herself looking into dark blue eyes, so different, but so similar, and knew that she would do anything and everything in her power to keep from having to watch them close, again. -- @incorrecttact  [YOU ARE ALSO KILLING THESE QUESTIONS. This hit me right in the kokoro, and I welcomed its sweet sweet pain.]

~~

*  Mako teaches Hotaru, Chibiusa, and the Amazon Quartet to cook and bake as a bonding activity. Hotaru LOVES making cakes and decorating them. Chibiusa likes cooking with noodles and even making her own; it doesn’t sound special, but the food she makes is DELICIOUS. Ves, the red one, finds cooking easy, but doesn’t like it and so never does outside of being coaxed into it. Jun, the green one, finds baking easy, but also doesn’t like sweet things, which limits her repertoire. Cere, the pink one, has no natural talent, but she very much WANTS to be good at it, so she turns out to be the best cook of her Senshi group. Palla takes to neither, but she is very enthusiastic about eating their experiments.  --  Jules  [I am an absolute slut for Mako and moments with the kids, and including the Quartet was a brilliant stroke.]

~~

*  A Serenity is not supposed to be reborn. They are born, they live, they die, and they are done. They are not like the Senshi, whose souls reincarnate, carefully bound to Serenity blood. They are not supposed to be reborn, so when Queen Serenity sees everything fail and decides to send their souls to the future, the Senshi are easy. Serenity is not. In desperation, Serenity does something she would have never considered in any other circumstance: she ties Serenity's soul to the Senshi. What was once a one way tie, has now become an equal bond, and so everything changes.  -- @madegeeky  [Ooo, this is some lovely twists on my own reincarnation headcanons, while still keeping the “this is a mistake” flavour. IT TASTES GOOD.]

~~

*  How about more Rei whistle antics? You headcanon Usagi would use the whistle for every mundane thing and Rei would come. Usagi would do this at 2 AM in the morning too and Rei would still be woken up and still come even in pajamas if she need be because Usagi had a spooky nightmare or "Rei-chan I fell off my bed and now my face hurts". Knowing Rei whistle antics can be funny for us and maybe aggravating for Rei at times because "Usagi you blew the whistle because you fell off the bed?" what if we can make it a pinch sad? Like what if Rei can tell what sort of peril Usagi is in by the way she blows the whistle in tone? Like when it's a sad somewhat weaker whistle, even if it's just a tiny subtle tone, Rei can IMMEDIATELLY tell "USAGI IS SAD AND NEEDS ME" and she will RUSH over in 5 seconds like in her Rei way, she might even have the mind to bring snacks, cocoa and plush to hug for the comfort.  --  Mrs. Duckling  [HOW ABOUT INDEED. I hadn’t thought about the different ways the whistle can be blown and what it might say, what a wonderful addition. THANK YOU FOR CATERING DIRECTLY TO ME AND MY NEEDS]

~~

*  PGSM!Sailor Mars - [REDACTED] Oh. Right. You're not there yet. Awkward... Anime!Minako is a huge fan of romance manga, but for all the wrong reasons. She tried drawing doujinshi of crack ships before realizing that A) she's not really a writer and B) she's REALLY not an artist. She plans on using some of her rich idol singer money to commission really bizarre romance stories. The sort that make you go WTF?! Of course, step one is "become a rich and famous idol"... Meanwhile, Rei also buys the romance manga that Minako gets into, (partially so she'll shut up about it) but mainly just analyzes them for mood and the characters, and gets frustrated when they inevitably devolve into nothing but sappy kissing and mooning over each other. She's trying to see why Minako gets so obsessed, but doesn't want to flat out admit that she doesn't get it and have to ask. -- Peter "Pigeons!" Svensson  [I had nothing but fun with this, fantastic. ps: THANK YOU FOR THE PIGEONS NOMINATION]

~~

* If these four* Senshi were to meet you, I think they'd each also be meeting some of their best qualities: Usagi is love, and that love is infectious as HELL. Much like a certain blogger who has amassed an international following on the strength of her love for her favourite media, wouldn't you say? Ami is very impressed by your office set-up! But when she sees you re-enter the room with a sprightly little black cat riding on your shoulder, she knows she has discovered a kindred spirit. Where can Rei-chan possibly begin? From your passionately informed and encyclopedic knowledge of their interactions ("She has RECEIPTS, Usagi!"), to your, let's call it tenacity ("She stirred that sugar for TWO HOURS, Usagi!!"), Rei finds so much to admire. And while no one could ever possibly love Rei as much as she loves herself, she magnanimously allows that you are a close second. As for Haruka, well! World Shaking? More like Toilet Breaking! You wrecked that shit and unleashed the sea. She can certainly relate *eyebrows, eyebrows* *would that i had time to write out blurbs for the others! but we're heading back into lockdown today, and i need to get to the post office to mail you a package. PRIORITIES! xo  -- @rasiqra-revulva​  [Okay look when I said “crush me” I didn’t mean WITH NICENESS. Also thank you for the huge laughs. *eyebrows, eyebrows*]

~~

*  Minako manages to write a tell-all book (anonymously, of course, and with names changed to protect the relevant,) about their first few years as Senshi in the lull between Stars and Shit Escalating Again. Even more astoundingly, she manages to get it optioned as a film and play Sailor Mars without blowing her cover! Rei seethes. Minako’s annoyed because she tried out for Usagi. Usagi’s just happy Minako’s successful. The film manages to pick up nominations come award season, and Michiru even arranges for the rest of the Senshi to attend. Minako loses to some film from a really overrated director that manages to out-award bait her reenactment of D-Point. She’s silently fuming through his acceptance speech when he’s Burning Mandala’d mid-sentence. And that’s how the Senshi discovered that Jadeite survived getting run over with planes, joined the entertainment industry after Beryl’s defeat, and had been using it to drain energy ever since! Sailor Mars’s speech about how he disgraces the passion of filmmakers everywhere and her comrade’s hard work goes viral. -- Regalli  [LOVED THE TWIST ENDING, also Rei basically stealing the awards show stage, as we all know she would]

~~

*  Not Senshi, but cats! One day, when Usagi is queen, she's going to decide to knight the cats. Luna thinks it's silly and figures Usagi is just acting on a whim, but Artemis has his chest puffed out and is glowing with pride. They're given tiny medals made by Endymion. -- RibbonFinale  [Oh I DID want this. I wanted this very much, THANK YOU.]

~~

*  Makoto can't culture bonsai trees. It's not a matter of ability, or scale — she can work with tiny tools with equal facility as large ones — but she can't bring herself to push the things down, to cut and twist and bind them to grow the way _she_ wants, not the way it wants to grow.   The tiny pine she bought to try it out, years ago, is in a pot in the corner of her apartment; it's just now grown taller than she is. -- Taperwolf  [I didn’t expect this one to hit me as hard as it did when I started reading. Love it, love it, love it.]

~~

*  You know those 'meetings Usagi doesn't know about'? the ones where the girls dive into the nitty gritty about being senshi, the ones where they decide who will take up being the Disguise Pen Decoy if Minako is killed? Usagi knows about them. it was one of those 'character A eavesdrops and hears character B talking about them' setups, but instead of hearing Ami call Usagi a ditz, she hears Ami saying 'I'm the weakest fighter, if Minako is assassinated and we need someone to be decoy it'd be easier to explain away my absence than Rei's or Mako's' In these meetings they speak very coldly about themselves, Ami is always first to call herself the weak one, Minako calls into attention her showboating, Mako will openly remind people she doesn't think things through on the battlefield, and Rei derides herself on her inability to keep her cool (heh) and they all come up with contingencies to cover for eachother to the minutest detail. Usagi only ever evesdrops on one of these meetings, but now she knows they happen. and she can't un-know.  -- Vega  [OOOOOOOOOOOOOO.]

~~

Manga Sailor Pluto has picked her nose 2,013,417 times. -- too ashamed to say  [WHY THE SHAME THIS IS CORRECT  AND NOW RIGHTFULLY CANON]

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I’ll be drawing for the bonus liveblog around the start of THE GIFTENING 2020 (currently looking to be Monday, 11 January 2021). Each bonus question is another chance to earn an entry! I CAN ABSOLUTELY AND SHAMELESSLY BE BOUGHT.