#this just crossed my dash and I felt compelled to make it since it is still the anniversary

[twistedappletree]

TYPE: One-shot

JURISDICTION: It’s extra fluffy with a dash of awkward angst, your honor.

PAIRING: Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui

SIDE CHARACTERS: Lan Jingyi, Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang

ELEMENTS: Lanling setting, canon universe, first kiss, implied SangCheng, Lan Jingyi salivating over chicken (literally), gift-giving, Jin Ling trying to make the first move (emphasis on trying) and Lan Sizhui fixing everything as usual~

•

Beautiful as their surroundings were, Jin Ling’s eyes were hopelessly transfixed on the boy in front of him—his starlight skin in the pastel light, the wonder and joy sparkling in his amethyst eyes, the way each gentle breeze danced through his dark hair and waltzed with the ends of his forehead ribbon.

Jin Ling stared at him intensely and walked further into the grove, the thick layer of petals on the ground cushioning his steps and making him feel weightless.

Every nerve in his body screamed and ached as he walked. Then jogged. Then ran.

•

In which Lan Sizhui keeps disappearing during a visit to Jinlintai, a worried Jin Ling goes looking for him in all the wrong places and an embarrassing run-in with his uncle and Nie Huaisang finally points him in the obvious direction, leading to an unforgettable night.

{AO3}

🌸

The gilded city of Lanling pleasantly echoed with quiet chatter and subtle serenades of bright chimes as Lan Jingyi groaned over his meal. “That’s the third time you’ve asked me in the past hour! I didn’t know where he was thirty minutes ago and I still don’t know where he is now.”

Jin Ling sat across from him at their table outside of the restaurant and crossed his arms. “I just think it’s weird that he hasn’t spent a single day with us since he got here.”

Lan Jingyi listlessly swirled his food around with his chopsticks, the contents of the bowl looking less appetizing each time the other disciple opened his mouth. “Are you his mother or something? It’s really not that weird, he does this all the time when we’re in Caiyi Town.”

A swift foot kicked Lan Jingyi’s shin under the table, causing him to yelp. “I’m just curious, is that a crime?!” Jin Ling slumped back in his seat and looked off to the side. “Figured I’d ask you, since you two are so inseparable.”

Lan Jingyi caught a hint of jealousy in the other boy’s tone and raised a suspicious brow. He finally shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth and chewed with an annoyed rhythm. “First of all, we’re not inseparable. Second of all, I don’t wonder where he is every moment like a paranoid wife—“

Jin Ling suddenly slapped his hand down on the table so hard, Lan Jingyi’s bowl clattered. The young Jin disciple stood and turned his back to him, looking both angry and flustered.

“Leaving so soon, Mistress Jin?” Lan Jingyi teased.

Jin Ling placed a hand on his hip and glared over his shoulder, amber eyes burning a fierce gold in the sunlight. “I’ve hit my limit of Lan nonsense for the day. Run around and do whatever you want, I’m going home.”

Lan Jingyi chewed on another piece of chicken as he watched him leave. “Home? Sure,” he snorted, “See you in thirty minutes.”

Jin Ling was too far to hear him and he definitely wasn’t heading in the direction of Koi Tower. Instead, he walked further into the heart of Lanling and thought about all of the places Lan Sizhui could possibly be.

He didn’t even know why he wanted to find him so badly but there was an unmistakable feeling of dejection and worry festering in the pit of his stomach. Dejection because he felt like Lan Sizhui might be ignoring him and worry because Jin Ling wanted to know if he was okay.

He stopped in the middle of a bustling market street decorated with colorful paper lanterns, hanging ribbons fluttering in the cool breeze and golden chimes beckoning patrons to shop with their gentle song.

Sizhui likes animals, he thought. Maybe…

For some ludicrous reason, this thought compelled him to walk towards the local butcher shop, even though Lan Sizhui’s love for animals would certainly make him writhe at the sight of them being chopped to bits.

Before Jin Ling could turn away, the butcher lit up at the sight of his Jin sect robes, high quality weapons and golden accessories, knowing there was the possibility of a generous sale.

“Young Master Jin!” the butcher called, waving a large bloody knife above his head in greeting.

Jin Ling sneered at the sight and wondered if the man had any idea how insane he looked.

“In the market for some fresh meat? I’ll give you the best cuts!”

“Not interested,” Jin Ling said curtly, waving his hand. “Have you seen a cultivator of the GusuLan clan walking around anywhere?”

The butcher raised his brows, “Ah, I have!”

Jin Ling’s face brightened as he prepared to ask him another question but his face immediately flattened into annoyance as the butcher continued.

“He was practically drooling all over my chickens, making other customers uncomfortable. Had to chase him off before he drove away all my business!”

Jingyi, you idiot.

“I see,” Jin Ling muttered, “Never mind then.” He turned on his heel and began walking off as the butcher called after him.

“W-Wait, Young Master Jin! I’ll discount the cuts just for you!”

Jin Ling ignored him and kept walking, thinking of other places to search for Lan Sizhui.

A group of giggling children suddenly zipped past him towards a vibrant stall of various toys. Jin Ling followed them and browsed the items discreetly, attempting to look as uninterested as possible until one item caught his eye.

A sky blue notebook delicately engraved with silver-leaf clouds and several playful rabbits glimmered in the sun. He picked it up and examined its quality, wondering why it was being sold at a toy stand.

“Do you like it, Young Master?”

The shopkeeper, a tiny old woman with a gentle voice, noticed his interest in the notebook and smiled.

“Is this even for kids?” Jin Ling asked.

“Not necessarily, though I suppose the older tykes would appreciate it more than the little ones,” she explained. “But I’m sure it’ll eventually fall into the hands of a child who’ll treat it as a toy. You’re the first to take such an interest in it.”

Jin Ling blushed at the reason why he was so interested, then frowned at the thought of such beautiful craftsmanship being chewed and slobbered on by some random brat. “I’ll take it.”

The shopkeeper’s eyes widened with awe and delight. “Truly? It’s a bit pricey—“

Jin Ling shot her an annoyed glare, insulted that she’d even question his wealth.

She passively waved her hands in the air. “My apologies, Young Master—let me wrap this for you!”

The shopkeeper folded a cloth around the notebook to protect it and graciously exchanged it for Jin Ling’s money.

Jin Ling now had a peace offering in case he actually did do something to make Lan Sizhui ignore him, which was what his anxiety genuinely made him believe. He safely tucked the notebook into a leather pouch on his belt and continued through the market.

He likes tea, he thought, rubbing the bridge of his nose while realizing he might not know Lan Sizhui as well as he thought he did.

The local tea house greeted him with the calming scents of jasmine, mint and ginger as he stepped inside. An enthusiastic waiter immediately ushered him to a free table and served a fresh pot of tea that remained untouched as Jin Ling scanned every inch of the tea house for Lan Sizhui.

Just then, two very familiar voices sounded from the table next to his. Both tables were separated by a dividing screen but the voices were unmistakable.

He immediately stood and whipped his head around the screen. “Uncle?!”

Jiang Cheng jumped to his feet so fast his hair ribbon came untied, thanks to a stunned Nie Huaisang who was still seated with one end of the ribbon clutched in his hand.

Nie Huaisang promptly shoved the ribbon behind him and snapped open his fan, trying to hide the blush on his face.

Jin Ling glared at him, then narrowed his eyes at his uncle. “You’re with him again? Why?”

Jiang Cheng glowered dangerously. “I fail to see how that’s any of your business. Why aren’t you training?”

Jin Ling pointed his chin and crossed his arms. “I already trained today—“

“Then go train some more—!”

“I’m looking for someone!”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes glittered with interest as he peeked over his fan. “Oh? I might be able to help with that.”

Jiang Cheng scowled. “Shut up, Huaisang.”

“So meeeaaan, Jiang-xiong!” Nie Huaisang whined and stared up at him with the eyes of a kicked puppy.

Jin Ling scrunched his nose at the ridiculous sight, legitimately wondering if he entered a tea house or the circus. “I’m looking for Sizhui.”

Jiang Cheng raised a brow. “Who?”

“One of the little Lan boys, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang clarified.

Jiang Cheng’s jaw twitched at the mention of the Lans. “We saw one earlier getting kicked out of the butcher shop—“

“The funny one,” Nie Huaisang chimed.

Jin Ling narrowed his eyes. “He’s not funny—“

“A-Ling is talking about the boring one.”

“He’s not boring!” Jin Ling snapped. “And don’t call me A-Ling!”

Nie Huaisang waved his fan in front of his face, not expecting such an impassioned response. “Okay, okay! Truce, Young Master Jin!”

“Have you seen him or not?” Jin Ling barked, clearly losing his patience.

Nie Huaisang thought for a moment then lowered his fan. “No.”

“Great!” Jin Ling shouted, voice dripping in sarcasm as he threw his hands up and turned away.

“Jin Ling!”

The young Jin disciple turned to stone at the sound of his uncle’s voice and slowly pivoted back around to face Jiang Cheng’s intense, electrified glare.

“Stop acting like a child,” Jiang Cheng scolded. “You will show your seniors respect.”

Jin Ling still wanted to protest but he frowned at the floor and slumped with defeat. “Yes, uncle.”

Nie Huaisang stared up at Jiang Cheng and fluttered his fan like a swooning maiden before looking back at Jin Ling. “Just because I haven’t seen him doesn’t mean I don’t know where he is.”

Jin Ling furrowed his brow. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Nie Huaisang started, pausing to take a sip of his tea, “That in order to find a Lan, you must think like a Lan.”

His cryptic sentences were driving Jin Ling up the wall. Even Jiang Cheng slid back down to his seat and closed his eyes, seemingly meditating to drown out Nie Huaisang’s nonsense.

“Just think about it,” Nie Huaisang chirped. “What do the Lan’s love to do more than anything else?”

“Get kicked out of butcher shops, apparently,” Jiang Cheng muttered.

Jin Ling snorted and Nie Huaisang tapped his fan on Jiang Cheng’s head who batted it away like a vexed cat.

“I’m not talking about that Lan, I’m talking about the normal ones,” Nie Huaisang corrected.

A dismissive sound hissed through Jiang Cheng’s teeth. “Are any of them normal?”

“They like to study,” Jin Ling interrupted, ignoring their banter. “And—“ His face suddenly blanched and he mentally kicked himself for being so dense.

Nie Huaisang brightened and passed him a knowing look while Jiang Cheng’s eyes flicked between them, utterly confused.

“I have to go.” Jin Ling hastily bowed to them both and scampered off towards the entrance.

“You better be training when I get back to Koi Tower!” Jiang Cheng shouted after him.

Nie Huaisang noticed the vein on Jiang Cheng’s forehead and fanned some cool air in his direction. “Let him be, Jiang-xiong.”

Jiang Cheng grumbled and leaned back with crossed arms. “The hell was that about, anyway?”

Nie Huaisang grinned and refilled their tea cups. “Something you wouldn’t understand—not yet, at least.” He retrieved Jiang Cheng’s hair ribbon and wound it playfully around his own wrist. “How about we continue our… conversation.”

Outside of the tea house, several people moved away and watched as Jin Ling raced through the market and skidded to a stop in front of Lanling’s bookshop. He swung open the door and marched inside.

“Welcome, Young Master—“ the shopkeeper’s greeting was cut short as Jin Ling planted both of his hands on the counter and stared at him intensely.

“Lan disciple. Tall, quiet, too nice for his own good. Where is he?”

The aggressive tone of Jin Ling’s voice made the shopkeeper go rigid with hesitation. “Y-Young Master, if you’ve a quarrel with him, may I ask that you settle it outside? These books are quite fragile and—“

Jin Ling furrowed his brow. “Huh? I’m not here to fight him, I just need to talk to him.”

The shopkeeper exhaled with relief and nodded. “Right, thank you… he’s in the back of the shop, I believe.”

Jin Ling headed further into the bookshop, passing several shelves filled with scrolls, ink pots and brushes until he reached the back.

Lan Sizhui was sitting on the floor hunched over several books that were fanned out in front of him as neatly as possible. He dipped a brush into an ink pot and scribbled something on a piece of parchment, so immersed that he failed to notice he wasn’t alone.

Jin Ling crossed his arms and arched a brow. “You got enough books?”

Lan Sizhui whipped his head up in surprise, his amethyst eyes sparkling in the warm lantern light. “Young Master Jin…? What are you doing here?” His face suddenly paled and morphed into pure worry. “Is Jingyi okay? He didn’t break anything again, did he?!”

Jin Ling’s face twisted and he rolled his eyes. “He’s fine and I’m pretty sure the town is still intact.”

Lan Sizhui sighed with relief, tension leaving his shoulders. “Did Hanguang-Jun send you?”

“Nobody sent me,” Jin Ling muttered, sounding slightly annoyed. “I came here because—“ He stopped and bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to finish his sentence. “Because I wanted to see you.”

Lan Sizhui blinked at him before whispering a small, “Oh…” He folded his hands in his lap and gave him a concerned look. “Are you okay? Did you need help with something?”

Jin Ling shook his head and looked off to the side to avoid eye contact. “It’s just… we haven’t really talked since you got here and I thought maybe… maybe I did something to make you ignore me.” He mentally cursed at himself and dug the toe of his boot into the floor. “Never mind, forget I said anything, it’s stupid—“

“No,” Lan Sizhui interjected, looking up at him with a softness in his eyes and a frown on his lips. “It’s not stupid. I apologize for making you feel that way, Young Master Jin—I haven’t been ignoring you, I promise.”

Jin Ling’s eyes remained crestfallen as he peered at Lan Sizhui through his bangs.

His solemn expression didn’t go unnoticed by the Lan boy, who nodded at his books and smiled. “I know it sounds crazy but I’ve been studying. When I find something I really want to learn, I get a bit obsessed with it.”

Jin Ling surveyed the open books and lifted a brow. “So that’s what all this stuff is?”

Lan Sizhui nodded and patted the empty space next to him. “Come sit, I’ll show you what I’ve been working on. Maybe you can help me.”

The sudden invitation to join him sent Jin Ling’s heart racing but he quickly realized there was no graceful way to get to him. Lan Sizhui’s impressively large barricade of books made sure of that.

“Careful not to step on the books,” Lan Sizhui mentioned, “I haven’t paid for any of them yet.”

Jin Ling knelt down and grabbed one of the covers. “Why don’t I just close some of the—“

“NO!”

Jin Ling froze and stared at Lan Sizhui in bewilderment, not used to hearing him shout like that.

“Sorry,” said Lan Sizhui, “I’m still taking notes from that one.” He scanned the other books and pondered. “Maybe this one? No… oh! How about—eh, no…”

Jin Ling let out an exasperated sigh and awkwardly tiptoed between the small spaces, wobbling a bit off balance as he finally made it over. Lan Sizhui grabbed Jin Ling’s arm to steady him and gently guided him down to sit.

They were close enough that their shoulders pressed together and Lan Sizhui’s scent of orange blossom and cedar wood flooded Jin Ling’s senses, making him feel warm and lightheaded.

The aroma of ink and old books mixed in as Lan Sizhui dipped his brush and wrote a few notes. Jin Ling leaned over to read them and made a funny face. “Herbology?”

Lan Sizhui nodded. “I’ve been studying herbal remedies to use during night hunts in case anyone gets injured.” He pointed at one of the open books. “There’s also ways to use certain herbs for coating weapons and making them toxic to your enemies. We’d… have to use those carefully though, especially with Jingyi around. You know how he likes to touch things he shouldn’t be touching.”

Lan Sizhui laughed quietly and Jin Ling took a moment to get lost in the sound of the Lan boy’s voice, listening to him passionately go over what he’d learned.

Neither of them realized how close their faces were until Lan Sizhui turned to look at Jin Ling and accidentally brushed his nose against the other boy’s cheek.

Both of them jolted back and Lan Sizhui lifted his hand to his face, entirely forgetting about the brush he was holding. Jin Ling stared at him for a moment, then slowly broke into a fit of quiet laughter.

Lan Sizhui frowned and tilted his head. “What is it?”

“You—“ Jin Ling paused and swallowed another laugh, “You have ink on your face.”

“Oh!” Lan Sizhui reached his hand up to wipe it off. “Here?”

“Other side,” Jin Ling corrected.

Lan Sizhui wiped the other side of his face. “Did I get it?”

“No, it’s lower. By your nose—“ Jin Ling frowned as Lan Sizhui managed to miss it every single time. “L-Look, I’ll just… hold still.”

Lan Sizhui watched him curiously then blushed wildly as the young Jin disciple licked his thumb and leaned in close to clean the ink from his skin.

Something ignited in Lan Sizhui’s chest, molten and sparkling like drunken stars. All he could do was sit there and lose himself in every detail of Jin Ling’s captivating face, his amber eyes undeniably striking in the lantern light.

Jin Ling, on the other hand, noticed what he’d done and ripped himself away. He clutched at his robes above the knees and shook his bangs into his face, mortified by his own actions. “I-I’m sorry, that was—I don’t… I don’t know why I did that—“

“Is it gone?”

Jin Ling lifted his head to see Lan Sizhui smiling and pressing his fingertips to the flushed skin where Jin Ling had touched him, a dreamy glimmer in his amethyst eyes.

“It’s… it’s gone,” Jin Ling managed to mutter. He felt awkward, embarrassed and anxious but seeing Lan Sizhui’s smile settled his nerves a bit.

“Thank you, A-Ling.”

The heat invading Jin Ling’s cheeks was almost unbearable and he quickly filled the looming silence with whatever came to mind. “So… is this really all you’ve been doing all day?”

Lan Sizhui’s mind was still replaying Jin Ling’s hand on his face. The question confused him until he saw Jin Ling poking at one of the books. “Oh, um… well, not all day.” He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “The bookshop has to close eventually.”

Jin Ling gave him a suspicious look. “But you’re always gone until nightfall. Last time, you barely made it back by nine.” He lifted his chin and glared down his nose. “And don’t lie, I saw you running.”

Lan Sizhui blinked at him and laughed. “You’ve been watching me?”

“Wha—No!” Jin Ling crossed his arms and blew his bangs out of his face. “Don’t be ridiculous! I just happened to see you coming back a few times. I have more important stuff to do, you know.”

Lan Sizhui smiled fondly, unable to find the flustered Jin disciple anything less than adorable. ���Of course, A-Ling.”

Suddenly, Lan Sizhui began closing all of the books and stacking them together. Jin Ling watched as the barrier of herbology that gave them an excuse to be so close gradually disappeared. He felt a pang of sadness in the pit of his stomach but did his best to ignore it.

“What are you doing?” Jin Ling asked.

“The shop closes soon,” Lan Sizhui explained. “I’ll have to put some of these back before we leave.”

Jin Ling frowned. “I thought you wanted to buy them?”

Lan Sizhui packed his notes and ink into his qiankun pouch and smiled sheepishly. “I can’t buy all of them, they’re far too expensive. But that’s okay, I don’t need them—“

“Which ones do you want?” Jin Ling interjected, picking up one of the stacks as he got up from the floor.

Lan Sizhui grabbed the other stack and stood up with him. “That’s like asking me which rabbits I’d pick out of a litter.” He laughed and shook his head. “It really is fine, I can just come back and take more notes—“

“Sizhui,” Jin Ling said, his tone resolute. “Take them to the front. I’ll get them for you.”

“But…” As much as he wanted to object, he couldn’t find the right words without sounding ungrateful. “A-Ling, I really can’t afford to pay you back—“

“I’m not doing it so you’ll owe me,” Jin Ling interrupted, sounding a bit insulted. “I want to get them for you. They’re obviously important to you, so I want you to have them.”

Lan Sizhui’s eyes softened and his entire body deflated with defeat, always knowing better than to argue with a determined Jin. “Okay.”

Jin Ling immediately lit up at his acceptance. He adjusted the books in his arms and proudly marched to the front of the store with Lan Sizhui trailing modestly behind.

The shopkeeper’s eyes went wide as the two of them placed the stacks of books on the counter, followed by a large sum of money from Jin Ling’s wallet that Lan Sizhui was actively trying not to look at.

“Have these wrapped and sent to Koi Tower, to the Lan disciples’ guest rooms,” Jin Ling ordered. “Make sure they get there by tonight.”

The shopkeeper slowly nodded, staring at the money with a dumbfounded look. “Right away, Young Master! Thank you!”

Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui exited the shop together and stepped out into the now peaceful and quiet market street as the evening sun painted Lanling in warm gold.

The fresh air helped calm Lan Sizhui, especially after being holed up in the bookshop all day. He turned to the young Jin disciple beside him and smiled. “Thank you, A-Ling. I’m not sure if this would be repayment enough but would you like to see what’s been keeping me out so long? I think you’ll like it.”

Jin Ling eyed him curiously. “We’re… we’re not gonna go talk to ghosts, are we?”

Lan Sizhui laughed and shook his head. “No ghosts, I promise. This is something special.”

An electric feeling spiked Jin Ling’s heart rate. He wasn’t sure what Lan Sizhui meant by ‘special’ but it both excited and terrified him.

“I thought about keeping it to myself but I’d like to share it with you,” Lan Sizhui added. “We should leave before the sun sets. It’s best when there’s still daylight.”

“Let’s go,” Jin Ling blurted, almost prematurely. Lan Sizhui beamed at his instant response and gestured for him to follow.

They passed through the market streets, residential districts and eventually into Lanling’s farmlands. Lan Sizhui veered off of the main road, leading Jin Ling past a large pond and through the weeping leaves of an old willow.

As they emerged from the leaves, they were greeted by a seemingly endless grove of cherry blossom trees. Sunlight filtered through the canopies and colored the grove in ethereal shades of soft pink as a rain of loose petals delicately fluttered to the ground around them.

Lan Sizhui had already gone further ahead, his white robes a striking contrast against the backdrop of deep, rich bark and blushing blossoms. A few falling petals clung to his raven hair as he spun around with a bright smile on his face.

Beautiful as their surroundings were, Jin Ling’s eyes were hopelessly transfixed on the boy in front of him—his starlight skin in the pastel light, the wonder and joy sparkling in his amethyst eyes, the way each gentle breeze danced through his dark hair and waltzed with the ends of his forehead ribbon.

Jin Ling stared at him intensely and walked further into the grove, the thick layer of petals on the ground cushioning his steps and making him feel weightless.

Every nerve in his body screamed and ached as he walked. Then jogged. Then ran.

Lan Sizhui barely had time to react before Jin Ling’s body crashed into his. He would’ve been knocked backwards if Jin Ling’s arms hadn’t wrapped around his waist and grounded him.

The Lan boy’s eyes went wide and his heart skipped a beat before racing uncontrollably, small flurries of pink petals flying off of his robes from the impact. He looked down to find Jin Ling’s face buried against his chest, a subtle bouquet of scarlet peach and clove melding with his own scent of orange blossom and cedar wood.

For a moment, Lan Sizhui worried if Jin Ling was okay but the other disciple didn’t seem upset in the slightest. He was just holding him, as though he’d been waiting to hold him his entire life.

Without another thought, Lan Sizhui embraced Jin Ling, pressing their bodies even closer together. He sunk his fingers into the other boy’s long hair, cool and soft as burnt umber silk.

The world was quiet around them, save for a gentle breeze whispering through the cherry blossoms and matching the now peaceful rhythm of their heartbeats.

As if stirring from a dream, Jin Ling lazily lifted his head but kept his eyes downcast, still too nervous to look Lan Sizhui in the eyes in case everything happening really was his imagination.

But Lan Sizhui had an immaculate talent for making things feel both dreamlike and real. It was his low, gentle voice saying his name that finally gave Jin Ling the courage to look at him.

Lan Sizhui smiled one of his impossibly charming, lopsided smiles that made Jin Ling’s heart flutter and his head spin. The Lan boy’s head was covered in petals and Jin Ling instinctively reached up to dust them off as though he’d done so a million times before.

“You’re gonna turn into a cherry blossom tree,” Jin Ling muttered, fussing over every petal while knowing it was just an excuse to keep touching him.

Lan Sizhui chuckled and tilted his head. “If I do, will you come and visit me?”

Jin Ling narrowed his eyes, exactly as Lan Sizhui expected he would. He then mumbled a quick shut up—also expected.

What Lan Sizhui didn’t expect was Jin Ling’s hands abruptly cupping his face and pulling him down into a spontaneous yet timid kiss. He froze with shock, eyes wide as Jin Ling’s lips trembled against his.

After realizing Lan Sizhui didn’t kiss him back, Jin Ling’s hands slipped from the other boy’s face. Anxiety and mortification wracked his body as he stumbled backwards and clenched his shaking fists at his side. “I… I’m—“

Just as he was about to turn and run, Lan Sizhui lunged forward and grabbed his hand. “A-Ling, don’t—“

“I’m sorry,” Jin Ling choked, eyes glossed and burning. I ruined everything, he thought. “Sizhui, I’m—“

He wasn’t given the chance to repeat his apology as Lan Sizhui tugged him into another embrace. “Don’t go,” he whispered. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

The second Jin Ling’s strained posture relaxed in his arms, Lan Sizhui felt tears soaking into the lapels of his robes. He barely pulled away to smile down at the young Jin disciple, lifting a hand to brush his hair out of his face and wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“You really know how to make someone speechless, A-Ling,” Lan Sizhui jested. “Can we try that again?”

Jin Ling nodded up at him, shivering when Lan Sizhui’s fingertips brushed along his jaw and tilted his chin. The Lan boy’s thumb gently passed over Jin Ling’s bottom lip before he leaned in close and…

The kiss was nothing like Jin Ling’s impulsive, hesitant crashing of lips.

Lan Sizhui’s kiss was soft, slow and confident, giving Jin Ling the overwhelming assurance that both of them wanted this. He stood on the tips of his toes, launching himself deeper into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around Lan Sizhui’s neck and carded his fingers through his raven hair.

The blush on both boy’s cheeks had never burned so bright as they explored and experimented with angles, movements, holding each other’s face, neck, waist. Neither of them had the slightest idea what they were doing, having never kissed anyone before but they quickly found a steady rhythm with each other’s guidance.

Jin Ling let his guard fall entirely, feeling dizzy and wanted and safe in Lan Sizhui’s arms. His surrender emboldened Lan Sizhui to hold him tighter, kiss him deeper, anything to let him know how elated he was that his feelings for him were requited.

They slowly broke the kiss but stayed close, warm breaths tickling each other's skin as they exhaled. Lan Sizhui surprised Jin Ling by pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. He smiled against his skin and Jin Ling stared at him in a trance, unable to look away.

A few cherry blossom petals fluttered between their faces, bringing the world around them back into focus. Lan Sizhui looked up to find that the bright evening light was now a deep orange, blanketing the grove in hazy twilight. “It’ll be dark soon,” he said, looking back at Jin Ling. “There’s one more thing I wanted to show you but I’d hate to get you in trouble with Sect Leader Jiang.”

Jin Ling recalled finding his uncle with Nie Huaisang at the tea house, knowing all too well that Jin Ling was the last thing on their minds. “Trust me, he’s occupied.” He absentmindedly played with a lock of Lan Sizhui’s hair as he continued. “Besides, he’ll only come here if I use a flare, so unless you plan on murdering me or something…”

Lan Sizhui blinked at him and laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t make a habit of murdering people I lo—“He stopped himself and nervously glanced at his feet.

“People you…?” Jin Ling raised a curious brow and waited for him to finish, his heart beating quicker.

“P-People I care about,” Lan Sizhui sputtered.

Jin Ling knew that wasn’t what he originally meant to say but it was still painfully sweet and the Lan boy was hopelessly adorable when he was flustered. “Well, good,” Jin Ling asserted, eyes narrowing mischievously. “Don’t think I wouldn’t fight back just because I like you.”

Lan Sizhui grinned admiringly, the young Jin disciple’s playfulness easing his nerves. “I’d expect nothing less. But you’ll never have to worry about that, A-Ling.”

Hearing his name in the low, dulcet tone of Lan Sizhui’s voice made the tips of Jin Ling’s ears redden and his chest flood with light. He looked down and fidgeted with one of his bracers. “So… what else did you want to show me?”

“Oh!” Lan Sizhui’s face illuminated with recollection as he broke himself out of the amorous spell they’d both been under. He glanced up at the darkening sky and smiled. “Perfect timing.”

Lan Sizhui held his hand out to Jin Ling who took it without hesitation, his mind immediately obsessing over the comforting sensation of the Lan boy’s strong, slender fingers wrapping around his own.

They moved further into the grove until they came upon a large cherry blossom tree that caved into an alcove at the base of its trunk. The two disciples sat down together and nestled into the space, Jin Ling quickly realizing the tree was giving him another chance to cozy up with the handsome boy beside him.

The wind seemed to approve of this scenario as a cold gust of night air whipped past and made him shiver against Lan Sizhui who was quick to act, shrugging off his outer robe and chivalrously draping it over Jin Ling’s shoulders. He wrapped his arm around him and held him closer as he nodded towards the grove. “Ready?”

Jin Ling mentally thanked the night for masking the blush on his face and leaned against Lan Sizhui, soaking up the warmth of his embrace.

Just then, something in the grove caught his eye. Little glowing balls of green light began flickering to life all around them—clinging to the grass, floating in the air, dappling the cherry blossoms’ canopies with ethereal fluorescence.

Jin Ling’s eyes lit up and darted everywhere, an excited smile spreading across his face. “Fireflies!”

Lan Sizhui grinned at his reaction and nodded. “They seem to like it here, probably because it’s so close to the pond—Ah! Hold on.”

He removed his arm from around Jin Ling, who frowned and huddled closer as Lan Sizhui rummaged through his qiankun pouch and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Jin Ling asked.

“I think I left my extra parchment at the bookshop,” Lan Sizhui explained. “I usually continue studying out here, but…” He glanced at Jin Ling then closed his qiankun pouch and smiled. “It’s not important, especially right now.”

Jin Ling suddenly straightened, remembering the notebook he’d bought for him at the market. A warm expression verging on bashful washed over his face as he fiddled with the leather pouch at his waist. “Um… A-Yuan?”

Lan Sizhui raised his brows in surprise, making sure he heard him right.

“Don’t get mad at me,” Jin Ling started, “But I got you something else from the market.”

The Lan boy watched curiously as Jin Ling removed something wrapped in cloth from the pouch on his belt and handed it to him. Lan Sizhui carefully unwrapped it while Jin Ling rambled nervously.

“If… if you don’t like it, it’s okay. I can take it back or you can give it to someone else or—“

Lan Sizhui’s mouth fell open upon seeing the magical cover of the notebook that emerged from the fabric—rich sky blue decorated with silver clouds and rabbits glimmering brilliantly in the moonlight. Occasional flashes of green reflected in the silver from the fireflies flitting above.

He gingerly ran his fingers along the cover and smiled, shaking his head. “How could I be mad at you? This is beautiful, A-Ling. But…”

Jin Ling’s heart sank for a moment before Lan Sizhui finished his sentence.

“It looks expensive. I hope you didn’t have to pay too much for it.”

The young Jin disciple exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding and narrowed his eyes. “You—what did I say earlier?! Don’t worry about that.” He pulled Lan Sizhui’s robe tighter around his shoulders and mumbled, “It’s… it’s just something I thought you’d like.”

Lan Sizhui gently nudged his shoulder against Jin Ling’s and beamed. “I love it. Thank you.”

Jin Ling huffed and leaned into him, watching the fireflies as the Lan boy fished his brush and ink pot from his qiankun pouch and began writing in the notebook.

Curiosity eventually took hold of Jin Ling and he looked down at the page to see a drawing of a flower he didn’t recognize, followed by a brief description:

Golden petals like velvet sun. Thorns are deceptive, soft to the touch. Defiantly grows alone but flourishes with others when given the chance. Unparalleled beauty. Inspires an overwhelming sense of euphoria when seen or touched.

He furrowed his brow after reading. “What kind of flower is that?”

Lan Sizhui looked up from the notebook with a smile. “A very special one.”

Jin Ling glanced around the grove and frowned. “I don’t see any flowers like that here.” He looked up at Lan Sizhui with a pout. “You’ll have to show it to me sometime.”

Lan Sizhui responded by leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead, making Jin Ling’s cheeks redden. “I will.”

The young Jin disciple rested his head against the Lan boy’s shoulder and watched the fireflies waltz with falling blossoms in the tranquil grove. Lan Sizhui sighed contentedly and continued writing, eyes frequently wandering to Jin Ling as he added more notes about the ‘flower.’

Sweet to taste, heaven to hold, a privilege to love—

Someday, he’ll see what I see.

{ 🖤 }

[agentmika]

Michael Cunningham, from “The Hours,” originally published c. 1998 / The Man Who Would Be King written by Ben Edlund first aired May 11th, 2011

[pleasantanathema]

Sinful Hymns

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Hair pulling, some rough sex, sex on a desk, religious allusions, a dash of authority kink, no spoilers past early season 1

Word Count: 4k

A/N: In celebration of Season 4 of Attack on Titan airing today, here’s a fulfilled request for Commander Handsome 💕 Thank you so much to the anon who requested this, I had so much fun writing this!

           You couldn’t sleep. There was a nagging in your mind, shadowy visions of titans ascending mountains, climbing walls—the same nightmares that plagued you ever since you joined the scouts all those years ago. You found yourself in the showers, all alone scrubbing away your sins and torments. But even a cleansing couldn’t seem to quell your thoughts, so you roamed.

           The meandering halls of the old scout regiment headquarters were cold, musty, unwelcoming even with Levi’s cleaning. Glimmering lamp light under a cracked door caught your attention, the only light you’d seen while on your stroll.

           The Commander was still awake.

           You weren’t sure what compelled you to stop, to bring your knuckles to rap against the wood of the door. You’d once been quite close with Erwin, back when you were both cadets and working your way up the ranks, but he’d become quite elusive since becoming the Commander. You’d always been interested in him, found your gaze lingering on him a little too long when was around. There was some kind of irresistible, seductive pull towards him, like if you got close enough, he might let you explore the man under the armor. You wondered if he felt it, too, or if your lust was one-sided.

          You were just too curious about what would keep him awake at night. Maybe he struggled with the same miseries you did when the nights felt too dark.

          Tentatively, you slid past the open door.

          Blue eyes caught your movement, his handsome face tilting towards you from where it was seated in his palm.

          He whispered your name, smile tugging at his cheeks.

          “Commander Smith,” you acknowledged, “you’re up quite late.”

          “Seems I’m not the only one.” There was an amusement in his voice that you couldn’t quite place.

          He leaned back in his chair as you stayed in your place, a sudden rise of bashfulness making you bite at the inside of your lip. You were sure you were pestering him; you should’ve just wandered back to your room. Your feet were ready to move, heels pressed against the floor to turn and leave at his behest.

          “Is there something I can help you with?”

          “I—no, I just couldn’t sleep. Apologies, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

          “No, you’re no bother. Rather, you’re quite a pleasant distraction at the moment,” he gestured to his desk, littered with paperwork and books opened to forgotten pages, “come in, shut the door behind you.”

           You did as you were so kindly told, clicking the door into place behind you before moving in closer. His office was warm, bathed in dim candlelight from the lamp on his desk, shadows being cast from the bookshelves that lined the walls. You noticed he was in only a white button-down and trousers, his ODM gear placed neatly on a chest behind where he sat.

          Your hands came to rest on the chair that was placed in front of his desk for his visitors. You remained standing, not quite ready to be so familiar as to just sit and talk with him. There was humor in his eyes as they scanned your figure, undoubtedly surprised to see you dressed so casually as well, simple pants and shirt being all you brought to wear after taking your late-night shower.

          “Tell me, what keeps you awake?”

           There were many answers to his question, but you erred on the side of simplicity.

           “Nightmares. What about you? What’s kept you awake tonight?”

            Erwin sighed, deep and heavy from his chest. You observed how his long fingers gripped at the armrest of his seat, knuckles white.

           “Letters. Demands from the Military Police to hand over the boy who turns into a titan, demands from royalty to execute him. But also my own curiosities. I’ve been reading to see if there are any records of anyone else like him.”

           “I see,” your tongue clicked behind your lips as you recognized the heaviness bound within his broad shoulders, “anything I can help you with?”

           He smiled fully then, white teeth curving against his pretty lips.

          “Like I said, you’re a welcome distraction. How have you been?”

           Again, there were too many ways to answer his question. But you couldn’t bring yourself to bring your burdens to him, not when he was already carrying the weight of the world upon his back.

          “Life isn’t as simple as it used to be,” not that living in this world had ever been easy.

          “No, I’m afraid it isn’t.”

           You caught an etching of the walls on his desk, details of Sina and Maria partially obscured by a leather-bound book, penciled in lines and notes scribbled around the paper’s edges. Something about it drew you in, had you moving to perch on the edge of his desk, one thigh crinkling pages of ink as your fingers deftly plucked at the drawing.

           He watched you with curiosity, eyebrows lifted as he brought a hand to his chin.

          Your nail traced against the charcoal lines, gaze scanning the comprehensive sketch of the rounded walls and the cities held within them.

         “My father used to think there was some kind of power within the walls; believed there was some unseen magic lingering within the stones to keep us safe…” you trailed off, the rest of your thoughts caught within your throat, “...I’m glad he wasn’t alive when the walls were breached, would’ve ruined the mystery for him.”

         “Was he a believer in the Church of the Walls?”

         “No,” you hummed softly, “just someone who thought there was more to the story.”

          Quite like yourself, you wanted to say, but left the words unspoken. You set the yellowing paper back on his desk, arms crossing.

          He rolled his shoulders in a quiet stretch, running a tired hand through his blonde undercut as he looked up at you. You’d always found him overwhelmingly handsome, the kind of man who changed the atmosphere of a room when he walked in. But there was always a warmth to him, like there was always something brewing, churning inside that enticing mind of his.

          “I never could understand how people could worship the walls,” he mused, shifting his weight forward, getting a little closer to where you were perched, “not when there are other, more...beautiful things to praise.”

          Heat crept up the back of your neck, your too-close proximity to him becoming all too apparent. But he kept getting closer.

          His hand found your knee, fingers trailing over the tight threads of your pants.

          The act seemed endearing, harmless, but the simple touch had your desire rearing its sordid head again. You felt emboldened, confidence swelling in your chest.

         “Then what would you worship, Erwin?”

         “I’m a man of too many sins, I doubt there’s any kind of faith that could bring me absolution.”

          Your fingers ached to touch him, your hand reaching toward his face before your mind could stop the movement. His cheek was warm, skin soft under the brush of your thumb.

          “I don’t believe that. There has to be something beautiful for you to admire…” you felt his fingers tighten against your leg, drifting higher up your thigh, pulling you in, bringing you closer.

          “I could start with you.”

          The tension snapped, splitting like a tightly strung cord between you. You heeded the call to be nearer, moving your hand to rest against his shoulder for balance as you took the initiative to settle yourself in his lap. For a moment, you worried that you pushed too far, that you’d invaded his personal space and made him uncomfortable. But those fears were battered quickly when eager hands took hold of your waist, palms spread wide as they trailed up your back.

          “I’ve always admired you from afar,” he was hushed, breath fanning over your neck, “but you’re much easier to worship up close.”

          You kissed him without a second thought. Years of attraction, of adoration, fueled your lips, your hands grasping at his jawline as he met your passion. His mouth slanted against yours ardently, impatient hands slipping under your shirt.

          You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose at the feel of his warm fingers ghosting up your skin, now suddenly very aware you hadn’t bothered to wear anything below your clothes—you thought you’d be returning to your room, not wandering into your Commander’s lap. You moaned into his mouth, his tongue slipping past your parted lips to taste you. You were overcome with too much, all your senses now flooding with Erwin, his scent, his touch, his entire being smothering you with all the attentions you had ever craved from him.

          His thumbs brushed the undersides of your breasts, a groan leaving his chest when you settled lower into his lap, your thighs draped over his own and your core pressed against his hardening cock.

          This wasn’t real—this couldn’t be real, surely you were caught up in one of your dreams again, but his lips against yours felt real, felt hungry, his large hands now cupping and holding the weight of your breasts within his hands. Your fingers carded through his hair, nails delicately raking through the roots to remind yourself that it was him, that this was real.

          “You taste like sin,” he praised, peppering kisses down the column of your throat.

          Any thought you had of replying disappeared when strong fingers pinched at your nipples, causing a heavy moan to fall out of your mouth as your head tilted back, allowing him more access to your neck. He plucked tenderly at your sensitive flesh, a noticeable smirk growing upon his lips as each tug and roll of your breasts had you gasping, whining. He quite liked that, it seemed, to be able to play you so easily.

          You mumbled curses into the air, eyes fluttering closed. You experimentally rolled your hips in his lap, an attempt to get a similar rise from him. He bared his teeth against your throat, canines nipping into your skin before pressing his lips down more forcefully, sucking and lapping at your neck. Heat bloomed from where his mouth met your body, a telling sign that you would have a mark there to remember him by. He was careful, choosing a supple spot below where the collar of your uniform would cover you tomorrow.

           Erwin’s hands released your aching breasts, moving down to grasp at the hem of your shirt.

          “Take this off,” he demanded, a string of saliva still connecting his lips to your neck.

           You dropped your hands from his hair, trailing down his broad chest before meeting his hands and pulling your shirt up over your head. It fell to the floor carelessly, the chill of the room making your skin pebble with gooseflesh.

           You took note of how his cheeks were flushed pink, blush faint across his elegant aquiline nose.

           His intimidating, icy eyes flickered up to you, making your own flush spread across your body. You felt like he was looking through you, reading your thoughts, hearing your internal screams for more. Then, his gaze fell back to your heaving breasts, hands greedily taking them again, lips wrapping around one of your nipples and making you whimper.

           You could feel his cock pressing against you now, harder and thicker than before, the ridge of it nestled against your throbbing cunt. You rolled yourself against it, delighted sounds leaving both of your mouths at the contact. His tongue swirled around your puckered nipple, teeth just barely daring to drag against your flesh. You buried your fingers into his shoulders, feeling his muscles tighten and then relax at your touch.

          “Oh-oh fuck, I—,”

          “You’re dripping,” he interrupted, one of his hands unclasping from your breast and drifting down your belly to rub at the damp spot between your legs, “I can feel you against me.”

           You shivered at the wanton touch, thighs clenching against his legs.

          “Did you come here tonight to seduce me?”

           He mumbled the words against your breast, tongue flattening against your nipple with a few long, heavy licks as his eyes flashed up to you, waiting for your response.

           “No, sir, I promise that wasn’t my,” you moaned as a thick finger slid against your clit through your clothes, “that wasn’t my intention.”

           His wet lips left your breast, coy smirk painting his face.

          “Shame, that was my plan the moment you stepped into my office.”

           You always did fall for his tricks; if only you’d known his hand against your thigh earlier wasn’t so harmless after all.

          “And how did this plan of yours end, Commander?”

           It still felt strange to call him by that title after so many years of calling him by his name, but there was something sensual about it, something alluring about his newfound authority.

           His hands were pushing at your hips, fingers crushing into your skin as he lifted you to move back.

          “With you bent over my desk.”

           It didn’t take him long to wrangle you into the position he so desired. His hands were unhurried, purposeful as he pushed you to stand, peeling your pants down your legs before pressing your face into the pile of papers on his desk. You felt so exposed, what with him being able to see your pussy on display from behind you while all you could focus on was his touch and the way the flame at the edge of his desk flickered.

           Erwin’s fingers spread the folds of your cunt, an appreciative hum sounding from his throat. You mewled at the touch, thighs shaking in your anticipation. The button to his pants popped softly, then you finally felt him, felt his hard, thick cock nudging at your entrance.

           Your hands crumpled a few pages as you searched for something to cling to. Your heart was pounding in your ears, suddenly all too aware that the Commander was still fully clothed, while you were laid out across his desk like a naked whore. One of his hands pulled at your hip, the other trailing down the expanse of your back.

           There was a boldness coming to life inside you at the realization that he’d wanted you the moment you appeared within his room.

           “Worth worshipping, Erwin?”

            You ate your words as he shoved himself inside you, stretching you to your limits as your body burned to accommodate his size. You cried out against the mass of papers, eyes blurring as pleasure burst across all of your nerve endings.

            He groaned at the feeling himself, both hands now digging into the meat of your hips.

            “Fuck,” you heard him breath in deep as he slid is cock out of you before slamming in again, “oh absolutely, darling.”

            You hadn’t heard Erwin curse before.

            But you didn’t have time to dwell on your thoughts, not with him now moving ruthlessly inside you, hips snapping against your ass with every sharp, deep thrust. Little sounds left your lips with every plunge, blissful tingles stemming from where your bodies were conjoined. You loved how you could feel the head of his fat cock dragging along your walls, thick veins throbbing under silken skin.

             You were far past believing this was a dream, now convinced you were actually in the sweet joys of a paradise beyond life.

             A coil of pleasure began to tighten within your lower stomach, hot and mean, like it was ready to tear and erupt with a rush of ecstasy. You moaned his name like a prayer, eyes closed tightly as you focused on the intensity of his cock thrusting inside you.

             You wouldn’t last long, not with the sinful hymns of his grunts and praises resounding behind you. His sounds were faint, but they were there, little rumbling of “so good, so tight,” kissing at your ears.

             God, you could die. You could die and live a happy, full life from this moment alone. You felt so whole with him inside you, felt coated with desire and praise like never before. There were bruises already forming from his grip, you could feel them, skin sore and burning beneath his massive hands.

             “You’re beautiful wrapped around my cock,” he voiced, tone deep and praising, brawny arm sweeping up your spine to fist in your hair. Your head jerked with his action, back arching as he pulled at you. You gasped at the discomfort, a dull ache forming from his too-tight grip. But the pain was overshadowed by the rivers of rapture running over your skin. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, your whole body rebounding like snapping elastic from his brutal behavior.

             The new angle had his cock slamming against that spot inside you that had your body going almost numb from the pleasure, white hot heat spreading over all your limbs, making your toes curl against the floor. You felt like you were fracturing, that thrilling tendril tightening in your belly to its breaking point. You could feel your walls sucking in his cock, your body pleading on its own.

             “Oh fuck, Commander—Erwin,” you were completely lost to the delirium, mind ruined.

            “I know,” he grunted, fingers stiffening in your hair, craning your neck back farther, “I feel you, you’re so—you’re so fucking tight.”

            You crashed down around him, your cunt clenching and pulsing in waves of euphoria, each crest making your lower muscles spasm. Your chin fell, your head only being held by the might of his hand, your brain so foggy with lust and release that you felt as if you had ascended the walls too quickly and fallen back down again. A fresh, euphoric jolt splintered down your body as he sheathed his cock fully into your depths, making your eyes flutter as your mouth opened in a glorious, blissed out state.

           Your body threatened to crumple against the desk, but he held you; the space between his palms and strong fingers was one of the safest places in the world, nothing could touch you if Erwin had you beneath his touch. The fierce tightening of your body sent him over the edge. Hot cum poured inside of you, making you cry out at the captivating feeling of being completely filled by him, the Commander’s seed pooling within your pussy. Your snug walls struggled to flutter around the girth of his cock, prolonging your orgasm and leaving you gasping for breath and basking in every dull thump of his cock inside of you.

           He gently let go of your hair, letting your spent body rest against the desk as he caught his breath. He smoothed his hands over your hips, a tinge of regret in his chest as he noticed the dark prints of his fingers etched into your skin. Erwin wasn’t used to letting go, to letting lust overtake him so mercilessly.

           You stirred after a few moments, straightening your back and finding your balance between your legs. Erwin enveloped you in his arms, hand against your cheek as he trailed his lips up your neck, capturing the side of your mouth with a fervent kiss.

          “Are you alright, darling?” Concern laced his tone, hand smoothing over your belly. You shuttered at the gentle touch, your skin cooling from sweat as you leaned back against his chest, cum sticky and crawling down your thighs.

           You still felt lost, like you were waking from the dark depths of slumber, his hands calling you to him. One palm wrapped around your neck, stroking at the column of your throat like he was helping you to find your breath.

          “Yes, yes I’m…,” you couldn’t think of the words to describe just how you felt. It was like you’d finally been cleansed, every grievous thought expunged from your mind, but also like you’d fallen back into the past, back into your daydreams of wishing Erwin would press you against the barracks wall and smothering his name from your mouth.

         “It is yes sir, to you, don’t forget I’m your superior now,” he teased between nips and kisses, a smile brushing against your skin.

         You turned in his arms, pressing your naked chest against his wrinkled shirt, the cotton soft against your breasts. You stood on your toes to try and match his height, molding your lips to his, stealing his grin and making it your own.

          “I could never forget, not with such a display of power,” you affirmed, seriousness apparent on your tongue. You knew he could take anything he wanted from you, and you were more than willing to lay yourself bare for him whenever he pleased.

          You expected there to be a stillness between you, a moment of reflection after such a callous coupling. But Erwin’s hands were greedy, selfish, cupping and kneading at the soft flesh of your ass, of the side of your breast. You were small in his shadow; a miniscule frame being devoured by a starved predator.

          “I want to see just how well you obey orders. Go to my quarters and wait for me, I’m not finished with you yet.”

           Your head nodded accordingly, your knees ready to kneel to the floor and gather your forgotten garments. But Erwin kept his fingers in your flesh, preventing you from moving from his hold when you tried.

           “Ah, I don’t think you need your clothing, not when you’ll just be shedding it again so soon.”

           There was a playful glint in his eyes, his eyebrows thoughtfully pressed together as he tried to gauge your response.

           “Erwin,” his hands cinched around your body, an acute reminder, “sir, I can’t...walk to your room naked.”

           He patted your backside before he sat back into the chair behind his desk, cock tucked neatly back into his pants. There was still a pretty blush tingeing his cheeks, his lips plump and dark pink from all their time spent sucking at your skin. You almost wanted to cover yourself under his scrutinizing gaze, icy irises roaming your body like a piece of art bought and hung on a wall for his viewing pleasure.

           “It’s late, there shouldn’t be anyone to find you,” he relaxed, arms crossing across his chest, “but, if you happen to be unfortunate, remind them that you are under your Commander’s orders.”

           Erwin took a sick delight in watching your eyes narrow at him, your lips pursing in slight irritation; but he knew you wouldn’t dare disobey him, you’d always been too good of a soldier for that, and now a promising plaything.

           He couldn’t help but survey your body as you walked towards the door, delicious curves and marks from his skin on an alluring display, his cum still flowing down your thighs. You’d be a blessed sight to anyone who got the privilege to see you on your journey to his sleeping quarters, a goddess floating down the corridors.

           You looked over your shoulder at him when you opened the door, catching his diligent gaze and matching it. He always thought you’d be amusing to toy with and you’d proven that with how easily you could match his intensity.

           “You shouldn’t be up so late, Commander Smith, nothing good happens after midnight.”

           He hid the smirk behind his hand as you left his office the same as you entered, only bare-skinned and with a new, more suitable destination.

[blueeyedrat]

Steam Next Fest! New name, same idea: a large library of demos for new and upcoming games to try out. In between finishing up some games and assorted projects, and starting up some games I've been meaning to get around to, I was able to find time for some demos that caught my eye.

More comments under the cut:

Sable - This was the first and last demo I tried this time around, and it's a game I've been intrigued by for quite a while. I wasn't actually able to finish the demo either time I played; I fell out of bounds and had to restart the first time, and it crashed later on during the second. It doesn't run well on my old laptop, I suppose... which is a shame, because technical issues aside, I was really enjoying it! I don't play open-world stuff all that often, but this one definitely scratched an itch. It reminded me a lot of Zelda with a similar "run everywhere and climb everything" vibe. Gliding through the air and crossing the vast dunes on a hoverbike felt pretty satisfying, too. The designs are distinctive and visually striking, the music is nice, and the demo provides just enough hints about both the setting and Sable herself to leave me wanting more.

Terra Nil - A "reverse city builder" about restoring life to a barren wasteland. I wish I had more to say about this one, but it's another one for the "I wish my laptop could run this game better" column: the demo kept crashing before I could really get into it. I liked what little I was able to play, though. The gameplay was pretty intuitive, and the aesthetic was quite lovely. Will definitely be keeping an eye on this game, one way or another.

Patrick's Parabox - A sokoban puzzler with a recursive twist: rooms nested in other rooms, and in some cases, rooms nested within themselves. The extra dimension adds a fun spin on the base sokoban gameplay, and the demo showcased some fun ways it could be used for puzzles. I recommend looking into it if you're interested in games of this sort.

Harmony's Odyssey - A puzzle game about unscrambling colorful dioramas. The art style's cute and appealing, and the puzzles were fine, but it didn't seem to have a lot of depth beyond its basic mechanic. The interface was a bit awkward, too; the camera was either too far zoomed in to see all of the pieces, or too far zoomed out to see any of them. It was charming enough, but I'm not sure I'll be delving into it further.

Little Witch in the Woods - From one cute-witch-themed game to another, and another game I've been curious about for a while. A chill life sim with a cozy setting, a colorful cast of characters, a variety of flora and fauna to discover, and a focus on magic and potion-making rather than ordinary farming. Very charming, but also very slow-paced. While it is satisfying to process resources and concoct potions, foraging for said resources is a slow grind, and it's all too easy for your efforts to go to waste because you accidentally tossed a potion bottle in the wrong direction. Still, it seems like quite a pleasant time if you have the patience for it. I'm undecided if it's the sort of game for me, but I'm willing to wait and see.

Faerie Afterlight - An exploration puzzle-platformer with a bright, beautiful visual style. Gameplay-wise, the movement feels nice and has potential to be pretty interesting: the demo starts off with your character having just unlocked the ability to jump and wall-jump, you obtain a dash later on, and more abilities will likely come further in the game. It has some unique mechanics (like controlling a secondary character who can interact with gates and possess enemies) and the combat is okay, but the demo stumbles once or twice when it demands you manage all of these aspects simultaneously. Seems like an alright game, even if it didn't stand out to me like other games on this list.

Unpacking - A meditative puzzle game about arranging everyday objects in rooms. This is another one I've been interested in, and now that I've tried it for myself... there's a lot to unpack, if you'll excuse my wording. There's a certain weight to nostalgia and sentimentality, even when it's tied up in mundane objects like books and toys. The comfortable and familiar, the things we keep with us, and the things we discard or leave behind, everyone values them differently. Even in a brief demo, Unpacking manages to encapsulate this idea in a way that few other games can. Each segment is a snapshot of a different moment in a person's life. Through the simple task of sorting through their belongings and finding a place for everything, you learn about this person, and a narrative emerges. What they take with them, what they leave behind, and what they pick up along the way. It's a fascinating little game, and one that could be emotionally compelling in ways I was not prepared for.

OGOPOGO - An arcade puzzle game about making palindrome block chains. ...Have you ever stumbled across a game that feels like it was made specifically for you? I had never heard of this one until a few days ago when I was perusing the Steam demo list. It's a simple concept, but it trips the pattern-finding part of my brain in very pleasing ways. I can see myself sinking a lot of idle time into this one when it comes out.

TOEM - Quite a pleasant game to round out the list. There's been a renaissance of photography games over the past year or so; I still have New Pokémon Snap and Beasts of Maravilla Island waiting in the wings, and I can think of half a dozen other titles either already out or near on the horizon. It's easy to see the appeal, since it's a sort of game that inherently rewards exploration and discovery while also being pretty chill and low-stress. TOEM looks to be a fine example, with a simple, charming black-and-white art style, and a friendly and inviting world to run around in and complete tasks with your camera. Take a picture, it'll last longer.

A few technical bumps on the road, but a nice selection of games regardless. See you next time.

[fandomscombine]

Love and Sacrifice

A Fred Weasley x Reader and Adrian Pucey x Reader

BG: Fred didn’t know what went wrong. One moment you were happy together the next you reappear after months of silence only to came back engaged to Adrian Pucey. But what he doesn’t know is that you made the ultimate sacrifice for him.

Contains: Forbidden love. Arranged marriage. Angst alert! Get ready to feel the pain.

A/N: Was supposed to be just an outline, but kinda became a straight up full fic.

WC:1662

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

Weeks leading up to the day that Fred and George were to leave Hogwarts to start Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Fred had noticed you becoming distant. Though he didn’t put much though into that as to NEWTS coming up and you had been staying up most nights helping them sort out the joke shop’s paperwork instead of revising. He knew that this situation would be temporary and once you graduated, you would be moving out of your strict parent’s house to live in with him- as you both had planned.

However, after graduation, you were still giving him the cold shoulder and not replying to his letters. Even his siblings had noticed that after they left, you were acting weird-not talking much, low energy and generally not feeling like yourself.  Although you had sat with the remaining Weasleys on the Hogwarts Express, you were unusually quiet, a shell of your past self. Similar to Fred, his younger sibling attributed this behaviour to being anxious in knowing the results of your NEWTS, which were set to arrive mid-July.

Fast-forward to a few weeks after graduation, you are now engaged to Adrian Pucey. You both were walking around Diagon Alley, doing some wedding shopping when a certain shop comes into view. Of course, you had only seen the concept art and blueprints, so you had an idea what it would look like, but it was even more magical seeing it in person.

Adrian catches a sight of your face and understands, understand that these past few weeks with him had been a whirlwind and acknowledges that you and Fred would need closure for both for you to move on.  Adrian gave your hand a squeeze, ‘Go on y/n, I know you want to.’ Beckoning towards the shop. ‘We should at least give him the decency to tell him in person rather than him finding it out in the daily prophet that you are soon to be married.  We are gonna have “The wedding of the year” as they call it.’

The whole time you were reluctant to approach him. Unable to predict how he would react to you popping up out of the blue.

With hands in your pocket, hiding your ring. You call out to him after 3 long months.

‘y/n?’ Fred did double take, almost not believing that you were real, the actual y/n that he loved, that disappeared is now within reach.

Emotions came rushing back. How foolish did you think that months apart, forcing him out of your mind would diminish everything you felt. Panicking, you dashed to the door.

Nevertheless, his long legs had quickly caught up to you. He tries to stop you from leaving him again, holding your arm back, you resisted yanking away his grasp.

His hand slides past yours, accidentally pulling off you ring too.

It falls to the ground.

Fred kneels down, getting to it first.

It’s even funny really, you though that he would be at that position before. Of course, under different circumstances.

He stares at the ring.

Right then Adrian reaches your side. “What are you doing with my fiancée’s ring?”

“Fiancée?”

‘Yeah my fiancée’ Adrian interlocks your hands. ‘The soon to be Mrs. y/n Pucey’

Fred chokes on air, turning redder than you’ve ever seen, you can see the veins in his arms contract.

The only time you saw him like this was when Malfoy insulted his family back in Year 5 quidditch match.

You turn to Adrian, with soft eyes.

He nods, understanding what you were asking. ‘I’ll be right outside, okay?’

‘Thank you.’

However, when you turned back, Fred was already walking away.

‘Fred! Wait!’ you finally caught up to him ‘Can we talk? Please.’

He stops, nodding though not bothering to face you. ‘In here.’ Leading you to his office.

Crossing his arms, he mocked. ‘So this is why you weren’t returning my messages.’

‘Fred….’

‘Cause you were with him all this time.’

‘NO!!! No… I wasn’t believe me.’

‘Then why?’ Fred was emotionally exhausted. ‘I just had the love of his life reappear after months of silence, only to find out that she’s engaged to someone else, someone I know she practically strangers with!’ Fred runs his hand through his hair, leaning defeated against the table. ‘Why did you leave me? You just disappear, like we didn’t have history. y/n. NO note. NO explanation. Just silence.’

‘Remember when you and George were trying to get this place up and running?’

‘Yea but what’s it got to do with all this?’

You raised a hand to stop him.

‘Do you recall that all your efforts were being blocked? The lease, the permits…..’ you exhaled. ‘Apparently that was my father’s doing.’

‘Your father??’

You nodded.

‘News got to him that we were dating- and no I don’t know how, but it did.’ You added, knowing what’s on his mind. ‘You know how my father is... with his traditional ways. He couldn’t believe that his only daughter was seeing a blood traitor. There was no way he would allow it.’ You shook your head.  ‘So he used his influence in the ministry, pulled some strings in order to do whatever he could to stop you from building the joke shop.’

‘You and George were being held back with one thing to another, it’s unheard of to have a business struggle so much just to get the right paperwork. So I did some digging, I had my suspicions then, I knew it had someone powerful but what was curious was that you were faced with all these constant barriers that couldn’t possibly be an authority being throughout with the paperwork. No, it was more inclined to someone with a personal grudged.’ You explained.

‘So, I took a chance and confronted my father.’ Continuing on, you sneered. ‘It was funny cause he didn’t even bother to deny my allegations, said he was doing the right thing.’ You air quoted.  ‘And that if I wanted it to stop. He would do so immediately, under the condition that I break up with you and agree to have an arranged marriage.’

‘What?’ Fred shocked by your confession. ‘y/n. Why did you agree? ’

‘It was the hardest thing I had to do, but I knew that it was for the best.’ You looked at him with melancholy. ‘It would be the best for you.’

 ‘You thought it would be the best for me, did you honestly thought that I would agree to this huh y/n?’ Fred challenged.

 ‘I did it so that you would have a bright and happy future, even if it meant that I won’t be in the picture.’

He scoffs.

‘Freddie..’ When he wouldn’t look at you, you tried again. ‘love…’

He winces at the nickname.

‘You have been wanting to turn this dream of having your own joke shop into a reality for the longest time. I know that burning unstoppable passion you have in bringing joy into the world ever since I’ve known you.’ Moving closer, you cupped his cheek. ‘Time and time again, you had overcome people’s discouragement on your passion, and you came up on top.’

‘So who am I to stop you from fulfilling your dreams? I can’t do that to you Freddie. I won’t be always to bear with the knowledge of holding you back. I can’t. I couldn’t Not to you. ’

‘So you sacrifice your own happiness for me to have mine?’

You shrugged.

‘Do you love him?’ Fred’s voice was strained.

You were caught off guard by his question. ‘Adrian?’

‘Yea.’

Gathering your thoughts together, you reasoned ‘I…..I…It’s only been a few week since we got engaged-‘

‘Do. You. Love. Him?’ Fred could feel his heart contracting. But he needed to know where he stood emotionally to you.

‘I like him.’ Blinking, you thought about your past couple of weeks with Adrian. ‘He’s sweet and nice. A really caring gentleman.’ You admitted. ‘Not exactly the typical evil Slytherin archetype either. So there’s that.’

‘That’s not exactly a high bar.’ Fred taunted causing you to chuckle.

‘But in time…given time. I don’t see why I won’t potentially fall for him.’ You replied truthfully.

You both just sat there, shoulder to shoulder on his office table. Hints laughter could be heard through the door. In contrast to this small room full of eery silence and tense with the gloom of a last goodbye.

‘Well..’ You stand, brushing your dress straight. ‘I guess that is all there is to say.’ You sent him a reassuring smile, eager to maintain this light ambiance between you. ‘I just dropped by for a quick visit you and to inform you of the upcoming wedding of the year. Thought that it be best to clear the air and be polite and give you a heads up personally rather than finding out about it in the daily prophet tomorrow.’

You wrap him into a hug, knowing that this would be the last time. ‘I’ll miss you.’

Fred held onto to you tighter, inhaling your scent. ‘I’ll miss you too.’ Compelling his brain to remember what you feel like, what you smell like. His The One That Got Away. Burying his face into your neck, he pleads. ‘Do this one thing for me please…. To make things easier.’

‘Anything’ you replied.

‘Tell me you don’t love me.’

You stiffen in his arms, pulling back a bit to see his face. ‘I can’t.’

You were about to walk away when once again he stops you.

The next thing you know, you were spun back into his arms, kissing with intense passion, pouring your hearts out, knowing that this is it. The final kiss. The final moment. This is where your stories diverge.

You broke apart, cherishing his face this close one last time.

‘Goodbye, Fred Weasley.’

With that you exit his office, leaving behind a perfectly happy life of what ifs and a heartbroken man surrounded by reminders of his achievements and happiness.

  Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​

[braindeacl]

So a Zombie and a Mara Walk Into a Bar | Eilidh & Marley

SETTING: The Perfect Pint. TIMING: Before Marley went into the portal. PARTIES: @detectivedreameater & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Marley and Eilidh discuss the strangeness of the town over a stiff drink.  WARNINGS: N/A

The Perfect Pint, a wonderful instance of wandering turned discovery. Eilidh found herself drawn to the place at infrequent times, a feeling of longing compelling her forward. It wasn’t the same as she remembered. It never would be again. But, confusingly, the compulsion still remained, despite the sting. On this instance, the place was sprinkled with what looked like a few frequent patrons, and a dash of new, but overall, the crowd was sparse. She looked up to the screens decorating the walls from every angle. Each displayed a different game, and none seemed to be live. Slow night. Perfect. While a pub of drunk, passionate men was fun and brought a sense of nostalgia that both filled and ate at her chest, it was a dreadful setting for storytelling. And even better, the low occupancy made her easy to spot. The lone woman at the bar. The woman’s attention turned elsewhere, the first thing Eilidh noticed were long locks of black hair. It reminded her of the sea during a storm. Then, the dark waves receded as she turned closer, revealing a face. Revealing sunglasses.

“Feasgar math!” She called over to Shane, the owner, who returned with a cheerful, “Dia duit! The usual?” With her nod, he began his work. Black pudding was pulled from the fridge and dropped into hot oil. As they cooked, he prepared a glass of whiskey. The empty barstool next to Marley became quite familiar with Eilidh, then. Her eyes briefly glanced at the edges of scars that peaked beyond the surface of the glasses. A flash of curiosity struck her eyes, but then calmed. “Marley Stryder? Pick your poison.”

Marley wasn’t sure going out for drinks was really the best idea, but she was back at work and she’d been feeling much better lately. She still didn’t understand what exactly had happened after her accident, but one day she’d just woken up feeling refreshed and fine. Well, mostly fine. Her ner normal fine, at least. She’d settled the sunglasses on her face, and thrown on her favorite leather jacket, before heading out to the bar they’d agreed to meet up at. The Perfect Pint. It was neither perfect, nor pint, but they served up a good one, and, really, that was all that mattered to Marley. She didn’t even mind getting to the bar early, taking a seat by herself and glancing around the joint to see if there was anyone there she recognized. Even in this small town, in this small bar, there wasn’t. Most of the other cops hung out at Al’s or Shannahan’s, close by bars in case they got a call. She was just getting ready to flag down a bartender to order a drink when a voice interrupted her and she looked up to meet tender, brown eyes and a smiling face. Something about them seemed...off, but Marley wasn’t about to delve into that. Not when she didn’t really care.

“You must be Macleod, then, “she said, turning to face her. She could see eyes tracing over her scars. “Whiskey works for me.” She looked over at the bartender and nodded. “Double. Neat.” Facing the other woman again, she watched curiously herself as she settled. “So, you come here often? I know that sounds like a cheesy opener, but, well--” she motioned to the bartender, working away at their drinks, “you seem pretty familiar.”

At the mention of her name, Eilidh nodded to confirm. Smile curled higher at the observation. “Only sometimes.” And it was true. She probably would be a regular if she could experience all of alcohol’s benefits. “Ol’ Shane took a shine to me ‘cause he knows if he’s mean I’ll tell everyone what he’s actually muttering about.” Shane yelled something across the bar in Irish Gaelic, causing Eilidh to chuckle. Done with her food, he placed it on a plate and slid it to her. Two glasses of whiskey were placed in front of them. Upholding the deal, she set a bundle of cash on the bar, which contained a generous tip. Probably another reason why they liked her. Securing her glass, she motioned it to Marley, then to the few behind the bar. “Sláinte.” Slightly tipped back, she took a sip, letting it swirl around in her mouth. Simply enjoying the texture and smallest hint of taste. The only things she could enjoy. Placing it back on the bar with a clink, she beheld her food. Blood pudding, with extra spices added. A lot of extra spices. Before taking a bite, she turned her attention back to Marley. “What about you?”

Marley was intrigued. She raised a brow, though it was hidden behind aviators that fit perfectly to her face, hiding the red glow behind them. “You speak Gaelic?” there weren’t many people that still did, though she supposed the language was more common here, considering the fae population. Was Macleod fae, perhaps? Marley’s thoughts went temporarily to Lydia and she felt her stomach churn. She shoved the thought down by lifting her whiskey glass and taking a hearty sip. “Not really. Not here, at least,” she said, “I got my favorites, not that I mind this one.” She observed the other woman’s food, not unaware of what black pudding was, curiouser with each passing moment. She didn’t often indulge in human foods, though she had been more lately, since she’d been living with Erin. “You been in town long?”

Eilidh nodded. “Aye, I do. Not the same as he does. But I know enough.” It was one of the few languages she was able to hold onto after… the incident. Which she refused to consciously make that connection. Instead, she took a testing bite of her food. The level of spices allowed enough of a tingling on her tongue to register as something good. It reminded her of the food she would prepare in times of old–when they actually took the time instead of eating the flesh raw. A habit which has still stuck with her. She took another bite, and before it was fully consumed, she continued. “Not too long. Lots of things are still a mystery to me.” Which was true, but she wouldn’t reveal the full extent to what she knows. The food was briefly ignored as her full attention rested on Marley. “Maybe you’ll shed a light? Rumor has it you’ve been here long enough for some interesting stories.” That spark of curiosity filled her eyes again as she playfully referenced their previous correspondence.

“Still something, right?” Marley said, raising her glass to take another sip. The alcohol burned but it felt good. Being here and in her mind felt good. She watched curiously as the other woman bit into her food. She could smell it, the spices, but she didn’t know what it was or what they were. Human food was...such a mystery to her still. The most adventurous thing she’d tried was peanut butter and pickles on a dare as a teenager. She could still remember the horrid taste decades later. “A fan favorite?” she asked, nodding at the plate, as she swirled her drink. Let out a chuckle. “I’ve been here long enough for plenty of those, yeah,” she answered, crossing her legs as she leaned back in her chair, facing Macleod fully. “What do you wanna hear about first? The case of all the missing heads or the flayed bodies? Or maybe something less exciting to start, like how Dark Score lake turned to glass. You hear about that one, yet?” Whatever story she wanted to hear, Marley was willing to share. She had an inkling Macleod had more to herself than she was letting on, but everything would come in due time. Until then, Marley wanted to enjoy the challenge, and the company, and the whiskey. 

“Oh, yes. They know how I like it.” With the main components of blood and fat, it was one of the few plates Eilidh bothered ordering. Others had too much filler—carbs on carbs with maybe a touch of foliage. But being completely carnivorous, those foods were pointless, sometimes downright sickening to her. She took another bite, letting it sit on her tongue, the spices penetrating and offering a hint of flavor. She eyed the matching space on the bar in front of Marley, noting it was sparse. “Just a liquid diet for you, then?” Upon Marley’s next words, those eyes snapped back to her face, flashing with that same intrigue as before. Missing heads. Flayed bodies. Such words could surely be applied to multiple cases, based on what she knows of this place. But the lake. She remembered that. When first encountered, she thought it was just ice. It had been winter, after all. But the more she had looked, the more the details weren’t right. Ice had imperfections—a sign that indicated it was there. But none could be found. Just a solid, almost invisible barrier. With malicious intent seeping into the air. “I saw it, actually. You ever figured out what caused it?” Her line of work would surely increase the chances of that locked wisdom. The real question is if she would share even a crumb with Eilidh. 

“Not much for bar food,” Marley answered, shaking her glass and making sure the bartender saw how nearly empty her glass was. He nodded and pulled out a glass for another one. “Besides, my--” she paused, feeling the word already trying to slip out as she swallowed the first half of it, “--friend is obsessed with making home cooked meals so she’s always bringing me leftovers and shit.” And neither statement was a lie, not technically. Marley didn’t like bar food, and Erin was often bringing her food even if she didn’t really eat it. She smiled, clicked her fingers against her glass, eyeing the difference between the ice inside and the smooth crystal exterior it sat in. She remembered looking at the lake and seeing the smooth surface of it, only to come back a bit later and see that it had shattered into millions of tiny pieces. Clean up was a bitch. They had to bring in outside volunteers from the forest service and even recruit town members who were eager to volunteer. Now it sat as an empty crater, with chunks of glass still reminding those who visited what had happened. “Would you believe me if I said it was magic?” More specifically, magic that had encapsulated Bloody Mary and the Sandman. Best to test the waters first.

Eilidh slipped over another bill across the bar. But her charity wouldn’t last forever—watching someone get drunk was only amusing when other matters weren’t at hand—and she made a mental note not to pay for the next. Unless Marley began to offer something juicy. “Ah. That’s sweet.” She detected the awkward pause in the statement. A secret not wanting to be revealed. Which was understandable, she was a stranger after all. Still, a part of her wanted to know, as she did with all things. But something much more intriguing presented itself. Despite their online discussion hinting to Marley’s knowledge of those things left unsaid, she hadn’t expected magic to come out of her lips. She seemed so pragmatic. And those like that were usually so tough to crack. But this town would make a believer out of anyone. Unless Marley had been connected to magic all along. “Yes.” She leaned in closer, eyes searching. A crumb finally offered, and she intended to bite off more. “What kind?” She had suspected, practically knew, such a source when first discovered, though she lacked the knowledge to decipher more. Magic kissed the world in many ways, but how certain people utilized and manipulated such energies was mostly lost to her. 

“Sweet, yeah,” Marley mumbled, tapping her fingers on the side of her glass. She noted the slight look of annoyance and wondered why it might’ve been so easy to feel that way after only buying a stranger their second drink. Marley could remember all the multitude of drinks she’d bought other women she wanted to take home from the bar, but, then again, it seemed like Eilidh’s reasoning was different from those. Eilidh’s admission to magic came as a slight surprise. Usually people tried to bargain it away, to explain that it probably wasn’t real, or magic was just something else, they didn’t understand, yadda yadda. Eilidh just said yes. Marley shuffled. “Real powerful kind,” she said, “I wasn’t there when it happened, but there’s no way it wasn’t. There were, uh-- some bigger issues in the town at the time. The glass lake supposedly subdued them. But all magic comes with a price, right?” She sipped her new drink. “Or so I’ve been told.”

Made sense. Despite her lack of knowledge, except for the practices she learned in her youth, Eilidh had felt power sizzling in the air. And when the next she visited what remained, as if the lake had been scooped up by a giant spoon, and then whacked, she knew something must’ve happened. Other mysteries had stolen her attention, as it often did in such a town, but she lapped up anything she could learn now, interest grown anew. “Bigger issues?” Bigger issues. Bigger issues. She thought back to that time, many months ago. Was there anything of note? She was fairly certain that had been around the same time that entity in the mirror yelled at her. Something, something, repent for your sins, something, something. And that might’ve been the month she saw a kelpie again for the first time in years. Both intriguing, and the later additionally exciting, but neither screamed bigger issue to her. “A price. Like how it’s a crater now?” Eyes still focused on Marley, eagerly hoping for more answers. Her fingertip pressed against the rim of her drink, tracing that thin path, counter-clockwise. When the circle was complete, she secured the full glass in her hand, and took another sip. 

Marley scratched at her cup, a long nail tapping against the glass. She’d wondered what the glass lake had sounded like, when tapped on. Did it make crackling noises as the ground beneath it shifted to support the weight of the new matter? Whatever had shattered it had been loud. So loud, some of the alarms in town had gone off. Windows had shattered. She only knew of a few species that could make noise like that. “Something like that,” she answered. Eilidh was growing more curious, the less and the more Marley gave her. Her answers were short but informative. She knew how to hook someone in. “I more think the crater was...simply an after effect of whatever happened there. It’s still quite a mystery. I don’t know of anyone who has the full story, start to finish. But I’ve been piecing things together myself. Who knows if I'm right. But,” she lowered her voice, as if this next part were a secret, “I think the lake was used to imprison something or someone.”

An entire lake as a prison. Creative. Though not creative enough, as evident by the resulting crater. Eilidh’s mind wondered as to who or what could’ve caused such a massive display of power. And what they did to warrant the need to place them there—if it were justified or caused by fear or both. The two thoughts congealing into an impressive figure. “Makes sense. Nothing likes to be kept in a cage.” She would know; more than most. Small wrinkles adorned her forehead as eyebrows pressed close, close like those walls had been for all those centuries. The expression lasted a moment before flattening. Wonderous twinkle in her eyes returned. “Guess whoever it was is out and about then? Wonder what they’re up to.” That air seemed angry that fateful day. An anger that wouldn’t simply go away overnight. “Or if they’re back.” 

Marley wondered if Macleod might be talking about herself. But, then again, Marley hated being caged, as a child. Strapped to a bed while she screamed and cried and begged for food. They hadn’t known, it wasn’t their fault, not really. She still blamed them. She flicked at the bartop. “Suppose not,” she agreed, watching her closely. The crowd, though small, seemed to be getting rowdier. Men were shouting at each other just down the bar and Marley’s eyes drew to them like magnets. No fear yet, but chaos. And chaos inspired fear. She ran her tongue over her lips before her attention drew back to her companion. “Could be,” she answered, blinking, drawing herself back to the current conversation. “Not really sure. Maybe they died being trapped in there. Or shattered with it.” She didn’t honestly care. As long as it wasn’t fucking with the town or Erin, she just didn’t care. “But really, that’s not even the strangest--” She had started to pull up the memory of another strange occurrence in White Cres, when someone was shoved against her and her chest thumped against the bar, her drink spilling. It was the two men who had been yelling at each other earlier, and now their anger was in Marley, too. She shoved back on him. “Hey!” she growled, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt. “Watch it.” The man tried to yank away, grinding his teeth at her. “Or what?” he chided.

Eilidh had been so enthralled at the story slowly being weaved, she hadn’t noticed the steady increase of the crowd. It might as well have just been her, Marley, and their dwindling whiskeys. She had half a mind to preemptively order Marley another, more gifts for her continued answers. But then a man brushed against her extended elbow, jolting her back into her surroundings. Eyes snapped in his direction, a mixture of startle and anger. When their eyes met, his own widened and the patron simply took a step back, the brief touch merely accidental. It calmed her nerves. A second was taken to regain her attention. It shifted back to Marley, electrifying at the hintings of another tale. But then another man interrupted. And this one was less forgiving. As Marley’s body thwapped against the table, a growl rattled in her throat. It only got louder when she made eye contact with the aggressor. “Piss off.” She splashed the remainder of her drink onto the man’s face. As alcohol entered his eyes, he let out a shriek. His friend immediately went into action, tight grip securing her braid. He gave it a hard tug, trying to pull her off the chair. So she sent her nails, her claws, digging into his hand. Her legs kicked widely, most landing on his calves and thigh. And then one finally met the target: his groin. Jackpot!

All it took was one man grabbing one woman-- her companion for the night, none the less-- and Marley was set off. She could punch him, easily. She wanted to punch him. Her fist flew out and connected with his jaw, just as Macleod’s foot came up into another man’s crotch. Marley snorted, but the few seconds were enough for the man who she’d punched to wind his own fist back and swing for her. Sunglasses cracked and flew from her face and she grit her teeth, whipping her head to look back at him. Red eyes glared him down until he suddenly wilted, screaming under her gaze. And, for good measure, she swung her foot up into his crotch as well and pushed him over with the heel of her boot. Wiping her hands on her jacket, she leaned down to pick up her bent glasses. “Don’t touch the glasses,” she snarled at him before depositing them back on her face. Frowned, because they were crooked. Frowned even more because now the rest of the bar was rowdy, too.

Eilidh was not expecting the sound of a secondary impact. Almost as if it was planned, the man suffered a double tap in one go. A laugh blurted out of her. But when the man returned the favor, striking Marley across the face, that laughter died and she was growling again. Her body wanted to jump into action and was cocked to do so. Red eyes froze her onto the barstool—sent a chill down her spine, sent dread into her mind. Whoa. Was she a Mare? The reaction of the man—who suffered under the full weight of that crimson gaze, who crumbled into himself as if it would get him further away, who screamed because that’s all he could really do—confirmed suspicions. Despite the eruption of unease at the sight, wonder still tingled in her eyes. She tore her eyes away, blinking as the forced fear subsided into her true emotions, and was instantly greeted by the first man, having regained himself. Who eyes too were red: from the burn of alcohol and of rage. Her teeth snapped shut with a harsh click. “My turn.” Launching herself onto the man, she used the momentum to send him tumbling onto the ground. Before he could compose himself, she struck him across the cheek. As she revved up another attack, a random patron knocked her down, disrupting the motion. Before becoming engulfed by that sea of passion and fury, she hopped back up onto the barstool. Left the man to fend for himself. “This place got lively!”

Marley stood by as Macleod threw herself at the other man, who was soaked from the drink that had previously been thrown on him. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She was too preoccupied with watching that she didn’t notice the others approaching them, or the bartender, rushing around the side of the counter, grabbing his baseball bat, and waving it at some of the other men who were rushing over to the commotion. She almost forgot, too, that she was a police officer. She wasn’t supposed to incite violence like this, rather she was the one called to stop it. Someone else bumped into her from behind and she swerved to glare at them, too, watching them shrink away, as red eyes pierced them ever from behind the glasses. She didn’t much care anymore. The bartender grabbed at her and then Macleod next as Marley laughed at her statement. “Sure did!” she was being shoved towards the door, but she didn’t much care. “Can’t say I’m complainin’!” 

Eilidh’s eyes locked onto the baseball bat and an amused breath escaped her. “So dramatic! Like this’s anything new.” The bartender paid her comment no mind, only focusing on what needed to be done. When their hands seized her arm, Eilidh snapped her teeth threateningly. Those canines that had met flesh time and time again bared themselves to naïve and apathetic eyes.  Ensnared arm jerked, straining against the hold, on the edge of freeing herself. But her eyes locked onto Shane, who simply shook his head in disapproval. Fucking hell. Those blood puddings were on the line. Her arm relaxed, but a tension still riddled her body. She allowed the bartender to drag her away, back to the door where this all began. The sound of laughter brought up her mood, and she joined in her own. Mirth and hostility danced in her voice. “Too bad we can’t finish the job!” And with that they were shoved out the door. 

[razorblade180]

Rosebud Prologue:The first move.

In times of despair and sorrow there are fundamentally two options. Wallow in it, or move forward despite through the pain. A wise person would recommend escaping one’s own personal suffering. A wiser man would ask the question nobody else does. When you move forward, what happens to things left behind? They don’t fade away, not always. Sometimes...they try to keep up.

It was just another day. Ruby was doing dishes while her fourteen year old daughter, Carmine, held her baby brother in her arms. The little monster was enjoying his bottle while his happy sister hummed Gold to him. Ruby couldn’t help but feel all warm inside. Carmine had been doing everything and more to help out. This past year could’ve been way harder without her, but now things had fallen into a decent routine. More importantly, Ruby could say goodbye to sweatpants again and hello to corsets! Her body was back in action like it was before pregnancy. Loving her children had no limits but it felt heavenly to not feel like a balloon again. Jaune never complained though. Most likely because it meant it was his turn to whip her into shape. The sneaky husband loved helping with her stretches.

Ruby put away the last dish and dried her hands. “Wanna switch off?” She asked, clearly seeing Carmine enjoy her current duty. The girl shook her head no. “I’m fine feeding Garnet. Just another role as big sis!” Her smile practically reached her eyes. Ruby noticed Carmine had her red contacts in. “Going somewhere soon?

“Yep. When dad gets back with groceries I’m gonna head out to do a bit of patrolling. Thought I’d stop by Sun’s place and see if Aero wanted to join. He gets snippy if I don’t at least try and convince him to join.” Ruby laughed, that was pretty on brand for the boy. “Just don’t go around town starting trouble. I’m tired of the cops telling me you’re playing vigilante.” Carmine couldn’t help scoff at such exaggerated claims. “How’s it my fault I happened to encounter a gang leader in his hidden base of operations? It was poorly hidden. Besides, the cops haven’t called in weeks.”

Ruby’s scroll immediately starts ringing with the Vacou police department ID on it. She turns to Carmine and sighs. “Listen, I was wild like this too, but not this wild.” Carmine raised an eyebrow. “But...I haven’t done anything. In a while, or that they can prove…” she hoped. Ruby only shook her head tiredly and answered. “What or who did Carmine break?” The officer laughed lightly before it faded off. “No no, this isn’t about Carmine. One of the stations a couple of miles out of the kingdom to the neighboring towns called our department. If I’m correct, you were very close with Maria Calavera, yes?” Ruby moved away from her kids and spoke lower. Maria had passed away several years ago. It was the first time Carmine looked so hurt. “Yes, is everything okay? Did something happen to her house,”

“Her home is fine, but not her tombstone. Apparently some punk kid decided to defile it. The cops are wondering if you can drop by and scare the punk into proper shape. You know how people get when they meet you. Also you take care and technically on it, so pressing charges have to come from you.” Ruby was still processing someone disrespecting a grave. To what gain? Maria had no more enemies. Not to mention that her grave wasn’t in a cemetery. It was moved to a hill near the outskirts. “Yeah I’ll show up. I can’t promise I won’t scare the kid to death though. I can’t believe a person did such a thing. This world I’ll tell ya; give me a few minutes to head out. Have them with me so they can admire their work before I make them clean it all up.” Ruby hung up and let out a sigh. There was always something.

“Everything okay?” Carmine asked. She walked towards her mother and held Garnet's adorably chubby face in front of Ruby’s face. It was impossible not to smile at it. “Hehe, I’m fine. Looks like a certain baby is fine too. I might have to put this boy on a diet!” She poked his tummy and patted Carmine’s head. “I gotta go to your abuela’s gravesite. Somebody was messing with it and I gotta give them a stern talking to.” Carmine looked as stunned as Ruby did, then her face scowled. Ruby had seen that before. “Nah ah, you can not come and beat them up.”

Carmine poked her lips out. “You’re no fun. I guess I’ll keep the house safe with Garnet then.” As if she had a choice. Who else was gonna do it!? She stopped pouting when Ruby kissed her forehead. Carmine wanted to rub it off but her hands were full. “Mom!” Ruby stuck her tongue out childishly as she walked away. “Lock the door! You dad will be home soon.” The front door was closed and the house became a little more quiet. “Well it’s just you and I now.” Garnet blinked his eye at her curiously before spitting up a little on himself. Carmine closes her eyes to collect herself. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

xxxx

The trip to Esperanza from the outskirts of Vacou was only a couple miles; not a real problem for someone who walked all the way to Haven. Ruby reached Maria’s small and festive hometown in about half an hour. It was still rather early for everyone to be out and about but noise and smells of food sizzling filled the air all the same. Ruby always liked this place. She spotted the tree that stood proudly on the hill on the other side of the town. Even from here she could see some limbs had been broken off and some kind of fabric flowing off of it. “Why would-ugh, teenagers.” Ruby groaned. Under the tree she could see a cop and another individual draped in a black hood. Now she was even more confused. An over eager fan or hater maybe? Many people around here loved Maria and her legendary status. Ruby wasted no time racing up to the vandalism, catching the raven haired officer off guard. Her emerald eyes bugged out at the sudden appearance.

“Gah! Wow, you’re faster up close. You should come with a bell.” Ruby chuckled at the statement. “I bet the grimm would love that idea.” A closer look at the tree revealed more damaged limbs and roughed up ground. Ruby turned to the cloaked figure who avoided her gaze. They were taller than Ruby expected but that’s all she could decipher. “Care to explain why you felt so compelled to ruin a memorial? Disrespecting the dead is pretty low.” She said firmly, crossing her arms for more affect.

The person hid further in their hood. Ruby waited for any possible response but there was only silence. They looked at the ground and dug their right foot into the dirt. The cop touched Ruby soldier. “He’s been pretty silent since I caught him red handed. There’s a mark on the back of the tree they spray painted. I can’t make sense of it but I was hoping you might be able to. For all I know, no gangs use that tag.” Ruby pointed star the culprit. “Don’t you dare try to run. We’re not finished young man.” He nodded. Ruby backed away slowly. There were always a few that tried running. It was as if they forgot what her semblance was.

A few steps from her and the cop told her that the dude was just gonna stay there. She finally turned around to examine the tree. “You said the back right? Gangs spray paint all the time so I might not know what….” her voice drifted into silence as she reached the other side of the trees. She had to take a few steps back to make sure she was seeing things okay. “This-This is…” words still eluded her as Ruby stared at black spray paint that perfectly made the image of a queen chess piece. Ruby could feel her face lose its color. “Cinder…” it was as if her name was a trigger for disaster. The tree suddenly was cut into by a blade that pierced the other side. Ruby was barely able to dodge the surprise attack, getting a clear view of the weapon. It was a scythe. Their culprit was holding a standard scythe that counted swinging at her. A small smirk was visible on the young man’s face as he came at her in full force.

The scythe constantly spun in his hand as he tried to swipe Ruby.The woman was done being surprised however. Ruby easily ducked and whipped out Cresent Rose. “Wanna play huh? Fine.” She hissed. Fighting first and asking questions later was something Ruby could get behind. She gripped the pole of her weapon tight and swung horizontally. The force alone caused enough pressure to push her opponent back while the blade barely scratched his torso. He had good reflexes. Ruby blitzed behind him and slashed him back before disappearing and reappearing in front of him. Ruby spun the bottom of her scythe and clipped his chin, then took a shot to thrust it forward. The sharp metal end would’ve connected to his face if an unexpected bullet didn’t hit Ruby in her arm. She turns her head to see the cop’s gun trained on her with deadly accuracy.

“What the hell are you-huh?” The emerald eyes of the cop turned pink and brown along with her hair. A familiar mischievous laughter comes from the old adversary as she twirls the gun and watches Ruby avoid the opponent in front of her. “Hey Rubes! You’re looking good; filled out quite a bit. I know your husband must like that.” She fired a few more bullets at Ruby’s feet to keep her moving as the red reaper was easily out classing the man in black, but he was nothing but persistent. He forced Ruby to jump by sweeping her feet and shoulder bashed her to the ground. Expert or not, Ruby was only so big. She quickly recovered by tumbling backwards and dashed towards Neo. For the first time in a long time, an ache more deadly than any blade pierced Ruby’s heart. Ruby couldn’t help but be bombarded with the memories of seventeen years ago.

“WHERE IS SHE!?” Ruby screamed at the smirking woman. That smirk pissed her off to no end. Not again, they’re not taking anything again. She swung Crescent Rose downward at Neo’s face, but quickly spun it sideways to shoot herself towards the right. The cloaked figure sprinted in front of her and blocked a horizontal slash that looked like it would’ve hit air, but wouldn’t. The Neo behind her shattered and the real one poked her head out from behind the man, happily surprised. “Damn, nothing gets past you anymore huh? Saw right through me.” Neo tried getting off another shot. “Still fast?” One bullet fired at close range only hit a rose petal. Instincts told Neo to push her partner out the way and duck. It was the right call. The edge of a scythe blade had been dropped and yanked backwards where Neo’s neck was. “I’m faster…”

Neo’s partner swung the end of the shaft to Neo to grab a hold of then Yanked her to safety behind him. “Phew, thanks darling. Told you she was the real deal.” Neo finally stopped smiling and glared at Ruby. “That’s What makes this next part so satisfying.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a detonator. Ruby’s body tensed up and her assault was halted. Neo’s thumb rubbed the top of the bottom rhythmically. “Guess where the bomb is?”

Ruby didn’t even flinch. “Leave the townspeople out of this or I swear-”

“Times up!” Neo hit the button and Ruby gasped. She went to dash at Neo but was hit in the side with a scythe from behind. The image in front of her shattered as she stumbled into it. An anger growl left her throat as Neo laughed. “Hahaha, kidding! This trigger does nothing.” She tossed it to the ground. “Still gullible after all these years. How are you not dead? Oh wait, others die for you.”

“Little…” Ruby grit her teeth and fired round after round at Neo. The cloaked man spun his scythe to deflect each one. He jumped forward with a downward slash but missed. Ruby spun in a tight vortex of petals that kept his feet fry the ground. She hooked his scythe with hers and yanked it out of his hands then hurled it Neo; not a shred of concern was seen as Neo leaned to the side and caught it. She turned to wink but saw Ruby behind her partner with the man on one knee and gripping the pole off Crescent Rose in an attempt to remove it from his neck before Ruby could choke him out. Neo pointed her pistol again but didn’t pull the trigger. With most of Ruby’s body behind his, it wouldn’t be a good idea to test her aim.

“Heroes take hostages now? That’s so cold”

“You would know.” Ruby pulled harder. “Must mean a lot to you if you’re not shooting. Where’s Cinder?”

“What? Am I not enough for you? Is my vengeance second rate? I thought you’d like me more after all we’ve been through.” Neo pouted.

“LAST CHANCE! OR-” Neo dropped the gun and yawned. “Or what? You’ll strangle him? That would be a terrible way to end a reunion, right Dustin?”

Just like that, Ruby felt her body go numb. “D-Dustin?” She muttered. Her grip accidentally loosened and the man ducked under the metal bar against his neck and rolled away in less than a second. The ground beneath Ruby trembled. Vines armed with thrones shot from the dirt and wrapped around her legs, waist, arms, and neck like barbed wire that pulled her down to her knees. The pain drained and felt a numbing, but Ruby could only stare at the black roses that bloomed on them slowly as the man walked towards Neo and grabbed his scythe. He looked back at Ruby who stared in disbelief, tears flooding her eyes. “D-Dustin…?” She repeated, her voice cracking. Ruby watched the man pull the hood off. Suddenly the world didn’t seem real. Her body felt ice cold with only the warmth of her tears on her face that came from silver eyes that became dim and cloudy; a perfect reflection of the ones in front her. Including the red and black hair. The difference being it was on a face that reflected not just her, but the man she married. It was only once, but Ruby never forgot that face. The face of the boy that made her a mother. The face she mourned for more times then she dared remember.

He finally spoke, “Hey mom. Glad you can make it.” The weight of cold and dense bone gripped Ruby’s shoulder. There wasn’t a nerve in her body that didn’t feel like fire and a heartbeat that didn’t sound like a boombox in her eardrums. If she was trembling before then she was now. Ruby didn’t even bother looking up. The shadow on the ground was enough. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s been quite some time since I met your mother in person. Isn’t that right?” The hand grabbed Ruby’s chin and turned it up to the right. Now Ruby had no choice but to look.

Cinder stood there looking down. Her previous outfit was ditched for dark purple leather pants and a black shirt that faintly glowed a deep fiery red like her heels. Not only was her arm different, looking fully formed and in case the bone armor grimm is known for, her eyes weren’t the same. One remained the same as before. The one that was never harmed. It was the injured one that made Ruby’s mouth run dry. The eye, it was silver as well. “Why don’t we catch up a bit? Normally I’m on a time crunch but since everyone is held up….” She turned Ruby’s head to the left and let her see what she had been missing out on. The wind around Vacou had picked up and turned a dust storm. In it, Ruby saw thousands of red eyes and the sign of fire. Alarm sirens blared seconds later.

“My gods…” Ruby gasped.

“Got to love subterranean grimm. Just have them move slow enough and a little magic to tip the weather in your advantage, then boom. Ambushed without a warning.” Cinder finally let her go sauntered over to Neo and Dustin. “Unfortunately it’s more smoke and mirrors than an actual bang. Tragedies on the scale of Beacon’s are hard to replicate. All you kids have grown up now and everywhere. It’s a pain in the ass. This event was just made to keep us uninterrupted.” Ruby tried struggling through the vines but could barely move. Every shift made her wince as they tightened. Not only that, but she actually felt weaker. They were doing more than restraining her. Cinder found amusement in the struggle. “Your son’s semblance is pretty annoying, isn’t it? Best not to move. Dustin, don’t over do it. I still want my fun.”

The pain eased and her strength was less inhibited. Ruby still couldn’t believe what was happening. She stared at her child who stared back, despondent. “Dustin, it’s me. I’m-”

He silenced her by tightening the single vine on her neck quickly. “I know exactly who you are.” Anger and vigor flooded his eyes in a glare that could only be seen as murderous. “And I have nothing to say to you.” Cinder rubbed his back. “Don’t mind him. You know how teens are, all rebellious and angry.” This situation was going so well she couldn’t help but laugh. “That being said, he’s grown into such a fine young man under my-”

“Ahem!” Neo said loudly. Cinder rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Under our guidance. He’s been quite helpful. Killing silver eyed people and learning their abilities has been far easier when he started helping out. It’s a shame, getting old that is. I used to go collecting by myself. Now he brings back the prizes for me sometimes.” Cinder rubbed the side of her face and saw Ruby shiver in shock. Their attention to each other was disrupted by a flashing light from Ruby’s pocket. The girl tried struggling again as Cinder reached for it and pulled out a scroll. Today got even surprisingly better all thanks to a home screen. “Oh well you look at that? Carmine was a person we expected to hear at least once, but I had no idea about the third one. What a handsome boy.”

Dustin’s body tensed tightly. “What…?” He muttered. Cinder tossed him the phone and sure enough, there the baby was with the rest of the family. Brand new silver eyes and all. The photo was blurred as Carmine’s name came up as the scroll rang. There was no hesitation in answering.

“Mom! Vacou’s being attacked and dad still isn’t back. Garnet is fine and no grimm are heading this way yet but-”

“CARMINE! TAKE YOUR BROTHER AND RUN!” Ruby screamed as loud as possible. Dustin hung up and looked at Cinder and she nodded. “Time for a family reunion.” She snapped her fingers and a nevermore descended from the sky for Dustin to jump on and head towards his brother and sister. Even with him gone, his vines still had a grasp on Ruby. It was weaker but the numbing pain still ran through her as she finally forced her way out of the ones around her arms and neck; air and sensation tried to fill her being again as she fell on her hands and knees. “My son, what did you do to him?” She raises her head with tears running down her face. Moving now would be stupid. Ruby had no choice but to recover.

“Me? You make it sound like I brainwashed him or abused him. No, no such thing.Granted it wasn’t my idea to keep him. The boy would’ve been dumped in a grimm pool or something if I had my way, then Neo had to step in and proposed a better idea.”

“Disguising as your nurse was far too much work to just have it end with a dead newborn. Besides, even I have my limits unlike some people” she glares the hell out of Cinder. “I can play the long game. A missing son returning to his family to erase it? That’s way more interesting don’t you think?”

Cinder circled around Ruby, watching the girl carefully as she indulged herself with explaining how a day like this could happen.“You asked me what I did to him. I did the only thing that made sense. I told the truth.” Ruby’s face softened. Her eyes scanned the ground as she tried to understand. The truth? Cinder groaned, “Boring I know, but a lie this big would be impossible. Ruby Rose, a name known by every last goddamn soul on Remnant. Between that and Dustin’s features, he’d figure out that he wasn’t ours sooner or later, so I told him exactly who he was. A child stolen by a hero's worst enemy. You should’ve seen the way he wept for you. I told him all I could. How incredible your reputation was to the masses and how you would be remembered throughout history for all time along with your friends. Surely a hero that elite would rescue their son, right?” She smirked, Cinder could see Ruby get pale from the implications.

“He...was waiting for me.” Ruby’s voice crackled and shook. A stark contrast from the laughter Cinder had. “Hahaha, oh he did more than wait! Time after time, your son tried escaping. Each attempt meant him killing grimm that I didn’t even have to influence, and each time it was up to either me or Neo to save his life. His will was quite astonishing, his mind sharp. He tried for years until one day...he actually escaped.”

“What?” Ruby wasn’t expecting Cinder to say that. “He escaped?” Cinder pulled out a scroll and nodded, “He was young too. Barely twelve if I remember. At this point I was at my wits end. I thought my choices were to cut my losses or kill him out of spite; Never did I expect him to come back with a look in his eyes I’ve never seen. The anger for his situation had changed. All because of one simple little thing.” The scroll was flipped around for Ruby to see. “Remember this day?”

Of all the things that Ruby expected, a picture of her from an old news photo wasn’t one of them. It was her holding Carmen up proudly after the girl’s first tournament. Her daughter had entered a jr competition at eight and took first place. Cinder put the scroll away. “Apparently he made it all the way to that event. Imagine the look on his face, seeing you smiling so purely with the sister he had no clue about? All that faith he put into you...and it meant nothing. Congratulations, how’s it feel to move forward? It brought him closer to me. My sweet Dustin.” Cinder and Neo fawned dramatically. Their laughter grew as Ruby’s anger rose. Her blood started to feel like it’s boiling and vision started to blur. Her eyes started glowing before flickering in and out constantly as she tried her damnedest to eradicate Cinder to no avail. A pounding in her head started forming that made her grip it. Cinder bent down and tugged hard on Ruby’s hair to stare right into her face with complete disdain. “That’s right Ruby, hate me. Hate me as much as I hate you. This isn’t about justice or preservation. Your anger vs ours. Let’s see who edges out.” Cinder backs away and blasts a wave of ice that only freezes then shatters only the vines. Crescent Rose is stabbed into the ground next to Ruby. This day was unavoidable. These feelings had been building a festering for years. Not just because of Dustin. Beacon, Pyrrha, the friends she’s hurt; the despair Cinder brought into Ruby’s life was too much and too often. Ruby had enough. She pulled herself up off the ground with her scythe. Eyes devoid of light beamed into the two pairs of glimmering evil as the clouds darkened the sky. Ruby could only think of one thing.The only thing that Cinder had thought about for ages.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

xxxx

The sounds of thunder and gun fire raged through and electrified the air as Dustin rode the nevermore. He looked back to see a concentration of wind and varying elements coming from where he left. “Looks like they’ve gotten serious. Time for me to get my party started.” He would be over Ruby’s house in a matter of minutes. Karma was finally gonna come knocking on her door. “A shame she won’t see this. Alright, time to see what my little sister I made-” a sudden pressure and force came upwards that hit like a canon. Next thing Dustin knew, the nevermore no longer had a head and was swan dive to the ground. He quickly jumped from the bird and rolled onto the sand to break his fall. Carmine watched the whole thing while cleaning grimm blood of her blade several feet away.

“I’ve never heard mom sound so panicked before. Grimm herds aren’t anything we haven’t handled before so I knew there was more to the situation; but what exactly is the more?” Carmine couldn’t make out his face from distance but the scythe on the sand and cloak were more than enough to be off putting. She stepped closer cautiously. The color of his hair and eyes immediately made her stop and jump back, placing her sword in front of her body as he stood. “Stop! Who are you?” He patted himself off and looked at his sister. Admittedly, he was caught off guard. This was already more interesting than he anticipated.

“What on Remnant possessed you to take out a grimm mid-flight? I doubt you noticed me.”

“A lone grimm going after a house outside of the kingdom when its friends are having a blast inside is pretty freaking suspicious. Now answer my question!” Her body tensed. Carmine didn’t know why but she felt as if his gaze alone might swallow her up like a pit of tar. There was no mistaking that color. His eyes looked fogged and hazy but they were definitely silver. Then there was his face. Carmine never imagined Garnet would look like grown up but this man’s face would’ve been pretty close.

“Huh, figures they never mentioned me. It was probably too shameful and humiliating to reveal such a major example of arrogance.” His words felt like venom and on the verge of being unhinged, yet maintaining a low tone of composure as he grabbed his weapon. “I think you already have a good guess on who I am, or do you need a closer look?”

Carmine saw the man vanish in the blink of an eye. She quickly rose her sword in front of her in a block that covered her entire body. A clash of metal crashed right into it and rattled her arms from the force. Now they were face to face with a similar look of intensity. “I….I don’t understand what’s going on!” Saying that this was unnerving was an understatement. Carmine has a job to do though. The longer he was with her, the further her clone was with Garnet. The only regret was splitting her sure evenly. Fighting an unknown opponent could go wrong.

“It’s simple really. You’re not the first born child of Jaune Arc and Ruby Rose. That kid got snatched by a witch.”

Carmine’s world felt like it stopped. “Cinder Fall.”

“Bingo.” A vine shot from the ground and wrapped around Carmine before flinging her. Dustin followed up with a leaping downward strike but Carmine corrected herself mid-air yo block it. “Heh, look at you…” his hand slid to the bottom of his scythe and started swiping side to side against Carmine’s defenses. Each contact made sparks fly and her arms ache from the weight of the attack. She couldn’t take it anymore and ducked under the next attack to get in close. Both opponents were no stranger to the limitations of a scythe or had to overcome them. Carmine knew he was likely to pull the entire thing back by bringing his hand to the top of the shaft, so she jumped straight up and grabbed her curved blade, Stamen, from both ends and swung it down to have it drop like a guillotine. The impact left a small crater where Dustin stood before he jumped out of the way. She had no expectations of hitting him but she needed breathing room. It was her turn on offense.

Carmine shot off three aura slashes before pursuing him. She watched closely as his scythe spun to block the attack and leaped over him to get a hit in from behind. More vines shot up and stabbed her hand before connecting. A low hiss came from her. This was obviously his semblance but knowing it’s function was hard to tell. More shot up around her in a circle. A simple spin cut them down to size easily and she unleashed a flurry of rapid attacks that clanged and bashed against his scythe when she wasn’t missing him entirely.

“Geez, maybe I overestimated. All the talk about my little sister and this is it?”

“Big talk from someone fighting a kid, and we’re not family!” Carmine swung at his left torso but was stopped dead in her tracks when he grabbed the blade with his hand. A jab to the throat made Carmine choke on her own breath as Dustin twisted her arm behind her then put her in a choke hold. Her feet barely scraped the sand as she desperately tried to breathe. Carmine could feel his breath on her ear as he whispered angrily through his teeth.

“Don’t act stupid and face the facts. It’s the least a sorry excuse for a replacement; don’t even have silver eyes like our brother.” He squeezed her wrist so tight she could feel it start to give. Stamen was dropped as she tried not to scream. “As for the age difference, three years ago I was already filling graves. What do you do? Rule over the talentless? Tournaments are useless. Just like you.”

Carmine squirmed and bit her lip till she bled. Screw the pain and his words. Weak was the last thing she was, and she was gonna prove it. “LET. ME. GOOOO!” Carmine felt a pop in her wrist as she jerked forward, hard. Her feet stomped the ground and two rose clones appeared on each side, the first grabbed her sword and drove it against Dustin’s ribs. The blow broke his hold on the original by pushing him back. The second clone grabbed his legs so he would fall backwards. It worked. Dustin’s head hit the ground and he stared up to the sky as the first clone did the guillotine drop the original did earlier. “Take this!!!!” It screamed.

Dustin hit his fist against the ground. Vines shot pierced right through the clone then swooped low to stab the other. With the last of its strength, the first clone tossed the sword to the original as she watched her clones go limp; their bodies faded as black roses bloomed the vines. Maybe it was their manner of defeat, but Carmine started to sweat. She hadn’t even realized she picked up her blade and was backing away from the man surrounded by a garden of death. A gut feeling told her that being trapped in those spelled the end.

Her semblance was info Dustin knew nothing about. To see it was genuinely surprising, but nothing he had to fear. Not with Carmine looking like a deer in headlights. “Do you know what black roses symbolize?” Carmine didn’t answer. Instead she pulled out the second part of her weapon, Pistil, and combined it with Stamen. The blade curved downward while the collapsible tactical baton connected to the hilt to make her scythe. Dustin felt a surge of excitement run through him. Another surprise from his sister. “HAHAHAHA! Oh please don’t tell me you’re about to challenge me with that?” He laughed hysterically, his calm demeanor completely shifting to nothing short of rage. He stabbed his scythe in the ground. “Rotten Rose will ruin you.”

“Rosebud hasn’t failed me yet.” Carmine got low and held on with both hands. Her right wrist aches but adrenaline and necessity demanded its use. Carmine needed all the reach she could muster. Dustin was done talking and put up his hood. Alarms, screams, explosions, even the wind blowing felt muted to Carmine. The only thing that mattered was the reaper in front of her. She was going to get through this and reject those black roses. Today wasn’t death day. Not for her. The vines shot straight at her. Carmine shredded through them like a blender by twirling Rosebud. Two more vines from each side forced her to jump straight up. She pulled a trigger on the shaft of the used to be tactical baton. A slug round recoil sent her back to the ground where a massive sweeping attack severed the vines. It wasn’t enough.

Her brief rest was interrupted by more sprouting from the ground around her. Another gunshot sent her out of the center before they all stabbed her from every side. More and more dove in and out of the ground like serpents chasing prey. Dustin stood motionless as his sister fired herself in any direction she could to avoid a strike. Occasionally she was forced to stand her ground to cut several before dodging again. She tried to hide it, but Dustin could see the fear in her eyes. He was gonna force it out of her. A wall of thorny vines walled off Carmine from back stepping again. Dozens of vines came from everywhere in the front. The fear he wanted didn’t come. Carmine grit her teeth and started slashing through them head on.

Chunks of plants flew everywhere as Carmine hacked angrily through them. “Haaaaaa!” The girl could only scream through the pain as thorns scraped her skin like a million stabs. “Just...a little...more!!!!” She refused to stop until a swing cut through to the other side. The sight of Dustin’s shocked face spurred her on. Another gunshot was sending her straight at him with Rosebud’s blade eagerly awaiting to connect with his throat. “You’re done!!!!” All her force went into swinging the blade; too much strength in fact. Dustin simply leaned back Carmine completely whiffed. Her momentum kept her body rotating. In the moment her body had turned away from him, her eyes could only see the blood stained thorns she borrowed through. Carmine’s anger subsided and was reminded of the most basic rule of fighting. Keep track of your aura. Her mistake for forgetting was an instant and excruciating pain that crossed her from each shoulder down to the opposite hip. It all had happened so fast yet time felt slow as the ground seemed to rise to meet her.

Carmine laid face down on the ground. Her back started to feel wet. Like if someone was pouring something warm on it, something thick. Tears filled her eyes seconds later when the shock of it all was met by the stinging of sand and reality.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH~”

Carmine couldn’t stop screaming in agony. Her arms did her best to lift her but her right wrist gave out. Everything was giving out. There wasn’t a muscle that wasn’t shaking in her body. There wasn’t a thought of anything anymore with the sound of creeping plants and footsteps approaching while a shadow loomed over her. The silhouette of her blood dripping off the scythe that was ready to draw more. The shaft of it flipped her battered body over for her to stare into the eyes that should’ve been preserving life; but all she saw was them asking for hers. Was this despair? Carmine never felt anything like it before. For the first time in her life she felt powerless, weak. Her tears ran down her bloody and soiled face. “Pl-Please…” she said, quivering. “ I don’t wanna die…” she shut her eyes and lost all sense of self. “I DON’T WANNA DIE!!!”

“CARMINE!!!” Multiple people cried out from a distance. Dustin turned his dead and was immediately blasted by a laser gun in the face that knocked him away. The current of electricity stunned him momentarily as he saw three more people. Two of them he had heard and learned about. The leader of team SSSN and his partner. The third was an unknown boy with bird wings that picked up Carmine while the other two stood in front of them. “Sun and Neptune. What are the odds the partners of a disbanded team are hanging out today of all days? One of you doesn’t even live on this continent.” He glared at Neptune.

The duo immediately recognized the man in front of them and gasped. No way they wouldn’t. Neptune gasped, “Is that…?”

“No way…” Sun said. He looked back at an injured Carmine then to Dustin. No doubt about it. He clapped his hands together and summoned clones. Now wasn’t the time to let his guard down. “I don’t know how you’re here but I’m not letting you go. Aero, get Carmine far away from here.”

“Not on my watch!” Dustin dashed forward immediately. Neither the clones or pro huntsman were quick enough to stop him blitzing the both of them. He reached to grab the boy holding his sister, then poof, nothing. It was like magic. Dustin blinked and they were gone. They went from right in front of him to already being in the sky, several minutes away. Whatever happened wasn’t speed. He didn’t know what that was, but it was definitely the boy’s doing. He looked back at Sun and Neptune who were charging at him in full force. Dustin clicked his teeth and sighed. Play time was over. “Two pro huntsmen like yourselves is way more than I bargained for. Especially after my other reunion, sorry.” A faint light in the distance caught his eye while planning his exit. Whatever it was had speed and was heading towards the storm over Cinder’s battle. “If I was a betting man…” Dustin used his vines to left himself into the air and grab a passing nevermore to ride, leaving Sun and Neptune in the dust.

“Damnit!” Sun yelled.

“Never mind him, let’s get back to town and help.” Neptune said, seeing the light. “Jaune’s gonna be pissed.”

xxxx

Aero was flying as fast as he could to the medical station set up. Finding Jaune or his friend would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. What he wouldn’t give to have a healing semblance right now. The blood that came from Carmine and dripped down his arms as she wept in pain was burning a memory into him he didn’t want to ever see again.

“Hang in there Carmine! You’re gonna be just fine. Your clone found my mom so don’t worry about Garnet. He’s perfectly fine.” He told her to ease whatever pain and stress he could. The way she clung close to him wasn’t inspiring any change. Carmine kept weeping and shaking.

“Hurts…” she winced. “It hurts so much.” Aero felt a lump in his throat. The boy kept flying with all his might. The tears of the strongest person he knew weighed heavily on his heart the entire flight.”

xxxx

That fight against Reaper and Maiden wasn’t fairing too much better. Neo could attest to that as she laid on the ground, aura flickering and writhing in pain. The normally dry, dusty air was soaked with pouring rain thanks to Cinder. Neo picked herself up painfully slow and could barely keep track of the hundreds of petals and embers that danced in the air over panicking villagers. Who would’ve thought Little Red would’ve grown into such a warrior? To Neo, both Cinder and Ruby might as well be freaks. She watched Crescent Rose carv through ice thicker than a goliath’s flesh and slam into Cinder. The woman went right through the already destroyed memorial tree before recovering with a tiny cyclone of lightning and fire that enveloped Ruby. That too was immediately reduced to nothing. Fortunately, Ruby looked tired. Her own aura and breath looked to be draining.

“Looks like this might be it.” Neo aimed her pistol. “Sorry Cinder, I get the kill-” the blur of bright light raced into view and then before Neo. Her eyes were witnesses to the shining white aura of a furious knight with a sword poised to strike her neck. Any time to move was erased to her as the blade was swung. The force would’ve been enough to take her head. The only thing stopping that was Dustin’s scythe between them that went unnoticed until now. Dustin’s arms went numb but his face remained stern as he stared at his father inches away who was lost for words.

“D-Dustin?” He uttered in disbelief. The hesitation left Jaune open for Dustin’s vines to grab him and throw him towards Ruby. The battling women had finally realized company had arrived

Dustin helped lift Neo to her feet. “You alright?” A pinch on the cheek and a nod told him that was a yes. Cinder landed near them while still facing Ruby and now Jaune.

“Why are you back?” She growled.

“Things got complicated, more huntsman. Time to go. We didn’t come here from a swan song.”

“Like hell! I’m just getting started.” Cinder made a bow and arrow out of lightning and took aim. “Ruby dies today.”

Not if Ruby had anything to say about it. She was ready for another exchange of blows but her anger was quelled when the sight of fresh blood was washing off of Dustin’s scythe. “Dustin, what did you do?Where’s Carmine and Garnet!?” Jaune was still shaken by who he was seeing. How was this possible? The sight of Cinder and Neo enraged him but the words Ruby said were brought to the forefront of his mind. “Carmine? Sun and Neptune should’ve-”

“I never saw Garnet.” Dustin interrupted. “As for Carmine...I’m sure she’s in shock by now. Fortunately for her my full swing wasn’t possible with how close she was. All blood, no lasting damage. Well...that’s not true. Trauma is tricky like that.” He smirked at his parent’s mortified faces. Dustin touched Cinder’s back. “Let’s go! We’ll kill them later. That wasn’t the point of this anyways.”

Ruby and Jaune tried their best to ready themselves as their son stepped forward and pointed at them. “Mark today. The peace you’ve cultivated in my absence will fall as easily as your daughter did, by my- our hands.”he declared. Ruby wasn’t even sure who she was looking at. The face she remembered was not covered in a hate and tragedy that mirrored the two by his side. Her heart couldn’t take it, it wouldn’t. Ruby was about to try and grab him when a shriek filled the air. The villagers down below were being trapped and attacked by vines. Ruby looked at Dustin. “Stop this!”

“You can either stop it yourself, or chase us. Choose fast. It’s not healthy to be wrapped too long.” The nevemore more extended its wing for them to walk on. He watched Ruby take another step before tightening his grip on screaming children. Ruby and Jaune looked in conflicting frustration before Jaune went to help them. “Ruby! I can’t do it all alone!”

Once again Ruby was asked to make the choice to chase her child or do her job. Grief filled her as she looked at him then stared at Cinder in seething hate. “Your head will roll if it’s the last thing I do.” Ruby threatened, joining Jaune to save the people. The nevermore took off and Cinder angrily aimed her bow before Neo blocked her sight with her umbrella.

“Don’t. Let’s not give them more reasons to hunt us now. It’s like Dustin said. This was just our first move. Break their world, then their lives. We waited this long. Just look at our handy work.”

Cinder watched the chaos of a small town and kingdom struggle with her grimm. To say it didn’t make her smile would be a lie. Yeah, she needed more of this. “It’s no Beacon, but it’s a damn good place to start.” Cinder looked at Dustin with more pride than she knew how to deal with. “Oh how I have high hopes for you. Do keep making your mothers proud. Dustin bowed respectively and watched the ruin along with her.

Finally a new game had started and the first move was theirs. Dustin couldn’t wait for his next one. “Here’s to a speedy recovery Carmine… Your big brother will be sure to visit.”

[thebookbud]

A Cauldron of Uncanny Dreams

Author Donald Firesmith

A BookBud Review

Completed 09-06-2021

Genre: Adventure Fantasy

Basic Plot: A collection of short horror stories, from haunted farm houses to the devil himself, meant to disturb and horrify.  

Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book, and am leaving a review voluntarily.

Highlights:

Plot uniformity

Narrative ability

Dissatisfactions:

Lack of unique story lines

Horror clichés

Lack of build and delivery

Notable Quote(s):

I highlighted none

Rating Breakdown:

Flow 7/10

Plot 2/10

Creativity 1/10

Review:

First and foremost, I appreciate that this author took the time and immense energy needed to write this book for others to enjoy. He should be applauded for the effort. As for my review, while I loathe giving a bad one, in this case I found it necessary. Let's start with a look at horror anthologies overall. A well produced and captivating horror anthology is difficult to achieve, especially when being written by one author. You have limited time to draw in the reader, build the anticipation that creates fear while reading, then create a wallop of an ending to leave said reader shocked and awed by what just happened. With short stories, that is difficult to do. There's no give on the build so most good short horror stories focus on the finale, big reveals and strange twists, something to make it stand out or keep in the reader's memory. In the case of this particular collection, I felt none of these literary tools used properly. I would not say this description applies to all of the stories in this collection, but it was enough to put me off from wanting to read it. Most of them held generic, tired plots without the added oomph needed to really intrigue a seasoned horror fan, with dashes of cliché lines like, "I felt drawn to it" or similar ideas which were used in nearly every story to explain the protagonist's being involved.

I gave it a 1.5 out of 5. I really wanted to like this much more, as horror anthologies are actually one of my favorites as of the past few years, but I was deeply let down. There wasn't any depth of character, no situational unpredictability, no build to intrigue the reader. It felt generic, like someone following a recipe of what horror is. Each story lacked a unique plot, which in and of itself is not the issue; authors like Darcy Coates and Amy Cross do this all the time, ghost story after ghost story but they write in a way that's intriguing and captivating, even if it isn't the greatest writing to be done, it is compelling somehow. Another example would be Goosebumps or Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, both of which are for younger readers, yes, but hold that same idea of campfire like scary stories that give you a hard hit towards the end. This however, felt like it was without that same passion. It wasn't the worst anthology I've read, I just also wouldn't recommend it to most horror fans as again, I found the writing style and delivery wanting. I want to mention a positive as well, in that I felt this author’s narrative ability. The tone of the writing was done well through voice. I think this author holds a lot of potential since, as I said, not all of the stories in this were fitting of this overall rating, so I do believe it's possible with some more passion for the genre, or more work on emphasis in certain aspects, his writing could be amazing. I just wasn't impressed this time.

[forever-rogue]

How about a fix where Mando fell in love with a princess that had a bounty on her. Reader can be badass like Leia (bless May Carrie Fisher Rest In Paradise)

Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Did you really think you were just going to outrun me?” there was a tone of amusement in the bounty hunter’s voice as he loomed in front of you, leaving you trapped between him and the wall of the building. There were two options, you quickly realized, and neither of them were particularly good. One – you try and dash past him, ducking under one of his arms and hoping you’d outrun him this time, or two – you could surrender and turn yourself in and go with him. The second option definitely didn’t like fun, and the first was a risky option at best and most likely would fail. So, instead you remained in front of him, tilting your head to the side and giving him a smile you hoped was as sweet as honey.

“I mean yeah, that was the intended plan,” you admitted, shrugging innocently, “after all, what kind of bounty hunter goes after an innocent young lady?”

“You’re not so innocent, Princess,” he sighed at you and almost weren’t able to hold back the giggles that bubbled up. Up close and personal when he was like this, he didn’t seem so bad, not like the fearsome Mandalorian that you were told to expect. Maybe it was because you weren’t fighting him…you’d just run for life when he approached you. You’d managed to evade other bounty hunters for quite a while now and you knew it was only a matter of time before the best was sent after you, “you’ve got a handsome bounty on your head.”

“Oh? Is that so?” you feigned innocence, giving him the best doe eyes you could managed as you stared straight into the spot where his eyes would be, “you must have me mistaken for someone else. I’m just-”

“Save the speech,” he told you as the sound of approaching footfalls reached your ears. More. How many people did it take to bring in one of you? You hadn’t even done anything…not anything bad technically. A large looking thug started walking up behind the Mandalorian, blaster pointed at the two of, “I’m not mistaken. We both know I’m not.”

“Ugh, hate to cut you short, but there is a large and scary looking man coming up behind you,” you jerked your head in his direction, but the Mandalorian was unphased. There was a feeling in your gut that told you this guy wasn’t messing around, “look, I’m not trying to shake you or anything, but he looks pissed.”

He remained silent, crossing his arms over his chest as you started to panic. Almost without thinking, you reached for the blaster in his holster and grabbed it, aiming it over his shoulder. You had just enough him to shove him out of the way and dodge the blast that skimmed by your shoulder as you shot the incoming bounty hunter dead in his tracks. You let out a shaky breath as the blaster dropped from your hands and you leaned against the rough rock wall, your chest rising and falling rapidly.  The Mandalorian had barely had time to process what had happened, reaching down and picking up the discarded blaster and looking between you and dead man.

“I told you I wasn’t lying,” you managed to let out between your rattled breathing, “have you considered getting your hearing checked?”

“Thank you,” was all he said as he reached for the cuffs in his pocket. You sighed and rolled your eyes at him, raising an eyebrow as if to say seriously? After a few moments when he didn’t budge you begrudgingly obliged, limply holding up your wrists. He slapped the cuffs on, leaving them loose enough to where if you really wanted to escape you could, “let’s go.”

“I think this is a little dramatic,” you groaned as he put a hand on your shoulder and started leading you away, “besides I just saved your life and this is how you repay me?”

“I have a job to do,” was all he said, a stoic tone creeping into his voice. The rest of the walk back to his ship was silent, but there was something about the way he gripped your shoulder. Tight, but not too tight…just right.

»»————-　♡　————-««

He presented to be an enigma; both gentle and kind and yet stoic and stern. He'd led you onto his ship with few words, bringing you into the cockpit with him and sitting you in the copilot's seat, silently removing the handcuffs. You thanked him quietly, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting your head on them. Part of you wanted to fight him, to try and escape but you knew it was useless. Your time was up and your fate was sealed.

He was quiet for a while, focused on the piloting the ship, but you could tell he was itching to say something. He stole glances at you every once in a while, thinking you wouldn't notice. But you did; you were hyper aware of everything at moment.

"You might as well spit it out," you finally said as you turned to him, playing with the a loose lock of hair that had escaped your bun, "we've got nothing else to do right now."

"The bounty on your head," he said as he turned to you, swiveling in chair and facing you, "why is it so large?"

"Don't you know?" you almost scoffed at him, wondering if he was honest or just trying to see if you'd lie.

"I never ask. I just do the job," he answered and you nodded. It made sense: less information was less attachment. It made the job easier.

"I ran away from home last year," you admitted, finding it hard to meet his helmeted gaze, "they've been looking for me since."

"You ran away from a life of privilege and leisure," he stated, not even asking as you rolled your eyes.

"It was hardly a life of pleasure," you sighed, "yes, I had the things I desired and needed, but that was it. I wasn't even a person to them, a commodity to be used however they wanted. My father was insistent on my marriage to a man twice my age, who only wanted me to bear him a son. He made it no secret, especially since he'd publicly disposed of and shamed several wives before me. My father didn't care, he wanted to secure trade."

"Oh," was the only response from the Mandalorian as he watched you, feeling a pang in his chest as you dabbed at your eyes with your sleeve. You bit your lip and nodded, raising an eyebrow, "so you left. You've learned to defend yourself well."

"Of course I left. I would rather die than be married to a man I do not love that only wants one thing. I will do no man's bidding," you explained, a hardened glint in your eye as he listened to every word intently, "things were better before my mother died. She loved me, tried to raise me to be my own person. She was a skilled warrior, taught me everything I know. She would have been horrified to know what was happening, but my father turned into."

"I lost my parents too," he said suddenly, surprising himself with how easily he trusted with such personal information, "it changes you."

"Yes," you agreed, just now noticing how close you were to him, his knees brushing against yours, "so I left and decided to do the one thing that makes me happy."

"Which is?" he was gentle now and for a few moments it almost didn't seem like he was hunter and you were prey, just two friends talking.

"Helping others," you gave him a smile small, "there's so many children without parents in the Outer Rim, so I've been helping at places that take them in. It's not much but its something. My mother always told me it was important for us to give back...why should we have everything and they have nothing? It never seemed fair, so when I left I knew what I had to do."

"I think that's a very noble thing to do," the pang in his chest was followed by a weird feeling in his stomach. Were those butterflies? He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something about you that he was inexplicably drawn to.

"It doesn't matter anymore," you shrugged at him before standing up and turning to leave. He stopped you by ending grabbing your wrist in a gloved hand, his touch more gentle than you would have imagined, "what is it?"

"If you could go anywhere in the galaxy where would you go?" he asked, surprising you as you turned to him with a curious expression on your face.

"I've always wanted to see Naboo," you admitted, "I've heard its beautiful there."

"Set back down, Rebel Princess," you could tell there was a smile in his voice as he turned his head towards the seat next to him.

"What!?"

"We'll go on an adventure," he stated simply and you plopped back down into the seat.

"Before I go to my doom?"

"No," he promised, watching as the smile spread across your face. He already knew he was never going to get tired of seeing that, "you're not going back."

"They'll put a bounty on your head too," you told him, making sure he was fully aware of the choice he was making.

"I can handle it," he promised as you relaxed in the seat, staring at the stars outside.

"Why?" you asked as you turned back to him, "I'm just...me. One insignificant person."

"I don't know," he admitted, turning to you, "but you are definitely not insignificant. Everyone matters."

"As do you," you reminded me, reaching over and giving his forearm a light touch, "thank you. Seriously."

"There's nothing to thank me for, Princess," he said as he watched your hand, partly wishing you wouldn't remove it.

"Y/N. Please just call me Y/N," you insisted, "and should I call you Mando then? Everyone seems keen on calling you that."

"Din," he responded quietly, almost finding it weird to say his own name out loud. He hadn't shared it with anyone else in a long time, but he felt compelled to tell you, he knew you were trustworthy, "Din Djarin."

"Thank you for saving me Din Djarin. You were my only hope. My savior."

[vventure]

Change - Atsumu Miya Must Die, Ch. 1

Series Mini Mlist: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Atsumu Miya x fem!reader

Genre: Angst (only lightly this part), Fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none for now

Summary: Atsumu Miya is a player; dating three girls from three different friend groups so they don’t find out. What happens when they do, though? And how does [Y/N] play into their plan for ultimate revenge?

A/N: This is only the first chapter, so it’s a little dull, I’m sorry! Ahh okay, welcome to my little idea that wouldn’t get out of my head. I’m really excited about this project, and I hope you guys will be too! This fic is HEAVILY inspired by the movie John Tucker Must Die, and I just felt like breaking mean ole’ Atsumu’s heart (huehuehue). I’m not sure how many parts there will be for this, but I’ll definitely make a masterlist for it when the time comes.

Taglist: @for-ests​ @writeiolite​ -  message me if you want to be added!

“Atsumu Miya, there’s only one guy out there for me…” Your recorded voice blared from the flat screen in the bar as his college volleyball team and dormitory friends watched intently. 

Heart racing, you frantically ripped your body from Atsumu’s arms and ran to where the TV was plugged in, cutting the power. 

You didn’t make it in time, and those words you’d recorded so many months ago, before your plans were ruined by ‘Tsumu’s affections, made the room fall silent: “...and you are not...”

Whipping around, you locked eyes with the man you’d made fall in love with a fake version of you, and who you thought maybe you actually felt something for.

“What’s this?”

“I can’t believe we really just moved to Hyogo for a man,” your arms were crossed and your jaw was set as you addressed your sister Ami while riding with her to the boyfriend’s apartment. This had been a point of contention for months between the two of you. 

Since the loss of your parents, Ami became your guardian. You were pretty attached to each other, and so when your sister told you that she was planning to move to Hyogo to live with her boyfriend of six months, you felt compelled to move with her. Her decisions surrounding men had always been questionable, and this was no different.

For two months while preparing to move, you’d argue every day over small things and big things alike. You didn’t do the dishes right after finishing dinner? Fight. You wanted Ami to physically meet the man she was moving in with before the move? Fight.

And to make things worse, her resentment for being saddled with a hormonal teenager to take  care of in her early twenties was showing through. It hurt for you to realize her resentment towards you, no matter how much she told you she loved you and that she didn’t resent you.

Could you really blame her? Maybe a little; you were always more of an adult than she was in your shared life, and she probably resented more that she had to be a grounded adult instead of a flighty party girl.

“It’s not like this was out of nowhere, [Y/N],” your sister grumbled, shooting you a glare and pulling you from your thoughts. “Plus, you didn’t have to move, you had a place in Miyagi.”

“That’s a lot of traveling for holidays, and you know I have to keep my eye on you.”

“I’m an adult, I think I’m fine by myself,” Ami said. “You better not cramp our style while you’re staying with us.”

“So sue me for wanting to keep the only family I have left close,” you spat, looking away from your older sister. “I’ll be in the dorms in a week, resent me as much as you want until then, you’re really good at it.”

“Whatever,” she said, her attention completely leaving you as she pulled in front of a tall, sleek apartment building. This was way nicer than the one you’d shared in Miyagi, and your jaw dropped at the sight. What kind of guy was Riku anyway?

A tall man ran from the main door of the apartment building as Ami flung the car into park and jumped out without turning it off. You’d never seen her move this quickly as she ran and leapt into the arms of her boyfriend, his strong grip able to swing her around like a rag doll.

Pulling the keys from the dash, you stepped out and slung your bag over your shoulder. You thought your legs might give out after the long drive, but you willed yourself to stand and give Riku a guarded smile.

“Welcome, welcome!” He boomed, pulling you into a tight hug before picking up your bags and lugging them towards the front door. “I’ve already gotten a lot of the packages you sent, and I made sure to set up [Y/N]’s room so she’d be comfortable.”

“Rikuuu, you sweetheart,” Ami gushed, pulling his body to hers so she could plant a sloppy kiss on his lips. She’d driven the entire way from Miyagi to Hyogo and her exhaustion was showing. “So thoughtful.”

There was only one week until you could move into your dorm. One. Week. You could deal with their infatuation for one week, right?

--

Riku’s apartment, well-- Ami and Riku’s apartment-- was cozy. Small touches that your sister had sent through the post were littered around the main living area and it brought you a small feeling of comfort and home as you took them in. 

On the coffee table sat the misshapen mug you’d made during high school ceramics. On one of the walls was a picture Ami had taken of the backyard you’d shared during the time your parents were still around. He’d even displayed a picture of you and your sister on high school graduation day. Ami had worked hard to make your life normal during the last two years of high school, and her pride over your accomplishments showed so clearly in the sunny picture.

“This is a really nice apartment,” you said, turning to look at Riku as you spoke. “Thank you for letting me stay for a week.”

“Of course, [Y/N], anyone important to my boobear is important to me.”

His pet name made you want to gag, but you swallowed it and spoke again, “Where will I be sleeping?”

“Down the hall, first door on the right,” he said, handing your bags over. “Rest a little and we’ll get something to eat. I wanna show you guys my favorite restaurant!”

Making your way down the foreign corridor, you came upon an open room that had a small bed, bedside table, and dresser. It was plain, but honestly you didn’t need it to be anything fancy. Most of your things were still stacked in boxes off to the side of the dresser in anticipation of being moved into the dorm with you, but one of the boxes was cut open, and some of its contents had found their way to the dresser top and bedside table.

A framed picture of you, Chikara Ennoshita, Hisashi Kinoshita, Kazuhito Narita, Ryuunosuke Tanaka, and Yuu Nishinoya sat on the dresser. It was taken during their final volleyball game of high school, and even though they were sweaty and emotional they agreed to take a picture with their closest friend who was always there to support them. Next to that was a framed picture of Noya and you swinging in one of the parks near school, faces split by massive smiles as you enjoyed the childish pleasure of weightless glee.

Riku had made good choices for decoration, you’d give the stranger that.

You missed these goofs already; Chikara always checking on how you were doing in college and making sure you were eating healthily and drinking water; Kazuhita texting you to make sure that you weren’t too stressed and you were taking care of yourself mentally; Hisashi coming by to take you out for boba, showing you the latest memes he’d acquired; and Yuu and Ryuu dragging you along to parties, which you always ended up enjoying no matter how much you complained about them. 

Your heart ached at the memories of your friends no longer a short bus ride or walk away. 12 hours was a lot of distance between you all, and it was finally hitting you that this was not Miyagi anymore. What if you didn’t make any friends here? 

It was already your third year of college, and most of the people in your classes would likely already have friend groups. How weird would you look when you moved into a dorm with people who likely knew each other?

With a sigh, you flopped face-first onto the bed and willed the fresh cotton scented bed covering to suffocate you. What if your friends from Miyagi didn’t care about your absence. You let out a half-hearted wail imagining Chikara blocking your number, irrationality taking over your brain.

“[Y/N]?” Ami’s voice drifted through the open door as she looked for you. “We’re gonna go get something to eat now, actually. Riku is hungry and I think I am too.”

She thinks she is? You rolled over and sat up to look at her.

“Y’know, Riku seems really nice. I don’t think you have to, like, change yourself for him or whatever you usually do for the guys you date,” you said while swinging your legs over the edge of the bed to stand.

Ami just rolled her eyes and rejoined Riku in the living room. You were fast on her heels, slipping out of your house shoes and putting on your sneakers.

“Alright!” Riku said with a smile. “Let’s go get onigiri!”

[kenzieam]

Save My Life - Chapter One

@jewels2876​ ​​​​​ @moonbeambucky​ ​​​​​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ ​​​​​ @iammarylastar​@captstefanbrandt​ ​​​​​ @badassbaker​ ​​​​​ @pinknerdpanda​ ​​​​​

I know I’m forgetting people, sorry. If you want in, hit me.

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Warnings: Definitely M. Language, violence, adult situations, graphic mentions of horrible things, traumatic death and descriptions.

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!!!!!TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!!

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Paramedic Bucky Barnes has seen it all and it’s definitely taken a toll on his mind and body, witnessing senseless death, all but wading through it at times as he is the first responder to so many ghastly accidents and mishaps. The widow of one of his former patients haunts him long after his brief, chaotic contact with her and destiny conspires to cross their paths again. Can the broken man and grieving woman find peace together?

Feedback is life, y’all.

***********************************************************************

EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER

With a growl and a groan, Bucky rolled over onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes. His body throbbed in a way that, while unwelcome, was far from unpleasant and he reached down, palmed his aching cock through the plain black boxer briefs he usually slept in.

It was so much easier to stumble to the shower if he only had to tangle with briefs, not try to pull a t-shirt off his muscular frame, it wasted precious seconds that could be better spent gasping for breath under the spray, hands pressed to the wall and bowed forwards, water washing away the nightmares that had torn him from uneasy sleep to begin with.

The dichotomy wore at him, even as he relived the horrors of her husband’s messy final moments of life, his body yearned for her, his cock hardening while his mind played the reel over and over, the sightless eyes, the crunching of the man’s ribcage beneath his hands.

There was no use fighting it, he’d tried so many times, only to lose every battle.

His pleasure crested, peaked and he groaned in release, his cock pulsing thick ropes of his seed onto his heaving stomach but the physical gratification didn’t touch the emotional turmoil and he dropped his hand with another groan, squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth until the sensations faded, both the ecstasy and the guilt.

Finally, he moved, hauling himself off the bed, off the tangled, soaked sheets and grimaced; the evidence of his twisted mind drying on his belly. Stumbling over last night’s jeans he shuffled into the bathroom and turned the water to scalding, scowling at his face in the mirror, scrubbing a hand over his stubble.

Would he finally get his shit together today? What compelled him, day after day, to continue like this? Sure, not every call ended the way that one had, but the good ones had long stopped overpowering the bad, their shadows too dark to chase away.

His phone jangled, clashing with his already raw nerves. Would such a simple sound ever stop eliciting such a heart-stopping response in him? He reached for the receiver, his seed still painting his belly, pulling at the downy hair there as it dried and silently held it to his ear. The voice on the other end knew he was there.

“Hey.” Steve said quietly.

“Hey.”

“Is today the day?” The day you stop this, quit the job that’s slowly killing you and start putting yourself back together again?

Bucky exhaled, a harsh yet anemic sound. “No, not today.”

Steve, his partner of eleven years, the man who usually drove the ambulance while Bucky worked so hard in the back, sighed quietly. Closer than brothers, he could read Bucky like an open book, but it went both ways and Bucky could hear the small smile on his face too. Although it was slowly killing both of them, there was nobody they’d rather die beside.

“See you at the station?”

“Yeah, an hour.”

“Coffee.”

“Your turn.” Bucky grunted, slamming the receiver down. Their shorthand baffled most, pissed off others, but you couldn’t be stripped bare emotionally in front of someone for over a decade and not connect like that.

One last lingering glance in the mirror, a brief grimace at the haunted cast in his blue eyes, then he continued into the shower, letting the water wash away both the sweat and the tears.

**********************************************************************

“Still having nightmares?” Steve asked, glancing Bucky’s way before returning his attention to the road. On their way to a frequent flyer found semi-conscious and, no doubt, more than semi-intoxicated, sprawled on the ground outside a local McDonald’s, there was a mild sense of urgency but an even larger sense of ‘same-old, same-old’ weary acceptance.

“Never stop.” Bucky replied shortly, barely looking up from poking listlessly at the computer screen mounted on the dash.

“About her?”

Bucky exhaled, eyes falling closed until the pain, while by no means gone, diminished enough to allow him to draw the next breath. “Yeah.”

“Man, that was over a year ago and you haven’t seen her since. What gives?” Steve demanded, slapping the steering wheel with the palm of his hand before cursing under his breath and hitting the sirens again to persuade a stubborn car out of their lane.

Bucky mused that he’d probably hear those god-damned sirens in hell.

“I don’t know-”

“Her husband died-”

“I know!”

“And I’m sure the last person she wants to see is the guy who was covered in his blood literally crushing the man’s ribs!”

“I know!” Bucky bellowed, slamming his fist on the dash then pulling it back with a grunt to cradle against his muscular chest. He’d need the full use of his hands, both massive paws that somehow could be so gentle and precise while intubating or placing an IV line, to deal with the patient they were now pulling up on.

“You using again?” Steve asked, voice low, bordering on a mix of angry and disappointed.

Bucky turned away, opening the door and jumping out before the bus had come to a full stop.

************************************************************

Lev glanced around briefly before dropping her eyes again. She felt supremely uncomfortable here, despite the fact that she was one of the more in-control attendees; she wasn’t weeping ceaselessly into a handkerchief, or burying her face in her hands while her shoulders shook, or muffling her wails on the shoulder of the person beside her. She was keeping it together.

Wasn’t she?

Eighteen months since Clint’s violent and unexpected death and this was her first meeting for grieving survivors, held in an aging school gymnasium that smelled like old socks and even older sweat, the wood floor marked and scarred with years of abuse.

Her friend Wanda had finally put her foot down, after a year and a half of back and forth, of, ‘I’m fine, just tired’ excuses and tearful limbo and all but dragged Lev to her doctor, where the kindly soul who may or may not be hiding pain just as visceral as hers and therefore knew what he was talking about had suggested this place, as an alternative to the pharmaceutical option that had been the first choice, and rejected so vehemently by Lev to warrant it’s proposal.

She glanced around. The middle-aged woman who’d lost her husband when he’d choked to death right in front of her during their weekly Sunday brunch, three chairs over in the large circle; the man who’d suffered through agonizing minutes of his wife pleading for help over her phone, then her final screams of terror as her car’s throttle had malfunctioned on the freeway and she’d careened at top speed into an embankment, instantly dying but taking with her his unborn son as well, five chairs over; then…. Him.

Lev startled slightly, dropping her gaze before it could be returned. Her memories of that time were so scattered and chaotic, stained with Clint’s blood and the sound of that goddamn siren, but she remembered him, or more accurately, the pain in his supernatural blue eyes.

Built like a marine, massive and muscled, shoulder-length hair pulled back into a loose bun, clad not in his uniform but a simple red long-sleeved Henley and jeans, hulking and intimidating until you looked closer and saw the anguish, was the paramedic that had tried so hard to save her husband’s life that lifetime ago.

Her heart sped up and she focussed obsessively on her cuticles. She wished suddenly for Wanda, but she’d insisted on attending tonight by herself and consequently was now alone as a tsunami of memories crashed over her. The incongruity of smells: bitter antiseptic, raw panic and body expulsions, warm male musk and blood; the duelling opposites that had all but torn her in half: frightening, in-your-face reality as Clint’s blood dried on her face coupled with the dream-like quality of the whole drawn-out nightmare.

How did that man cope? Dealing with that life and ugly death daily? Was that why he was here now, slumped in his chair and listening to other lambs to the slaughter open their veins in wretched attempts to assuage the pain?

She was called gently upon to speak, to give her name and reason why she was here; what screaming banshee howled unending torment in her ears, but she shook her head, burrowing further in on herself and muttering a vow to make herself talk next time, no matter how uncomfortable.

An eternity and an eye-blink later, the meeting ended, and Lev stood stiffly, her body raw and pulsating with fresh grief. For lack of anything else to do, she wandered to the refreshment table, knowing she was far too shaky yet to attempt to drive herself home and picked up a pre-poured paper cup of juice and pack of generic cookies. She’d just sat at an empty table and touched the cup to her lips when a quiet, tentative voice washed over her.

“Hi.”

She glanced at him, quickly back down again. “Hi.” Her voice was stronger than she felt, and she was grateful for the support of the table and chair.

“May I sit?” There was a puzzling hesitancy in his voice, as if he expected screaming rejection, but Lev was too tired to push someone else away, it was too wearying keeping her own mind and body quiet.

At her nod, he sat, picking at his own pack of cookies, seeming to be warring with himself about something.

“I remember who you are, you know.” Lev added, watched his shoulder slump with mingled relief and trepidation.

“I didn’t know… if you…. did or not-” He mumbled, trailing off uncomfortably.

“Hard to forget that day.” Lev whispered. She hesitated before adding. “I never got a chance but… thank you… for trying.”

He nodded, jaw tight, not lifting his eyes from the table.

“How do….” She didn’t want to ask, but God, she did too. “How do you manage to do that… as a job I mean?”

He smirke humorlessly, gesturing with one massive hand to the assembly around them.

“Does it help?”

He shrugged. “More than the company counselling. A friend of mine suggested it a couple years ago; I try to come when I can but….” He cleared his throat. “What about you?”

Lev dropped her eyes again, puzzlingly embarrassed. “My first time. My friend… she made me see a doctor-”

He held up a large hand. Say no more.

“How are you sleeping?” He asked quietly, lifting his hypnotizing gaze to hers again, which she quickly averted, in parts shocked and soothed by the tractor-pull that seemed to emanate from his supernatural blue eyes.

The question stung somehow, and it was so much easier to bite at that then lay bare the devastation beneath. “How do you?” Even as the question left her lips she recoiled, horrified with herself and pressed her hand to her mouth.

He flinched, barely perceptively, but the dark rings under his eyes answered her.

“God, I’m sorry-”

He shook his head, held up a massive hand again. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not!” What was wrong with her, biting the first hand that extended any type of friendliness? “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“This place… feeling this way… it makes you raw.” He replied, glancing up at her before looking away and gesturing with a chin jerk to a nearby table. “Sweetest old lady you’ll ever meet over there, but once she comes here and starts remembering her husband’s death again, turns into an old hag.” He twisted the paper cup in his hands, completely engulfing it before taking a sip. “Later, she’ll sit there with a stunned look on her face, like she’s waking up from a black-out.”

“I don’t want to be an old hag.”

A faint smile touched his full lips, temporarily lighting up his unbelievably handsome face. “You’d never be.” A faint pink flush and he looked away again.

Lev suddenly couldn’t breathe. The room, the man across from her, were taking all the air and she stumbled to her feet. “I have to go.”

He watched her, face falling and tried to stand but Lev lifted her hand, an emotional traffic cop, and shook her head. “I’m fine.”

It was a lie, and both knew it, but he only watched sadly as she hurried out the gymnasium doors to the darkness outside, head bowed.

**************************************************

“You never answered me.” Steve spoke suddenly, breaking the silence in the bus as they took a rare break between calls, sitting in the parking lot of a local coffee-shop, trying to wolf down their breakfast sandwiches before the radio blared and re-established reality.

Bucky grunted, knowing what his partner was referring to but hoping that he’d drop it if he played silly buggers.

“James.” Shit, he was serious, using Bucky’s given name.

Bucky sighed, staring out the windshield. “It’s under control.”

“Is it?” Steve all but shouted. “Shooting H? Seriously, man. How do you have that ‘under control’?! What the fuck, James!”

“I don’t do it all the time-”

“Once is too many!”

“Fuck you. You got someone to come home to-”

“DO NOT put that on me, asshole. You’ve had plenty of women hoping for your last name, what the hell are you always waiting for?”

“I’m-”

“Stop thinking about that girl, it’s never going to happen!”

A bitter retort stung Bucky’s tongue and he knew if he spit it out it would poison their enduring friendship, weaken it just when he needed it the most but he was saved from sabotaging himself by the damned radio itself, the dispatcher’s efficient voice relaying maximum information with minimal syllables.

Glaring daggers at Bucky, obviously having a damn good idea what he had been about to say, Steve snorted angrily and grabbed the microphone, snapping an affirmative before slamming the vehicle in gear and hitting the sirens.

************************************************************************

Levi was not at the next meeting and Bucky felt a curious mix of relief and disappointment. Steve was right, this was never going to happen and, even if it did, he had no right dragging this girl down into his shit, not when she was still trying to dig herself out of her own. But still, he was disappointed; she was the rare light in his darkness, had been since the moment he’d first seen her, even with all the chaos and horror around her, cradling her dying husband’s head in her lap, pleading with someone, anyone to help. When their eyes had locked, a visceral, physical jolt had shot through him, almost painful in its intensity and he’d become personally invested in doing all he could to help, if not the patient he’d been dispatched for, then her.

Anything for her.

He was a sad fuck.

He’d barely heard the meeting going on around him, the others whispering their shame and pain, the answering murmurs from fellow sufferers. He rarely spoke at these, was rarely called on anyway because the overseer, a thin, bantam rooster of a man named Tony, who still lost all confidence and swagger when remembering his dear wife, Pepper, who’d passed suddenly from an aneurysm a few years previous, knew who Bucky was and why he was here.

He had no personal stories of loss to tell, but shared the pain of every single death he witnessed, every patient he tried to save and usually ended up only managing to usher into the afterlife with some semblance of comfort anyway.

He left the meeting that night alone, curled up on the floor at the end of his bed and found a vein.

[tvdiaries-imagines]

Old Flame: Pt. 6

Warnings: None 

Word Count: 2522

OLD FLAME MASTERLIST: CLICK HERE  

After Klaus broke Kai’s neck, you proceeded with transferring his unconscious body to his hotel room with the help of Elijah driving you there. There was no way Klaus will allow you to leave the compound again without protection. And an unconscious heretic lacks just that.

Upon entering the hotel room, Elijah allowed Kai’s body to drop on the carpet like a rag doll before sitting on the sofa, checking the time on his expensive watch.

“Ummm Elijah, I’ll be fine.” You implied, realizing that Elijah plans to keep watch of you.

“Nonsense, Y/N. Niklaus has requested that you pack your things and you will spend the remainder of your stay with us.” Elijah said. You rolled your eyes.

“Well, request denied.” You chuckled darkly. “I’m perfectly safe here with Kai.”

Elijah sighed dramatically, freeing his cell phone from his jacket pocket. A few seconds later, he stands and hands you the phone. Your eyes flickered at it, wearing a confused expression. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Hello?” Klaus’s voice is heard from the phone.

“Go on, sister.” Elijah said and you snatched the phone from his hand, bringing it to your ear, sighing with exasperation.

“Nik, I’m not going to be staying there because I’m perfectly safe here. I’ll see you in the morning.” Klaus didn’t respond so you added, “And don’t make Elijah spend the night here either.”

“You must be mad to think I will allow that after what happened to you today!”

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, your tone clipped. “You don’t own me. And you already had Elijah escort me here, so I think that’s enough protection. And besides, I can ask Kai to do a cloaking spell on me when he wakes up if that will make you feel better.”

“That will not do.” You can practically feel his scowl on the other end.

“Well I don’t know what to tell you then.”

There was a pause before Klaus responded. “Hand the phone back to Elijah, love.” He said in a suspiciously calm tone. You brushed it off, grabbing your luggage and bringing it with you to the bathroom to grant yourself a deserving shower.

(Meanwhile…)

“You know what to do, Elijah.”

“Niklaus, are you sure of this?” Elijah sighed. “Y/N will be furious with you and I.”

“She can be cross with me for as long as she wants. At least I know she is safe. There are far too many threats in this bloody city for me to take any risks on her account.”

“Very well, brother.”

Elijah ended the call, tucking his phone away inside his jacket pocket, dreading his next move.

After 20 minutes, your shower session is ceased and you are dressed in a lounging outfit which consisted of black leggings and a plain black tee. You opened the door and pulled your luggage along with you as you make your way to exit the bathroom.  

As you opened the door, your brows furrowed seeing Elijah standing directly into front of you with an unreadable expression.

“I need to get through.” You uttered.

“Sincerest apologies, sister,”

“What-,” and in one brisk move, everything goes black.

(Later…)

Your eyes fluttered open, waking up to soft sheets in an unfamiliar bedroom. The curtains are drawn, but a crack of it didn’t cover the French door entirely. You can see that it’s already sunrise, but you don’t know the time since your phone is nowhere in sight.

You also felt a wave of nausea and an indescribable need for blood. It’s a very familiar feeling, which soon brought you to realize that someone shot vervain in your system so that you’d remain knocked out longer. You groaned in exasperation.

Sitting up, you massaged your neck with your palms, aggravated that you’ve gotten your neck broken one too many times during your visit. The last thing you remembered was seeing Elijah’s face before being knocked out cold. You sighed in relief, realizing you didn’t get kidnapped by an enemy of Klaus’s. But you’re infuriated that you

were brought against your will to what you assume is the Mikaelson compound.

“Rise and shine.” Klaus said suddenly, smirking under the door sill with his hands behind his back.

You narrowed your eyes at him, breathing heavily before dashing towards the hybrid, holding him by the throat as you slam him against the railing of the second floor.

“You asshole!” Your grip tightened around his throat but it didn’t anger him one bit. You wanted to break his neck to get rid of that damn smirk.

Klaus placed his hands up in defense. “Easy, sweetheart. It was for your own good.”

“Y/N, calm yourself.” Elijah’s voice echoed from the courtyard, one hand in his front pant pocket. You rolled your eyes and slightly loosened your grip, still keeping your palm intact.

Hayley grinned next to Elijah with her arms folded over her chest. “Well done, Y/N. I like you so much more already.” She said with genuine approval.

Your arm fell to your side before marching away to look for the Mikaelson’s blood stash. You oddly appreciated Hayley being on your side, but the audience wasn’t necessary for you.

“Hayley, I ask that you do not praise her behavior.” Elijah implied.   

“Come on, Elijah. It’s not like Klaus doesn’t deserve it.” She shook her head and disappeared out the exit with Elijah following behind her.

After searching around this maze of a building, you finally find the family’s stash in a refrigerator inside a large room with a bar. You grabbed a cold blood bag, made yourself comfortable on the bar stool and poured the red deliciousness in a glass over the bar counter.

You took a generous gulp of the delectable, thick liquid and you started feeling like yourself again. Footsteps approached behind you and you knew exactly who it belongs to. “If I see you smirk one more time, I’ll stab you in your sleep.” You spat.

Klaus sat on the bar stool beside you. “I meant it when I said this is for your own good, Y/N.”

“I told you I was safe with Kai.”

He snorted. “You mean that pathetic little wanker?”

“Nik stop.” You warned. “I know that he’s extremely annoying, but he cares about my safety as much as you do.”

“There are far more threats in this city than you both know. I am positive that you are safest here with me.”

“You really believe so?” You muttered.

“I do.” He swallowed, eyes never leaving yours. “And I can’t risk losing you again.”

Your lips parted and your heart dropped, caught off guard by Klaus’s sudden choice of words. I can’t risk losing you again. You weren’t sure if he meant losing you to an enemy or if he is referencing to losing you as his beloved long ago.

You didn’t even dare to ask what he meant. Instead, you placed your hand above his knee, stroking it with your thumb. “Fine.” You said softly.

You know Klaus well enough that he isn’t going to  stop until he gets his way. Not to mention, the only reason you are even in New Orleans is to be here for him. It’s only fair that you oblige.

The corner of his lips quirked up, visibly satisfied from your response. You removed your hand from his knee and he grabbed an empty glass, pouring the remaining blood from your blood bag in his glass. “It’s only fair we cheers to our agreement.” Klaus said, raising his glass. You clanked your glass with his.

After taking another deserving sip, you realized something. “I need my phone so I can call Kai and let him know I’m okay. I don’t want him showing up here again.” You planted your feet on the floor, stretching an arm out, gesturing your fingers in a give it here motion. You know Klaus has your phone.

“That is all taken care of, love.” He grinned.

“What did you do to him, now?” You placed your hands on your hips, glaring.

“You really think that low of me?” Klaus said, feigning insult. You raised a brow. “Elijah took care of him. But needn’t you worry. A hair on his head was not harmed.”

“Okay. Then explain.” You said sternly.

“Elijah left him safe and sound in his suite. He’s assured that that nuisance will not step anywhere near the compound.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Let’s just say, my brother has a way with words. He can be very persuasive.”

Here’s to hoping Kai actually listens.

You sighed. “I guess I’ll take your word for it. Anyways, I’m starving for real food. Did you compel a chef to make breakfast already?”

“Actually, I have a better idea. What do you say I take you around the French quarter?”

“Sure. But you’re paying for my meal. It’s the least you can do for having my neck broken and vervaining me.” You turned on your heel, making your way back to your bedroom to get ready.

An hour later, both you and the hybrid are walking side by side through the gates of the compound. The warmth of the sun and the sounds within the French quarter welcomes you.

During the stroll, Klaus educated you on nearly every building’s history and you were very eager to learn. Later, you ended up seated across from each other outside the cafe he chose. And since you’re the tourist here, you had Klaus choose your order for you.

While breakfast time was taking place, Klaus went into more detail by informing you about his relationships with the supernatural locals. You even learned about his history with Marcellus AKA Marcel. He is someone Klaus has never mentioned to you in the past, due to the pain him and his family endured when they assumed Marcel was killed by Mikael.

You also chimed in by telling Klaus that you met a friend of his named, Camille. He was grateful to learn that you genuinely like her.

After breakfast was finished, the two of you started walking back towards the compound.

“So…” You started, turning your neck and lifting your chin up to glance at Klaus. “You mentioned earlier that there are more threats in New Orleans. Who did you piss off this time, Nik?”

“There is a 16 year old witch whom I’ve never met that has crafted moonlight rings for my fellow brethren. I plan to confront her tonight.” He replied confidently.

“Tonight? Why don’t we just go now? We’re already out.” You shrugged your shoulders. Klaus instantly stiffened.

“There is no we.” He implied. “You are to stay with Elijah in the compound.”

“Excuse me?” You chuckled and halted your steps with your arms folded across your chest. “You are the one who said I am safest with you. And the reason I am even in this city is to be here for you.” Your head tilted, curious to hear what Klaus has to say to that.

He stopped in his tracks merely a few steps ahead of you, turning to face you. “No. This is a different matter.” He said.

“Nik, I am not as fragile as you make me out to be.”

“Did you forget what happened to you last time?” He clenched his jaw, keeping his frustration in check.

You hands relaxed to your sides as you rolled your eyes playfully, not phased by his sour mood. “I was caught off guard last time. But this time I’ll be prepared.” You walked past him and he didn’t fail to follow, sauntering beside you.

Klaus’s hardened expression gradually wilted away step by step. “Well, aren’t you a stubborn little thing.” He raised a brow.

“It shouldn’t be a surprise to you.” You paused, your smile slowly faltering. “We did date and live together for quite some time.”

“Indeed we did.” A smile tugged at his lips as he sustained his gaze. You flashed a nervous smile at him, unpurposefully staring at the concrete from the wave of nostalgia hitting you. “What is it, love?” He asked after a minute, brows furrowed.

It’s difficult not to reminisce when you’re in his very  presence. And when you do reminisce in front of him, your mood always seems to abruptly shift.

You peered at him through your lashes. “Would you have called?”

“What are you talking about?” His forehead creased, bewildered.

“I’m talking about your old mansion in Mystic Falls.” You swallowed anxiously as you shifted your view towards the ground, unable to look Klaus in the eyes any longer. “If you would’ve known I came back for you there...would you have called me?” Your eyes shifted down to your fiddling fingers, anxiously waiting to hear his response.

It took a few seconds for Klaus to finally speak.

“No.” He said.

You nipped at your bottom lip as your heart sunk into your chest, fighting back tears. You didn’t exactly expect him to say yes, but you didn’t expect him to say no either. Apart of you didn’t even want to know the answer, but your gut was telling you to ask anyways.

Maybe the reason you agreed to coming all the way here is because deep down, you needed answers. Not only because Rebekah begged you to.

Klaus suddenly placed a hand over your shoulder, ceasing your sauntering as he turned you to face him. That same hand found its way to your warm cheek.

You were puzzled as to why the hybrid’s eyes glistened with sorrow, but you didn’t say a word because you were far too distracted by the embarrassment from rejection. So instead, your eyes looked downcast.

“I would have arrived at the Salvatore’s doorstep with a one way ticket for you to New Orleans.” Klaus confessed, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes darted to his irises. Blinking, a tear fell down your cheek and Klaus didn’t hesitate to wipe it with his thumb. Though you are overwhelmed with relief, all you wanted to do this very moment was slap him across the face for making you feel utterly embarrassed for no reason.

He had the audacity to play with my emotions like that. You thought to yourself.

Instead of giving into your temptation to slap his perfectly sculpted face, your lips curled up to a smile as you continued to gaze into his eyes, placing your small fingers around his wrist that is against your chin. You lightly pulled his arm down to fall to his side.

“Maybe it should have been me that called.” You admitted in a soft tone, shrugging a shoulder.

“Might I suggest we do not dwell on the ‘what ifs’. All that matters is you’re here now.” He grinned as he raised your hand to his plump lips, planting a soft kiss against your knuckles. Your insides stirred with delight.

“I guess you’re right.” You said.

Instead of releasing your hand, Klaus lowered it himself to lace his fingers through yours before moving on his feet through the French quarter.

-

A/N: What a chapter!! I hope you all are enjoying so far! Also, I’m so sorry that Kai didn’t make an appearance this time. I have so many crazy ideas for Old Flame and if my writers block doesn’t take over, I’ll proceed with more parts/chapters. Thank you all for your extremely kind comments! They honestly have kept me going :’)

TAGS: @ynm1505 @ravenmoore14 @xdontxcare@seasiren96@anyasthoughts @woodworthti666 @agentmarvel13 @miss-lumiere @elizabethann1090 @physically-a-cheesecake @azhar1422 @morsmornte @retrocontessa @kollover24 @thewolf-and-thesheep

[hvlfwygod]

muddy | koda&patrick

summary: a chance encounter in the middle of the night. koda changes her hair. patrick gets paint on his hands.

The heavy keyring jingled in her hand as Koda locked up the bar for the night - or rather for the early morning. She called a goodbye to one of her coworkers as she double checked to make sure she had returned her server's apron and clipped the keyring to one of her belt loops.  The time on her phone read 3:17 a.m. Not bad for a closing shift, she thought, slowly making her way down the lamp-lit streets. It had been a busy night at the bar, with last call being a mad dash to serve more drinks, but despite the fact that she couldn't remember the last time she had sat down, Ko was still in high spirits.

She was about halfway through her walk to the townhouse when she spotted a familiar figure bathed in the lamplight. Koda hopped off the sidewalk, far more pep in her step than you would expect someone to have after such a long shift, and made her way towards the figure. She stopped just outside the circle of light and gave a tentative wave, not wanting to startle her brother if he hadn't seen her approach. "Hey, couldn't sleep?"

Patrick's head was entirely inside his painting. Not literally, but it that if he looked around, the world would be in the stark, textured darkness of the scene he was constructing. He hadn't lifted his eyes from the canvas in what felt like hours (but was realistically only a few minutes) and the brushstrokes had turn into a rhythm. The streetlights weren't ideal, but the feeling of the quiet town, and the drugs giving him bright visions, had compelled him out of his bed in the middle of the night.

He was so engrossed that he barely noticed Koda, and even thought he was hearing things when his sister spoke. It was only after several quiet seconds that he finally tore his eyes off the layers of the painting and checked over his shoulder. "Oh," he said. She was actually there. Patrick blinked and waved with the hand that wasn't holding the brush. "Sup."

In the moments it took Patrick to tear himself from his focus, Koda let her eyes skim over his painting; an extension of darkness he sat swathed in as he painted. At his greeting, she smiled brightly and gestured to the keys at her hip that clinked together as she moved. "Closing shift. Just got off work." She took another step closer. "A little late night painting?"

"I don't remember asking," he said, but his voice lacked any bite or nastiness. In fact, he looked almost amused— at himself, or the joke, or the sight of his sister in such a dark dress code, maybe. He placed his brush down with extreme care, as if he might drop it to the pavement. "What time is it?"

Koda shrugged off her brother's jibe, watching how gentle he was in the act of setting down his paintbrush. She was reminded once more just how much his art meant to him and couldn't help but smile. Quickly checking the time on her phone, she flashed the screen in his direction. "Three-thirty," she answered helpfully, resisting the urge to tell him to see for himself. "How long have you been painting in the dark?"

Patrick looked puzzled, staring up at the sky. "I thought it was way closer to dawn," he announced. "Hm." Then, he turned to fully look at his sister. "I think I've been out here for an hour? I was waiting for all the drunks to go home so it'd be empty out here. Normally I'd just take pictures and recreate it during the day but..." Patrick wondered if he should mention that he was on drugs, the decided against it. "Inspiration struck."

"Not just yet, you've got a few hours still," Koda countered, cheerful as ever. She could only smile as Patrick explained what had lead to him painting out in the pitch dark, illuminated only by streetlamps. "Inspiration struck," she exhaled a laugh. "It's nice to see you, even if it is in the middle of town in the wee hours of night." She looked around, subconsciously shifting her hair to match the color of some paint on his palette, and watched the way shadows moved in the dark, fascinated. "What inspired you exactly?

Only after she said it was nice to see him, did Patrick realize that they hadn't crossed paths in weeks. There were a string of unanswered texts from her sitting on his phone. He watched her hair change color and his mind trailed off from answering her question. Impulsively, Patrick approached her and pinched a piece of her hair. "That's like," he looked back to the canvas and pointed to the upper corner, where the dark clouds glowed a little gray from the painted on moonlight.

As Patrick lifted a few strands of her hair off her shoulder to inspect with wide eyes, Koda exhaled a small laugh. Her eyes followed his pointed finger to the corner of his painting, admiring the way he had blended the colors of clouds in the moonlit canvas. "Ooh, yes!" She nodded excitedly, only a little surprised by Patrick's closeness, a bit buzzed from her Saturday night shift to notice right away that he wasn't sober. Koda lifted her hand: a small cluster of clouds and a Mist-y moon hovered above her palm, matching Patrick's painting. "Like this too!"

Patrick blinked rapidly, rearing his head back slightly as a small celestial body materialized into thin air. "Woah." He almost asked if Koda was seeing this too, but she spoke before he could and he just nodded. "Weird," he said, drifting his fingers over the glowing orb, then placed his hand right above hers, imagining that he was holding up the tiny moon instead of his sister. "Your powers are so freaky. Why are you here? Wait." He lowered his hand and lightly grabbed hers. "Closing shift."

A few more clouds of Mist materialized around them, whether intentional or not, it was hard to tell. Her powers often had a mind of their own once substances factored in. One little cloud settled right on Koda's shoulder as Patrick layered their hands. She peered up at him, an amused smile on her face. "My powers are the freaky ones?" When he grabbed her hand, she let out another surprised laugh. "Yes! Closing shift. Big Saturday night fun! Maybe a little too much fun for three in the morning," she giggled, holding the thumb and forefinger  of her free hand together  to illustrate just how much. A loose tendril of Mist curled around Patrick's hand and trailed up his wrist as she gave his hand a squeeze, redirecting his attention to the painting a few feet away. "Will you be out here much longer?"

"I think I'm almost done," Patrick said. He frowned at his wrist and the Mist circling it, as if just noticing that they were holding hands. He glanced back at the canvas, his urge to keep painting suddenly gone. Patrick dropped his hand back to his side, then walked back to the picture, squinting at it. "If I keep going..." He paused, frowning again, then shook his head. "I'm gonna let it dry."

The Mist dissipated when Patrick dropped her hand and Koda took a step after him, moving closer to his painting. Her hair returned to a bright aquamarine as she studied his brushstrokes and composition, further admiring his work. "You should submit it," she looked over at her brother. "To that art show. I don't know if that's your thing, but it could be cool." She summoned a bit of Mist to fidget with, rolling the tendrils through her fingers before speaking again, trying not to sound hopeful. "Do you want to come back to the townhouse? We could catch up?"

Patrick's nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed as Koda looked back at him over her shoulder. He was quiet for a while, not acknowledging her question about going to the townhouse. "I'm submitting something else," he said, and though he shrugged nonchalantly there was a small challenge in his voice. "Since you decided I'm too radioactive to do our painting."

Koda opened her mouth to ask about the other piece he planned on submitting but slowly shut it as he spoke. Her mouth formed a thin line as she debated how to answer, rolling his words around in her mind. "I don't think you're radioactive, Patrick." She gestured at his phone, a small smile returning to her face. "I called and texted you. I even tried to catch you at the studio, but you were never there when I dropped by to paint. I wasn't going to show up at your apartment. Something tells me you wouldn't have liked that much."

Despite her careful words, the calming tone, Patrick visibly bristled. He was more alert than he'd been all night in that moment. He couldn't identify exactly what he was feeling, but whatever this knot in his chest was, he didn't like it. "Do you even know where I live?" he asked, then shook his head. That wasn't wasn't he wanted to say. "I wouldn't have liked it. But..." He shook his head again; the whole world seemed to tilt and he sighed as he turned to clumsily pick up his brushes.

“No, I don’t. I know you live with Grey in the apartments but that’s all. You sort of...ghosted, Pat.” She watched quietly as he gathered up his brushes, fingers itching to help him cover up his paints, to do something instead of just standing there awkwardly. Koda rubbed the back of her neck, unsure if she should bring up what had happened with Tai, but quickly decided against it, continuing her former train of thought. “Why did you?”

He might regret it tomorrow, but Patrick just hastily shoved his brushes back into his tackle box. He tried to tune out Koda as much as possible, but it was impossible when he was already this annoyed. Patrick grit his teeth but just shrugged again, keeping his back to her. “Does it matter?”

Koda sucked her teeth, gesturing aimlessly with one hand to Patrick’s back as she watched his cleanup take on more of a frenzy. “I wouldn’t have asked if it didn’t. What’s going on?”

Patrick quickly capped his tubes of paint and dropped them in the box along with his palette knife, not noticing the color getting smeared across his palms. He balled up the paper where he’d been mixing colors and tossed that inside as well. “Same old shit, Ko.”

Koda huffed and crossed her arms. "I don't know what that means, Pat." She watched him clumsily deconstruct his set up and cringed when he tossed his palette paper into his tackle box along with all his other supplies, knowing from experience that he'd find a big mess the next time he opened it. She took a step closer, trying to meet Patrick's eyes. "Are you okay?"

"What do you mean, you don't know what that..." He trailed off and shook his head, then looked back at her. The motion was too quick, and he needed a moment for his vision to focus back on his sister. When it did, she was closer, looking at him with concern. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. Just because I'm not talking to you doesn't mean I'm not okay."

Though only for a second, Koda caught a glimpse of Patrick's eyes when the light caught them; his pupils were wide and she saw him take a second to focus. "No, I know that. I didn't mean it like that. I meant, like, are you high right now?" She raised an eyebrow, sounding slightly amused.

Patrick's mouth twisted into a frown and he looked away again. Her amusement simultaneously quieted some of his anger but annoyed him in a new way. "I'm usually high," he mumbled, then he sighed. Once again, that wasn't what he wanted to say. "It doesn't matter," Patrick tried again, snapping the tackle box shut. It was only then, when paint smeared across the front of the box, that he noticed how filthy his hands had become. "Fuck."

"Oh yikes, you've got a little- a lot." Seeing the paint on his hands at the same time Patrick did, Koda decided against commenting further on his previous statement and instead held out a hand. "If you come back to my place, you can get cleaned up. I can carry your canvas too. I'm paint-free, see?" She shrugged but hoped he would accept her olive branch, not wanting to see him try to juggle his easel, box, and canvas all at one, while covered in paint. "I have a drying rack too."

Patrick didn't take Koda's hand or even acknowledge anything that she said. Instead he stood, picking up the box as he did. He was definitely coming down, now, and his mood was going with it. "I don't—" He cut himself off, sighed, and looked away again. "I'll come pick it up tomorrow," he told her.

"You can come pick it up tomorrow, and you can also come with me now and get all that paint off your hands before you get it on everything else." Koda gave Patrick a long look before she gingerly picked up his painting by one of the wooden parts of the frame, extra careful not to bump the canvas or cause any harm to her brother's work. "Come on," she tilted her head in the direction the townhouse was in. "It's only a few blocks away. I can carry your easel too, if you don't want to get paint on it either."

Patrick scowled at Koda and shook his head, petulant. "No," he said as she picked up his canvas, staying stubbornly in his spot on the sidewalk. "You don't get to—" His hand tightening into a fist; paint squeezed in between his fingers and got under his nails. "Don't baby me, Ko."

Koda inhaled through her nose as her brother refused to budge. "I'm not babying you, Pat. I'm trying to be helpful. Look at your hands. They're covered in paint. There's some on your shirt too, look." She tilted her head again, smiling slightly when she looked up from the paint Patrick was wearing. "Is accepting my help really the worst thing? Come on, I'll make hot chocolate or something."

He managed to swallow the urge to yell, but Patrick couldn't hold back snapping at Koda once again. Her kindness was grating. "You're not doing this over paint," he sneered at her.

She felt her face getting hot when Patrick goaded her, hating that he had read her so well. Stubbornly, Koda stared him down. "Fine, yeah, it's not just about paint. But I am trying to help, so if you need me to carry your painting, I will". She exhaled through her nose. "You're pushing me away...again. The last time I asked why you do that, you said that you couldn't push away what wasn't close to you in the first place. Well, I'm trying, Pat. I want to know you better, be close to you. I want to do that painting with you, still. But you ghosted me after- you ghosted me," she repeated, unsure if she really wanted to get into it at this hour, her energy slowly winding down now that the mood had soured.

"After what, Koda?" Patrick asked, leaning closer to her. "I ghosted you after what? Go ahead." He waited a second for her to answer, then kept talking. "And don't act like you don't know. I know you know, I know you and Chase talk about everything, I know you agree with him because you always do, and I know who you're friends with. I don't want to talk to you because I can see it in your face that you're thinking about. This is what I meant by the same old shit. If I'm your problem of a brother it doesn't matter if you try. I don't want you to try."

"After you got into a fight with Tai and you lied about it! To Chase, who cares about you and was there to make sure you were alright after your concussion! And yeah, Chase and I talk about everything and I do agree with him in this instance, but I'm fully capable of forming my own opinions, whether I agree with Chase or not!" Koda pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated. "You're not my 'problem' of a brother," she bracketed the word problem with air quotes. "You're my brother and I care about you. I was worried about you after the fight, Pat. I called you and texted you, offering to check on you, to keep you company. But you know that, because you got all my messages, you just decided they weren't worth answering."

Every word she said made him more and more upset. Patrick tried to interrupt several times, but she kept going, and he kept getting angrier. As soon as she finished talking, Patrick decided he was done. Suddenly it didn't matter that he came out here expressly to finish the painting that had been on his mind for weeks. Suddenly he didn't care that he'd spent so much material and effort on it, or that it was finally almost finished. He wanted to leave, exit this conversation, and he wanted to stop Koda from having something to keep him in place. Patrick reached forward instead of answering and pressed his palm flat against the canvas. He dragged his hand down, smearing the image into unrecognizable ruin. "There," he snarled, stepping to her side so he could snatch up his easel. "Now you don't have to worry. You can throw that out in the next trash you see. Or just drop it here, I don't care."

Koda realized what he was doing a moment too late to stop it and her eyes flashed with horror. She stared at Patrick with her mouth agape, her eyes travelling to the muddy mess of oil paint on his hand. She couldn't bring herself to look at the now-ruined canvas so instead she looked at his face, her expression a mix of sadness and disappointment. "Gods, Patrick, I don't even want to think about how much time and materials you just threw away. How childish can you be? What was it - you didn't want to stand here anymore? You didn't want to talk to me that badly? You- you could have just walked away like a normal person, you didn't have to ruin your work!" Koda's voice broke and she leveled another glare at her brother, still clutching his canvas in her hand. When she spoke, she sounded completely exhausted, but she kept her eyes on Patrick, waiting for his reaction. "I'm going home. I, I really can't believe you just wrecked your painting like that. And don't you even try to tell me it's my fault, Patrick. Please just, don't."

Despite his desire to leave, Patrick paused after just few steps. He stood there, letting Koda yell at the back of his head while a burning sensation spread across his chest. Already he was starting to regret what he just did, but his pride got in the way of admitting it, of turning around to face his sister. He took a few deep breaths but it did nothing to quiet the anger swarming in his chest. Still, he didn't say anything back. His grip on the easel tightened but otherwise he didn't show any sign of reacting to any of the words she threw toward him. Once she was done talking, he sighed, looked up at the sky, then continued to walk away. He kept going, refusing to look back, and quickly left his sister in the darkness, illuminated only by the streetlight above.

[heechulhamster]

The Truth You Can’t Hide III - Junmyeon

KIM JUNMYEON (SUHO) x Fem Reader

Chapter 3 [The Truth You Can’t Hide MASTERLIST]

1 - 2 - 3 -  4 - 5 - 6 - 7 ongoing

You did it so well for six years. You’ve hid your son from the biggest threat of his life. But one mishap led to the biggest secret in your life being face to face with the man you’ve kept him away from all these years - his father.

Mafia!AU, Angst.

Do you like the new Moodboard better than the old one? Let me know! 

A lawn full of daisies and well-trimmed hedges now welcomed your mornings when you wake up. Ornamented step stones paved the way to a wooden gazebo where you could already hear youthful fun-filled giggles that emanate from the area. The sound had two distinct voices that registered in your ears, one that was surely Junmyeon and the other that’s Jaejin’s.

It’s been three weeks since you started living in Junmyeon’s home. Three long weeks that you spent around his presence that sparked guilt in your guts. Seeing the love-filled connection and comfort that he and Jaejin naturally had. You’re sure that your son spent most of his hours in the said timespan with Junmyeon, fairly considering that you still had to go to work and he takes an inexcusable amount of leave from work only a CEO could have.

In those days you’ve learned that Junmyeon now spends most of his time alone. That his father died 5 years ago, and Mrs. Kim chose to spend the last of her days in her hometown before passing just a year ago. And given the facts and that he’s already in his early 30s, you just wonder why and how he’s not married yet. A man like Junmyeon - well off, articulate, and thoughtful would have any girl swooning off their feet. But maybe it was a choice on his part, living a double life isn’t an easy thing to pull off.

You were stopped on your tracks when you saw the pair of father and son in the gazebo. Both wearing their trademark cheeky smiles that made them lose their eyes. Their happiness warmed your heart and fueled your guilt. Jaejin could’ve experienced this happiness with his real father if only you had it in you to stay. Junmyeon could’ve fulfilled his aspirations to be a good father if you disregarded it. But then again, those were things that you couldn’t change, and an action that you had a compelling reason for doing.

“Hyung has really been happy these past few days. He suits being a father very well.” A sudden voice spoke beside you. Turning to its direction you saw Sehun, dressed in his standard office blazer and white dress shirt. You used to know him as Junmyeon’s highly sarcastic younger cousin but know he apparently works in the company as its head of operations.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that too.” You answered as you stayed admiring the two in the Gazebo. They’re playing that game where one closes their eyes and guesses the finger the other touches them with. Jaejin looks innocently cute but if you’re to be honest Junmyeon looks stupid, but cute.

“He has never made a girl stay long enough all those years. I’m just glad you guys are back together.” Sehun muttered.

“We’re not back together, Sehun. I’m just staying here for Jaejin.” You explained in a stern tone.

“Oh trust me, you guys will get there. Living under the same roof, with a kid, all that’s left is to slap a marriage certificate of you two and we’re done.” He laughed.

“Not going to happen.”

“Oh dear.” You looked at him when he suddenly sighed loudly. “This is about the other business isn’t it?” He asked, to which you didn’t respond. You’re still having a hard time living with the fact that Junmyeon is affiliated with something so vile. It’s as if you just avoid thinking about it and act that it’s not true. Everytime you see a reminder of his wealth, you try and be counterintuitive and just think that it’s from his company, well the legal one that is.

“You know, we both grew up with it but we both turned out good. Atleast Junmyeon-hyung, and you know that.” There was sincerity in his eyes and you could only ponder on his words. Sure, Junmyeon is indeed a good man. But if he supports and owns something as big as this, is he really?

“Can you give this to him? I need to get going. Bye.” He quickly gave you a number of folders after you nodded, turning his back to you even before you could say anything.

And you already learned your lesson on opening Junmyeon’s folders.

With Sehun’s favor at hand, you walked towards the gazebo. Both busy heads turned to you and you just smiled at your son, who then stood up from his seat and ran into you. “Good morning mama!” He cheerfully greeted as he hugged you stomach level.

“Good morning little boy. Now what are you doing here? I could hear your giggles from miles away.” You asked as you caressed his hair softly.

“We were just playing a game.” He explained, before you sat on the chair opposite to them. You laid down the files on the table and mouthed to Junmyeon that it was from Sehun, to which he only nodded.

“You know, Mama. The one Uncle Jinki and I play?” Jaejin sat beside Junmyeon, and it almost felt like you were looking at a before and after picture of the same person. Sometimes you wonder if Jaejin even inherited anything from your genes.

“Yes, I remember that. It’s your favorite.”

“Mama, I miss Uncle Jinki. He never visited me again, did he forget about me?” Jaejin asked with a frown. Now, the problem about kids is the same thing that makes them adorable - their innocence. Jaejin is smart but not yet enough to understand that exes aren’t supposed to see their ex’s child.

“No he did not, baby. Uncle Jinki is just very busy, and LA is very far away from here.” You explained as you caressed his cheek across the table. You quickly took a glance to Junmyeon, only to see his curiosity and questioning eyes aimed at you.

“Now who’s this Uncle Jinki that you’re looking for when Uncle Junmyeon is here?” Jun said as he faked a pout and crossed his arms on his chest.

“He was like my father, but Mama says that he is not. I thought he was.” Jaejin pouted while he said his words that made your heart sink. At first, he was really sad when he discovered that Jinki was not his actual father. But now, put in another context, his father is sitting right beside him - one that he asked you for years on end, but he doesn’t know it.

And the way you felt just grew worse when you looked at Junmyeon, how his eyes spoke of sadness. You knew he yearned then and there to tell that he is there, his father. But the two of you had an agreement that you’d be the one to break it to Jaejin, and you’ll be the one to decide when it’s time.

“Jaejin-ah, Uncle Jun is here for you now okay?” You said with a smile, again caressing his cheek. You looked at Junmyeon who shot a closed lipped thankful smile to you.

The guilt in your guts kept you awake at night. You knew very well why you’re guilty, for your decision seven years ago heavily affected two people now. First, it was hard for Jaejin to grow up not knowing his real father. Yes, Jinki was there, but you couldn’t bear to make him carry the responsibility of being the father of the child that isn’t his. And you can’t make you child believe a lie just for his temporary comfort only to be left devastated once he knows the truth.

And now, you’re guilty about what you did to Junmyeon. Because you knew very well that he could’ve been a great father if he had just known. That you three could’ve been a family if you had just stayed. Junmyeon would be responsible, even if he was just 23 at that time, you knew that he would to anything and everything for the two of you.

But all of those “would be”s and “what ifs” are just a whisper in the wind. A thought that would keep you tossing and turning at night. Because no amount of guilt, remorse, nor regret would bring back the times and right what is wrong. You just try and come back to your reason that you still believe is justifiable and correct. You couldn’t feed your child with the money that came from something that leads to the demise of other people. You wouldn’t be able to look Junmyeon in the eye and tell him you love him when you know that he’s an accessory and an enabler to a crime that serves as a gateway to multitudes of other ones. You couldn’t sleep on a bed funded by an act that ruin others lives.

The next morning, you were up unexpectedly early even for a workday. There was something about your sleep that just didn’t let it be sound enough. You and Jaejin sleep in the guest room, one that’s on the other side of the mansion from Junmyeon’s suite. You could only think about how quiet this place could be before you and Jaejin occupied some of the space it could offer. How it was only filled by one man and a few of his helpers and butlers. Sehun told you that he often comes by, for he cares about his hyung’s wellbeing but the young man also has his own life.

You were silently staring blankly out the window, admiring the hedges of the courtyard when an unfamiliar feminine voice rang from behind you. “Hi, do you live here?”

Turning to your back, you were surprised when you saw a young petite woman looking like she had a rough night. Her hair loosely in curls that suggested that she just woke up, her lips look overused and scathed, and the oversized dress shirt that she wore that was clearly not hers was crumpled in all places. The badly buttoned clothing also showed how much her chest and neck was ridden with hickeys and markings, but you tried hard not to stare.

“Yeah.” You answered, your eyes still wide at the sight.

“Could you tell Jun that I took his shirt with him because my dress last night…. Is now useless and this is all I found? So uhm, yeah, thank you, bye!” She quickly dashed out of the front doors before you could even answer, embarrassment evident in her face. And you just knew that she is new to this game. She’s young, probably in her early 20s, hence the disgrace in her face.

You tried not to be fazed nor bothered by the random encounter that just happened. You already wondered why Junmyeon hasn’t settled down yet, maybe this is his kind of game now. A lot can change in a span of seven years. Hell, you now even have a child that walks and talks. But you wonder if that girl knew that you’re the mother of Junmyeon’s child, or the fact that he even had one.

Heading to the kitchen, you started to prepare a breakfast. You usually didn’t need to do so as the people who serve for Junmyeon already has already set up an array of food choices by the table at the drop of morning. But it’s only a quarter to six in the morning, and you kind of miss not having to be served everything and doing things by yourself.

So you whipped out the pans and started making Jaejin’s favorite pancakes. Carefully and lovingly mixing all ingredients in a bowl before precisely measuring the batter onto a pan. Eventually chopping berries to top it all off. One thing you’re glad of staying at Junmyeon’s house is how filled it is with everything. If there’s one thing adulthood made you realize is that money is hard to earn, especially for a young single mom in the city. You can’t help but thank your parents that they made your young life more than adequate to be called a good life.

You were already cleaning up after your mess when you head the fridge open behind you. “You’re up early.” Junmyeon announced as he grabbed filled a glass of water.

“I was barely able to sleep.” You said, turning the last piece of cutlery you needed to clean before you faced him. He’s already dressed in his standard white dress shirt tucked in black slacks, both articles of clothing looking very crisp and every thread luxurious. He groaned silently as he put down the glass on the countertop.

The thing with you living in Junmyeon’s presence is a case undisclosed. It almost seems that you’re indifferent towards each other. Not exchanging that much words except for the common courtesy and small smiles you share when both of you are around Jaejin. You two fill the shoes of being parents, or uncle for Junmyeon’s case, very well. Yet the connection between the two of you is barely defined nor do you have any idea about it. Because how do you interact with your ex who you’ve hidden your child for seven years from?

“Rough night?” You jokingly opened the topic, remembering the favor that was not so politely asked of you earlier.

A light agreement escaped from his mouth, so you proceeded with what you are saying. “She asked me to tell you that she took your shirt. You apparently ripped her dress last night so bad that she can’t use it.” You said as if it was nothing as you returned the kitchen tools to their rightful places.

When you look back at him, he was staring at you with a bewildered emotion all over his face. “You saw her?”

“I kind of ran into her earlier as she was leaving.” With two plates overflowing with pancakes topped with berries and drizzled with honey on your hands, you sat it down on the kitchen island. “I have to give it to you, she’s really pretty. What’s her name?”

Junmyeon looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes, the thing he always does when he’s trying to remember something. “Ah… I actually don’t recall. I’m pretty sure it starts with a T. The rest I’m not sure of.”

“Wow, so that’s your game now? At this age, Jun?” You chuckled a little. “You really got into Minseok’s college habit very late.”

“It’s not like I do it every time. I was just really stressed with work. Whatever shit Sehun handed you yesterday was no good news.” He gulped another from the glass filled with cold water. “I’m sorry you had to experience such an awkward encounter.”

“No, it’s not really a big deal. I’m just thankful that Jaejin didn’t see her. I’m going to have a hard time explaining why she had jellyfish stings on her neck.” And you both let off a small acknowledging laugh. And as small as it is, you felt as if it broke the ice that froze whatever conversation can be held between the two of you.

After a short silence as you sat on the kitchen stool with your tea and him concocting a cup of morning coffee, Junmyeon finally spoke again. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You were only able to respond by looking at him in the eyes before he spoke again. “I’m sorry for forcing you into staying here. I know it was selfish of me to act as if I have control over you and Jaejin. It’s just that…” He trailed off before sighing. “I don’t know, I feel like now that I know I have him I just can't let him go out of my sight.”

“This thing that I do, it kind of messes with your brain. Some would think we’re all high and mighty with all this wealth. But once you’re put in this place, exposed to this world, you’re just more vulnerable to all the things that could go wrong. And I, I just want to make sure Jaejin is safe.” Junmyeon continued as he held the coffee mug strongly in his hands that you see the liquid start to shake.

“It’s fine, Jun. Besides, I’m not the one who decided to stay here.” You responded assuringly, trying to coax him out of his current mindspace. “It was Jaejin’s call. You know, he’s the boss.”

You remembered the day the both of you were having a heated argument in the study. “If you want to leave, I’ll make sure this is the last time you’ll ever land your eyes on him.”

“What? Now that you’re aware that I know, you’re afraid that I’ll rat you out to the police? I could’ve done that years ago, Junmyeon. I just want to live peacefully with my son. To separate me from him you need to put a bullet through my head.” You responded, pretending to have the power in your guts to threaten the man in front of you when you’re shaking internally.

You saw him curl his fists into a ball, his eyes intently focused on yours as he’s breathing slowly.

“What? You’d really do it, won’t you? You’d really kill me, Junmyeon?” You scoffed.

“That’s not the point here. Your son, is my son. You know what world I belong to, Y/N. And if Jaejin stays here, it’s only then I’ll be able to sleep soundly without worrying about his safety. He’s safe here, you’re safe here.” He declared calmly, far from his anguish filled voice just earlier.

“No one else even knows that he’s your son, Junmyeon. How is he in danger?” You reasoned out.

“Right now, no one knows. But you’ve decided to come back here, and you’ve made Jaejin’s world smaller. First he found me, how long do you think it would take for everyone to make the connection on why you, my ex, has a son that looks exactly like me?” Junmyeon stepped closer to you, “You’ve hidden him from me long enough, Y/N. Let me be a father to my son.”

It’s unbelievable to anyone, even to yourself, that you still stayed over for dinner after that episode with Junmyeon. Probably because of his influence over Jaejin, or possibly even over you. You just knew it was useless to try and resist Junmyeon, he has always been indomitable in his decisions.

“Jaejin-ah, Mama has a question for you.” You asked as you sat down on the guest room’s bed. It surprised you to see how neatly Jaejin’s things were transferred here. Jaejin stood up from playing with the toys on hand and sat beside you.

“Uncle Junmyeon has offered for us to stay here. Not just tonight, but for a while. Do you want to stay here?” You asked as you tenderly brushed off his soft dark hair.

“Is it okay with you, Mama?” He sweetly responded.

“Mama is okay anywhere you want to stay. That’s why I’m asking you if you want to stay here, baby.”

“Yes Mama! Of course I do.” Jaejin answered gleefully. “I like Uncle Junmyeon, he’s a lot like Uncle Jinki. He plays with me, jokes with me, but he’s better because his house has a fountain. Mama does it mean I get to stay on this house with the fountain and the large TV?” Jaejin asked, his youthfulness showing in his tone and excitement over the material things.

But what  resounded to you the most was how he said that he liked Junmyeon and that he reminded him of Jinki. How long has Jaejin even here that Junmyeon has already been able to make your child enamoured?

“Okay Jaejin, we’ll stay here. Here with the fountain, the TV and Uncle Junmyeon.” You said with a small smile, before kissing the top of his head. Only if he knew that the ‘uncle’ that he grew very fond of is his real father.

“Going to work today?” You asked as you sat in front of Junmyeon, who is now eating the other plate of pancakes that you offered him in attempt to waver off his headache.

“Yeah.”

“Which one?” It came out of your mouth sounding serious.

“My work, CEO of Kim Shipping Lines. That’s my job.” He said in a defensive tone. “Just need to fix this problem at the ports which caused a lot of delays. You going to work, too?” A question which you only nodded in response as you already dread the thought of having to work a 9-5 job.

“You could come back to the company, there’s always going to be a slot for you. Maybe I’ll kick off Sehun for slacking off.” Junmyeon joked lightly and he earned a laugh from you. “Can we be okay?” He suddenly blurts out amidst your laughter.

“We’re okay, Jun. Stop acting as if I have a knife pointed at your neck.” You joked as your laughter only started to die down.

“No, I mean can we be civil? Or even friends? For Jaejin.” Junmyeon asks again as he rests his back against the chair. “Can we put this animosity between us aside, if there is, and try to make this parenting thing work for Jaejin?”

“Of course, Jun, we can be friends. I don’t know why you’re asking that, we literally have a child. I think we’re already way past that.” And it was his turn to laugh.

And honestly, you’re not only doing this for Jaejin but also for yourself. It’s hard to pursue greater heights in life when you carry grudges in your heart. Maybe this is what you actually need to finally be able to sleep well at night.

Silence enveloped you, only the sound of the keyboard was audible as you sat on the luxurious white leather seats in the living room. It’s already the wee hours of the night and you need to bring your work at home as you’ve been set a close deadline. Not wanting to disturb Jaejin’s sound sleep in the guest room, you vacated downstairs.

As you quietly balanced the liabilities and taxes of the company you are currently working for, you heard the rustling of a car being parked outside. It dawned on you that Junmyeon hasn’t come home yet, you thought otherwise and that he was just staying in his room. The sculpted oakwood front door opened and you were shocked when the figure just entered registered on your eyes.

It’s Junmyeon, looking all trashed and tired with a huge cut on his eyebrow and a busted lip. You’re sure that it is also a bruise that you see on his left cheekbone, ruining his usual neat look and ridding his face with blood. Junmyeon’s left hand also clasped his right, and you’re certain that he’s only seeing off one eye as his left squinted on his current injuries.

In alarm, you stood up, setting aside the laptop and papers that once occupied your attention and called Junmyeon. “What in the world happened to your face?” You walked towards him as he leaned on the door.

“Why are you still awake? I thought -” He spoke which you were quick to shush. He looked more in pain as he spoke, so you wanted to minimize the torture.

“Speak later, we need to clean those shit on your face.”

You pulled him into the kitchen, not forgetting to grab the medical supplies that are in one of the bathrooms. Sitting by the kitchen island where you once talked over breakfast. With a cotton ball doused with antiseptic at hand, you started to clean off his wounds.

“This is such a late age to realize that you want a boxing career, Jun. What the fuck happened?” You almost screamed at him.

He shook his head, “I can’t believe you’re still like that. You still show your concern by being angry at other people?”

“Answer my question or you’ll clean your own wounds.” He winced a little when your hand went a little heavy on his eyelids.

He sighed, “Remember when I told you last week that there has been problems in the ports and shipping schedules?” You nodded.

“Of course that still had to do with the other line of work. This cargo ship from Mexico was supposed to be here three weeks ago, it had delays due to weather, docking space, you know the deal.” You agreed, understanding the situation for you used to work under Junmyeon’s company before.

“So Sehun forgot to inform me that there’s special deliveries in that cargo, so I wasn’t able to deal with it earlier. The ship just arrived tonight. And apparently there’s a very high profile son of a politician that ordered an unbelievable amount of ecstasy for his party. Safe to say his party didn’t turn out well without the shit that’s still sailing on a cargo in the Pacific ocean. He told me he was very humiliated to people and lashed out on me.”

“God, Junmyeon, I thought you big players had an army to fight for you.” You exhaled as you lightly dabbed ointment on his cut.

“Well I’d usually bring some. If only my son of a bitch cousin told me that there was in fact a problem.” He shook his head again, “He literally just made me go there without knowing that some entitled whiny crass was crying over his milk.”

“What about this?” You asked, pointing to his swollen knuckles.

“You think I’m just going to let a spoiled brat punch me?” He said with a smirk as if brawling is something to be proud of.

“I’m lucky it’s only this, there’s more far worse. I could’ve ended a corpse tonight.” He explained further, which only made your nerves boil and discomfort bloom in your mind even more.

Your hands slowly sank and landed on the table and you just stared on the now red cotton ball that you held by tweezers.

“You think this us something to laugh about for me, Junmyeon?” You raised your voice. “You think I could laugh at your stupid face right now knowing that in years it could be Jaejin that goes home one night looking like this? That he could be killed in cold blood just because some narcissistic scamp didn’t get what he wants?! This is the exact thing that keeps me awake at night, Jun!” Your eyes started to water from the thought.

Junmyeon grabbed your hands that started shaking. “Jaejin won’t… Jaejin won’t be involved in this mess.”

“Really, Jun? Does he even have a choice? Did you even have a choice? This is not something you could just get away from, Jun. This is something you’re born into. And the moment I had Jaejin it’s as if he’s already in line to inherit this mess. I don’t know if I’ll ever sit well with that fact!” You tried to move away your wrists from his clasp yet his hold was strong.

Because you know very well this kind of activity isn’t something you could just turn away from. It’s critical in itself to be involved in this kind of industry, but it’s even more dangerous to try and just stop. The people that benefit from this business would never hesitate to silence you permanently. Because now that they don’t benefit from you, you’re nothing but a threat.

“It already happened to me, and I’m not going to let it happen to Jaejin, okay? Just trust me on this.” Junmyeon tightened his hand on yours.

You just silently continued cleaning and covering his wounds. What would Jaejin even think if he sees Junmyeon like this? How is he going to explain suddenly having a cut on his eyebrows? That he fought a cat? Jaejin is far smarter to believe that.

And Junmyeon just sat there, silently waiting for you to finish the favor that you’re doing for him. He knew better than to talk to you when you’re mad. He knew that the anger will soon subside, he just need to let the tidal waves pass and it will calm down again.

You’ve already grabbed an ice pack from the freezer when he spoke again, “Who’s Uncle Jinki?”

“Jinki? He’s my ex.” You simply answered, lack of any explanation.

“Oh.”

You felt as if he was unsatisfied with the answer, so you obliged to give him a bit more context. “He was there since Jaejin was two years old. He was this charming banker I met while closing a deal on my old job. I almost believed that nobody would love a 24 year old with a son again, but he came. . He accepted not just me but also Jaejin. He was there to fill the gaps that I left on being a parent, he supported me. I honestly couldn’t have done it alone.”

Junmyeon just intently listened to you, so you continued on your reminiscing of Jinki.

“He was really a big help, especially for Jaejin. It’s hard to raise a boy as a single mom so I’m just glad he was there.” You already felt the sadness in his eyes. “And the children of Jaejin’s age can be cruel too when they know that a kid doesn’t have a father, he was strong enough to own up to the role. Luckily he’s Korean too, so it wasn’t much of a problem making Jaejin’s friends he was his.”

“So what happened?”

“Three years into the relationship, he wanted to settle down. Of course I agreed, we loved each other after all. But then it got complicated when he wanted me to stay at home and stop working. That’s not something I can do. I can’t just stay at home and let him work for the both of us knowing that Jaejin isn’t his responsibility.”

“And you’re pretty workaholic. I feel that you’d die if anyone takes your work away from you.” He jokingly interrupted which you just responded with a small chuckle.

“And I didn’t agree on getting Jaejin named after him.” You continued, and Junmyeon just looked at you.

“Why?”

“That was the least I can do for you.” You answered. “But Jinki still visited Jaejin after we broke up, they really had a strong relationship. It’s just that it didn’t work for us two. He just had to lessen seeing Jin once he dated again, which I could understand.”

You earned a sigh from Junmyeon in front of you, “I don’t know if I’m jealous or thankful for Jinki. I mean, I’m glad he made it less harder for you. I’m happy that Jaejin wasn’t bullied and that he had a father figure to look up to. It’s just that, it could’ve been me. That should’ve been me. No one needs to pretend to be my son’s father because I’m alive. That should’ve been the things that I was able to do.” He sadly noted.

“You have now, Jun.” You answered to him as you looked sincerely in his eyes. “It’s now the time when you could make it up for those years. You just need to do it right.”

[prettywordsyouleft]

Getaway

Summary: when Daehyun springs an island getaway on you, you’re too busy having fun making memories with him to realise there is an ulterior motive to why he took you away on a holiday right now.

Pairing: Jung Daehyun x reader

Genre: fluff / a little bit of angst?

A/N: so I find it really beneficial heal through the written word. This is another one of those moments. Some of the facts shared in this story are from my own personal life, though I know I’m not the only one to suffer from loss and grief. Mine just unfortunately falls on Daehyun’s birthday so here we are addressing some of it! I hope you appreciate this storyline even with the personal addition to it, and enjoy celebrating Daehyun’s birthday with me! I love this man more than anything else in this world.

Word count: 1889

You stirred when you felt soft kisses upon your neck, your eyelids still heavy against the world, yet you rolled your head over on the pillow so he could have more access.

Daehyun chuckled, the vibration of the gesture against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. Must he sound so delicious first thing in the morning?

His lips painstakingly moved up to your ear before he said, “You have two hours to pack.”

Wait, what?

Sitting up with a start as your boyfriend moved away, you blearily stared at him now placing clothes into his luggage trunk. “Where are we going?”

Daehyun pointed to his empty spot beside you and you turned to see a brochure for an island getaway there instead. Blinking, you leafed through it slowly and then glanced back at Daehyun. “You're kidding?!”

“Do you think I would go to the extremes of packing my own luggage just to trick you?” he asked with a hearty laugh and you gave him a look that only made the joyous sound increase. Pausing his current packing task, Daehyun climbed back onto the bed, reaching for your body and pulling you into his embrace. “I booked everything whilst you were asleep and let your editor know I was stealing you for a week. Everything is ready except you so you need to get up and start moving. We need to be at the airport in just under three hours, and now you have one hour and fifty minutes to pack.”

“We’re really going there?” you questioned in disbelief and Daehyun nodded. “What’s the special occasion?”

“Can’t I escape this dreary wintry weather with you without having a reason?”

You grinned, dashing over to the wardrobe to start sorting out what to take. You didn’t have a second to waste.

It didn’t seem real to wake up with an endless view of the vast blue outside of your beachfront villa but as you stirred from your slumber, you were compelled to pull yourself out of the plush bedding and pad over to the large balcony. Sliding the door open, you stepped outside, amazed by the sight before you. You didn’t know how the locals of this island could start their day without getting lost in the natural beauty all around first. You were certain you could spend all day gazing at this view and not grow bored of it.

Smiling when you felt arms slide around you from behind, you leaned back into Daehyun’s chest as he nuzzled into you. He let out a little huff. “Why did you leave me?”

“I saw the sea. It was already magical last night when the clerk led us over here but waking up and seeing it in daylight bewitched me.”

“Mmm,” he mumbled into you, kissing your shoulder gently. His grip tightened around you and you playfully slapped his arm with how he was choosing to remove the remnants of his slumber. “Maybe the view bewitched me too. You looked like a goddess standing over here just now.”

“I hope you don’t plan on spending the majority of this holiday exploring my body in this bedroom, Daehyun,” you stated disapprovingly, sighing all the same when his lips moved over a sensitive patch of skin. Your head naturally rolled back onto his shoulder with his touch and you cursed yourself for easily falling into the realm of desire he had opened up.

“Of course not,” he replied matter-of-fact, littering kisses in between his words. “But I definitely need to explore you before we head out onto the island today.”

After your sensual start to the day, you went out to see the sights the island bolstered. You walked, you swam, you hiked and you canoed. There was so much to see and do that the next four days were full of activities during the day, grand dinners at night with social festivities and dancing finishing off the hours of the night. You slept exceptionally well, fully rested to rise for another day of adventure with Daehyun.

It wasn’t until you took a quiet day off from travelling around the island exploring that you realised what the date was.

Today was Daehyun’s birthday.

How could you have possibly forgotten your partner’s birthday? You had been with him for years now, and his birthday was hardly a day you could ever forget. It hadn’t been the easiest finding out that the day Daehyun would celebrate each year was one you had learned to mourn over the year before you met him. It was always a troubling time for you yet you never wanted to let Daehyun feel underappreciated either. It wasn’t his fault your father had died on his birthday, and so each year you went overboard to make the day special at least for him.

So how did you forget it this time?

You had been swamped with work, but you recalled starting your birthday planning the day before Daehyun had whisked you away on this getaway. It meant you hadn’t yet picked up all of his special surprises, though you did have his present safely hidden in your at-home office. All the same, not a single day since you had been here had you thought of his birthday, and guilt immediately washed over you for having such a great time being spoiled by him and not linking this special trip as a birthday getaway instead.

As the morning progressed, you retreated further into your mind, worrying over how to make today special enough with the little amount of time you had to prepare something within. You could make something happen for dinner, but it wouldn’t as spectacular had you realised the date yesterday instead. You cursed agreeing to being device-free whilst here and for not even looking on your camera at the date either.

Daehyun picked up on your frantic internalising and after breakfast, he suggested a walk along the beach, allowing you to ruminate for only a few minutes longer before he let out a heavy sigh. “What’s bothering you today?”

“I’m fine,” you lied and you knew he didn’t buy it whatsoever. You grimaced. “You noticed, huh?”

“How could I not? You haven’t been laughing nearly as much as you have every other day this week. I was hoping to hear you laugh the most today, actually.”

You nodded slowly, trying to squash down your ever-present remorse. “Did you plan this trip for your birthday?”

“No, I planned this all for you.”

“For me?” you repeated, confused by his statement. “But Dae-”

“Do you think I don’t see how difficult this time of year is for you every year? I know you try not to let on that my birthday is hard for you, and you really go all out to spoil me. I appreciate your efforts more than anything, you know?”

You couldn’t answer, the lump forming in your throat blocking your ability to speak. You attempted to smile though and Daehyun stopped walking, pulling you towards him so he could wipe away the first tear that tumbled from your eyes. He blinked back his own emotions, pressing on with a wide smile instead. “Every year though, you hide this side to you. When you think I don’t see it, I find you hiding away sobbing alone. As if you don’t feel it’s okay to be sad today too. It really is okay to be.”

“No, I don’t want to be sad on your birthday.”

“But it’s not just my birthday, is it?” he replied and you sniffled, nodding slowly. You still couldn’t understand how you had gotten so lucky to meet someone with such a beautiful and caring soul like Daehyun, but you always believed that your father had sent him to you now that he was gone. To protect and cherish you in his stead.

Daehyun was the most selfless person you knew.

“I wanted us to have fun this year. Away from the usual schedule, leaving the forced smiles and brooding hours behind us. You needed the fresh salty air, the wind in your hair and my hand in yours to remind you that every day is precious and magical. You are the most genuine and relaxed you’ve ever been around this time of year on this holiday. I don’t regret choosing to do this, even if it meant you forgot what today is.”

“You are too much, you know that?” you told him, resting against him and wrapping your arms around his waist securely. You hoped your embrace would show Daehyun just how grateful you were to have him in your life.

You knew he was close to crying now; the way he was breathing was a tell-tale sign. He managed to talk through it still. “I wanted to remove your burdens this year. That was what I wanted for my birthday. And I succeeded. But now that you’re like this, just remember today you can cry in front of me. I’ll catch all your tears. And I promise I’ll try to make you smile just as much as you have all week long. Besides, your Dad would want to see that smile today the most, wouldn’t he?”

You gripped onto his shirt, allowing the first wave of your emotions to crash upon him, Daehyun holding onto you, the anchor within your storm. He was right; it really was freeing to allow yourself to be this emotional in front of him today. When your tears stopped falling, you stared up at Daehyun, a watery smile crossing your lips. “Happy Birthday, Daehyun. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he replied, kissing your lips gently before grinning. “I have to admit, I’m pretty impressed with how I handled this. I did well huh?”

You giggled. “Very well. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“Lucky enough to marry me someday?” he wondered and you froze, unblinking in your gaze up at him. Daehyun’s smile faltered as he noticed your stuck expression.

“Wait, I-”

“Are you proposing right now? Because if so, the answer is yes.”

“Well, I was… well, uh… shoot.” Daehyun rubbed a hand through his hair at your sudden reply and let out an awkward laugh. “I wasn’t exactly proposing, Y/N. I don’t even have a ring.”

“I don’t care about a ring, I have you.”

Daehyun stared at you intently. “You’ll marry me?”

“Of course I would, there’s no one else better for me. I mean, who else plans something for their partner on their own birthday? Of course, I want to marry you.”

“Really?”

“Really!”

Daehyun slowly grinned, a shocked, elated laugh leaving him. “I wasn’t expecting that you would be my birthday gift this year but you can’t take it back now. Ring or not, you just agreed to be my fiancé.”

You laughed genuinely and noticed the smile on his lips was the biggest you had seen all holiday long. Daehyun had definitely succeeded with all of this, allowing yourself to embrace all the emotions of this day was better than trying to plan it out and avoid it.

And whilst you would always honour your emotions of the loss of your father, you now had an extra anniversary to celebrate with your fiancé. You were certain you would smile more every single year at Daehyun’s side on this special day.

_________________

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[dragonsaphirareads]

The Selfish Protector - Disney and Deceit (Chapter 1)

Crossposted to AO3

Link to Masterlist

Deceit joins the other sides for Friday movie night for a new game Roman creates, but Virgil and Patton aren't exactly thrilled with his presence.

“I’m so glad you two have come around! This is going to be so much fun, I’ve even devised a new game for us to play so we can get to know Deceit a little more!” Roman was smiling widely as Virgil and Patton told him they’d decided to come to family movie night like normal.

Virgil shrugged, and Patton felt a pang of guilt in his heart. Roman was so happy, happier than Patton had seen him in a while, now that he thought about it. Even now he had a spring in his step, bouncing between the kitchen and the living room, preparing food and drinks and changing around the common room to seat everyone comfortably.

It was for the best, he reassured himself. Roman was just blind with the praise Deceit always laid on him. They would save him before the snake could turn on him like Virgil told him he would.

“Of course! Is there anything I can help with, kiddo?” Patton offered, and Roman shook his head.

“Nope! I’ve got everything under control! You and Virgil can just hang out in the living room while I go get Logan!” The prince practically skipped past them and down the hall towards Logan’s room. Virgil and Patton sat down on the sectional, glancing at each other for a moment to reassure themselves.

“Virgil... this is... good, right?” Patton whispered, his throat tight. Virgil put his hand on top of Patton’s, squeezing it softly.

“You’re not sure?” The anxious side tried to hide his surprise - since when did Patton not know? He was Morality, that was his purpose.

“I mean... I just...what if they get angry at us for this?”

Virgil sighed. That thought had crossed his mind too, and it didn’t make him feel good. “As long as they’re safe, it doesn’t matter, right? It’s that, or they get sucked into whatever game Deceit is playing and we lose them completely.”

Patton nodded slowly. “Right... we won’t let that happen.”

The emotional side didn’t know if he would be able to handle Logan or Roman being angry at him, but Virgil was right - they had to keep them safe from Deceit.

“I’ve got him!” Roman called out as he entered the room, dragging Logan behind him. “Our resident nerd was once again planning on skipping on movie night!”

Logan rolled his eyes, pulling his arm from Roman’s grip. “I was planning no such thing, I simply lost track of the time. I’d appreciate you not implying otherwise.”

“Aww, so you do like spending time with us! I thought you thought Disney movies were annoying and childish?” Roman teased.

“They are overly optimistic and fanciful, not to mention unrealistic. However, they are a suitable way to pass the time if you enjoy not having to think for two hours.” It was both a compliment and an insult, but Roman took it in stride.

“Sure, whatever, you know you love it! Anyways, let’s get comfortable!” Roman waved his hand and his clothes shifted from his normal princely attire to his Christmas sweater and red sweatpants. Logan followed suit as he took a seat on the other side of the sectional, curling up in his sweater and pants and opening the book that he’d taken from his room.

Patton grinned and shifted as well, but instead of the Christmas sweater he shifted into his cat onesie, he had very few chances to wear it anymore and it was just so warm and cuddly!

Virgil on the other hand didn’t change. When Roman came into the room and set the snacks down he pouted, but Virgil shrugged.

“I’m already comfy enough, Princey.”

“But...”

Virgil raised his eyebrows, but Roman didn’t finish the thought, instead rolling his eyes at Logan. “Really, Matilda? Did you take that with you so you could ignore us?”

Logan didn’t look up. “No, I’m only reading until all of us are here. There’s no point in starting any activity you have planned until Deceit arrives.”

“If that’s the case, let’s get the party started.” The four of them looked up at Deceit, who’d entered the room while Roman and Logan were squabbling. The snakelike side took a look at the four of them and smirked slightly. “Looks like I didn’t get the memo about the dress code.” Deceit teased. Roman gasped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I totally forgot to tell you! Ah, if you like, I can design a sweater for you too!”

Deceit’s mouth twitched for a moment into a genuine smile. “Really? You’d do that for me? Well, I suppose I can accept, on one condition.” He purred, and Roman nodded heartily.

“What’s that?”

“You design a sweater, but I get to change the rest. I’m rather creative too, you know~” Deceit winked, and Virgil could feel his chest burning when he heard the flattered giggle that came from Roman. The creative side thought for a moment before flourishing his hand towards Deceit, who snapped at the same time.

The result was a yellow and black sweater divided right down the middle. There were two snakes curled back and forth across the color divide, one black and one yellow. The yellow half was on the left and had black lines indicating scales all down the half of his chest and left arm. The collar, bottom edge and arm cuffs were the opposite color of the main sweater. The way the sweater was cut, it hung lower on his neck than Deceit’s normal outfit, and the others could see how his scales trailed down his neck, disappearing into his collar.

Aside from Roman’s very fitting sweater design, Deceit now wore black sweatpants, thick fuzzy yellow socks, and a yellow beanie with black stitching. He had, however, kept his signature yellow gloves.

Patton couldn’t help but admire the sweater design - Roman had clearly put just as much thought into this one as he had into the others, which either meant he was incredibly good at thinking up designs on the fly, or that when he designed the sweaters, he’d designed them for all of the sides.

Virgil on the other hand was not impressed. “Do you two always have to be so extra?”

Roman spun to spit some retort at him but Deceit stepped forward and patted Roman’s shoulder, grinning. “He’s just jealous that my sweater looks better than his. Incredible work as always, Roman.”

The prince glowed at the praise. “Why thank you! I was hoping you’d like it!”

Deceit nodded, then turned to the side and noticed Logan was watching him with curious eyes. The lying side smirked and put a hand on his hip, striking a natural pose. “Like what you see, Logan?”

“I’m certainly curious about your scales. Do they extend down the entirety of your body?”

Deceit could physically feel the anger coming from the other side of the couch and decided this was too good an opportunity to pass up. He licked his lips and wiggled his eyebrows. “I’d be happy to show you sometime, Logan~” Deceit purred low, and Virgil slammed his hands down hard on the coffee table, rattling everything.

“That’s enough of that! Roman, can we just start now? Deceit’s here now, unfortunately.” Virgil sneered as Deceit snickered at his outburst and sat down in the corner of the sectional. Patton cast a sideways glance at him, watching him with careful consideration as Deceit turned his attention to Roman, standing in front of them all, ready to explain his game.

“Ok! So, I was thinking about it, and I realized that we may all ‘know’ Deceit, but we don’t really ‘know’ him! So I’ve created a brilliant game, Disney themed of course, to help us get to know each other!” Roman waved his hand and conjured five patches, each a side’s logo. He shuffled them around like cards in his hands while he talked.

“I’ll hand out these badges blindly and once you have one, we’ll go around and you have to pick a Disney character that you think represents the person best!”

“What if we pick ourselves?” Patton asked.

“Then you choose someone to compare yourself to! Oh, and this is just Disney! No Pixar, Marvel, Star Wars, nothing like that! We’re staying classic!”

“Sounds fun~” Deceit hummed. Roman beamed.

“We’ll do a couple rounds. Once we finish one, we’ll pass to our right and go again! Now close your eyes and pick a logo!” Roman fanned them out and Logan humored him, closing his eyes and picking blindly. He drew a purple storm cloud which he fiddled with absently as Roman moved on.

Deceit drew a red and gold crest, Patton drew a brain with glasses, and Virgil drew a two headed snake. It left Roman with a heart with glasses, and he grinned.

“Alright, everyone’s got one, who wants to start?”

They were quiet for a moment as everyone thought, and Roman fidgeted as he started to worry that maybe the others wouldn’t play along with this game, wouldn’t enjoy it as much as he thought they would. Was this a bad idea?

Deceit saw the distress building on Roman’s face out of the corner of his eye and opened his mouth to start, but Virgil beat him to it.

“Easy. Deceit is the villain from Princess and the Frog.”

The lying side in question raised an eyebrow. “Dr. Facilier? Wow, Virgil, I’m so surprised you chose a villain to compare me to.”

“You’ve got a stupid hat, weird glowing powers and a look that puts everyone on edge. I think it fits you perfectly.” Virgil snarled, but to his annoyance Deceit just grinned.

“Aww, I’m honored you think so highly of me! However, it does give my suggestion an unwanted connotation. I was going to suggest that you, Roman, were just like Prince Naveen.”

Roman blinked. “Oh yeah?”

“A dashing prince who gets in a little over his head, who falls in love and spends his time trying to woo the person he’s been on the journey with, not to mention willing to sacrifice being with the person he loves to make sure that they’re happy? Oh, and fluent in a love language as well~” Deceit counted off on his fingers as Roman grew more and more red. Hearing Deceit explain his choice made his heart nearly burst from the praise, but he cleared his throat and tried to hide just how good it felt to hear his words.

“You make a compelling argument...”

“Oh, and his singing voice is rather divine as well, we can’t forget that!” Deceit added, and Roman nearly burst into flames. He coughed awkwardly, taking the opportunity to hide his wide grin behind his hand.

“Well, I, uh... I think Patton’s just like Cinderella’s fairy godmother.” He sputtered, moving the focus away from him. The side in question lit up, bouncing slightly in his seat.

“Ah, that’s sweet Roman!”

“W-Well, you’re sweet and you’d do anything to help someone like Cinderella achieve her dream, and you would totally make a pumpkin into a carriage!”

Patton giggled. “True! Bibbity boopity boop!” He sung, tapping Virgil’s nose to the other’s confusion. “Well, I got Logan and I thought of Mary Poppins!”

Logan pursed his lips. “Really?”

“Yes! She’s organized, and knows exactly what to do to make sure the kids get their work done!”

“She’s also calculated enough to realize when she needs to leave and detach from the situation to move on to the next problem.” Deceit added, and Logan blinked, considering it.

“I... suppose. Although I cannot imagine singing the songs in that movie, they’re somehow more ridiculous than any other Disney film.”

“Says the guy who spent almost ten minutes singing about a jelly brand...” Deceit muttered and Roman snickered. Logan kept his face neutral, though the tips of his ears did turn pink. He cleared his throat.

Logan looked at Virgil. “Well then, I believe that just leaves me. I believe Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas is a good fit for you.”

“Is this just because I’ve got a poster of the movie in my room?” Virgil asked.

“Partially, yes. I know you enjoy the movie. However, I believe you do share some traits with the protagonist.”

Roman tilted his head. “Really? I would have put him as Sally, if I had to pick someone from that one.”

“Yes, well, I find it an accurate metaphor for your joining our little group.” Everyone’s attention was on Virgil, so nobody caught how Deceit’s jaw tightened ever so slightly at Logan’s words. “You were stuck in your own world, feeling isolated until you came across something new and exciting. However, your entry into this new world was... rocky, one might say. The details of the movie muddle the metaphor, and perhaps the ending isn’t truly reflective of our truth, but regardless, I feel it’s suitable.”

“Wow Logan, that was a... detailed analysis...” Virgil said slowly, glancing quickly at Deceit but seeing only his trademark grin on his face.

“I thought that was the point of this game?” Logan asked, confused.

“You did wonderfully, Logan. In fact, I think your choice was the most accurate out of all of us.” Deceit complimented him, and the logical side adjusted his glasses quickly.

“That’s kind of you, Deceit.”

Beside him, Patton could feel Virgil tense up, and he subtly nudged his leg up against the anxious side’s, trying to convey some encouragement through the touch.

“Well then, let’s pass to the right! This time, let’s put a new rule in place! You have to name a princess that the person is like! Or a female main character, even if they don’t have the title of princess technically. For this, characters like Pocahontas and Moana are princesses, even if that’s not technically their title.” Roman explained eagerly. That hadn’t gone horribly! And forcing them into a narrower focus, hopefully he could avoid a spat between Virgil and Deceit.

The sides all passed their badges to the right, and Deceit immediately smirked and held up his brain logo, leaning forward. “Well, this one is just too easy. Belle, Beauty and the Beast.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Too easy?”

“She’s the only one in town who reads, and also seems to be the only one with a smidge of common sense.”

The logical side groaned. “Yes, but she also fell in love with a monster who essentially kidnapped her and held her captive.”

Roman threw his head back and rubbed at his eyes. “We’re not starting the Stockholm Syndrome argument again! Not tonight!”

Logan shut his mouth, clearly he’d been about to argue that very point. “Fine then. Regardless of that, the very fact that she fell in love with him--”

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot you’re an emotionless robot who doesn’t feel anything. Unfortunately, there’s not many Disney princesses who are like that, so I had to make due with the princess who forces the prince to respect her as a person before she starts falling for him.” Deceit’s tone was more forceful than the others expected, and it startled them a bit. Logan especially leaned back, unsure to why he sounded so frustrated.

“I didn’t mean-- Belle is fine, I just...” Deceit waited, but Logan trailed off. “Nevermind.”

“Anyways, I have myself this round, and I just have one thing to say - Merida. That is all!”

The others rolled their eyes but let it be. It was a pretty decent fit.

“I’ve got myself too, but how am I supposed to pick a princess? They’re all way too... fluffy for my taste.” Virgil mumbled, flipping the patch over and over between his fingers.

“What’s wrong with being fluffy?” Patton asked, pouting.

“Nothing, it’s just not me.”

“Megara!” Roman exclaimed.

“Ooh, that’s a good one Roman.” Deceit hummed, and Virgil considered it as Roman explained.

“She’s smart, sassy, doesn’t take any crap from Hades, and she only does what she does because she made a deal with Hades to save and protect the one she loved. It maybe didn’t turn out well... but she got a happy ending!”

Virgil considered it, and seemed to accept it with a shrug. “Sure, whatever.”

“Patton, I have you, and I think Princess Jasmine from Aladdin fits you rather nicely.” Logan spoke, and Patton turned to him.

“Really? I love her, she’s so pretty!”

“Yes, well, one of her defining characteristics is her intense hatred for being lied to and treated like an object rather than a person.” Patton tensed up at the mention of lying, and he intentionally avoided looking at Deceit, who he could feel was staring at him. “Considering your own moral compass, it seemed like an accurate fit.”

“A-Ah, well, I guess so... I don’t know if I could be as brave as she is though...” Patton tried to deflect, then he looked down at the patch in his hands and realized he was the last one in this round. “Um, I’m sorry, I tried but I couldn’t really think of a princess for you, Deceit...”

Deceit’s slitted eye twitched.

“That’s alright, Patton! Let’s all think of something together!” Roman was quick to reassure him, then tapped his chin as he thought. “What about... Mulan? She lied about her gender so that she could join the army and protect her father. And even when she was revealed, she still did everything she could to fulfill her duty!” Roman looked down and saw Deceit was smiling softly at him, and felt heat rush to his cheeks. The lying side quickly schooled his features into a more neutral expression as the others looked to him.

“That works for me. ‘Hero of China’ is a title I would be more than willing to hold.” Deceit leaned back, throwing his arm across the back of the couch.

Roman sighed in relief - he’d felt the tension in the room rise when Patton didn’t have an answer, but thankfully he’d resolved it. “OK! Let’s go again! This time - Disney princes!”

They all passed and thought for a moment. Roman spoke up first, showing Logan his badge. “I’ve got one! You, Logan, are the spitting image of Milo Thatch from Atlantis!”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “Explain your thought process, please.”

“Easy! You’re a nerd, awkward and obsessed with learning! Plus, he has glasses!”

“You’re underselling him a bit, Roman. Milo is the hero of the story, all because he studied dead languages and a civilization that most people considered unimportant. If he hadn’t dedicated his life to it despite people telling him his study was pointless, Atlantis’ entire culture would have died out without anyone knowing.” Deceit added, and the other sides all stared at him in surprise. “What? I agree with Roman, but he wasn’t hitting on the important parts of his character.” He explained nonchalantly.

Logan blinked. Did Deceit just indirectly call him important for the work he does? “I, er, well... thank you.” He stuttered, cursing himself for his lack of coherency.

Virgil watched this exchange with clenched teeth. It made his blood boil, how smoothly Deceit could wrap the two of them around his little finger. One word that could remotely be construed as praise and they were practically falling all over him.

He wouldn’t fall for it. He could only hope Patton wouldn’t either.

“Well, Roman, I have you this round, and I know how much would you love to be compared to a strong, daring prince, so I’m not going to do that.” Roman gasped, a hand over his heart in mock surprise, and Logan smirked. “Instead, I’m going to say Roger from 101 Dalmations.”

Roman tilted his head. “Really? Wouldn’t Patton fit that better? He loves dogs!”

“You’re musical and you would absolutely compose a song about a villain, and if you were given the chance you would completely change the course of your life to take care of dogs.” Logan explained.

The creative side let out a huff. “Ok, I can’t argue on the song thing, but Patton would do the same thing if he had a hundred dogs suddenly show up on his doorstep.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “I’m just playing by the rules of the game you created. I don’t have Patton this round, I have you. And that’s my choice.”

“Fine! Virgil, go, you’ve got Patton!”

“Prince Eric.”

Roman gasped for real this time. “What?!” He screeched.

Virgil shrugged. “Patton’s the kind of person who would pick up some random stranger off the beach and invite her to stay in his castle as an honored guest. And then fall in love with her in three days.”

Patton squealed and tackled Virgil in a side hug. “Aww, you think so? Virgil, that’s so sweet!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow - that was an interesting way to react to that explanation. Beside him, Roman was huffing in annoyance.

“I could be Prince Eric! Patton, can’t we switch?”

Patton just giggled. “I don’t think that’s part of the game, kiddo! Anyways, this is funny, I have Virgil this round! And I’ve got the perfect one. Bambi!”

Deceit stifled a laugh, not attempting to hide how widely he was grinning. Virgil whipped around and stared daggers at him. “What’re you laughing at, snakeface?”

“Absolutely nothing. Go ahead, I’m dying to hear your reasoning, Patton!”

Virgil sneered but Deceit stayed quiet as Patton explained, putting his hand over Virgil’s to draw his attention back to him. “When you first started really joining us in videos, you didn’t exactly know what you were doing. A lot of stuff was new and you didn’t know how to deal with it so you didn’t at first. Not until you made friends who could help you!”

“I mean I guess...” It felt wrong, but he just wanted to move on rather than argue against it. “Alright, well, that’s it then, let’s pass and go again.”

“Hold on just a moment Virgil, Deceit hasn’t given his answer yet. This game won’t be as effective unless everyone takes part.” Logan pointed out, and Virgil inwardly cursed Logan a thousand different ways.

“I can understand your mistake, Virgil, we all know how forgettable I am.” The anxious side resisted the urge to hiss at him. He was trying to piss him off - Virgil wouldn’t fall for it.

“Aladdin.” Deceit answered.

“Ah right, the prince who lies and steals to get what he wants.” Virgil rolled his eyes.

Deceit turned to him, eyes narrowed. “A ‘street rat’ who’s been looked down on his whole life for who he is, something he was born as and has no control over, who was forced to steal and lie to stay alive in a society that treats him like dirt. Someone who is given a chance of a lifetime to turn himself around, but is forced to hide a big part of himself in order to integrate into that society and finally be accepted by someone who will love him regardless of his past or who he is.” Deceit met Virgil’s eyes evenly, his face a mask. Beside him, Patton was shifting uncomfortably, staring at his feet. It was an unexpectedly candid answer and he could feel the guilt stirring in his chest. The room slowly got colder as they stared at each other, the tension hanging like a thick fog in the air.

“How is it that you manage to be even more edgy than me?” Virgil quipped, and the room’s temperature rose again as Deceit laughed, a sharp noise breaking the awkward silence.

“I can only dream of being as edgy as you, my dear Virgil.” Deceit purred, and Virgil was glad Patton was between them because otherwise he would take a swing and knock that smug look right off his face.

“Ok, let’s move on!” Roman broke in, passing his badge over. They all swapped, though Virgil was grumbling the whole way that this whole idea was stupid.

“This time let’s do side characters! Comic relief, background characters, anyone but the main characters!”

Deceit smirked and held up the badge he’d received, and Virgil braved himself. Great, what horrible character would Deceit compare him to to piss him off now?

“Eeyore.” What? Virgil glanced at him - that was tame. What was he playing at?

“Why?” The anxious side ventured cautiously.

The lying side smirked. “Always looks on the dark side and brings up the negatives to every decision--”

“And he’s still loved by his friends despite that!” Patton interrupted Deceit, putting his arm around Virgil and pulling him into a tight hug.

“And he’s still loved by his friends despite that.” Deceit parroted quietly, and while Virgil and Patton missed it as Virgil struggled to get out of Patton’s grip, Logan and Roman caught it and shared a look.

If Deceit was upset or angry, he didn’t show it as he looked over to Roman and grinned widely. “Your turn~”

Roman, who’d been debating, hit his fist against his palm and grinned. “That’s it! The Cheshire cat!”

“That’s a rather surface observation, Roman. Are you just referring to his smile?” Logan asked, and Roman shook his head.

“No! Well, yes, that’s part of it, you have a very unique smile, but it’s more than that! In the movie, the cat appears just to confuse Alice and say things that make sense to him, but nobody else.” Roman grinned a little like a cheshire himself. “You always keep things to yourself and get us to run around in circles trying to understand you!”

“Oh but it’s much more fun that way!” Deceit snickered.

“See? That’s what I mean!” Roman gestured, and Deceit took it in stride.

“You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you~” The lying side humored him, and Roman shrugged, happy with himself.

“Tinkerbell.”

The three of them turned to look at Virgil, who was staring at Roman intently. “I beg your pardon?” Logan asked.

“Roman. I choose Tinkerbell.”

“Because I’m magical and wonderous? Why thank you Virgil!”

“Because you’re only pleased with yourself when someone pays attention to you. Otherwise you sulk or throw a tantrum.” Roman’s eyes widened, and he leaned back, trying to play it off with a laugh.

“I only wish for the world to recognize my talents!”

Deceit’s eye twitched again.

“Yeah right princey.”

“I have myself this round! And I think I’m like Mrs. Potts from Beauty and the Beast!” Patton broke in, holding up his heart patch joyfully. “She’s kind and a mother and she always looks on the bright side and tries to cheer up Belle when she stays in the castle!” He said all in one breath, and the others nodded along. If any of them would be able to comfort someone in the situation Belle found herself in, it would be him. The irony wasn’t lost on Deceit that he’d compared Logan to Belle not half an hour earlier.

“That leaves you, Logan! You have yourself, right?” Patton asked, and Logan nodded, holding up the brain patch.

“Yes. I think I’ll choose Sebastian, from The Little Mermaid. He’s organized, task-oriented, and his plans are always ruined by someone who decides to go running of on an adventure.” He glared pointedly at Roman, who just rolled his eyes.

“Life is so boring the way you live it! I have to keep you on your toes!”

“I could certainly do without it.” The logical side grumbled.

Roman glanced around and realized they’d all gone. “Well, that went faster than I thought! We can start a movie now, if you want--”

“Just a moment, Roman. We still have one more rotation. And I have the perfect idea~” Deceit interrupted him, and his tone put Virgil immediately on edge.

“Oh, yeah? What’s... what’s that?”

“Well, we’ve done princesses, princes and side characters. But we have one more rotation, and one more group. Why don’t we do one last round and pick from Disney villains?”

Roman chewed his lip, looking over at Virgil nervously. “Ah, well, I... I wasn’t going to... I mean, Virgil...”

“Right, right, I understand. You don’t want to compare dear Virgil to a villain, given his history. But if we all do it, then it’s fair, right? We won’t single anyone out.” Deceit’s voice was smooth, convincing, and Roman would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about the villains in this game.

“W-Well, what do you guys think? We don’t have to if you don’t want to...” Roman turned the question on the rest of them, unsure what result he himself wanted.

“I for one believe it would be a good exercise. Disney villains especially have a wide range of characteristics and motivations, exploring those darker themes could be interesting.” Logan put in, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable.

“And it’s just a thought exercise, after all. We’re not saying anyone in this room is actually a villain, right?” Deceit added, watching Patton’s reactions carefully. He knew Virgil wouldn’t agree with him just on principle, but Roman and Logan were both for the idea. It would be majority vote...

But Roman wouldn’t dare go against his beloved fatherly side. If Patton said no, Roman would change his mind to please him. It made Deceit crazy.

Patton knew he was being watched from all sides, and he bit his lip. On the one hand, he wanted to push Deceit away and just start watching a movie - at least then, he wouldn’t have to talk to him anymore. He could lean against Virgil and try to forget he was there at all, and try to ignore the butterflies in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away.

On the other hand, Roman was looking at him with such raw hope in his eyes that he couldn’t bear to say no. “Well... I guess it is just a game we’re playing.”

Roman lit up - he hadn’t realized that he’d been holding his breath until he felt his lungs burning. “Uh, ok then, let’s do it!”

They passed their badges, and Patton realized as soon as Deceit took hold of his badge what he’d gotten himself into. He felt his heart stop. How had he forgotten who exactly Deceit would be answering for!?

“I suppose I’ll start then.” Logan said after the room fell into a tense silence. “Deceit, I believe you fit Tamatoa from Moana well.”

That actually caught Deceit off guard, though he hid it well enough. “Really? Please, elaborate on that Logan.”

“Certainly. To begin, while Tamatoa is certainly an antagonist in the movie and his actions towards the protagonists aren’t exactly excusable, upon many viewings,” Logan cast a glance at Roman, “I can conclude that the main motivation for his actions is selfish desire. He gathers shiny things and keeps them in his cave, and doesn’t let anyone touch them.”

Deceit resisted the urge to rub at the scratches that were slowly healing on his face. None of them had mentioned it until now, and it wasn’t for lack of noticing, he was sure. He narrowed his eyes curiously. “Interesting. Are you calling me selfish for how I keep my room, Logan?”

Logan wasn’t intimidated, and merely shrugged. “It’s simply a comparison. Am I incorrect?”

There was a pause.

“Not entirely.” Deceit answered, tugging at his hat that had begun to slip down on his head.

“Alright then. Virgil, would you like to go next? You have my badge.”

Virgil shrunk in on himself. “C’mon Teach, I don’t wanna compare you to a villain--”

Logan gave him a soft, rare smile. “It’s quite alright. This is just a thought exercise, Virgil.”

The anxious side took a breath. He damned Logan - if only he could have kept his mouth shut, he wouldn’t need to deal with this! “Uhh... I guess... maybe... Frolo?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “From Hunchback of Notre Dame? Interesting... why?”

Virgil stared at his shoes. “I dunno... he’s smart, and he doesn’t show his emotions easily.”

“Hmm... Well, I don’t believe I’ve ever displayed the... lust he does, but aside from that I understand where you’re coming from.”

“Yeah.” Virgil shrugged, uncomfortable. Patton nudged him subtly with his elbow, and Virgil turned up a corner of his mouth to show him he was alright.

“Roman, why don’t you go next?” Logan encouraged, taking over the activity since Roman was sitting still, staring at the small storm cloud badge in his hand.

“I, uh... I mean, Virgil...” He’d lost any and all bravado he’d had before, and now he just stared across the sectional with apologetic eyes.

“Just get it over with, princey.”

“Uh... Maleficent. Technically, yes, she’s the villain, but if you look at the original story, it was actually the king and queen who insulted her first. And she even gave them a chance to fix their mistake, and only cursed them when they did it again. Not to mention she gave the princess an out for her curse!” Roman explained quickly, like the very words burned him as he spoke. Virgil shrugged, though inwardly he felt a small prick of warmth. He did everything he could to make his choice a good one for him, and to not offend or scare him.

When had Roman gotten so careful about not offending him?

“Oh, does that make it my turn then?” Deceit hummed as Roman fell silent. The lying side grinned widely, leaning forward into Patton’s personal bubble and twirled the heart patch between his fingers.

“I thought of the perfect one for you, Patton. How about Hans, from Frozen?”

“W-What?!” Patton exclaimed, jerking away from Deceit. “But... he’s horrible! He lies to Anna and tries to kill her!”

“He tells her everything she wants to hear, encourages her to go after her sister, her only living family, and that he can manage her kingdom by himself while she’s gone. All. By. Himself.”

Patton shrunk slightly under the intense gaze from Deceit’s golden eye. “I... don’t understand...”

“What’re you playing at?!” Virgil growled, his voice low. Deceit didn’t spare him a glance.

“He took over, and he did it all under the radar. Nobody ever suspected what a horrible person he was inside. He kept up the facade as long as he needed to to get what he wanted.”

“That’s it you piece of shit!” The anxious side exploded, pushing Patton to the side as he stood up and grabbed Deceit’s collar, pulling him to stand face to face. “You’re not allowed to insult him! You’re saying all this stupid shit about Patton when really, you’re the one you’re talking about!”

“Virgil, please calm down! Violence will not solve anything!” Logan stood as well, trying to step forward but Deceit held up a hand.

“Don’t worry, Logan. Virgil’s just a little too into this game, that’s all. Isn’t that right? Come now Virgil, it’s just an exercise - I already said we aren’t the villains we name. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

Virgil hissed, but was suddenly acutely aware that the rest of the sides were staring at him with bated breath, waiting to see if he would really take a swing. Against all his instincts, he didn’t run away nor did he punch the daylights out of Deceit. He forced his hand open and let Deceit fall back into the couch.

“Now then, we only have one more to go, don’t we? Patton, you’re the big finale~”

Patton shied away from Deceit, holding the red and gold badge against his chest. “I... I can’t compare Roman to a villain! He’s a prince, that’s just... wrong!”

“Yeah, why don’t we just call the game here?” Virgil jumped in, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Roman deflate just a little.

Deceit caught it too. “Well that’s not fair, we can’t leave Roman out of this round! But I’ve got an idea, if you need help Patton.” The deceitful side offered sincerely.

“We don’t need--”

“How about Gaston?”

Roman turned his head. “You think-- I mean, I--”

“You’re strong, handsome, and loved by all.”

The prince sucked in a breath. “I... Those aren’t really... what make him a villain...”

“We never said you had to relate to the characteristics that make them a villain, Roman. Are you so upset by that arbitrary label that you don’t want to associate at all with any of the things that make him the character he is?”

Roman stared at him, confused. Where did that come from? “I...”

Deceit smiled. “There’s a bit more to life than pure good and pure evil, Roman.”

Then Deceit stood and stretched, ignoring how the rest of the sides were staring at him. “I’ll be right back, why don’t you all start the movie without me?”

He walked out, into the bathroom down the hall. The four of them sat in stunned silence.

“So, uh... what movie should we watch tonight?”