#was it good for me? probably not. but the crunch was immaculate

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I just saw a pair of those socks with the beads on them and had vivid childhood memories flash before my eyes. The most prominent ones were when the kindergarten class were sitting on the carpet at reading time and the other kids would always play with my socks. I was supposed to be quiet so I didn’t say anything but it was a really weird feeling. On the one hand I didn’t like being touched by other people very much, but on the other it kinda tickled and it distracted me. I had mixed feelings about it.

[utilitycaster]

I'm the abridgement anon from before. Thanks for thinking so much about it! Here's my status with respect to C3: I watched every episode up to 24, then fell off. I tried to rejoin several times thereafter (basically, whenever the grapevine said something important had happened - Laudna's death, Ashton eating the shard, FCG's death) and every time I bounced off again. I do want to give this my best shot, but I fear that it just might not be for me.

Ok so that's actually helpful specifically because I was like "hmmm...people should probably watch up to 24, and then the skipping happens."

I went for a very "here's what you REALLY shouldn't skip; anything else you can (and should) pick up on recaps" but after around episode 37 there's only like 2 episodes I'd actively recommend you skip (64 and 82 btw), and after the solstice I don't think it ever really drags other than during Endless Convos About Whether The Gods Are Good Or The Vanguard Has A Point. Speaking of, watch the full conversation in episode 49 but after that whenever they start on theology and "are the gods worth it" feel free to skip until it stops, regardless of whatever else I said about the episode, except for the one this most recent episode (92).

Bassuras: You can skip 25 entirely unless you want to experience Taste of Tal'Dorei. for 26-30, basically jump around whenever you get bored and flip to recaps. I recommend the All-Minds-Burn scenes, maybe some Imahara Joe but you'll see him in a bit. Episode 28 is basically entirely a no-holds-barred drag race which I found fun but is not necessary. You should watch 31, but if you get bored with the first half, skip to recaps and jump to the second half. First half of 32 is good and important. Second half you can get in recap but there are some good conversations. First half of 33 is similar watch if you want but recap if you don't. Otohan fight is the second half of 33; it is relevant but also. you could recap it. You should watch all of 34 though, which is good, and it and 32's first half are plenty of Imahara Joe content.

Laudna's death arc: Back half of 35 if you like Ashton, otherwise skip. I'm gonna be real honest: if you like Percy, Vex, or Pike there's some good stuff in 36-37 and if Laudna's your favorite character watch it but if not just read a recap and take this time to rewatch your favorite C1 Briarwoods Arc episode. Watch 38-39 but if you get really bored you can probably go to a recap for 39 though I do think Weva Vudol and Chetney's werewolf time are great.

Chetney and Yios: 40-41 are a Chetney-centric side quest. I think they are really fun episodes with a lot of great moments but they can be skipped if you're in a crunch. 42 is a good party rp episode and a lot of fun but not super plot heavy. The second half of 43 is a load-bearing infodump; you cannot skip the content thereof (and Planerider Ryn is fun) if you find yourself glazing over find a plot/lore heavy recap. Skip first half of 44 (fun but silly combat) but watch the second half. 45 is quite important and pretty good.

Feywild and Solstice leadup: Feywild arc (46, 47, first half of 48) are fun but basically watch 46 until you feel you've had enough (it's pretty good imo, you may watch it through) to get Morri's immaculate vibe. 47 is important. You can skip all of 48 except the trip to Gelvaan in the end, which you should watch. 49 is long and talky but it does have a lot of good conversations; I would watch that all though feel free to throw it on 2x if you don't already do that. 50-51 also pretty vital, 51 being especially unmissable. Beau and Caleb are in 50!

Solstice Split (Team Wildemount): I honestly think these and Team Issylra's are some of the strongest and most interesting episodes in the campaign but again, if you are pressed for time: you can skip 54 and 56 (fun chetney backstory standalone and travel to molaesmyr respectively). You can also skip the first half of 57.

Solstice split (Team Issylra): I'd watch the whole thing but if you feel like fast-forwarding through the combat in 61 and throwing 62 on in the background or on 2x you can.

Reunion and Air Ashari Sidequest: you can, ngl, flat-out skip 64; there's a zillion people at the table and anything important gets rehashed in 65. Watch 65. I like 66-68 a lot but you probably could skip them if you read recaps (68 is also rather important infodumping). 69 is a good downtime episode which is to say there are good character interactions but if you're on a plot speedrun you can skip to the part of the back half where they go to Yios. Basically: no clunkers in this arc other than 64 - I found it really watchable - but also ultimately a sidequest so if you get bored don't be afraid to go to recaps.

Errands and the Shattered Teeth: Again, no clunkers, but a lot of stuff you can safely skip, so here's what you shouldn't miss: the All Minds Burn scene at the end of 70. Everything after Jirana and Toriz show up in 71. Make sure to know what happens in 72 and it's fun but you can skip it and catch the pirate crew in 73 instead, which I'd watch until they disembark as a weird downtime ep but especially Fearne's scenes if nothing else. Watch the second half of 74 and the second half of 75 (first halves of both are fine, just, again, you can fill in with a recap).

Whitestone and the Feywild aka SHARD TIME: For 76 watch FCG's scenes with Dancer and at the Horizon temple; and Ashton, Orym, and Chetney's scenes at the Altar of the Raven. Lots of important lore that you should read in a recap. 77 you can skip to when Delilah manifests in the first half and then watch the rest of the episode. 78 is worth it the whole way through (post shard). Watch the first half of 79. The second half of 79 and the first half of 80 are team-building exercises and you can read a recap of this if you don't feel like watching. Do watch the second half of 80.

Ruidus: Watch all of 81. You can safely skip 82 and the first half of 83; it is all fighting to get to the moon and fighting while on the moon. Watch the second half of 83. From there, I think it's worth probably watching to where we are (well. at least to the break of 92 anyway) but if you MUST skip stuff: first half of 87 pretty skippable; combat in 88 skippable but the rest you should watch. Definitely watch 89; 90 is like...I would not skip it and it's fun but it's basically an action movie so you can like, put it on in the background if you want. Finally, the Otohan combat in the second half of 91 is a complicated thing in that I (D&D combat mechanics enjoyer) liked it and I think FCG's death has more weight for me because I knew what it meant, but if you are not up on D&D mechanics watch it on 2x until the last half hour because Otohan has no personality.

[helpinghanyuu]

鬼隠し編 – ONIKAKUSHI-HEN (SPIRITED AWAY BY THE DEMONS) DAY 01_001

Even though we were approaching summer, the morning air still had a frigid bite.

Although, in exchange, you could fill your lungs up with crisp, clean air.

Flipping open the window, I was greeted with a verdant expanse.

Nothing but trees.

The neighboring house was far away on the other side, so I was probably the only one enjoying that view and that air.

I filled my lungs with another deep breath.

Since I started living in Hinamizawa, I learned that even air had its own taste.

I quickly finished getting ready for school and headed downstairs for breakfast.

My mother was the only one there. My father was nowhere to be seen.

He was probably up working until the early morning.

Dad had a rather unconventional job as a painter.

It's such a laid-back profession.

Get up when you want, sleep when you want, and work when you want.

I was so jealous of that easy-going lifestyle,

I even wrote for school that I wanted to be a painter when I grew up. Dad was ecstatic about that.

It was just because it looked easy. I'd never tell him that, though.

Mom laid breakfast out on the table.

Seaweed, pickled vegetables, raw egg, and grilled salmon.

My mom was such a good cook, it was scary.

A perfect, immaculate, ideal breakfast.

Unlike my dad, who didn't even know the meaning of the word schedule, my mom never squandered any time or effort.

She hummed a little tune as she brought over the miso soup. It seemed like she was in a good mood today.

“I'm so happy you've been waking up early since we moved here, Keiichi.”

“If I don't wake up early, I won't have time to eat breakfast.”

I thought I was being cute, responding with a wise-crack after being praised for being good.

“Full bowl of rice? Or will half be enough?”

“Pile it on.”

First, I savored the steaming hot rice with the seaweed.

After that, I covered it with the egg.

Between bites of rice, I enjoyed the crunch of the pickles.

Not bad at all.

Excellent, as usual.

Watching me clean my plate, Mom gave me a warm smile.

“I'm so happy you haven't skipped breakfast ever since we moved here, Keiichi.”

I was not a morning person when we lived in the city.

I slept right until the last minute before school and rarely ate breakfast.

Boycotting the breakfast Mom made me each morning... that was probably the only way I could protest being forced to attend cram school.

...I guess that was what you'd call my rebellious phase.

I wouldn't so much as look at the breakfast she woke up early every day to make.

If I could go back in time, I'd slap myself.

Mindful of the time, Mom rushed me along with a wide grin.

“Isn't it about time to meet up with Rena-chan?

Hurry, hurry.”

Mom really seemed to enjoy the fact that her son was going to school with a girl.

Rena is one of my classmates.

She really loves looking after people, coming to meet me every day without fail.

The way I looked at it, a guy my age walking to school with a girl was just lame...

But, well, keeping a classmate waiting for me every day wouldn't be very considerate.

...Seriously, though, how long does Rena wait there for me every morning...?

Taking one last gulp of miso soup, I raced for the door.

“Please thank Rena-chan for the pickles~!”

Come to think of it, those pickles weren't store-bought, were they?

...If I'd known that, I would have savored them a bit more!

“Mornin'!”

“Keiichi-kun~!

Good morning~!”

Her cheerful greeting was as fresh as the morning itself.

“You're always so early.

You should try sleeping in sometime.”

“If I sleep in, I'll keep you waiting.”

...She's so conscientious, and such a good person.

“If that ever happens, I'll just leave you behind.”

“Keiichi-kun, you're so cold.

I wait for you all the time…”

“I'll leave you in the dust.

Without looking back.”

“Why are you so mean?

...Why?”

Rena had a slightly troubled look on her face.

Toying with her was rather fun because of how quickly her mood changed.

“I'm kidding. I'd wait for you.”

With those words, Rena seemed to relax.

Her face flushed bright red.

“...Ah ...Th-Thank you…”

“I'd wait forever until you came, Rena.

No matter how long.”

“...Ah-ah, ah...

...For...

Forever…”

Rena turned bright red, steam rising from her head as her brain short-circuited.

She's especially weak to this sort of talk.

It's quite rare to find someone this fun to tease.

“Have you ever read a romance novel, Rena...?”

“...Huh...

...Ah ...I haven't.

N-Never read any before.”

From that response, I gathered she was interested in them but was too embarrassed to actually buy one.

I couldn't imagine what would happen if she did read one.

She'd probably turn red and pass out...

“Oh, yeah, message from Mom. She says thanks for the pickles.”

“I-It was nothing. You're welcome~.

How were they?

Not too salty?”

“They weren't that salty.

Actually, they had a pretty light flavor to them.”

...It would have been fine to just be honest and say they were good, but apparently I couldn't be that forthright.

...I'd like to ask something before that.

“Were you the one who pickled them, Rena?

Or was it your mom?”

“Huh?

...Huh? Why do you ask?

Were...

Were they too salty...?”

Her attitude completely changed as she began to panic frantically.

“Was it you, Rena? Or was it your mom?”

“...Wh-Why are you asking who made them?

...Why!?”

“Depending on who made them, my opinion of them might change drastically.”

“...Huh, huh uh...!?”

She counted frantically on her fingers, trying to remember the amount of salt she'd used to pickle them.

...It wasn't like I was trying to tease her, but I couldn't stop myself.

Guys who take pleasure in this kind of thing are probably the worst.

...Guys like me.

Rena nervously opened and closed her mouth over and over, trying to muster a response.

“...I-It was me…”

“Delicious.”

“Huh?”

“Pretty good, just like the last ones. They went perfectly with the rice.”

Her face went bright red again.

She was completely spacing out.

It truly was a lot of fun to tease her.

I pray that Rena never gets taken advantage of by some lowlife.

Keep at it, Rena. I'll train you until you handle it like the average person!

...Or so I decided for myself.

“Let's go! If we keep Mion waiting, we'll never hear the end of it.”

Seeing as she'd just keep spacing out otherwise, I called Rena back to reality so we could make our way to school.

This strange, easily flustered girl is Rena Ryuugu.

I've only known her for about a month, but I've come to realize it's not just her name that's strange.

“Mii-cha~n! Good morning~!”

Coming up to the next rendezvous point, we saw another person waiting for us.

Noticing us, she waved.

“Ah, finally, finally. You two are late~!”

“Usually, you're the one who's late!”

In sharp contrast to the diligent Rena, this one marched to the beat of her own drum.

She's Mion Sonozaki.

For what it's worth, she's our senior and head of the class.

“Morning Rena. And it's been a while, Kei-chan!

How many years?”

“I was only off two days!”

“Ah haha!

You don't say.

You were so much cuter back then!”

Mion's gaze started at my chest then dropped straight down, focusing on the point between my legs.

...So she was saying it was my crotch that was cuter back then.

Before you ask, just to be clear, I've never actually tried to show it to her.

“I've grown quite splendidly.

You'd be surprised.

Not only is he bigger, but he has a little moustache now~☆

Being so *engorged* with energy every morning is quite a problem, though.

I'll introduce you next time, so be sure to greet him properly.”

“Don't say 'next time.' Right now is just fine.

How about letting the little guy get a breath of fresh morning air?”

“I don't think I've ever heard talk so dirty you could smell it fouling up the morning air before.”

Mion sure does act like an old man sometimes.

“Gotcha.

Time for the big reveal.

Hope you don't regret it...!!”

As my hand reached for my fly, Rena began to ramble in a near panic.

“...Hey,

hey hey...

What are you talking about?

What're you talking about!? What're you talking about...!!”

Red-faced and flustered, Rena tried to play dumb, but it was obvious she knew exactly what we were talking about.

“How was it?

Seeing the city again.”

Mion switched gears, dropping the dirty talk and changing the topic to something more befitting the pleasant morning.

“I only went for a funeral. I didn't have much time.”

“So yeah! Did you look for iiit?

...That thing I asked for?”

“You're... not listening... at all.

I just came back from a funeral!

I didn't have any time to look around in toy stores!”

“Tsk tsk tsk.

Toy stores and hobby shops are completely different, you know? 

It's really difficult to get western stuff around here, after all.”

“Is this about games again, Mii-chan?”

Mion nodded proudly as Rena giggled.

“Yep! I wanted Kei-chan to bring me back a 'west port' catalogue, you see.”

West port was short for western imported games.

Using that abbreviation did make it sound pretty geeky.

“You can just get them to send you one in the mail, can't you?”

“Well, guess I have to now.

I'm going to get another game full of hot action!”

“...Th-This time, I'd like a game that's easy to understand…”

Mion is a board and card game enthusiast, and I hear she's collected quite a lot of different ones.

According to Rena, Mion's room has kind of become a museum for domestic and foreign games.

If there's a game you think I'd understand, let me play too.

“Heh... of course!

If Kei-chan is up for it. I should warn you though, we're pretty tough.”

“Just what I want.

I play all sorts of games. I don't intend to lose!”

“...Whoa...

Then we'll let you in the group this time, I guess.

...I guess!”

Bristling with joy from head to toe, Rena looked back and forth between me and Mion.

Mion gave her an affirmative wink, and her expression perked up even further.

“I thought boys preferred playing outside more, so... I figured you wouldn't want to.”

Rena laughed happily.

From such a friendly conversation, you wouldn't think I had moved here less than a month ago.

I understood that they did all they could to make a transfer student like me feel at home.

I'll have to try harder to fit in, so they won't feel like they have to try to make me feel welcome.

I felt like if I acted a bit more open than I usually am, it should probably be about right for this place.

Hinamizawa was a really small village. Not only was there only one school, but there was only one class.

That class encompasses all different grades and ages.

There are about 30 students at different levels, and they all study in the same class.

I'm told that, long ago, there used to be a bigger school building and they had actual separate classes.

However, it seems something happened that made it become a single class, and now it stayed that way out of tradition.

I was shocked at first, but humans adapt pretty quickly. I've already gotten quite used to it.

The sound of children playing started right from the morning.

With such a lively mood, it felt more like a kindergarten than a proper school, not that that was a bad thing.

Mion, who had been walking in front of us up until then, suddenly let me take the lead.

Right in front of the classroom door.

So I was meant to slide the door open and enter the room first.

“Heh…”

Too bad. I wasn't going to fall for that again.

“...To think you'd give up the lead here.

You meant for this to be a test of my skills.”

Mion chuckled with a haughty smirk on her face.

“Wh-What is it... you guys...?”

“Step back, Rena. It's dangerous.

...She's here!”

“Huh...?

Then... Satoko-chan is...!?”

Her name was Satoko Houjou.

She was a disrespectful, impudent, bossy kid.

The way she talks was annoying, but it would be immature to get worked up over just that.

The real problem... was this...

...Quite the obvious trap. A blackboard eraser wedged in the door.

“...It's too obvious! Satoko!”

A haughty laugh came from beyond the door.

“Excellent, Kei-chan! ...I guess that means you win this round?”

...No, this is Satoko we're talking about.

I doubt this is it..!

After falling for such intricate traps since the day I transferred, I no longer let my guard down.

Satoko liked to combine a variety of traps: traps that were simply there to bait you into the main one, traps that relentlessly kept coming at you like a sadistic Rube Goldberg machine, the list goes on.

As well as being clever, they almost never misfire.

When you least expect it... she strikes!

No escape. No time to relax.

“By the looks of it, this eraser is normal.

No rocks or anything in it.

I took a pretty heavy hit from a blackboard eraser loaded with rocks on my first day.”

“So then why don't you just open the door and let it drop...?”

That's what it is!

That's what Satoko was after.

Making me focus my attention upward. So as I lifted my hand to the door...

There were thumbtacks stuck to the sliding door handle with tape; a frightening trap.

A potent and terrifying trap.

Concealed by using the blackboard eraser...

An impressive combination, Satoko!

But in the end nothing more than the trivial machinations of a child!

Assured of my victory, I threw the door open and stepped into the room.

I felt something strange at my ankle.

It was similar to the sensation of a jump rope catching on my leg.

By the time I realized she had me—hook, line, and sinker—it was already too late.

I began to fall in an almost picturesque manner.

“Kei-chan, watch out!!”

Instinctively reacting to Mion's shrill warning, I twisted my body in midair before I landed on the floor.

“...Ow ow... ow!?”

An ink stone, filled to the brim, was placed right where I would have landed...!

I shuddered, imagining the situation had I landed square on it.

“My, my, what do we have here?

A fair morning to you, Keiichi-san. Aren't we a lively one this morning~!”

Still sprawled in an awkward position, I was greeted by a mocking voice.

“That was a step up from your usual traps, Satoko!!”

“I haven't the faintest idea what you mean.

You're quite unlucky this morning.”

“You little~...!!

...

...

...Owowow…”

It seemed I'd inadvertently sprained my back a little when I'd landed.

...Better than landing on that inkstone.

A small hand gently rubbed my head.

“...Pain, pain, go away.”

The small, dainty hand continued to gently stroke my head.

“...You didn't sprain your back or anything, did you...?

If you rub it like this, the pain disappears…”

I thought about asking how rubbing my head would help my back, but I didn't.

It's not so much about what you actually do, it's the thought that counts.

“Y... Yeah, thanks Rika-chan. The pain's going away now.”

“Yay~! ...Rika-chan! Good mor~ning!”

“...Good morning to you, Rena.

A good morning to all.”

Rika-chan greeted each of us with an adorable little bow.

It was infectious. Rena, Mion, and I all bowed back.

“You're such a good kid, Rika-chan...

So much better than Satoko...!”

I glared over in her direction. Satoko was whistling while rather deliberately trying to avoid eye contact.

“I am the very model of a good girl.”

“A good girl wouldn't set those nasty traps!”

“Nothing but lies and slander!”

“Exactly what proof—

...Uwah!”

I picked up Satoko by the back of her collar.

She looks like a misbehaved cat when I do this.

But a cat wouldn't be setting traps.

...She's much harder to deal with!!

“I-M S-O-R-R-Y.

Try saying that.

If you won't say it...!”

I cocked my index finger on my thumb, letting it tremble as I brought it closer to Satoko's forehead.

“I-I'm against violence!!

You don't even have any proof!!”

“Just so you know, my forehead flick really hurts.

It can split plywood right in half!”

“Eeeeeeeek...!!!!

Stop! Get away from me, you beast~!!!”

“Don't say that in a way people will misunderstand!!”

A small hand tugged on the back of my shirt.

“...She's been lonely since you were gone for two days.”

...Rika-chan really is just so...

How could I do anything more after being told that?

I gently released my grip on Satoko, who at this point was on the verge of tears. She still had her eyes clamped shut as she braced herself for the forehead flick.

“...U-Uwaaaaaaa...hnn!!

It doesn't bother me!!

Uwaaaaahn!”

“...You mustn't cry, Satoko.

Keep on fighting,

yeah.”

Rika gently petted the head of her prankster friend.

You would never guess those two are the same age.

I think Satoko could learn a thing or a million from Rika-chan.

“...Next time, set an even more amazing trap.”

...Waiiit a minute...

As she observed the scene, Rena's expression grew ecstatic as she began to swoon.

“...Hao~... Satoko-chan is crying…

Sho kyute…”

“You can't take them home.”

“...Huu!

...But, but... they're sho kyute?”

“You can't, no matter how 'kyute' they are.”

“But... just for a bit... is fine?

Is fine?”

Rena kept a cutesy face even as outrageous ideas spewed from her mouth...

According to Mion... Rena is ridiculously weak to cute things and always tries to take them home.

Object or person...!

“Stealing is bad, but abducting people is even worse.

Give it up.”

“Then I can just look. Just looking...

that should be fine, right? Right?”

Rena swooned over Satoko's crying form.

If a girl ever goes missing in Hinamizawa, I'll be forced to turn Rena in to the authorities.

Forgive me, Rena.

I'll be sure to bring you care packages when they put you away!

“The teacher's coming.

Quickly, clean everything up!

Satoko! That inkstone is yours, right?”

Just from Mion's single statement, the entire mood of the room shifted back to normal.

The inkstone was bad, but the thumbtacks stuck to the door handle were an even bigger problem!

I pulled the tape off carefully, making sure not to skewer myself.

Even though Satoko was the one who set it up, everyone had to pick up after her.

By the time the teacher entered the room, the bedlam from before had been neatly tidied up.

Ahahaha, we made it in time!

“Rise, attention!”

Mion gave out the morning commands.

It's difficult being the teacher for all these different grades in one classroom.

She has to teach something different to each one.

But naturally she ends up spending all her time with the younger kids.

Rena and Mion, being in the highest grade in the class, end up mostly doing self-study.

They even end up helping teach the younger kids, so it seems like they can never get to their own studies.

They're actually way behind where my studies have progressed to.

As a result, I'm pretty much taking over for the teacher and helping Rena and Mion with their studies.

“You're a pretty good teacher, Keiichi-kun.

Easy to understand.”

Rena took a breather after finishing highlighting an important section.

“Teaching is making me lose confidence.

It makes me aware of how shallow my understanding of the subject is.

They say that to teach someone something, you need to understand it backwards and forwards.”

“So while you're teaching us, you're getting in your own practice.”

“In contrast, this person over here is quite laissez-faire about things.”

For one, isn't she supposed to be in a higher grade than me!?

“Look Mion, this is for your own good.

If you don't take this seriously there'll be trouble later on.

With these marks…”

“It's not like I'm aiming to go on to a prestigious school.

I'll be fine as long as I pick up what I need to know for the entrance exams a little at a time!”

Her staunch defiance was really something else.

This was a different type of relaxed than somebody who already knew what was going to be on the entrance exams.

“Mii-chan, Keiichi-kun is doing his best to teach us.

We need to try hard, too.”

“You're such a good and honest kid, Rena.

I'll make sure you guys get accepted into a good school.”

“...Wh-Wha...

Th-Thanks so much…”

“Especially you, Rena.

Private lessons... just the two of us.”

“...Pr-

...Private...le-

lessons…”

A puff of smoke shaped like a halo...

Popped out of Rena's head.

Exactly what kind of private lesson is she fantasizing about that's making her turn so red...?

I'd like to hear the play-by-play about that next time.

While Mion was flipping through her vocabulary flash cards, she threw out a casual question.

“So, in the city, do you have to study this much?”

“If you don't know at least this much you can't get into university.”

“So you study just to get into a university?”

“Well...

Yeah, basically.

While knowing that this stuff won't ever come in handy in the future.”

“Out here, you can get into university as long as your attendance is good enough.”

“...R-Really...!?”

Study = Entrance Exams. Having that basic law of the universe so easily overturned sent me into a state of shock.

“That is right.

There aren't really enough people around here to warrant weeding them out with an exam.

If anyone can get into university, then there's no need to be all uptight about this stuff, right?”

“...Well, that's true... but you should at least know stuff that's common knowledge…”

“This old geezer thinks that, instead of wasting time studying pointlessly, you should be spending your precious teen years doing more meaningful things.”

It was too profound of a statement to simply laugh off.

But since it was Mion, it probably didn't actually have that deep of a meaning.

In place of a chime, the sound of the principal waving a hand bell drifted through the classroom.

“Kei-chan, we're done! We're done!

It's our wonderful lunch time!”

In a complete 180 from her unmotivated state, Mion gave the commands that signaled the end of the morning period.

“...Keiichi-kun, let's have lunch.☆”

I might have been making a very troubled face.

Rena smiled brightly at me.

“Awright!

Let's eat!”

There seemed to be different cliques, even within the class.

Most of them were divided up by gender and age, but our group was different.

Our ages were different and we had both boys and girls.

But we weren't reserved around each other.

This level of openness makes a transfer student like me pretty happy.

Rena and Mion pushed their desks together so they were facing each other.

At the same time, Satoko and Rika-chan were slowly lugging their desks over as well.

“Keiichi-kun, hurry, hurry!”

Rena waved her chopsticks in an unrefined manner, trying to hurry me along.

Unless everyone was together, they wouldn't even open their lunch boxes.

“Keiichi-san's lunch box is most assuredly filled with nothing but bread crusts like some sort of destitute plebeian~!

Why don't you just show it to us? Come now!”

Even though Satoko was hurling insults at me, she still wouldn't open the lid to her lunch box until I was there.

I pulled out my lunch box swiftly and dragged my chair over to join the circle.

“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting!”

“...Well then, Representative Mii, please give the signal to start!”

At first, this was kinda embarrassing, but I got used to it pretty fast.

At this point, I probably wouldn't even open my own lunch box if someone else was too slow.

Our ages and genders may have all been different, but we were all friends.

“Let's eat!!”

The sound of our little five-part chorus echoed beautifully throughout the classroom.

Really, though, I've gotten pretty used to this group made up of all girls.

Of course there are other boys in the class, but they were a lot younger, so they were scared to approach me.

Well, that's to be expected.

Younger boys just see older boys as scary.

Compare that to girls... Well, at least these girls aren't picky.

We put all the side dishes in the middle where everybody was free to pick at them.

I thought girls would mind sharing a meal with a guy, so I was a bit flustered joining in. However, Mion noticed that and teased me quite a bit.

As the fruit of my efforts(?), I can now reach over and take sides from anybody's lunch.

“My, my. Isn't Sir Keiichi's lunch extravagant today?”

“My, my, isn't Madam Satoko's lunch extravagant as well?”

The stewed stuff has a nice look to it, rather trendy.

Buying into the fight that Satoko was starting, our chopsticks locked in a cross-counter, stabbing into each other's lunch.

“My, how delicious!

Oh, this taro is good.”

“The stewed stuff is good too, even cold!”

After seeing my happy face, Rika-chan's expression broke into a little smile.

“...I saved some from dinner last night.”

By the way, Satoko and Rika-chan's lunches are always the same.

It seems that Rika-chan makes it for both of them every day.

“Rika-chan made this too?

...These taste like Mom's home cooking!”

I was honestly impressed.

The carrot rosettes weren't from a mold; they were done by hand with a knife.

That's not easy to do.

I guess Rika-chan's just good at this sort of thing.

She's really good at sewing, laundry, and stuff like that.

Amazing, right?

Amazing!

Rika is quite exceptional in many ways.

“Ohhohohoho!

That's nothing for you to boast about!”

“...Rena's actually better at cooking than I am.”

“...Huh,

ah,

...well... you know.☆”

It seemed that the topic of conversation switched to Rena when she wasn't expecting it, making her blush and trip over her words.

Rena's lunch really was the star of the table.

Not only did it look good, it tasted good!

Everyone else pulled from Rena's lunch box constantly.

“Everyone liked this one so much before, so I made a lot this time.

...It's good, I hope?

...I hope?”

“It's got high marks from me!”

“Ah, Mion, you're taking too much!”

Knocking Mion's chopsticks aside, I reached out, trying to secure my own portion. Satoko and Rika-chan reached over at the same time and a struggle ensued.

Everyone shoveled in mouthful after mouthful while praising it, and Rena's lunch box was soon empty.

It was kinda bad that no one thought to leave any for Rena.

But Rena seemed rather satisfied as she looked on.

“How did you like it? Isn't Rena-san an extremely good cook too?

Quite different from Keiichi-san!”

“I said that's nothing for you to boast about!”

“You're not much different from Kei-chan, Satoko.

Can you tell the difference between broccoli and cauliflower yet?”

Satoko's face went pale.

“...Hey, hey. Even I can tell the difference between broccoli and cauliflower, you know?

O-Of course I can!

...I really can!”

It's really hard for her to lie.

“Keiichi-kun, both taste good when they're boiled and topped with mayo, right?”

“You shouldn't be picking on her…”

“Mii-chan too!”

Rena hurriedly tried to follow up, but Mion laughed haughtily as she drew closer to Satoko.

“Well, well, just pretend it's a little home-ec lesson.

...Now then, Satoko...

What's this?”

Mion lifted up her chopsticks. Between them was a piece of green stuff wrapped in bacon.

“...But that's... asparag...mngh.”

Mion made eye contact with me and within .3 seconds, I had Rika-chan's mouth covered.

Holding a piece of bacon-wrapped asparagus and giving her two choices... She's pretty terrible.

“Uum, well!

Uhh...

The yellow one is cauliflower... No, wait... the green one is cauliflower…”

“So which!? Hmm?”

“Probably... the yellow one is broccoli and the blue one is cauliflower...

But the green one is...

um...

uu…”

“Do you really know which is which? How about you just give up~?”

I'd expect no less from the class representative.

The oldest.

The way she drives people into a corner just shows how much experience she has.

This is just a hunch, but being brought into the Sonozaki household must be quite the ordeal...

“I do know...!

I really do!!”

“Then answer the question!”

“...I know... I know...

Uwaaaaaahn!!”

She finally broke down and started crying.

When she acts like this, she actually starts to seem her age.

“...Ha...

Hao~... K-Khyuute…”

Rena entered a state of euphoria as Satoko bawled her eyes out.

Rena was in a state of bliss as she rubbed her cheek against Satoko's head and smothered her.

...Really... a very content face.

One that wouldn't care if the world ended right then—it was that kind of smile.

“Rena, Rena~!

MiiMii is picking on me-!

Uwaaaaahn!!”

“Khyute khyute...!

It's okay, Rena-oneechan will take care of all those bad people who tease my little sister!”

FWISH BOOF BAM!!

It was like a flash of lightning.

“...What...

was that...

just now...?”

Both of Rena's fists shot out at supersonic speeds, striking Mion and me squarely in our faces.

Before we knew it, Mion and I were sprawled spread-eagle on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with matching welts on our faces...

“...This is the first time you've gotten one, right?

...Today... she went easy on us…”

“...E-Easy... You mean, there's something harder than this...?”

With that, Mion and I both slumped our heads back to the floor in unison.

From now on, I'll be careful when I'm within striking distance of Rena...

“See, Satoko-chan? I took care of them.

...Mmm, khyute~!

I wanna take you home~!”

Making sure Rena couldn't see it, Satoko stuck her tongue out at us.

Tsk, damn it all~! Using Rena like a puppet!!

Rika-chan massaged our bruises without saying a word...

No matter what the day had held, the last school bell always came too soon.

Our shadows stretched off into the distance.

“Hey, Keiichi-kun. Tomorrow, do you have plans or anything...

...or anything?”

“Huh...?”

It was such a direct question from Rena I inadvertently blushed.

I-If it was for a date, then wouldn't you do it more subtly??

Rena saw me lost for words and realized that I'd misunderstood, and turned red as well.

“...Uh, ...ah, ...N-No, ...I didn't mean it like that... you see...!”

So apparently that wasn't what she meant.

But since it's always fun when Rena's in a panic, I went along with it a little.

“Oh, really... So... it wasn't meant that way…”

“Huh...!? Huuh!?”

Playing it up, I slumped my shoulders, feigning dejection.

“...K-Keiichi-kun, why are you so disappointed, why?

Why!?

...Mii-chaaan!”

“...Pfft.

Aahahahahahaha!!”

Unable to hold it in any longer, Mion slapped me on the back.

“I see! This old geezer never knew you could push her buttons like that.

Wahahahaha!!!”

“...Huh? ...Huh? What? What!? What is it!?”

Mion was rolling on the floor clutching her stomach while Rena flailed around, completely bewildered.

I couldn't help but start laughing as well. Feeling just a bit guilty, I ruffled Rena's hair.

“Kidding. Sorry, it was a joke... That was my fault.”

She really is a cute one.

“...Huh? ...Huh? ...A joke? Since when!? Since when!?”

“Huh, ah... about halfway through.”

“...Halfwaaay?”

“So Kei-chan, that means you weren't acting when you blushed at the start?”

“...Huh...? ...Th-That means...?”

It was only a momentary lapse, but there was no way Mion would let such a delectable detail slip by her.

“Uh, well, you see…”

Saying anything more was also a bad idea...

In my bewildered state, I slipped further into an unfavorable position.

After that, Mion continued to tease me about it for a while...

“...So, why were you asking if I'm free tomorrow, Rena?”

“Huh...? Oh... What were we talking about...?”

It had been so long that Rena had forgotten. That's how long Mion had teased me.

“It's just, Kei-chan... you probably can't find your way around Hinamizawa by yourself yet, can you?”

That was true.

I hate to say it, but if you blindfolded me and spun me around three times like we're playing pin the tail on the donkey, I wouldn't be able to tell up from down here.

“...Yeah. I don't think I know how to get anywhere besides back and forth from school.”

“Yes, yes. So you see, tomorrow, we were thinking that Mii-chan and I could escort you through Hinamizawa and show you around…”

That would be a godsend. Frankly, I was happy about the offer.

“You'll come of course, right?”

“If I'm free.”

“You're being invited by a girl, you know!?”

“If I'm free.”

“You're probably free anyways.”

“If I'm free.”

I was being stubborn so as not to give a clear yes or no.

Even though I thought it was a godsend, I'm too much of a scamp to say so up front.

“...Keiichi-kun... you're not free, perhaps?

...Perhaps?”

While Mion and I had our rather sour back-and-forth, Rena peeked over at me hesitantly.

Figuring I'd been a bit too rough on her, I just gave in.

“...Sorry. Forgive me. I apologize.

I'm free.”

“...Great!”

The trepidation disappeared from Rena's face as it blossomed into a smile.

“Hey now, hey now!

Seems like there's quite a difference between how cold you are to me compared to Rena, isn't there!?”

It seems Mion didn't care for how rude I was to her, compared to how quickly I agreed with Rena.

But her being annoyed was very interesting.

So I pushed Rena forward, speeding up our pace to leave Mion behind.

“Let's go, Rena.

Maybe it should just be the two of us tomorrow, leave grumpy ol' Mion behind.”

“...Huh,

woah...

If Keiichi-kun... is okay with that, then…”

“I'm the one who came up with the idea to take him around~!!

Don't ignore me, Keiichi Maebara!!”

“It'd be great if the two of us could go on a picnic together! Should we bring a basket, Rena?”

“...I-If we're bringing a basket...

I'll...

make all the food, maybe...

Maybe!”

“Don't you ignore me too, Rena! I'll tell everyone that you two disappeared into the hotel district together!”

“Well then... I'm going home right now to start making it...!

Tomorrow is going to be so fun~! Later Keiichi-kun, Mii-chan! Bye!”

Rena bounded off like she was walking on the moon.

After the dust settled, all that was left was me standing next to Mion sprawled out on the ground. There was a welt on her face.

“...Are you all right...?

There was over two meters between you guys…”

“...S... Since you came, they've become sharper...

This old geezer's body can't handle it…”

“...Maybe it'd be easier if you stopped saying stuff that makes Rena want to hit you…

Or else this will end up being Mion's Slapstick Comedy Hour.

If that happened, the results might be fatal...

Don't feel bad, Mion. You're probably the only one who can dodge her jabs!”

“...It felt like it was her knee, though...

...Could it be that we were hanging around with an unrivaled martial arts master?

Maybe someday we'll see her debut in an extreme contact sport…”

“You can't lose to Rena! You need to train up and have a rematch!”

“Kei...

Kei-chan, you should...

This old geezer will root for you…”

Mion and I reaffirmed our determination to discover a way to counter Rena's infallible technique...

[separatist-apologist]

Exile

We always walked a very thin line

Chapter 11: I Want To Be Known For My Hits, Not Just My Misses

Read: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | AO3

Cassian’s boots crunched against thick snow. Nesta kept her eyes on the snow capped mountain peaks in the distance, terrified to really look at Cassian. Something was happening between them, something intense and terrifying and everytime they really looked at the other, things devolved into physical touching. She needed to ask him but was too afraid so Nesta threw herself into training and when she couldn’t work out she went to the library to bother the priestesses with their work. She was practically working among the shelves, returning books and generally minding her own business.

Not today. Cassian had offered to take her to Windhaven and Nesta had leapt at the chance, both interested in seeing a part of the world that had once been off limits to her and because it gave her the opportunity to check Cassian’s ass out when he walked.

If Cassian knew, he was smart enough to keep it to himself. He gestured towards a little shop just outside a village road. “Do you want to wait here?” He asked, tucking a piece of windswept hair from his tanned face.

“I can’t go with you?” She asked, grateful the howling wind hid some of the breathlessness in her tone.

“Probably shouldn’t,” he admitted, as though bringing her entirely was a bad idea and he hadn’t been able to help himself. “I think you’ll like the shop, though…you could pick some things out?”

Nesta flushed. “I don’t have any money.”

Cassian’s cheeks reddened. “Oh fuck. Here,” he said quickly, fishing coins from his pockets and pressing them into her gloved hand. “If you need more, tell Emerie…she’ll know I’m good for it.”

Nesta had never held so much gold in her life. She looked down at the coins, trembling slightly with the ease he’d just handed them over. As if it all meant nothing. Nesta looked back up but Cassian was already trudging away, wings tucked in tight against his body. Clutching the coins—proof that whatever she felt, Cassian felt it too—Nesta pulled open the wooden door of the shop. A bell jangled merrily, drawing an Illyrian woman from behind a counter. She was lovely, easily the most beautiful woman Nesta had seen since she’d arrived. Heavy, dark hair tumbled around a flawless face. Nesta didn’t think she’d ever seen such a pretty pair of dark eyes in her life and for a moment she wondered if she ought to be jealous of Emerie.

Emerie seemed taken aback, her wings tightening over her shoulders as she stared just as openly at Nesta as Nesta did to her.

“You’re a human,” Emerie finally said, as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Oh right,” Nesta breathed, relieved that Emerie’s only issue was seeing a human. “Yeah, I am.”

“I’ve never seen one of you,” Emerie admitted, eyes sparkling. “Slavery has been outlawed longer than I’ve been alive.”

“Not everywhere,” Nesta replied, wondering how Rhysand managed to reconcile his own policies with the fact that he’d outright purchased two women.

“Cassian found you?” Emerie pressed and Nesta decided it was best not to give all the information.

“Yes,” she lied, boots leaving wet marks on Emerie’s immaculate floor. Emerie wrinkled her nose as Nesta got closer.

“You smell like him.”

“Is that bad?” Nesta asked, picking up a jar from a nearby table.

“That depends on if you like fucking him or not,” Emerie replied without an ounce of embarrassment. Nesta held the jar of cinnamon closer to her body, setting it on the counter.

“I uh…probably shouldn’t like it.”

“Well, mates can’t help themselves, can they?” Emerie sniffed, reaching behind her for a bag of tea.

Mates? “Uh…they actually don’t,” Nesta replied, snatching some cardamon and sliding it to the counter, too. “Everyone has been really cagey about the whole mate thing.”

Emerie snorted. “That doesn’t surprise me. The important thing to know is you don’t offer him any food unless you’re sure you want to be with him for the rest of your life…his life, too, maybe…I’m not sure how it works for humans.”

“Right, because it binds us,” Nesta guessed with more confidence than she felt. Emerie nodded her confirmation.

“They can be rejected, too. I don’t know if he’s told you that but you don’t have to accept the bond.”

“And the bond…you’re sure?” Nesta asked, unsure how to even phrase that. Emerie looked up at Nesta again, bagging some more tea she clearly meant to sell.

“They have a scent. Yours is…rough, I think because you’re human but its there. Underneath all the Cassain, anyway. I assume you can feel it and that’s why you’re walking around so nervously.”

Nesta slid coins across the counter, unsure how many Emerie needed. “I just don’t understand it well. Maybe you could come by the house sometime? I don’t have a lot of friends…”

“I can’t fly,” Emerie said tightly, some of her amusement fading. Nesta opened her mouth to reply that Cassian would bring her if she wanted, that Nesta knew he would do that for her if she asked, when the door jangled again and Cassian himself stepped inside.

“Ready?” He asked, eyeing the bag on the counter. Emerie pushed it forward, winked at Nesta, and then slid all the coins towards herself.

“Remember what I told you,” Emerie murmured, winking sweetly. Cassian held open the shop door, letting cold wind battle the warm air.

“What did she tell you?” Cassian asked the moment the door slammed behind him. Nesta looked up at him, heart pounding. Would he lie to her?

“If I asked you to bring her to the house, would you?” She asked him instead, needing confirmation that Cassian wouldn’t punish her. He nodded.

“Of course. Did you invite her to train?”

She hadn’t, but maybe she should have. Maybe she should have invited Gwyn, too…all the priestesses, even, if they wanted to. Cassian was clearly doing some math in his head, trying to work out how he’d train more than just her but Nesta had moved on.

“Are we mates?” She asked, surprised when Cassian tripped face first in the snow.

“What did you say?” He asked, wiping his face beneath one of his massive hands. Nesta trembled beneath the cold as Cassian came closer, his muscular body towering over her.

“Are we?” She asked, wishing she understood the concept better. “Is there something…are we tied together?”

His expression shifted, betraying him. Hazel eyes became desperate, his features softening. “Yes.”

“How long have you known?” She asked, wishing she could hate him in that moment. What was mates but a different kind of ownership? Could she leave him? Would he let her?

He shook his head. “I felt pulled to you the moment I saw you,” Cassian admitted desperately, lurching towards her. “I couldn’t explain it just…I couldn’t leave you there.” “And my sisters?” She asked, thinking of how possessive Rhysand was with Feyre and how hard it had been to get Elain back. Cassian bit his bottom lip.

“I don’t know. Maybe Feyre…I don’t know about Elain. I hope not for Elain.”

“But for us…”

Cassian brushed his knuckles over her cheek before sinking to his knees in the snow. “But for us.”

“What does this mean?” She asked, taken aback by the man kneeling before her. Cassian shook his head.

“Whatever you want. Nothing. Everything. I…You’re human and I didn’t know this was even a possibility.”

“Do you own me?” She asked, confessing her true fear in that moment. Cassian shook his head.

“We belong to each other,” he told her desperately.

“Stand up, Cassian,” Nesta murmured, unable to do this so out in the open. She wasn’t sure she could do it at all but certainly not like this. She wanted to escape back to the library and read about mates and bonds and everything before

“Take me home.”

**

Elain sat cross-legged in the grass, a fox mask hiding her features. She was tipsy, her throat raw from laughter. Lucien, utterly drunk, danced in wild circles around a huge bonfire, one arm slung over a lesser Fae woman who laughed loudly. Elain had tapped out around midnight, her legs aching. She’d never seen Lucien so care-free, so filled with joy. He was beautiful here, body illuminated by the firelight.

As if aware she stared, Lucien turned, spinning his partner away so he could stumble towards her. Lucien grabbed her, dragging her to the ground with him, laughing as he did. Elain could feel the heat radiating from beneath his fine tunic, tucking her head beneath his chin.

“Are you having fun?” He asked just a touch too loud. She pressed a kiss to his neck.

“I am,” she agreed, surprised to find she was disappointed they would be leaving in the morning. If she could, she might have begged him to stay another day, a week…forever. Lucien brushed a piece of hair from her face.

“You like me,” he declared, attempting to sit up. Elain shoved him back to the ground, unable to be truly annoyed.

“You’re wrong. I hate you.”

He laughed again, the sound rich and charming. “Ah, sweetheart. You want to hate me, but you can’t.”

That was true. Lucien had somehow become her friend, despite the mutual attraction that existed between them. She wondered when that had happened or even how. Lucien didn’t seem upset at the notion at all. Far from it, Lucien was still smiling, his body relaxed. Elain rolled on her stomach to look down at him, her heart speeding when he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Where did you come from?” He asked her, thumb caressing her cheek. She took a breath but Lucien pressed a finger to her lips. “No smart ass comments. Not tonight.”

Elain pulled off her mask with a grin. “What then, tonight?”

Lucien turned his head, still laying in the grass. “Shall we see if we can summon the dead?”

“I don’t believe you want to meet a ghost,” Elain replied, sliding her hand in his. She turned her own head upwards, watching the smoke from the bonfire melt into the violet night sky just overhead. It would have been chilly had it not been for the roar of the fire and Lucien’s magic that kept the air warm whenever he was near.

“I don’t,” Lucien replied, squeezing her fingers. “I did when I was young though. I used to run through the forests hoping to meet some long-dead relative.”

“Did you ever?”

He chuckled. “No. Or, if I did they never told me. I know better than to go looking for the dead now. It’s said they try and take the place of the living.”

“So you could be a ghost and I’d never know,” Elain teased. Lucien smiled again.

“I like to think a ghost couldn’t take you to bed like I’m about to,” he murmured, rolling to his side, head propped on his fist.

“What if I don’t want to sleep with you tonight?” She asked, her body already warming at the thought of his hands on her. Lucien quirked his eyebrows.

“I don’t believe you,” he teased, climbing to his knees. He extended a hand and Elain accepted, letting him pull her to her feet. He didn’t let go of her hand as they walked and Elain didn’t pull away. It was a strange thing, to be happy with him in this place she’d once been so afraid of. She’d heard stories growing up about people captured that grew to love their captors, that turned their backs on their families to stay. Was that what was happening to her? She waited until they were back inside the cabin, a good walk in the dark from the still visible bonfire in the distance, to ask, “Have you heard anything about my sisters?” Lucien turned to look at her. “I know they’re alive,” he responded easily. “The High Lord is still trying to purchase you.”

That terrified Elain more than anything else. She tightened her grip on Lucien’s hand. “Are you going to?”

“I told you I wouldn’t,” he replied easily, though she saw a hint of anger edging his words. “You’re not leaving Autumn.”

Relief flooded through Elain before she could convince herself she was upset. Glancing upwards, she realized Lucien had seen it, too. He knew she wanted to stay, knew her resolve was fading. Perhaps this was to be her lot in life. His slave, to be used in one way or the other.

Lucien turned a golden key protruding from the lock in his bedroom, back pressed to the gold. “Has my mother promised to free you yet?” He asked, his chest rising and falling rapidly as though the words hurt to say.

“Yes,” she replied, deciding there was no point in lying to him. She wasn’t certain she could anymore, not when he was looking at her like she hung the moon.

Lucien nodded. “It’s unfair to ask but…wait. Please?”

Wait? “For what?” She replied incredulously. Would he wait if their positions were reversed? While she danced and laid about and he mopped up blood. Elain opened her mouth to tell him he was selfish but Lucien cut her off.

“Eris is working to reunite you with your sisters. You…the three of you could leave together.”

Elain froze. “Leave where?”

They certainly couldn’t go back to their village.

He walked to her, smoothing the hair from her face. “You could live in Day Court. Or Summer but Spring has a harder time raiding the Day Court settlements.”

“Can you just…can you just do that?” She asked. After all, it had been Eris who had handed the coins for her. Surely not just anyone could set her free.

Lucien shrugged. “I keep telling you I can do whatever I want and you keep dismissing me.”

“Why? Why would you just…” Why would you let me go? Why were her feelings hurt that it seemed so easy for him?

Lucien ran his fingers over her bottom lip. “War is coming, little human. Eventually, Beron will be forced to let you go. I want to see you again. I want to know you’re safe.”

She wished, in that moment, that he would have lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. She would have let him, would have kissed him back until he had her breathless and naked. She would have done all the things she’d always sworn she wouldn’t–would have begged him to keep touching her, would have fallen to his feet and professed profound feeling.

He ran his knuckles over her skin, his expression soft. “I’m so drunk,” he said instead, offering her a lopsided smile. “Read to me?” “You can’t read to yourself?” She teased, watching Lucien clumsily divest himself of his clothing. She giggled when he nearly tripped face first over his own boots, utterly naked.

“I think we both know who is the competent one in this relationship,” Lucien replied, crawling into the bed. “I can just barely write my own name.”

“It’s all the liquor, I think,” Elain replied, choosing a book with a red spine from one of the shelves across the room. She climbed into bed beside Lucien, laughing wildly when he reached for her. Somewhere in the tussle, the book was flung to the floor though Elain could do little more than laugh against his fingers pressed to the sensitive skin of her ribcage.

“If you wanted me to undress, you could have said,” Elain gasped, managing to escape him at the end of the bed. She was in nothing but a thin shift and judging by the feline smile on Lucien’s face, he planned to help her out of it.

“I like the sound of your laugh,” he admitted, his cheeks red. He beckoned for her to come back to him and Elain did, legs sliding against the smooth sheets just beneath. She flung her body halfway off the bed for the book, pleased when his hand shot out for her waist, preventing her from falling off the side.

“Do you still want me to read?” Elain asked, settling beside him into the crook of his arm. She opened the cover just in time for Lucien to pluck it from her and fling it across the room.

“You know what I want,” Lucien replied, dipping beneath the blanket. Elain sighed at the feel of his breath against her thigh.

How had they gotten here?

How did she stay?

[bitter-sweet-coffee]

Sonic Twitter Takeover fic prompt? Well, here you go:

Their breath was fogging up the glass. The wind which expelled from their lungs could not pierce that invisible barrier, so it clouded instead. How do pilots steer through clouds? Did it hurt when they flew through them?

Cotton candy is sticky, and it smells like blood.

"I don't think this is going to work Maria, we never heard back from them," the hedgehog mumbled, fidgeting with the girl's robin-coloured sleeve that hung from her stiff arm. Despite his concern, Shadow couldn't suppress the glimmer in his eye as he watched his sister tidy up the control panel that she had been toying with.

Maria simply laughed and shook her head, and faded gold strands of hair unwound from her scalp. The cleaning staff was always puzzled that the creature didn't shed, but the human girl manifested tumbleweeds that plagued the barren ARK like it was the wild west.

"They communicate with the planet all the time Shadow, it's definitely possible! I just had to rig this so it could transmit anywhere, and our shuttle is arriving tonight so we'll know for sure if it worked," she explained, before elaborating in words that her alien companion couldn't follow.

Instead of asking questions, he simply nodded as his mind wandered elsewhere. He would go on to regret this in about 50 years though, when his memories of her become sparse.

Maria continued to cover up their tracks, stifling a laugh at the visibly inattentive Shadow. She would never tease him for his lapses in focus, aware of how overworked the poor hedgehog was. "Let him rest," she had insisted with the project coordinators and grandfather but they seemed unconcerned.

"It's the Ultimate Lifeform, if it needs rest then the specimen can always withdraw and accept its termination," someone had told her. The cuts on her palm had yet to heal from the wrath of her jagged fingernails, and the insides of her cheeks were raw as always.

They'd leave, they just had to be patient.

Before Shadow could open his mouth to change the topic to something more comprehensible, an alarm began blaring from the intercom, startling the hedgehog into his sister's side. He was never a fan of loud noises, but Maria's hands were already over his ears— they were used to this series of events.

Just another few days weeks months never before they could get the hell away from this.

Maria was about to shut the panel off and deal with the intercom, but a rhythmic beeping was being transmitted that required her attention, head snapping back down to the source.

Unable to write things since her hands were preoccupied with muffling the shuttle alarm, the girl began tapping on Shadow's forehead, which made the hedgehog wrinkle his nose and squirm.

"Focus on this instead, I need you to double check with me, okay?" Maria whispered calmly, pulling Shadow a little closer to her side.

He did as she instructed and let the morse code beeping merge with her fingertips, the sound of the alarm fading away. When the transmission ended, the alarm truly was gone.

"No fucking way... it worked!!!" Maria cheered, scooping Shadow up and swinging him around, gripping him tight so he didn't get flung across the room like last time.

The hedgehog yelped from the sudden movement but it eventually devolved into giggling, his fists ramming into her back as he shook with laughter.

Shadow eventually regulated his amusement and pulled back to look at the girl, expression faltering when he saw the strain in her smile, eyes glazed. He quickly let go and landed on his feet, steadying Maria as best he could.

"You're not supposed to move that much Mar," he reminded, but she was a Robotnik after all— the stubbornness was genetic.

Maria shrugged and began stumbling out to the hallway, headed for the first floor; "Do you want your pizza or not? C'mon, I want to try cheese and the best way to have it is when it's still stringy!" she cheered, doing her best to mask the whistling from her lungs with her heavy footsteps.

When the hedgehog didn't budge, she looked back with a smug grin, "I know you're curious what crust tastes like, you're not subtle... I see you looking up toasters in the catalogue. If you want the crunch, then follow me, okay?"

Rolling his eyes and growling in defeat, Shadow followed the girl as best he could, their bare feet slapping the ground hard enough to warrant echoes.

Arriving at the main deck, the two snuck their way onto the shuttle that just arrived, taking note of the uncanny box that was haphazardly thrown on top of the better preserved food shipments.

The ARK had its own garden, so produce was never difficult to obtain. Meat seldom lasted and dairy was uncommon, so what was sent up would be primarily starches and other low-moisture foods for budget reasons.

Pepperoni pizza however, was not a dry, meatless, dairy free starch. However, this didn't stop the pair from contacting GUN before the food shuttle left to demand a pizza.

Shadow still worries about the poor intern that was spammed with morse code transmissions until they did what was instructed by the mad scientist and her loyal henchhog. They probably got fired, but that means they got away from GUN, so he considers it an improvement.

Maria snatched the box and grabbed Shadow's hand, ducking behind the pallet of saltine crackers; "Can you chaos control us back to my room?" she whispered, as the unloading team approached their hiding spot.

"I um, well I'm still not good at taking other people, are you sure it's safe?" the hedgehog asked warily, pulling away to adjust his inhibitors.

The girl shrugged, grabbing Shadow's hands back with her free one, "Let's go."

He nodded firmly, and with a quiet chaos control, they were safely pulled away from the crime scene and back in Maria's room, flopping directly onto her bed.

Shadow beamed at his success, but his sister was too busy melting into her comforter with glee, sighing.

She wasn't usually allowed in her room since it wasn't sterile enough according to her doctor. While usually kept immaculately, the duo would leave behind a never-ending generator of crumbs on that bed.

Shadow thinks they're still there today, but he won't go check. He hasn't been back in that room since.

After stuffing themselves with the foreign food, the siblings learned an important lesson on introducing new ingredients into their diet, and how having multiple things you're not supposed to eat at all or in large quantities... has unsatisfactory results.

"Do you think we shouldn't have done this?" Maria groaned, sprawled out and hanging halfway off her bed. Shadow was face first on the floor below her, and merely offered a pathetic thumbs up.

The girl giggled weakly, swallowing the fear that this would cause internal bleeding, and worried that if she cracked for just a second, the fun would be over and she'd be put in isolation again.

Fortunately, this wouldn't be the case, though she'd still bleed a week later as bullets were fired into her back.

"I'm sorry I asked for this, now we feel like shit," Shadow groaned, using his limited strength to roll over and stare up at Maria, a pained expression on his face.

The girl shook her head; "We've been so patient this whole time, what's the harm in waiting a little less for something?" She shifted back towards the wall and patted the open space on her bed, prompting Shadow to join her.

Smiling, the hedgehog crawled up and wiggled under the weighted blanket, sighing into Maria's lavender-scented pillow as she placed a hand in his quills, scratching gently behind his ears.

"Even if we feel gross now, we still had fun, and the pizza tasted good! Even if we're a bit sick now, it proves that sometimes waiting pays off," Maria assured, looking down at her hedgehog as he began to drift off.

The Ultimate Lifeform may have been too tired to say anything back, but both of them knew he agreed— they were used to waiting for freedom anyways.

"So... was it worth it?" Sonic asked, holding his slice of pizza between his fingers like a cigarette.

Shadow eyed his untouched plate, almost tempted by the still stringy mozzarella that he remembered throwing at Maria before remembering that it looked like her entrails.

"Should we keep ordering illegal foods until we can go down there for real?" he asked.

Maria laughed but shook her head, "No, I think we're done for now! We'll be experiencing the planet together soon anyways, I don't want to ruin the surprise. Plus, you never know if this stuff tastes better there, so I don't want to ruin everything with a space bias! We'll just have to wait a little longer, it'll be something to look forward to."

"No," Shadow admitted, "it wasn't worth it."

What he failed to communicate was that it wasn't the fact they did it, but the fact they never did it again.

[inessencedevided]

Wei Wuxian enters the Underworld Chamber with several scrolls clutched in his arms, struggling to keep them all together but he is able to settle them down on a table next to the one that is holding his client with a great clatter. For a moment he entertains himself with thinking what the Second Jade who was known to be very rule abiding would say to his general … everything. He would probably have those straight, black eyebrows furrowed and reprimand him with a single word.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here, hm?”, he offers and sifts through his collection of scrolls from the library of the Lan sect. “Your older brother gave me access to some very interesting scrolls, you know?! Your sect is famous for musical cultivation, he told me that you were on your way to become the best guqin player, close to Lan Yi. Fascinating stuff, this. Inquiry. Talking to the dead through the means of music. Maybe this will help me before I use Empathy. Which is a method I invented.”

He does this a lot, chattering away at people to break the ice. There is not a lot of ice to break because the person he is talking to is dead but it still feels nicer than to be completely quiet. And according to ZewuJun, his brother is still here, so maybe he will feel less alone like this. So he shuffles over to the guqin that seems to have been repaired. There is still some brownish-red residue on the wood and he knows that it only can be one thing. Blood. “Alright. Let’s do this,” he says softly. Carefully, he follows the movements that are described on the page, lets the notes ring out, waits for an answer in the dark.

There is silence for a moment and he is afraid he played so badly that the ghost is somehow offended and doesn’t want to come. But then, suddenly, there is an answer. No unnecessary embellishments, played slowly so he can understand but still so beautiful that he knows who it is. Who it only can be.

Who are you sings the instrument and he makes an excited sound, shuffling even closer. Wei Wuxian he answers, carefully playing out the notes. Your brother. Asked for help. he answers haltingly. It is almost like learning a new language. I go through memories. Am I allowed? There is another moment of silence, then he swears the answer sounds almost surprised. Yes. You may, Wei Wuxian. He giggles and bites his lip. “Call me Wei Ying,” he tells the room before remembering that he should have used the guqin. The instruments sings out, completely unprompted. Wei Ying.

His grin threatens to split his face and he gets up, walking towards the body, taking in the serene face, the inky hair, the creamy skin. He really is a beauty. “Just a moment,” he tells him and pats his hand, walking to the door and calling Lan Xichen in, who comes without any further prompting. “He gave me permission,” Wei Wuxian explains and then hands the sect leader a Clarity Bell, a thank you from Jiang Yanli for helping her sect when it called for it. “Ring this when things get sticky or I do not wake up. It will call me back.”

ZewuJun nods, taking the Bell, settling in, watching them both with a worried expression but Wei Wuxian just smiles and kneels next to the body, taking his hands, noticing how cold and yet soft they are, callouses at their fingertips from playing the guqin. “Lan Wangji,” he whispers. “Show me. Show me what is keeping you here.”

The memories feel like the first snow beneath naked feet, dropping into a body of cold water but also like standing on a mountain and letting the winds rush by. They start with a little boy kneeling in front of a house surrounded by gentians, clad in the same white the whole sect wears. He is six at most and why this memory is shown, Wei Wuxian doesn’t know but he keeps concentrating, diving deeper. He sees a strikingly handsome teenager studying in the library, copying old scrolls, playing quin and sneaking vegetables to the back hills where white bunnies roam. The images flash by, a lecture with disciples from other sects, Wen Chao and his entourage arriving and making a scene.

One moment stands out. The same teenager who must be Lan Wangji catches a young female disciple roaming the back hills, a Wen from the red of her robes. He walks away with her and the scenery shifts. They are in a building that is most likely the home of the sect leader, ZewuJun and his brother who stands next to him, straight-backed and breathtaking. He can hear voices, hears them talking of something Wen Ruohan wants, that he will raze the Cloud Recesses to the ground for it. The Yin Iron. Part of it is hidden away here. They will need to prepare for the worst.

The scene shifts again, to Caiyi and Lan Wangji walking through the busy market, holding his sword in his hand, one hand in a fist behind his back like a proper gentleman. He can hear crying and both of them look for the source of it, Wei Wuxian constricted by the limited sight he has. It is little girl with braided buns, crying heartbreakingly next to a stall with animals made from colourful cloth.

The cultivator with the severe face and the countenance of a remote, snow-capped mountain, kneels next to her and hands her a bunny rabbit made from colourful cloth, just purchased apparently, waiting for her to talk. “I lost my gege,” she sobs and shuffles closer, hugging him, getting his white robes dirty. He does not seem to care, instead looks at her and gently lays a hand on her shoulder. “I have a gege as well. I would be scared if I lost him in the crowd,” he says and oh, his voice. It’s calm and deep, trying to settle the little girl. “Shall we look for him together?”

She sniffles and nods, taking his hand in hers, looking up at him in awe and Wei Wuxian can relate. After just a moment, they have found her big brother and the little girl runs to hug him with a shriek of delight. He can see the corners of Lan Wangji’s mouth tilt up into a soft smile, barely noticeable but it is there. He seems to be content with a job well done.

Another shift. They seem to come quicker now, more talk of the Yin Iron, someone he recognises as Lan Qiren taking stock of their most valuable scriptures, letting it be taken away. It is terribly busy but Lan Wangji is a mountain in a rushing stream, carrying what he can with his impressive arm strength.

Yet another and the Cloud Recesses are burning. The disciples are running, many of them armed, some carrying instruments. Caiyi is in disarray as well, people barricading their homes, locking up their animals. Lan Wangji is making a sweep through town, his immaculate robes already stained with soot. The little girl from before runs towards him and hugs his leg, tearful and scared but she knows she is safe with the young cultivator. He gently pats her head and does the same to her rabbit doll.

Then, his face grows serious and he kneels down to look at her, reaching up and undoing his ribbon that falls into his hands, carefully tying it around her wrist. “Keep this safe. Go and take your brother, your parents and look for a grey mountain with yellow veins. This will give you free passage through the secret entrance. You will be safe,” he tells her gently and gets up. “Look for a man who looks like me but older. Lan Xichen.”

Another shift. This one seems to be the last. Lan Wangji is riddled with arrows, bleeding profusely, staggering but still standing upright. His forehead is bare, his hands around the hilt of his sword are bloodied but he carries himself with grace and sheer bullheaded stubbornness. What was that saying again? No matter how the wind howls, the mountain cannot bow to it. He is so very brave. Wei Wuxian can feel his need to protect the ones who are hidden in the cave behind him even at the cost of his own life.

He seems to have set his mind on something, following Wen Xu, even as another arrow buries itself in his back and a voice cries out “A-Zhan! No!”. A sharp crack, bones crunching. His leg is broken but Wen Xu is dead, staring into nothingness. Lan Wangji does not cry out, instead uses his sword to get up again, breathing hard, spitting blood but still, there is a defiant light in his eyes. Someone trips him up and he falls to his knees, his head held high, his guqin on the ground next to him, strings bloodied. As the sword finds its mark, Wei Wuxian does not look away. Dares not look away. Lan Wangji stays proud and brave until he crumples to the ground and stops breathing.

Ringing, silvery and gentle, pulls him out of the cold waters, guides him back into his own body. As he comes to with a gasp, he notices that he has been crying. He wipes his eyes and looks at the body in front of him, at this brave and stubborn man who died defending those he cared about. “You were so good. So good, Lan Zhan,” he whispers, the personal name slipping out as he squeezes the cold hands, looks into his serene face. “The best.”

He turns to Lan Xichen who looks like he has been crying as well. “He died with the deep wish to protect still ingrained into him. He wants to make sure you are alright. And… he is guarding something. I… you spoke of the Yin Iron.”

The way Lan Xichen pales is answer enough.

- 🍄 anon

(Part one for all who didn't read it)

Omg!!! You sent me through every feeling IMAGINABLE 🍄 anon 😭😭😭

That line about there being a lot of ice to crack made me laugh and then you just came at me like that with feelings about lwj dieing! Not. Fair. 🥺

And lwj + little kids = love :D

[namjoonchronicles]

late | th

↳ genre fluff, established relationship, dad Taehyung

↳ words 4k

↳ summary a trip back to hometown for a friend turned into something memorable which embarked something deep in Taehyung’s heart. 

↳ notes i discussed the premise of this story with my good friend @hellotherehoneybee​ and based on her ideas, i prolonged the length and added some plots to push a heavy turn so appropriately, the summary here is thanks to her. 

↳ warning mentions of childbirth, vivid descriptions of the scene, major character death

↳ song taylor swift ‘gold rush’, imagine dragons ‘levitate’, taio cruz ‘telling the world’, taylor swift ‘ you’re in love’

.

.

.

“Taehyung… tea?”

Sand cuffed the shore. Half painted coast on the canvas. The wind blew rather harshly and every strike of wind, Taehyung’s wild mane of hair ruffled against themselves. They were long enough to cover his eyes but it didn’t stop him from painting the colours on his canvas. He blinks at the view of the sea and how it doesn’t change despite the years passed by. He wore slippers with an open toe, a baggy shirt and baggy trousers. His eyes looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Sunken cheeks and empty eyes, his jaw was immaculate and his face was crafted by God. He is beautiful in this light. So beautiful. 

“What are you drawing so seriously?” you asked. But no answers from him. As it should.

Six, maybe ten years back, this caravan was parked here. Pair of hands raised to the ceiling. The sunlight sieved through the blinds. The pair laced themselves, and toyed around. The make out of the knuckles under this light, showed how veiny his hands were than yours. Small chuckles and soft whispers accommodate the serene and tranquil moment. The caravan was parked by the sea. His easel leaned against the kitchen counter next to the sink. His whole body covered yours as you snuggled in bed. You thumbed his supple cheeks and traced the shape of his lips as he lay half-awake. You ran your index finger down the slope of his pretty nose and counted his eyelashes, you lined the edges of his brows and ran your hand through the locks of his brown hair that looked lighter in the sun. He moans sweetly at your touch. 

You proceed to trace your fingers down the helix of his ears, his excellent jaw lines and chin. There's prickling hair ends at the chin and you thought that he might need a shave. You remembered how bad he was at shaving. You even suggested that he should stop shaving all the way. The smile he had on when you said it was priceless. Then he remembered that society wouldn’t have allowed him to live. Taehyung’s eyes half-opened at the stimulating touch. He breaks a smile in his sleepy state and he crunches his nose at the view of you. You swore, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. He nuzzles into your face and neck, planting kisses where he can and he spoke, in his drowsiness, “I’m so sleepy.”

He gets on top of you and buries his face in your neck. Through lighthearted giggles, you say, “You’re heavy, big bear…” While making no effort to push him away. He feels like a weighted blanket you always wanted when you’re younger. Warm and snuggly. Gentle and tender. He smells like a pillow and his hair is soft. He loves it when your fingers thread through his hair, just caressing the glorious length, he’ll make sounds that are so lovely. You brushed your lips on top of his head and one arm around him. They never meet the total length of his shoulders because they were too broad. So you end up scratching the fabric of his thin shirt. Had the weather been warm enough, he would have rather slept in his skins. You whispered softly, as you felt him drifting back to sleep in his new found comfort, “If you don’t get up now, we are going to be very late…” 

And we won’t be able to help around like we planned.

Jeju’s beaches are breathtakingly beautiful. Especially in Handam. Where the waters are brilliant blue and the skies azure. The black rocks, rubbles, kissing the shore. It would make a fine painting, this scenery. Taehyung poked his head out the caravan door at you, 

“I thought you said we’re late?” 

You glanced over your shoulder and gave him a sheepish smile. Jogging lightly back into the caravan, you pinched his sides as you walked in. 

In fact, you weren’t late. You were not late at all. Taehyung’s eyes had always been inviting. Beautiful brown irises so encapsulating they almost felt unreal. It was those eyes that your friends recognised. They quickly adopted him once he carried in all the groceries like he is one of them. The crowd roars as they see you because they know it will shrink you. You were never good at crowds, so you covered your ears and physically shrunk while laughing till your eyes turned to crescents on their own. Quickly, the host came to the rescue, gathering you in her arms and calling off those people that are bothering you. At once, Taehyung had disappeared to make new friends and greet the old ones. 

“A baby shower, this late?” you stared at your friend, Junhee quizzically. She pursed her lips and stared off to the corner of the room while tucking your arm in hers.

“I wanted an excuse to see my good friend,” she said with a cunning grin, then she cowers, falls silent in a sudden, her palm rubbing over her swollen belly. Nine months in, any day now. You knew in your heart that it was a bad idea, but still, her husband, Jimin, felt like it was okay to hold these gatherings for her. Jimin would do anything to make her happy. Then, she hisses. And you start to cower over her, pulling the chair closer for her to sit. 

“Is it the contraction? Has any contraction happened today?” 

“No, this is the first…” 

Junhee seemed to have calmed down after she rested. You still wanted to talk to Jimin if you had the time, asking why he’d think it was a good idea to hold the party anyways. You had your answer when he walked in, snapping the fridge door open for a cold drink refill.

“She looked so miserable these past few days, I just wanted to see her smile,” Jimin carried two bottles of fruit punch as he brushed shoulders with you. Then, a toddler came crawling in, on all fours, stopping just by your feet and falling onto her bum and sat. Her twinkling eyes ushers you to carry her up. 

“Where did you come from, little one?” You cooed. She curls up to your neck, and starts babbling. Then you suddenly felt her little hand roaming around your clothed boobs, and when she felt she found the tip, she began suckling. And you laughed out loud. Loud enough to have everyone's attention on you, including Taehyung’s. The baby’s mother rushed to you in her loose ponytail, handling another two slightly older children that were at her feet. One is tugging at her blouse and the other wailing so loud, you became concerned. You helped her into a nursing room, Jimin’s wife had prepared. It was a short tattling walk away from where you were. The baby was hungry. She’s four months old and today was her first day out since she was born and was brought home. You were glad that the number of guests didn’t scare one bit. 

Taehyung had distributed the barbecued sausages to the kids around. He had the sharp sticks taken out and was helping to blow the heat from the sausages from one of the kids. He looks pretty much at home with everything. It’s probably been awhile because he finally saw you out the room carrying the baby, her little stodgy fingers curled around your thumb and she is gurgling. What a beautiful sight it was. It seemed you might have heard his thoughts when you looked up to the side and had the baby waved to Taehyung. He chuckles through his nose and crinkles his eyes at the little one, making a funny face. The little toddler extended her short petite arms and grabbed air repeatedly at Taehyung’s presence. Then you motioned her closer to Taehyung.

“I think she wants you to carry her…” 

“Me?” He sounded unsure, uncertain, but, he brushed invisible dust off his palm on his butt and, “It’s been awhile but. Okay.” Arms open, collecting the toddler in.

The pinkish hue of her skin, her soft supple cheek, her little angel hairband, and twinkling, gleaming smile. Taehyung memorised her scent like a wolf would to a pup, with his eyes shut, his nose nudging on her softness. His arms held her gently but firmly. It felt like there was only him and the baby, he shut every other sound. When he held that baby, there’s stillness in the air, the noises ceased to exist, the visions clouded and the heaven’s hinted; it was his calling. It felt very much like sinking and flying at the same time. It was as if the world stood still, the time stopped and the anticipation grew. A lifetime in a second. Gold rush, a dam broke and first rain in the desert. Taehyung eyes fluttered open to the view of the baby’s rosy cheeks and immediately searched for you. Any semblance of you. 

But you were kneeling by Jimin’s wife laying body on the floor. 

Taehyung padding over the wooden balcony into the living room. In daze, Taehyung passed the baby over to her mother and closed into you. Your mouth was moving but for some reason, his brain couldn’t string the words. You were screaming but he heard nothing until seconds after.

“Call 911!” You ordered. There was a puddle of water where she once stood. 

Meanwhile, you’re massaging her tummy. Jimin’s at the other end, and people pooling in to watch. The men are asked to wait outside with the kids for the ambulance. Taehyung had his hand on the house phone, and as he tried to arrange his words, his attention flew to you and your alarmed eyes. Your lips read, 

“Speak slowly… clearly.”

The dial tone ended and, “We need. Ambulance. Birth. A woman is giving birth, please send in an ambulance.” He turns to you again and right now, you have all the ladies lined up. 

“Okay, listen. Towels, all of it, blankets, pillows, sterile gloves, plastic bags, and Jimin,” you listed. Everyone spreads around to get everything. Towels from upstairs, blankets from the laundry room, pillows from the guest room and plastic bags from the kitchen drawers. Even Jimin who was outside waiting for the ambulance is being carried in by Jungkook. Taehyung handed a plastic cup of water. Jimin has his wife’s head cradled in his lap, padded with pillows and she’s holding her hand.

“I told you this was a good idea…” she joked, “I only trust her around…”

“I have only delivered a baby once in my life and that was in nursing school, that does not mean this was a correct choice, Junhee…” you half scolded her.

“I wouldn’t have it in any other way,” she said with a big smile before she hisses in pain and clenching around Jimin’s fingers. Then she groaned till veins were popping on her forehead. Jimin kept on peppering kisses and wiping her sweat with warm water. She continues to wretch and shiver. She felt cramps in her abdomens, churning. So she retched. What a relief she had her husband on the side. Jimin’s whispering words of affirmations and it really helped her calm down. Although she is really not far from giving birth. She is 9 centimetres dilated. 

“Where is the ambulance?” You asked in a rushed tone. 

“Any minute now!” Someone at the door informed. 

That’s not good enough. She will be 10 centimetres in no time and if the ambulance isn’t here by then, the baby will drown. She is perfectly ready for vaginal delivery, you grab a towel, place it underneath her openings and tell her to push until she feels the contraction. Work with the contraction and push as hard as she could. You also massaged to make sure the baby’s head was out first. From the physical examinations, the baby’s head is visible. All that’s left to do is for Junhee to push. You thought her the breathing method, and counted with her. Even Jimin’s following suit. 

“Deep breaths, sweetheart. You can do this…” you reminded her, “And then we’re gonna go again, okay?”

“I think I’m going to vomit…” Jimin fetches the bag from the side and vomits. Taehyung gulped, watching the fiasco from the side. He watches his wife carefully guiding, and assuring and giving space towards the mother to feel as comfortable as she can. 

Junhee was obedient and she was cooperating. She was entirely under your care. You can see from her eyes that she trusted you with her life. She had been, ever since you knew her. And now, she entrusted you with her life and her baby’s life. Junhee delivers a big push and this time the baby slides out into your arm along with it’s placenta. The detachment is healthy, and you quickly glance to the time, on the grandpa’s clock on the corner, 

“Someone note the time!”

“3:47PM!”

You placed the baby on his mother’s arm, a healthy baby boy. Another warm towel on his tiny body and his mom’s tired laugh. He is red and warm and crying, lungs are not congested. But still you need to wait for the ambulance. You placed the placenta into the bag Taehyung opened and told Jimin to hold them up. You refused to cut the umbilical cord without proper tools. It’s not sterile here to do so and there’s no medical back-up should anything go wrong. You told everyone to stay put until the ambulance arrived. Taehyung caught your eyes from across the room and slowly, you drew a smile on your face, contradicting his worried one. And again, in this lifetime, even when he was most concerned about you, you told him with your eyes that you’re okay. Even at this distance. 

“Who delivered the baby?” the ambulance personnel yelled, his voice seeped in, through the windows to you, while you were cleaning up the living room. 

Taehyung rushed to the door with a panicked look on his face and you sprinted out.

They gave you the scissors.

“The ma’am wanted you to cut the umbilical cord instead of the father, will you do the honors?” The man in medical assistant uniform smiled at you. You took the scissors in your hand and you glanced up at her, tears welling up in your eyes and you cried, “Yes, of course, yes…”

“She’s a retired nurse, I never once worried about my life when she’s around,” Park Junhee boasted as she was carried into the ambulance. Jimin climbed in, too. You followed the ambulance close while Taehyung drove Jimin’s car. It’s to help them later, if Jimin needs to return home. Taehyung left the car parked in the hospital parking area and climbed into your shared caravan. He offered to drive. And as he was driving, and talking about how cool you were as the night fell, he heard nothing from your side. You had already fallen asleep. Defeated by the tiredness. He stops at the same spot this morning and lowered your chair. He fetches a blanket from the bed and tucked you in warm. You moaned and switched to your side. He leans over you and plants a firm kiss on your head. As you swam deeper in your slumber, the stars twinkling in the sapphire blue sky, the moon stood witness to the feeling Taehyung had over you. He lowered his own chair to watch you sleep with a smile and fondness in his eyes. 

His soft curls fall over the hood of his eyes, touching the bridge of his nose as he clamors in renewed emotions he felt for you. Such pure love, the kind that authors would write about in novels, many years ago. He is so in love, his feet are levitating from the ground it seemed. One of those wishes thrown at the shooting skies had come true. Broken pieces of him, finally held together, and the last piece was in a form of a person. He extended his arm to reach yours, and you took them in like a soft toy. He gladly cuffed himself to you, it's been his fate. Lips, body and soul, is yours. The bell resonated from the far back of his mind, of when soulmates found each other. His heart thumping so loudly he feared you might have heard them. You have stirred something inside him he doesn’t quite understand yet. Rain or snow, storms or deserts, it's your hand he wanted to hold. He wants to create a home so comfy for you and maybe, in between you two, a baby that’s both his and yours. Someone to carry his name. Symphonies of violin when he watches you sleep. Like an orchestra coming together. 

Walking down the street in the morning, you wore beige knitted cardigan, hands intertwined. He swings your hand with a big toothy grin on his face. His soft curls flying in the wind, his deep chuckle sparking your insides with excitement. You wanted to choose a gift for Jimin and Junhee’s baby boy who is now at the hospital. With this man’s hand who made your heart ascend in the small of your back, it felt like you could do anything. An older woman who was also a customer in the small shop gave you both a big smile. 

“Newly weds?” She asked.

“Why? Do we seem like so?” You asked her warmly.

“We've been married for almost 2 years now…” Taehyung corrected her.

The older woman chuckled, and then her smile faltered, crestfallen on a vision it seemed, “Such soulmates are rare… You looked so good together, such a beautiful couple…” Taehyung wanted to buy a small necklace for the older women. He grabbed one that caught his eyes and dashed out the shop’s door, but the old woman had disappeared. 

“She walked really fast for someone her age…” Taehyung spoke to himself, squinting hard at the distance in both directions. To see if there’s any semblance of the friendly old woman anywhere. It’s like she vanished. When he returned to the shop, you asked him to buy you a glass ball with a bear reading and confettis inside. It was nothing special for Taehyung but you wanted it so he bought them without much thought. In the caravan, it was placed on the dashboard with a double tape, securely glued. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we have our own little one?” Taehyung stared at his friend Jimin, cooing his little baby.

“Could we?” Your smile faded as you bore into the view of the glass. You turned to him with a broken smile, “At my age?”

“You’re not as old as you think you are…” Taehyung said. And did he prove them well. Nine months later, you were holding his arm as you walked out of the apartment door with Jimin’s wife on the phone, telling you that she had arrived. Unlike her, you wanted to be at the hospital when the water broke. The same beige cardigan you wore on her child’s birthday,you wore today. It’s already old and strings were coming out at the ends but you insisted. Taehyung carried you bridal style into the car, towels ready. His arms were yours to clench on and while you were groaning, he was biting his lips at the same force. You clawed into his flesh as he calmed you down. Jimin was driving and his wife was teaching you the same breathing method you taught her. You plastered your face into Taehyung’s neck. Hair stuck into your forehead as you sweat profusely, fighting through the incessant pain. 

“Please hurry Jimin, please hurry…” Taehyung begged.

“I have the hazard lights on, we will make it on time, don’t worry bud…” Jimin said in a rushed tone. 

In the delivery room, Taehyung was dressed in all blue, masks and gloves, just like the doctors and nurses. There’s only his eyes, but you recognise them so well. One look, in that delivery room, meant only for you. Light hearted jokes and hand held tight. He pressed his lips on your whitened knuckles the whole time. His tears fell like diamonds as he watches you push with all your strength, a baby that is his. No words exchanged, but you saw enough. He was in love, so direly in love. Memories flash in the back of your mind, under clenched eyes, kisses on the sidewalks, love declarations under the heavy rain. The way he lifts you to the sky in that storm, slowly sliding you down his body, enough for you to place your forehead on his. His wide gaping smile, drenched in the night under the lamp post, warm wafts of breaths escaped his lips. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him hard. You couldn’t hear what the midwives are saying, but you know one thing, this is the ultimate gift you could give the man that has given you everything. 

One last push, and a shrilling tiny cry accompanied. Taehyung looked at you and linked his forehead on yours. You’ve gone pale. So pale. Your lips were blue and your eyes were drooping. You are coming in and out of consciousness. The doctors had to lead Taehyung out of the delivery room, they had to perform operations. You were too tired to continue pushing. But before he leaves, you brushed your lips on his left cheek, and you tell him in your last bits of strength, 

“I-I love you. So-so much...Thank you…” 

Taehyung’s hand was separated from yours. He was grabbing air just as yours were holding out. 

.

.

.

.

Today. 

“Taehyung, tea?” His mother greeted him. He and his easel in use. He shook his head. And from inside the caravan. Small pair of hands curled on the handles, to push the door open. Carrying a beige cardigan. Four feets putting on shoes and padded to their father. With brown irises twinkling at Taehyung’s back, no older than four years old, Taehyung glanced over his shoulder and spread his arms. One in each arm. 

You watched them from the caravan, and it felt like you were right there. You could almost touch him, his hair, the slope of his nose. The babies. The babies are all grown. You could almost smell the sea. The breeze you knew so well. But you can’t. 

Six years ago.

Taehyung returned home with the babies. Dressed in all black, he has to head back out again, to send his wife. When he returned, he saw the babies sleeping on their side, covered by the beige cardigan. He rushes outside to where the caravan’s were. His mother caught him just in time as he fell to the ground, shivering and calling out your name repeatedly. His mother cradles him in her lap.

“Release, my child. Release your agony…” Taehyung’s mother cradled her baby boy in her arms and Taehyung let out a cry, heart-thumping, guttural screaming cry as he let out the grief he had kept in the silent since he saw your casket lowered, six-feet underground, a baby in his arms, sleeping, coddled in her late mother’s knitted cardigan she wore when she was at the hospital, trying to have her. Taehyung looked up at the sky that strangely bright day, and a single drop of rain fell to the left side of his cheek where his wife had kissed before she went away. 

God is neither late nor early. 

God took one of His angels back home to Him. Left two behind in Taehyung’s care.

.

.

.

.

Copyright © January 9th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, leave feedback :’) please

[thiswasinevitableid]

77. a prophecy said that we’ll save the world together but I’ll be damned if I enjoy your company while we do because you insulted my best friend the first time we met

Ot4, sfw, please!

Here you go! I'm very pleased with this one

The drive hasn’t changed. The road into Kepler goes under the same covered bridges and winds up the same hills it always has. Even the views from driveway to the October House are the same one’s he watched through back windows with rising delight. He’d hoped to get here when the fall colors were still crisp and bright, but they droop from the branches like mourners from the weight of the grey rain.

No one batted an eye when he said he was moving North on Joe’s invitation; Joseph Stern inherited the ancestral home in Vermont, with its sprawling grounds and stately decay. It would make sense that he’d ask the friend who spent so many summers with him there to take up the role of groundskeeper.

Duck pulls his truck into the carport next to a languishing Chrysler Imperial. He runs his finger over the black curves, raindrops plinking on the tin roof as he wonders whether he could coax Joe into taking him for a ride.

He leaves his bags in the car for now. Letting his friend know he’s here is the top priority.

The house is just as tall and mismatched as he remembers, turrets and wide windows mixed with sloping eaves and a sun room. It’s patchwork quilt character extends to it’s color; some walls are red, others goldenrod, and the door is bright as a ripe pumpkin.

Joe christened it the October House the first summer he and Duck visited there. Joseph’s aunt, a proud spinster, suggested his transplant parents send him to the family farm for a few months of growth. When Joe showed his characteristic skepticism about spending his summer alone in Vermont, she offered to let him bring a friend. He chose Duck every year.

The October House was the last thing they spoke about the night before Duck left for basic training (and, soon after, Normandy). Joe was already slipping off the map, recruited for secret purposes by men who valued his intelligence over his humanity. He told Duck to remember the summer they were thirteen, to remember he was brave.

It wasn’t Duck Newton’s first war, but it was for damn sure his last.

He opens the door with the tarnished key Joe sent him. Anywhere else, he’d call out to find his host. But he knows where he’ll be.

One flight of creaking stairs, a left turn down the hallway of faded photos, a right into the room with the mural of Noah’s Ark on the wall, and there he is. Black hair slicked back, blue silk robe covering old scars and new, and eyes that are bluer still turning to take him in.

That’s Joe alright; immaculate even in his madness.

“You’re here.” He stands, dazzling smile reflecting the firelight.

“Told you I’d come. Can’t leave you here to get buried alive in books.” He opens his arms, unsure even as he commits to the movement. Joe hesitates, then steps across crumpled maps of stars and seas to hug him.

“I missed you.” He whispers. Duck doesn’t mention that Joe was the one to disappear once the war was over. They had one night in Huntington celebrating the boys who made it home; Joe’s smile stayed painted on the whole time, but Duck couldn’t get him alone to ask why. Then he fled north and didn’t respond to letters.

“Missed you too, Joe.” He peers over the taller man’s shoulder, takes in the mural and all the materials on the floor. Duck steps from the hug, paper crunching under his boots as he goes to trace the door of the ark, “you’re tryin to go back.”

“I want proof Sylvain was real. I, I want to see it again, to know we didn’t dream it.”

“Got a scar on belly that says we didn’t.” Duck turns, slips his hands into his pockets, “why are you really tryin to go back? They told us we couldn’t, said that if we came home the gate would shut for good.”

Joe doesn’t answer right away, runs his fingers over the badgers and bears fleeing the flood, “Do you ever wish we’d stayed?”

Duck thinks about bloody sand. Then about Jane getting married. His folks celebrating their twentieth anniversary.

“No. Christ, Joe, we were thirteen. It was fucked up to ask us to. Who the fuck asks two kids to rule a kingdom?”

A weak laugh, “and people say I’m the smart one.”

“You are.” Duck touches his shoulder, “now c’mon, smart guy, you don’t show me where my room is, I’m takin yours.”

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

“You sure this is the spot?” Barclay keeps a close eye on the gathering darkness for any bursts of sickly white.

“Yes. The maps align with the stories that they emerged near “a stone like that of a broken heart.” Indrid draws hurriedly in the dirt with his claws, his lower hands uncorking bottles as he does, “come closer, if this catalyzes before I expect, I do not want you to be left behind.”

Barclay sets a hand on his shoulder. Feels his feathers shudder as he inhales.

“It’s time. I, if this does not work, I am sorry.”

He bends, kisses Indrid between his antenna, “I trust you, little moth.”

Indrid hums as amber light fills the clearing, and then everything he knows and loves dissolves into heat and empty air.

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

It's the same static, the rush of heat like wind in a wildfire. The hairs on Duck’s arm snap to attention as Joe leaps from his chair. The door on the ark shimmers and glows with alien majesty. Then two figures fall face-first on the floor and the light is gone.

“Are you alright?” Joe bends to help the first, feathered shape but it stands in a flurry of down, the hairy figure following suit.

“Yesyes, we are fine.” The feathery one looks like a massive moth with some human features.

“Oh.” Joe grins, “I’ve never seen a Sylph like you before. This, this is incredible.”

“You know what we are?” The other asks hopefully.

“We do. We, I’m, I’m Joseph Stern, and this is Duck Newton-”

“Thank the stars.” The mothman bends one knee, his friend doing the same, “yes, we are humble emissaries of the kingdom of Sylvain. We have searched for months to find our way to you. You, who prophecy says will aid us, return and take your rightful place as kings, and save our home once more.”

“No. Nuh-uh, not a fuckin chance.” Duck steps back, spots conflict in Joe’s eyes.

“What do you mean?” The mothman stands, “you, the prophecy, my visions showed you-”

“Then they showed fuckin wrong. I just got my life into some kind of order, I’m not letting you and some giant fuckin ape-thing drag me into another mess.”

Red eyes narrow, “Do not speak of Barclay that way.”

“I’ll speak about him however I damn well please because this is my house!”

“Technically, it’s my house.” Joe sighs, “But Duck is right. We almost died saving Sylvain once before. As, as much as I miss it, I’m not sure I can go back if it means risking our lives again. I was sort of hoping for a middle ground between being stuck here and a near-death adventure.”

“Please-” Barclay steps towards Joe.

“Hey, he said no, so fuck off.” Duck growls. The Sylph growls back.

“Buddy, do you have any idea how much we risked to get here? How much energy Indrid just used to open the gate. Oh, and, by the way, without the stuff we came here for we can’t go home. We’ll be stuck here.”

“Then you shoulda had a back-up plan instead of assumin you could just say a few fancy words and get us to go back. Oughta get some brains to go with the brawn there, big fella.”

“Enough” Indrid hisses, glaring at Duck. “I do not care if you are a chosen one, nothing gives you the right to speak to him, or to me, so callously. We came to you, you who are--if I did not make it clear--our last hope, and you respond with cruelty. I ought to teach you manners, but I will restrain myself.”

“Like to see you try.” He turns to where Joe is carding a hand through his hair, expression lost, “it’s your place, so you decide how we get rid of ‘em. But I’m done here.” With that, he stomps down the stairs, already suspecting Joe will let the Sylphs stay. When it becomes clear that’s the plan, Duck heads into the garden to work and stays there until all the lights are off.

It’s just after midnight when he wakes from a dream, slicing at the air while weak cries die on his tongue. He sits up, then goes gravestone still as the door opens. Indrid’s eyes are warning lights in the dark hall.

“Are you hurt? It did not seem fair to leave your calls unanswered.”

“No. Just had a, uh, a bad dream.”

The Sylph steps through the door, turning on the small, standing lamp, “It is strange to be the only one not waking in terror for once. Well, I suppose Barclay doesn’t.”

Duck tosses off the blanket, “Fuck, is Joe-”

“He is fine now. Barclay was up looking at cookbooks when he started screaming and went to him. Your friend did not wish to wake you, but was so shaken Barclay offered to stay with him.” A little smile, “he is very comforting. Soft, too.”

“You’re sure he was just dreamin? Not sick or anythin?”

“Positive. He was yelling in some other language.” Indrid fiddles with the knick-knacks on a shelf.

Duck runs a hand across his face, “Probably German.”

Indrid cocks his head.

“He had to learn it when he was a, uh, a spy in the last war. The one here. He...he got caught, I only know that because everyone talked about how miraculous it was that he escaped. Joe never talks about it.”

“One can imagine why.” Indrid murmurs.

“Then ‘one’ can probably imagine why I don’t want either of us near a goddamn battlefield.” Duck snaps.

“Is...oh dear, you think that is what we’re asking of you? Nono, we came here for help in preventing a war, one that may destroy both our worlds.”

“You coulda led with that, y’know?”

“I suppose. I, I am, or was, the court seer. But as the evil spread across our kingdom, it disrupted my powers. Now they’re gone entirely. It’s as if I am navigating the woods with no compass and no stars.” His antenna droop. Duck turns the chair near his bed in invitation. The Sylph moves quietly across the worn boards, “The last vision I received before they disappeared was of you two helping us; I saw a new timeline of futures, bright and hopeful, unfurl before it was gone. When you said you would not help us, it was like ripping my wings from my body mid-flight. That is why I was angry. Well, that and how you spoke to Barclay.”

“Sorry about that.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “I just...when y’all showed up, all I could think about was bein back in the middle of a fight. Of, of seein Joe die.”

“I am sorry too. I did not know you had suffered such things.” Indrid picks at the blanket with chipped claws, “I cannot promise there would not be danger if you aid us. But I give you my word that you shall hear no more of it from me. I only wish for you to accept this quest if you wish to.”

“Thanks. That already puts you ahead of the last time.”

Indrid hums, then peers at Duck’s arm where a tattoo peeks from his shirt, “What is that?”

Duck rolls up his sleeve to reveal the pine tree, “got it because it helped me think of home.”

“Yes but how? To wear art on one’s skin, that is amazing. Do you think they could do it on mine?” He holds out his upper right arm. Duck runs a finger up it, thinking of the polished cherrywood on the table downstairs.

“Might be tricky. You need skin for it to work.”

“Blast.” Wings flutter once, “do you have more I may see?”

Duck unbuttons his shirt as Indrid scoots closer; if he’s not going to sleep tonight, at the very least he can make someone happy.

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

“Gotta say, y’all bein’ here is doin’ wonders for him.” Duck hands Barclay a glass of water as he joins him on the porch. Joseph and Indrid are sitting on a sunny path of lawn, Indrid showing the human his wings and explaining them in detail so he can make notes.

“Seems to go both ways. Indrid hasn’t been this animated since we left to find you two. He’s even more talkative.”

“Joe’s always been good at that. He can get anyone talkin, and can make almost anythin sound interestin.”

Barclay sneaks a glance at the human; he’s much friendlier these last two weeks, but his protectiveness of Joseph hasn’t waned.

“I wouldn’t say him cheering up is all on us. From what he told me, the week you got here made him feel like his cares were washing away.”

“Really?”

Barclay nods.

Duck sips his water, rubs the condensation with his thumb, “In, uh, in Sylvain, am I rememberin right that men could marry men? Ain’t always easy to tell when there’s so many kinds of beings runnin’ around.”

“Why wouldn’t that be okay? Some kinds of Sylphs, like Indrid’s, don’t even have things like men and women. I mean, when they offered you and Joseph a chance to rule as kings, the records make it sound like the two of you would have gotten married.”

Duck chokes on his water, splutters as Barclay pats his back, “I, fuck, I’d never, we’d never, I, fuck, definitely never ever didn’t think about it.”

Barclay lets the horrible excuse for a lie slide, “It’s a way bigger deal that Indrid chose me for this; being a seer makes him noble and I’m just a cook. Going off into the wild with me? Trusting me? Thought some of the ministers were gonna faint.”

“Was it just you helpin him or are you two, uh, y’know?”

“Yeah, I do. Can you blame me? Look at him” he gestures to where Indrid is spreading his wings so Joseph can study them. Stars would he like to go down there and hold the human tight while he taught him how to make Indrid purr.

“He really is somethin.” By the look on his face, Duck wants to do the same thing, just in reverse. After a moment, he murmurs, “the night before we were supposed to face the Red Devourer Joe and I were in the tent by the battlefield. Curled back to front, my arms around him and I could feel his heart beating hard as mine. Shoulda been thinkin about strategy, or prayin, or somethin’ like that, but all I could think was that I oughta kiss him, just in case we didn’t survive. But I didn’t. There were chances after that. I never took ‘em.”

“It’s not too late.”

“If you found out Indrid wanted to kiss you for years and was too chicken to, even when he thought he was gonna die, would you really let him?”

Barclay thinks of claws in his fur, of Indrid huddled against him and chirping softly when Barclay asked to kiss him.

“Of course I would.”

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

“How long until the summer?” Indrid tosses the wool scarf Duck lent him over one wing.

“Months. Y’all got here in October, which means we ain’t even into the worst of the winter yet.”

An annoyed chirr, “We need more blankets.”

“Get you more when we’re in town tomorrow, fluffball. Hah, here’s some.” Duck kneels to cut some surviving leaves from a wild yarrow. They’re out in the woods because Indrid is running low on his feather oil, which keeps him from being miserable and itchy. He described what it did and let Duck smell some (it’s a bit like aloe and vanilla) so the human could reverse engineer what earth plants might do the trick.

Duck brushes off his pants, looks around, “Huh, we made it to the Maples. Joe’s aunt said she never got much from ‘em, but I don’t think she ever really tried.”

“What is special about them?”

“It’s how you get maple syrup. It’s in these trees.” Duck smirks, remembering Indrid licking the dregs from the bottle at the house with his long, long tongue.

Crunch

He whirls to his left, finds Indrid with both rows of teeth sunk into a maple branch. He giggles, then guffaws as the Sylph pulls off with an indignant chirp.

“You, you gotta, hee, you gotta tap the trunk, n-hee” he doubles over as Indrid bites the same branch while drumming his claws on the trunk, “not quite, need some other tools.”

“Perhaps lead with that?” Indrid grumbles, wiping bark from his face.

“S-sorry just, just didn’t expect you to go to town on it like that, heee”

Indrid grins, “It was worth it to hear you laugh like this.”

God, when was the last time he laughed this hard? The thought sobers him, his joy faltering like a bird in a storm. Then he cackles as four spindly arms hoist him into the air.

“ACKhey, put me down fluffball! Ahhno thatheee, that tickles.” He laughs louder as Indrid holds him to his chest and rubs his fuzzy face against his neck.

“I thought that might do the trick” Indrid purrs, nuzzles his cheek, “no more despair, Duck Newton. Not today.”

Duck turns his face so they’re eye to eye, pine green to ruby red, “Deal.”

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

“I found everything on the list.” Joseph crumples the note paper and tosses it away as Barclay gleefully unpacks the shopping bags.

“This is so fucking great, I can’t wait for you guys to try this, and Indrid is going to lose his mind when he sees what I made. This dessert is his favorite.” He tucks the heavy cream and pears into the fridge.

“I’m excited to try it. We definitely didn’t eat any tarts when we were in Sylvain. The badgers who hid us from the red mist were, I think, pretty poor.”

“Yeah, the borderlands were bad off in those days. I was just a kid too but I remember digging out roots to try and make some kind of soup.” The Sylph turns those endearing brown eyes on him, “up for being my kitchen assistant again?”

“Always.” Joseph tucks a dishcloth into his belt. He’s very proud of himself for finding earth equivalents to all the ingredients Barclay needed to make a fall dinner from home. Having the Sylphs living with them means he goes into Kepler more often for groceries or goods to fix up the house. Everyone in town thinks his childhood friend is a good influence, getting him out of the stuffy confines of the October House.

They’re not wrong. When Joseph saw Duck in the doorway, a little world-worn but just as kind, just as practical as he always was, he decided that if the other man didn’t want to return to Sylvain, Joseph would set the project aside. He’d focus on the world he was in, because with Duck there he might yet find things to marvel at, things to discover that weren’t mired in the mundanity of human evil. They’d make the October House into a home, live out their days as bachelors.

Then Barclay had come through, auburn-furred and so gentle Joseph wanted to make like butter in the sun and melt. And Indrid, magnificent and vulnerable (and very infatuated with Duck). When Duck announced he’d help them look for clues to stopping the war, Joseph felt buried bits of his mind rising to the light of the new challenge.

After dinner, they take a pot of coffee into the living room. Indrid is delighted by records, is already putting one on as Barclay puts wood on the fire. The seer lays on the rug, head in his lovers lap and purring low.

Love me like there's no tomorrow

kiss me like it's goin' out of style

“You know, I wonder how one dances to this. It is not fast, but the rhythm is not like the formal dances at court.”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Duck stands, offering Joseph his hand. Lord, he’s pictured this so many times but still has to coax his own hand to move, “Joe, you’re leadin.”

He settles his hand on Duck’s hip and holds the other, concentrates on swaying them to the beat.

Hold me like you're afraid I might get away

Love like I've been gone for quite a while

“You can come closer, Joe. I ain’t gonna bite. Not in front of company.”

“I’m holding you to that.” He presses closer, prays for Duck to rest his head on his shoulder.

Take and wrap me in the package

my future my presence and my past

And love me like there's no tomorrow

and each day might be our last

“Dearest, I am rather tired from that lovely meal you made. Shall we retire?”

“Good thinking, little moth.”

Love me like there's no tomorrow

Make each night one more remembered

we will let the heaven be our guide

“Seems they didn’t need much of a demonstration.”

“Not sure that was Indrid’s endgame.”

Just love me like there's no tomorrow

and keep me right by your side

Joseph tips his head down, whispering, “What was?”

Keep me right by your side

“Duck?”

In the crackle of silence between songs, Duck brings their lips together. Joseph forgoes their stance and pulls him against him, their hearts magnets that were finally turned the right way. Then his feet stumble on the rug, Duck pushing him back with a ferocity he didn’t know he possessed.

Joseph drops into the chair, Duck pouncing before as he breathes. Joseph growls, the hunger that’s been chained threatening to crack his chest from the inside, and nips Duck’s lower lip.

“I said no bitin.”

“You said you wouldn’t bite.”

“You're right, darlin’” Duck cups his cheek as Joseph grips his thighs, “I’m gonna do so much more than bite.”

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

It never gets easier, waking from these dreams steeped in shame, fear, and sweat. Except this time someone’s arms are around him.

“I’m right here Joe, we’re here, we’re safe.”

“Very safe.” Indrid stands behind Barclay in the doorway, “another dream?’

“Yes. I, um, I-” he reaches for Barclay without meaning to, is ready to apologize when the Sylph slides into bed beside him.

“Is this okay?” It’s directed at both the humans.

“Yes.”

“Uh huh.”

Barclay adjusts so Joseph can hide his face in his chest. He should ask Indrid if he wants to be on the bed as well, the poor Sylph might think he’s not wanted-

“C’mon fluffball, my back is gettin cold.”

A delighted chirp and then a wing, black with a grey and red eyespot, drapes across him and Duck.

“Mmmmmm, I knew you would be lovely to hold.”

“Aim to please, sugar.”

“What happens now?” Barclay murmurs.

“My vote is we all get some sleep and work out the particulars in the mornin’.”

“Seconded” Joseph mumbles.

“We will need a good night’s rest; tomorrow I make the disguises for myself and Barclay so that we may begin our wider search.”

“Hope you guys like them.”

Joseph squeezes Barclay, smiling as Duck wiggles closer and Indrid’s wing grows heavier, “We’ll love them no matter what, big guy.”

[poorwayfaringstrxnger]

My friends that know nothing about Formula 1 make assumptions about Formula 1 drivers (long post incoming)

I joined in on the bandwagon! It was the most chaotic half an hour I’ve ever had and I need somewhere to express that. I asked for assumptions + a name based on what they look like! They knew Lewis, and one of them knew Kimi because of her dad. Oh, and one of them made no contribution except to say what foods they either looked like or looked like they would eat for their breakfast LOL

Here’s what they said...

I forget who started this trend I’m so sorry

Daniel:

"Is that Chewbacca?" ................................. "He seems like a fairly friendly bloke... though he'd probably run me over." (he literally wouldn’t) "His name is.... uhhh... James Harkinson."

Max:

"That's a motherfucking twink." (I SCREAMED)

"His trim (hair)'s a little offputting, but he seems nice."

"Name wise, he seems like.. a Thomas?" "He looks like if Honey Nut Crunch cereal was a human."

Charles:

"Why does he give off the vibe that he wouldn't hesitate to clothesline you?" "He looks like a Chad." (I DIED)

“How about.... strawberry flavoured Shreddies for him.”

I’m very sad they made no reference to how he looks tired in every photo.

Seb:

"He looks mildly like Mr. Dyer" (an ex teacher at our school) "He looks like he still eats Cheerios." "Name wise.... Russell." (LMFAO)

Pierre:

"Fucking hell... scary man." (meanie. he is not scary. never forgiving my friend for saying this)

"Full English breakfast..." Harper is obsessed with food. "When you said he was French, the name Pierre instantly came to mind." !!!! One later said that he looks like Jacksepticeye. I can't with these bitches.

Lewis:

"Alexander "Lewis" Hamilton." !!!!

"Oatcakes (a food from around where i live) with bacon and cheese." "There's a million things he could have done... But just you wait... what's your name, man? ALEXANDER HAMILTON." "Man is suave... and that's coming from a lesbian."

This was literally just them referencing Hamilton because they actually knew who he was

Carlos:

"Does he like protein drinks? Maybe he has coffee and toast."

"Norton." (I say he's Spanish) "NORTONÓ." "WAIT NO... IS ANTONIO A SPANISH NAME?" "UHHHH... JAVIER."

Esteban:

"He looks like a Joe." "NEVERMIND JOE ISN'T A FRENCH NAME" "His breakfast food is a croissant." "John." (referring to his name) "French guys aren't really that intimidating... he seems fairly nice. He looks like a Sebastian." (LOL wrong driver guys)

Lance: (had to ask them to be nice to him so I didn’t cry)

"He looks like the guy who plays Jacob from Twilight."

"He probably enjoys eating frumps... maybe not for breakfast though." (frumps are long marshmallows) "Canadian.... Benjamin." "2012 Minecraft youtuber is what I think." "BAJANCANADIAN."

“But also, his pose... I feel that.”

Checo:

"Vic." "His shirt says hype, he's immediately epic." "Pink." "Amazing vibes." "Also likes frumps. He shares them with Lance." (CUTE) "His vibes are immaculate." 

I think Checo is their fave..

George: "He looks like a William... OR A WILBUR" "Man's fancy with the cup, Jesus wept." "Wilbur Soot when his YouTube career goes bank." "The bracelets... THE BRACELETS" (there was nothing wrong with his bracelets my friend just has no taste) "Great vibes. Would hand him a Pepsi." "Why is the cup so big? Does he like soup?"

Lando:

"God, the stance, man." (referring to how he was standing in the picture I sent them) "My man looks smug as fuck and I'm here for it." "Phillip." "Is he okay?" "OH HELL YEAH" (after I told them he does livestreams) "PHILLIP IN THE TWITCH CHAT FOR TODAY"

Alex: (for context I sent them that one photo of him lying down on a bed)

"I can't give him a breakfast, he's not even out of bed." "He looks comfy in that. I envy him." "Mark." (this made me laugh bc it reminded me of Markiplier LMFAOOO) "He looks like he's wom a fair share of races, man. Man's go brrrr." "He eats peanut butter sandwiches as a late night snack." "Alex Almond milk..." (after I told them his name) (THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD BC THE FANDOM CALLS HIM ALEX ALMOND)

Kimi:

"Why does he look scared?"

"Is he okay?" "That man has never had any seasoning on his chicken... ever." "Thinking of a suitable name is very hard.." "HUBERT." "He's not okay, he's being held at gunpoint so that strangers can make assumptions about him on Discord." "RICHARD" "OH I KNOW HIM" !!!!!!!!!

Romain: (made sure they respected him by telling them about his bad crash)

"Mr. Beast, low budget version."

"Kudos to him for not dying, man." "Swiss names..." "Teddison." (i cried laughing at this) "AYO ROMAIN" (after i told them his name)

Kevin:

"Fucking hell he looks intimidating." "He looks familiar..." !!!!!! "He does look pretty familiar.." "FRANK." "Does he like scrambled eggs?" "WAIT NO... BROCK" (both of those names are incorrect)

Jack:

"He looks like Guava Juice." (THE WAY I SEE IT OMFG) "The food jokes are mine but that was good..." (Me) "Think of a really basic name..." "JACK." !!!!!!!! "I think he would like pomegranates, or grapefruit."

In conclusion I think they’re both now Sergio Perez stans and I hate one of them because she said Pierre looks scary.

[fanmoose12]

Hange was crunched over her laptop, typing furiously - it was probably another strong worded letter to one of their associates. If nerves weren't currently eating him up, Levi would have found the scene in front of him amusing. But as the case was, he was barely able to keep it together. He tried to distract himself, looking around Hange’s office. Even though, it was only the beginning of December, she was already in a festive spirit. There was a small Christmas tree on her table, and on her wardrobe hung a string of Christmas lights. Hange adored Christmas, so it was no surprise that she was getting ready for it so early.

Levi glanced back - thankfully, everyone else had already left the office. At least, no one would see him stare at Hange like he was some kind of a creep. It was bad enough that some interns jumped away from him in hallways.

There was nothing to be worried about, though. He just needed to ask Hange a small question. She was his best friend, there was nothing scary in asking your best friend a question. Besides, Hange probably wouldn't even accept his invitation. Knowing her, she received dozens offers already. She'd apologize and refuse, Levi would wave her off and then they'd forget about this incident altogether.

Just like they’ve forgotten about last year's incident.

Yes. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

Levi straightened his shirt, fixed his tie and took a deep breath. And then finally— he knocked on the door.

"Yes!" Hange shouted. "Come in!"

"Oh, it's you," she said, as Levi walked inside. "I thought it was janitor coming to kick me out again," Hange laughed at her own joke.

The smile turned into a frown, as soon as she saw the look on Levi’s face.

“Is… everything alright?” she spoke gently, getting to her feet and coming to stand beside Levi. She tilted her head, looking at him worriedly. “You look kinda tense.”

Levi lowered his head, hiding his eyes behind the hair. “It’s… my mother,” he managed finally.

“Your mother?” behind the lenses of her glasses, Hange’s eyes widened. “Did something happen to her? What can I do to—”

“She’s fine,” Levi quickly assured her. He wasn’t going to tell it to her, of course, but Hange’s concern warmed his heart. “She just…” he cleared his throat and looked up at her, staring straight in her eyes. “She invited you over for a dinner. At Christmas.”

“Christmas?” she scratched the back of her head in confusion. “Are you asking me to spend Christmas with you?”

“My mom asks you,” Levi corrected. “But yeah. You don’t have to agree, though! If you have other plans already, it’s more than fine. She’ll understand. No hard feelings whatsoever.”

“Are you kidding me?” Hange beamed. “Christmas with Ackermans? How can I possibly refuse? Besides,” she elbowed him in a side with a mischievous look. “It’s not every day that Levi Ackerman—”

“My mom—”

“Invites me over to a Christmas party. Don’t worry, shorty,” Hange reached out and ruffled his hair. For some weird reason - probably because he let Hange get away with literally anything - he let her assault his immaculate haircut too. “Of course, I’ll come.”

“Great,” and Levi actually meant it. Despite, the fiasco during the last year’s Christmas party, he was looking forward to spending this Christmas with Hange by his side. “Now, c’mon, it’s almost nine pm. Get your shit, four-eyes.”

“Huh? Levi, are you offering me—”

“A ride home?” he scoffed. “Yes, I do, Hange. Or have you fixed your car already?”

Hange chuckled sheepishly. “I keep forgetting about that… you know how it is.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately, I do. So hurry up before I change my mind.”

“I’m on it, Captain!” she dashed to her desk, getting her bag and phone. Then Hange went to the wardrobe and took out her coat. She hastily put it on and haphazardly wrapped a scarf around her neck. “And I’m ready!” she announced proudly.

Levi tsked. “You’re such a mess,” he pulled her closer and fixed the wrapping of a scarf, making sure that it covered Hange’s neck completely. “There,” he patted her arm. “Now, you’re ready.”

“Thanks, dad,” Hange giggled and started to lead the way. “So, who else is going to be at the party?”

“You, my mom, Kenny—”

“Oh, your uncle?” she rubbed her hands together with a sly smile. “I like him! He’s so much fun!”

Levi huffed. “Just be careful around him, four-eyes. Or he’ll get you involved in some of his shady shit.”

“There is no need to be jealous,” she teased.

“Keep dreaming.”

“And that’s it?” Hange asked. “Your father—”

“Fuck no,” Levi replied instantly. “Kenny is more than enough to fill the asshole’s quota.”

Hange raised an eyebrow, amusement written all over her face. “So your uncle’s an asshole, huh? Didn’t he raise you, though? You know what they say – an apple doesn’t fall far—”

“Oi,” Levi interrupted, before more shit came out of her mouth. “I may be too straightforward sometimes, and sometimes I’m a little harsh and can come off as rude, but I’m nothing like Kenny.”

“If it helps you sleep at night,” Hange patted his shoulder with a sympathetic look.

“Shut up, four eyes,” scowling, he gave her a light shove.

“Ah!” Hange suddenly exclaimed, spinning around. “Christmas with Ackermans! I’m already looking forward to it!”

“Weirdo,” Levi commented, desperately fighting to keep an affectionate smile off his face.

“You’re saying it as if you aren’t the same,” Hange giggled. “Admit it, Levi. You’re as much of a weirdo as I am. That’s why we’re so compatible.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, refusing to even entertain the idea. “Hurry up by the way. It’s late already, I don’t want to spend the whole night with your crazy ass.”

“Oh, Levi?” Hange put on an innocent look on her face, twirling a stray lock of her hair. “Can we stop to eat somewhere, please?”

Levi gave her a flat look. “Your fringe is empty again?”

“I just forgot to do the groceries…” she mumbled.

“Fine,” Levi sighed. “We’ll make a stop. But we’re going to my favorite place. Those disgusting burgers you love so much make me want to puke.”

“Let’s eat your boring soup then.”

“My boring soup is healthy. It won’t give you an atherosclerosis.”

“I need another favor from you…”

He groaned. “Let me guess, you forgot your wallet again?”

Hange shrugged with a smile. Levi cursed.

“Alright, I’ll pay for you. But it’s the last time, four-eyes,” he warned with a stern face.

With a smile still on her face, Hange nodded. They both knew that Levi was lying.

“Wait,” Levi said, as they neared the front door of the building. He turned to face Hange, eyeing her critically. “Where are your gloves?”

Hange rolled her eyes, but obediently opened her bag and started rummaging through her things. “Aha!” she exclaimed a couple of moments later, proudly showing Levi a couple of gloves. “Here they are!”

“Put them on,” Levi instructed, walking outside and heading towards his car. “And let’s leave this place, before the café closes.”

“Coming!” Hange shouted, following after Levi with a wide grin.

***

It was a Christmas Day already, and Levi was standing on a porch of his mother's house, waiting for Hange to show up. Knowing his friend, she would be late for at least ten minutes, so Levi leaned against the door, debating if he should go back inside to get his pack of cigarettes. His mother hated when he smoked, but it was going to be a stressful day, Levi knew it. Even without the memories of his last Christmas, nagging at him, there was Kenny he had to deal with, and the relationship between him and his uncle was at the very least, strained. If he wished to end this evening without strangling Kenny, Levi needed a lot more than just one cigarette.

However, before he could decide, he saw Hange at the other end of a street. She was walking with a spring in her step, dangling a couple of bags in her hands.

Levi crossed hands on his chest, watching her approach.

"What is this shit?" he pointed to the bags she was carrying.

"Presents!" she grinned widely.

“Presents?”

"Yes! For you, your mother and uncle."

Levi didn't drop the look of skepticism. "There are four bags."

"Of course, silly," Hange shook her head. "I've got two presents for you."

"Two?" Levi frowned. "Why two? I got only one for you."

"Well, it's not my fault your birthday is on Christmas," Hange complained. "Speaking of!" she spread her hands, "it's time for a hug, birthday boy!"

Levi cringed. "Is there a way to avoid it?"

"No!" Hange announced cheerfully. "C'mon, I'm waiting!"

Levi sighed, but obliged and came closer, letting Hange wrap her hands around him. She hummed happily, nuzzling his cheek.

"Ah, that was a good one," she said, as she took a step back, releasing Levi. He, however, couldn’t agree with her statement. It was a good hug, but it ended too quickly for his liking. Well, it wasn't like he could ask Hange to repeat it. She would agree, of course, but his reputation would suffer tremendously.

"Goddamn it, four-eyes," Levi scowled, when he took a good look on Hange's hands. "How many times do I have to remind you about the gloves?"

He grabbed her red and freezing palms in his, softly rubbing them. "Let's get inside, before you freeze to death."

"You worry too much," Hange rolled her eyes, but didn't try to shake Levi off and let him lead her inside.

The moment they crossed the threshold, Kuchel was already standing in front of the door, smiling from ear to ear. Levi awkwardly let go of Hange's hands and took a step back, allowing his mother to welcome her.

"You came!" Kuchel laid her hands onto Hange's shoulders, kissing both of her cheeks. "I'm so happy to see you, my dear!" she took a step back and faced Levi, giving him a stern gaze. “And you told Hange wouldn’t accept our invitation. You should bring her over more often.”

Levi looked down, mumbling something so quietly, neither Hange, nor Kuchel were able to catch it.

Watching the scene in front of her, seeing an embarrassed Levi, who was just scolded by his mother, Hange couldn’t help – she doubled over with laughter.

“Sorry!” she raised a hand, still chuckling. “I’m just— Levi looks so much like you, Mrs. Ackerman, it’s adorable!”

“Ah,” Kuchel smiled, reaching out to ruffle Levi’s hair. “He was always his mother’s boy.”

Levi groaned, desperately trying to hide his red face from Hange’s amused gaze. “Can you two please stop humiliating me?”

“And here she is!” Levi had never wanted the Earth to swallow him more than he did in this exact moment. He recognized that deep, booming voice instantly. “The only person who can tolerate my dear nephew!” Kenny walked out of the room to welcome them.

That infuriating smirk was already plastered on his face, and Levi cursed under his breath. It would be a very long evening.

“Hange, my darling!” Kenny took a step closer, meaning to take Hange by the hand. Levi was instantly by her side, glaring at his uncle.

“Watch your hands, old man,” he spoke darkly.

Kenny whistled. “Someone’s jealous, huh?”

Before Levi could retaliate and come up with another insult, his mother came to stand between them, wearing an annoyed expression on her face.

“Stop it, boys,” she sighed. “Kenny, don’t pick up on Levi, and you, Levi,” Kuchel shook her head. “Be nice for once, alright?���

“Yes,” Kenny and Levi answered in unison. Kuchel beamed.

“Now you two take your coats and shoes off and then join us in the living room. Hange?” Kuchel turned to her. “You’ll stay the night with us, right?”

“I…” Hange scratched her neck, unsure.

“Stay,” Levi whispered, nudging her in the side. “Mom already prepared the guest room.”

“I guess I have no choice then,” she grinned. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Ackerman.”

“Don’t mention,” Kuchel waved her off. “And please, call me just Kuchel. Levi talks so often about you, I feel like you’re a part of our family.”

“Ah, a-alright,” Hange stared at Levi, but he turned his face another way, stubbornly refusing to meet her eyes. His mother was exaggerating, he didn’t talk about Hange that much.

Kuchel sent them another warm smile, and then left to the kitchen.

"Aw," Hange pouted as soon as Levi took off his coat.

"What's wrong now?"

"You're wearing a simple shirt and cardigan.”

"And?" Levi prompted, feeling his patience go thin.

"Why not a Christmas sweater?" Hange clasped her hands, frustrated.

Levi looked at Hange's bright red sweater with a big reindeer right in the center of it. "No thanks," he mumbled. "My eyes hurt just looking at the monstrosity you're wearing."

"It's called fashion, Levi, you should look it up sometimes."

"Says a person, who can wear the same shirt for two weeks in a row. By the way," Levi outstretched his hand. "Give me it."

"Give you what?"

"My present, four-eyes, give it to me."

"A-ah," Hange resolutely shook her head. "Wait until midnight."

Levi gritted his teeth in frustration. "Fine, you can keep the other one, but you have two presents. Give me the one for my birthday."

"Nope."

"Hange, today is my birthday, I deserve to receive my birthday gift."

"Have some patience, will you? I'll give it to you at midnight."

"Why can't you—"

"Let's go!" Hange pushed him forward, leading him away from the presents. "Your family is already waiting for us."

***

As Levi watched Hange chat with his mother and uncle, sharing jokes and stories about him, he couldn't help but wonder - could it be that Hange actually forgot about the incident that had happened last year? It was the only possible explanation, she was so calm, so nonchalant, while he was practically brimming with nervous energy, trying to think about literally anything to distract himself from the awkward memories.

Noticing his stare, Hange smiled and winked at him, before resuming her story about Levi's meeting with investors. She wasn't nervous in a slightest and Levi decided to follow her example. If Hange was unbothered, what reason did he have to panic? If she didn't remember the events of last Christmas, he should try to forget about it too. *** "Hange, honey, come here," Kuchel beckoned, interrupting Hange's conversation with Kenny. "There is something I want you to see."

"Oh," as soon as Hange saw what Kuchel was holding out to her, she rubbed her hands in anticipation. "Is it what I think it is?"

Kuchel nodded, wearing the same giddy expression as Hange. "It's our family photo album."

Levi, who just came back from the bathroom, felt his heart drop. His mother wouldn't dare...

"Mom, it's my birthday," he reminded, sitting down next to her. "You can't embarrass me at my birthday."

"But Levi," Kuchel pouted. "I'm not embarrassing you! I just want to show Hange, how cute you were as a child."

"Yeah," Kenny chimed in. "She needs to see what your face looked like before you got a severe case of constipation."

"Shut up," Levi hissed, glaring daggers at his uncle.

Meanwhile, Hange was already opening the album...

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed delightfully, staring at the first page. "Levi, you looked so cute! You were the most adorable baby ever!"

"He still is," Kuchel softly patted Levi's cheek.

Levi groaned, covering his face with a hand. It was the worst moment of his life.

"Look at this face!" Hange continued to coo. "And these pretty eyes!"

Levi's cheeks were on fire.

"Tell about this to anyone, four-eyes," he warned quietly, careful not to let his mother hear. "And you're dead, got it?"

"Of course," Hange smiled, amusement swirling in her gaze. "My lips are sealed."

 ***

As the evening progressed into the night, Kuchel excused herself, insisting that she needed to go and rest. Levi and Hange were sitting on a sofa in the living room and watching TV. As they were on the second part of Die Hard, Kenny left too, claiming that there was something he had to take care off. Начало формы

“He’s definitely up to something unlawful,” Levi commented off-handedly as soon as Kenny closed the door after himself.

“Oh?” Hange grinned, muting the TV. “What do you think he’s going to do? Rob someone? Murder?”

“I don’t care,” Levi replied. “And you shouldn’t care too. The lesser you know, the better.”

“You’re no fun,” she smacked his shoulder, before collapsing on his lap with a quiet giggle.

“Get off,” Levi complained. “I’m not your pillow.”

“But you’re warm,” Hange wiggled a little, taking a more comfortable position. “And soft.”

“Shut up,” he sighed, trying to ignore the pleasant feeling that appeared because of Hange’s words. “It’s almost midnight,” he nodded at the clock on the wall. “So get up and bring me my present.”

“Oh my,” Hange looked at him with a sly look. “You really can’t wait to receive it, huh?”

“Give it, four-eyes.”

“Fine!” she huffed, getting to her feet. “But I want to see my present too.”

“Hurry up!” Levi called after her.

He rose from the sofa and headed to his room, where Hange’s present was hidden. When he came to the living room, Hange was already sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree, wearing a wide, excited grin.

"My present," Hange demanded, reaching with her hand.

Sitting down next to her, Levi rolled his eyes and passed the package to her. Instantly, Hange started opening, tearing the paper like an overexcited child. Levi glared at the pile of paper on the floor, but Hange was too excited to notice his dark expression.

"Oh!" she breathed out, as soon as she saw the present. "Levi, is that—"

"Your hands are always cold," Levi explained, watching Hange try the new pair of gloves he got her. "I know it's not much, but..."

"No!" Hange protested, pressing the gloved palm to her chest. "They're perfect! So warm and soft!"

"Good," Levi let himself relax. "It's my first time doing something like this, so I was afraid—"

"Wait!" Hange shrieked, eyes wide. "You made them by yourself?"

"Yeah," Levi said with a frown. "It's a not a big deal, though. Knitting isn't so hard, so..."

"You've knitted the gloves for me..." Hange whispered with a big, dreamy smile on her face. She kept staring at the gloves like they were a damn miracle. Levi couldn't look away from her, as a warm feeling spread through his veins. He could never guess Hange would like his present that much.

"Thank you!" Hange wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him closer for a brief hug. "Well now!" she grinned, letting go of him. "It's time for your presents!"

“Finally,” Levi muttered.

Reaching behind her, Hange handed him the first package. "That's your Christmas present," she said softly.

Levi nodded, taking it from her hands and then carefully unwrapping. Once he was finished, he put the pieces of paper in a neat pile. Then, he looked at his present. It was a sweater, an exact copy of the one Hange was wearing right now, only slightly smaller and green, wherein Hange's was red.

"Matching sweaters!" Hange announced gleefully. "Put it on!"

Reluctantly - the sweater was kind of ugly - Levi put it over his shirt. He felt like an idiot, but the beam he received from Hange was making it kinda of worth it.

"You look really handsome," Hange noted, making Levi's heart skip a bit. "I should have gotten you reindeer antlers, though. They would have completed the look," she added, ruining the sentiment completely.

"Shut up," Levi grumbled. "How give me another one."

"I feel kinda stupid about it now," Hange began, fidgeting a little. The gesture was so uncharacteristic to her that Levi arched his eyebrow, looking at her in surprise. "Especially after your mother showed me a different one, and it contains cuter pictures," Hange smiled at that. "But, well, here. Happy birthday, Levi."

Levi greedily snatched the present from her and took off the wrapping paper. Inside there was a book - a photo album - Levi realized as he took a better look.

He opened the first page, and saw a picture of himself and Hange. Hange was smiling into the camera, one hand was making the piece sign, while the other was wrapped around his shoulders. His face was as emotionless as always, but there was a soft look in his eyes.

"I put our photo at the first page, because I know my face is your favorite," Hange teased with a sly smile.

Levi didn't answer - there was no need to confirm that Hange's words were actually true. Instead he turned the page. The next one showed him, Erwin, Mike and Nanaba, looking relaxed and slightly drunk. Hange obviously took this picture, since she wasn't in it. Then he saw a photo of him and Mike building a sand castle and after that a picture of him and Erwin, while they were playing Mario Kart on Erwin’s sofa. On the next page, there was a group shot of every employee of their firm. He, Erwin and Hange were stood at the center, with Erwin's arms on their shoulders. After that, it was a picture of Levi with their interns, Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Sasha and Connie. It was taken after they finished a seminar, Levi remembered. The kids were on cloud nine, since it meant that they could finally rest after a long and tiring weekend. They did well on the seminar, so when they asked for a picture with them, Levi just couldn't say no.

"You look like a proud dad here," Hange commented, leaning over his shoulder to look at the photo.

Levi let out a noncommittal grunt and continuing flipping over the pages. There was a lot more, almost three dozens of pages and each one showed a dear memory.

"I know that you like this stuff, keeping small mementos," Hange said. It was true - as much as Levi loved order and cleanliness, he also gathered all kinds of tickets, receipts and other small trinkets that reminded him of good memories. He kept all of them hidden in his desk drawer, though, so he was surprised that Hange knew about it.

"Thank you," he told her.

"You like it?"

"I love it," he confessed. He didn't say it often, probably had never actually said it out loud, but he valued, loved all of his friends. They were the best thing in his life. Of course, he couldn't say it now too. There was a reputation he had to uphold after all. "I've never seen a bigger collection of ugly faces."

Hange laughed then, throwing her head back. Levi watched her with a small smile.

"Happy birthday," she repeated, putting her head back on his lap.

Levi didn't protest this time, simply stared down at her. The Christmas lights were dancing across her face, making Hange look softer around the edges. Without thinking, Levi reached out to brush some hair out of her forehead. Hange smiled, looking up at him.

"Hey," she began. Levi nodded, motioning for her to continue. He stretched his hand, taking his teacup. "Do you remember last Christmas?"

The hand with a cup froze midair, as he stared at Hange with wide eyes. He thought she was going to launch in another lengthy and boring story, not bring this thing up.

"I don't," he answered stiffly, fighting the urge to get up and run. Hange shouldn't have known about this.

"You really don't?" Hange asked, disappointment in her voice. "We were at the party at Erwin's place, I had a bit too much eggnog and—"

And then she staggered out on a balcony, while Levi was having a smoke break. She was clearly drunk and a thought flashed in Levi's mind that he should bring her home or lay her down in one of Erwin's guest rooms, before she did something stupid. And that's what she did in the next moment. Something stupid. She snatched the cigarette from his hand and threw it away. Levi opened his mouth to reprimand her for that, but wasn't unable to actually say anything. Because Hange— Hange was kissing him. Before he could react to it in any way - push her away, bring her closer, entangle his hand in her hair - anything, Hange took a step back.

Whatever was reflecting on his face, Hange didn't like it. She pursed her lips in thought and a line formed between her eyebrows.

"That's not good," she said finally. "Just— just forget anything happen."

And just like that she was gone, giving Levi no time to respond and leaving him alone at a dark, cold balcony.

The next morning, she gave no indication that that kiss had ever happened.

"You do remember," Hange poked his cheek with a finger. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Then why the fuck have you asked?" the hand that wasn't holding a teacup, tightened into fist. What the fuck Hange wanted from him? She told him to forget, didn't she?

"I just wanted to— doesn't matter now," she looked away from him. "I've got my answer already.

Hange moved, trying to get up. Levi pressed on her shoulder, pushing her back.

"You were the one, who told me to forget it.”

"Because you clearly weren't interested!"

Levi frowned. "Who said that?"

"You!" Hange pointed a finger at him, almost hitting him in the nose.

Levi waved her hand away. "I've never said such thing."

"You didn't need to. Your face said it for you."

"I don't understand what you're talking about."

"You don't understand?" Hange huffed. "When I kissed you, you were scowling!"

Levi crossed hands on his chest. "That's how my face always looks like. You know it."

"You didn't kiss me back!" she accused.

"You didn't give me the time to do it!"

Hange felt silent after that. She kept looking at his face, as though searching for something there.

"Does it mean that... you wanted to kiss me?"

"Yes," Levi sighed. "For a very long time now."

"Oh," Hange's cheeks became an adorable shade of pink. "That's a bit unexpected. But... If I were to kiss you again—"

"I'd more than welcome it."

"Alright," she nodded, getting up. Hange leaned in, until their lips were almost touching. She glanced in his eyes, checking his reaction. Then she slowly moved closer, leaving a gentle kiss on his lips. She withdrew almost instantly, looking more than a little embarrassed.

"So," she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Did you like that?"

"It will take me some time to get used to it," Levi admitted.

"We can take it slow," Hange offered. "Would you like that?"

"Yeah," Levi agreed. "I would like that."

"C'mon then," Hange got to her feet and then held her hand out to Levi, helping him up as well. "Let's finish the movie."

He followed Hange back to the sofa and then resumed the movie. At first, he sat at the other end of sofa, deliberately putting some distance between them, in case Hange felt awkward. She rolled her eyes at the gesture, moving closer and laying her head on his thigh.

"Is this okay?" she asked, looking up.

"Yeah," Levi carefully put his hand on her shoulder and started rubbing it softly. "More than okay."

Hange smiled and turned her attention to the TV screen. Levi smiled back, staring down at her.

It was his best Christmas ever. Much better than the last one.

[funkylittlebard]

Sweeter Treats than These

listen listen listen... we all know a week is in fact 9 days right?

with that in mind, sorry @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, here's my belated addition to your Yenfri week

Also for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

With that in mind, here we go:

Here on Ao3

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Lingerie, oral sex, vaginal fingering, top Yen (ish), bottom Renfri

Yenfri picnic date turns horny hidden below

It had been a lovely day so far, and Renfri was feeling quietly pleased. Her plan was going off without a hitch. There was only one stage left in her plan to organise a wonderful date for Yennefer’s birthday, the scene was set, all that was left to do was unveil the present. The wind was blowing her hair off of her shoulders as she sipped at her iced latte. It was pleasantly warm out for early May, and her hand felt like it was buzzing against Yennefer’s. She glanced over at her girlfriend, rubbing her thumb across the back of Yennefer’s hand, and promptly hid her soft smile behind the coffee. She couldn’t possibly have strangers in the park thinking she had feelings.

They had spent most of the morning wandering around a museum, Renfri enjoying the way Yennefer’s entire face lit up when they had entered the exhibit on legendary animals, immediately focussing on the unicorn. Her eyes had expanded and a tentative smile graced her lips, and Renfri couldn't do anything but stare at her, spellbound by the sight. Yennefer was stunning, and it was wonderful to see her enjoying something thoroughly.

Which was exactly the line of thought that had led to Renfri’s current plan.

She tugged the other women over to a shady spot under a large oak tree. Renfri flashed her a grin, and pulled out the soft purple picnic blanket from her rucksack. She flung it hastily on the grass and began unpacking the food, pulling out two bottles of pink lemonade and a tiny bottle of gin. Yennefer chuckled, a wicked smirk on her face as they sat down, and Renfri danced her fingertips across Yennefer’s knee.

“So, what shall we start with?” She waved her hand at the selection she had spread out and quirked an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Yennefer smirked at her and reached for the grapes, popped one into her mouth, and leant back, looking comfortable and smug. Renfri grinned back at her, then slowly stretched her legs out in front of her and stretched her arms up, eyes slipping closed in an effort to make the movement seem more natural. She knew this angle would show off her toned midriff, intending to start her teasing at a gentle pace. She knew that by now Yennefer would have seen the floral stockings where they peeked out from the holes in her jeans, but she had probably mistaken them for tights. That could be a surprise for later.

She opened her eyes ever so slightly. Yennefer seemed entirely unaffected so far, still munching delicately on the grapes, and shielding her eyes from the sun with her other hand. Renfri shifted so that her legs were parted just a little and sighed, shaking her head so that her hair fanned out around her face. She reached over for a packet of crisps and tore them open. A few flew up into the air, and Yennefer wrinkled her nose a little as Renfri began crunching noisily. Another grape went into her mouth and she licked her lips, with Renfri staring at her shamelessly as she did so.

A loud crunch. The hiss of a bottle being opened. The splashing of the fountain to their right. Birds tweeting overhead. The chatter of the other people in the park. Renfri stared at Yennefer, all of the sounds around her seeming trivial compared to the quiet hum of contentment Yennefer let out as she took a sip of her drink. A peal of laughter pulled her from her thoughts as Yennefer looked straight back at Renfri, a low chuckle behind one carefully manicured hand. Renfri frowned, and stuck her tongue out at her.

“What, I’m not allowed to admire my girlfriend now or something? Rude,” she said, before shoving a large handful of crisps into her mouth. Yennefer quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Of course you are,” she said, taking a sip of her drink, apparently not interested in saying anything more. Renfri scowled as she chomped her way through another handful of crisps. Dropping the packet onto her lap, she stretched her arms over her head once more and leant to the side, letting out a pleased groan as she felt the pleasant stretch of her muscles. Hopefully like this her top would ride up just enough…

There was a sudden choked-off gasp to her right, and Renfri smirked. Perfect. She leant her arms over her head and arched her back, shirt riding up her abdomen to reveal the dark red lace at the bottom of the bralette.

Well, it was working. A quick glimpse showed her that Yennefer's eyes had gone dark and heavy-lidded, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Renfri chuckled, reaching for the crisps again. Next to her, she heard a small growl.

“Finally,” Renfri whispered, broad grin spreading across her face, as Yennefer’s hand landing to grip her hip possessively. Yennefer leant in, eyebrows furrowed and teeth bared. She dipped her head to Renfri’s ear and bit the lobe, tugging it between her teeth with a low groan.

“You’re a little shit aren’t you, princess?” Yennefer said breathily before moving her teeth down to Renfri’s exposed neck just below the ear. Renfri shivered, the use of that particular nickname sending a shiver down her spine. She loved when she managed to rile Yennefer up like this, get her to act so possessively. There was a certain thrill, too, to the fact that they were in such a public place. But they would have to leave for what Renfri wanted to do next.

“Maybe you should take me home then, have your way with me,” she whispered, letting her own lips ghost across Yennefer’s collarbone.

The door slammed shut behind them with a heavy crash as they rushed down the hallway, tearing off clothes as they went. By the time they reached the bedroom, Yennefer was naked from the waist up, only her skirt left. Renfri licked her lips and leant to unclasp her stockings, but Yennefer’s soft hand covered her own.

“No. Leave them on.”

Renfri looked up- Yennefer’s eyes were blown wide, her hair was tangled from Refri’s hands, and her usually immaculate lipstick was smudged. Renfri smirked- she did love to see her girlfriend becoming unravelled. She drew her hand away from the stockings, instead running her fingers along the other woman’s leg. Her hand slid further down Yennefer’s thigh, and then dipped under the skirt and rose slowly back up her leg. Renfri settled her hand on Yennefer’s thigh, rubbing little circles with her thumb teasingly. Yennefer shuddered and abruptly shoved Renfri onto her back on the bed. Renfri fell back with a muted laugh, hair splaying out behind her. Yennefer straddled, balanced across her abdomen, and Renfri couldn’t resist leaning up to steal a kiss. Yennefer’s lips were warm against her own, and Renfri parted her lips with a quiet sigh, allowing Yennefer’s tongue to slip inside. Renfri moaned, shifting her hips. Yennefer chuckled and drew back, pushing their foreheads together as she smiled down at Renfri.

“You look delightful, dressed up all pretty like this for me,” she reached down and pressed a kiss against Renfri’s knuckles, eyes fixed on the matching lacy lingerie Renfri still wore. She pressed a line kisses up the length of Renfri’s arm and when she arrived at the shoulder, she dipped down onto Renfri’s chest, kissing between her breasts and then moving to suck at her nipple through the bralette. Renfri groaned, hips bucking up a little at the sensation. Yennefer moved a hand to tease at the other nipple, tracing circles around it and pinching. Renfri’s eyes fluttered shut, and she pushed her hands into Yennefer’s hair, tangling her fingers in it and pushing Yennefer closer to her chest. She felt a sharp pain as the other woman’s mouth caught her nipple with a teasing bite, before drawing back. Yennefer licked her lips, and rolled her hips, grinding against Renfri’s stomach with a guttural moan. Renfri’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the damp fabric of Yen’s panties rub across her stomach. She bit her lip and tugged at Yennefer’s hair, trying to get loose, desperate to get her hands on, reciprocate in some, any way.

Yennefer smirked at her, and ground purposefully against the other woman’s stomach, pinning her to the bed with her legs pressed tightly against her. Renfri groaned, slamming her head back against the bed and Yennefer let out a peal of laughter.

“Stay there for me, Ren. Be a good little pillow princess for me,” she said, rutting against her girlfriend again. Renfri growled, and tugged slightly at Yennefer’s hair, before settling back against the blankets.

“Fine,” she said. “I did dress up for you, so I suppose I deserve a reward.”

Yennefer’s smile was distinctly dangerous, and Renfri swallowed thickly, noticing her own underwear suddenly become a little damp as she watched Yennefer crawl down to kneel at the end of the bed, and tug Renfri down so that her crotch rested just in front of the other woman’s face. Renfri shivered as she felt Yennefer lick across her panties, flicking her tongue back and forth for a moment, taunting her with possibility. Renfri shifted her hips, eager for more, but instead, Yen licked a stripe along the length of the now wet fabric. Renfri whined quietly, feeling blood rush to her face as she did so. Yennefer looked up at her with a knowing smirk and they locked eyes as Yennefer flicked her tongue across the panties again and started to place a series of kitten licks over Renfri’s clit. Renfri grit her teeth together, fists clenching as she held back a moan.

By the time Yennefer decided she had teased her enough, Renfri’s panties were soaked through. Yennefer peeled them off down her legs and ran her hands back up the other woman’s legs and held her hips in a strong grip.

“Take your bra off for me, princess,” she purred. Renfri shuddered as she flung it from the bed. She looked with hooded eyes at Yennefer as the other woman slipped out of her skirt and threw the last of her clothes to the floor. Yennefer ran a hand up Renfri’s leg, plucking at the top of the stocking. “But these stay on,” Yennefer finished, and lay down by Renfri’s side, her body warm and welcoming.

Renfri’s breath caught in her throat as she felt one of Yennefer’s long, slender fingers reach between them to tease over her clit. She bit her lip, and dropped her head to the other woman’s shoulder, hips rutting uncontrollably as she tried to get more of the pleasure Yennefer was offering her. A whimper slipped unbidden from her throat as Yennefer leant down to kiss the base of her neck and her hands scrabbled at the woman’s back, clinging desperately. Yennefer carefully ran her fingers across Renfri’s labia, before gently slipping a single finger in. Renfri groaned, and bit at her shoulder, pushing her fingers in harshly to Yennefer’s soft skin. Yennefer moaned, and kissed further up Renfri’s neck, finger pumping steadily in and out of her. Renfri threw her head back, panting.

“Don’t have to be so fucking gentle with me, Yen, I won’t break,” she ground out, as Yennefer traced a finger around her, feeling how wet Renfri was, still not adding a second finger. Yennefer pressed a series of delicate kisses up Renfri’s neck, being so careful, and so considerate of her, that Renfri could feel her eyes beginning to water. She blinked furiously, biting down harder again on Yennefer’s neck, sucking in a bruise as she jammed her eyes shut. Yennefer groaned and finally added a second finger. She began to pump them faster into Renfri, grinding her palm up against the woman’s clit at the same time. Renfri’s moans were muffled in Yennefer’s neck.

She pushed her hand from where it was gripping Yennefer’s back, moving one to grab a handful of her arse. The other she slid between them, teasing at Yennefer’s nipples, determined to make the other woman feel good, too. Yennefer groaned, dropping her head to Renfri’s shoulder, crooking her fingers and pushing in faster now. Renfri shuddered again, and tipped her head to the side to mouth at Yennefer’s earlobe as she kept flicking and pinching at her nipples. She let her hand on Yennefer’s arse slip gradually down until she could feel between her legs. She couldn't quite reach her girlfriend’s clit like this, but she could lay a teasing touch across the lips of her cunt. She moaned when she felt how wet Yennefer was, wishing she could stretch to do more. Not that it would make much difference when she was this distracted. Yennefer had pushed another finger into her and it was making it difficult to breathe, or do anything more than pant and fuck herself back on the other woman’s fingers. She whined into Yen’s ear, feeling very close to coming and utterly helpless to bring Yennefer off with her. It would be frustrating if it didn’t feel so good.

“Yen…” she sighed, breathless, “Yen, I wanna-”

Yennefer cut her off. “Hush, darling. Just let me take care of you. Focus on being good for me, alright?” Her tone was clipped and sharp, and in other circumstances, Renfri might have thought that she was pissed off, but for the slight breathy quality to her voice. Renfri smirked, pinching the nipple before her one last time, before dropping her hands back onto the bed and folding them behind her head, trying to appear much more confident than she truly felt.

“Whatever you want, Yen,” she gasped out, voice catching as Yennefrr’s nimble fingers continued fucking her. Yennefer smiled, and dropped her head down to lick at Renfri’s throbbing clit as she finally brought her girlfriend off. Renfri couldn’t help it- she yelped, legs crashing together as she rocked onto Yennefer’s fingers, whining as the yelp trailed off, groaning her way through her pleasure.

“Fuck,” she whispered a minute later when she had caught her breath. She glanced over at Yennefer and saw the other woman lying back on the bed, legs spread open wide. She gestured to her crotch.

“My turn, Ren.”

[shyneanon]

And the fic I started about a week ago with a MF one-shot continues! It’s now called The Boss’s Daughter and it’s up on AO3. 

I’ll continue to post it here but you can go to AO3 to subscribe or kudos or comment or whatever you’d like. It also just might be easier for people to read the whole thing there, since these chapters are long and the whole work will be in one place. Anyway, enjoy!

---

Your father was an unforgiving man.

As kind as he was to you and your mother, when he went to work, he became a different person. He did not tolerate failure, he did not tolerate deceit, and he did not tolerate disrespect. It was no wonder that he had become one of the richest and most powerful mob bosses in the city. People feared him.

And thus, they feared you.

He called you Princess for a reason. You were very much his princess. And there was no mobster in the city who didn’t know the consequences of making a wrong move around you. If he saw a man as a threat against his daughter-- whether physically, emotionally, or otherwise-- that man was as good as dead. And your father’s definition of a threat was a bit loose. He was a very jealous man. Every gangster knew that.

Well, Sans hadn’t, until Papyrus had gone on a tirade about it at him.

Truth be told, it hadn’t really scared Sans much at all. It was difficult to scare him-- though whether that was because he was tough or stupid, he wasn’t sure. Though it did make him view your encounter through a new lens. When he’d spoken with you, he’d had no idea you were such… forbidden fruit.

Unfortunately for Papyrus, whose… suggestion… was reasonable, telling Sans that you were a literal danger to him had only made you more desirable to him. It was that thrill that causes even the best of people to date partners who are bad for them: The feeling of playing with fire, of doing something despite knowing it was bad for you. You were so pretty, and you had been so much fun, but if he’d known all of this before, the spark of electricity he’d felt at being close to you would’ve felt like a thousand-volt shock. To think that he had held someone virtually unattainable-- had gone so far as to kiss your neck and the corner of your lips-- and come out of it alive?

Hell, now he just wanted to do it again.

Since he had nothing better to do with his time (well, he did, he just liked not doing what he was supposed to be doing), he’d eventually asked some of his men how much anyone even knew about you, if you were so heavily protected. Surprisingly, quite a bit, because your father liked to talk about you a lot. According to him, you were very intelligent. That didn’t surprise Sans at all, it had been pretty obvious. Well, sort of. It had been this look behind your eyes. Like you were always observing things, assessing them. No doubt you were unused to being hit on and yet you had remained cool and collected.

Heh. Maybe you’d make for a good mob boss yourself.

Your father even claimed that you helped with the business sometimes. The record-keeping and number-crunching, anyway. He didn’t like telling you exactly what your beloved daddy was doing during business hours.

It was funny how many small details had stuck with Sans’ men (and probably many others). You were just such an enigma that any information your father threw out was like a piece of a very large puzzle. You liked dancing, although you’d never actually been out dancing before. Papa was too worried about boys hitting on you. You did go out sometimes, with some friend of yours, but only during the day, and only to high-end spaces where the chances of a guy trying to put moves on you were low. An odd detail: You liked little chocolates, particularly the ones with cherry filling. Sans could vividly picture you gently biting into one, the filling as red as those soft lips. Dangerous lips that spelled death for anyone who dared to come near them.

You were just so off-limits that all you did was rile Sans up when he thought about you.

His mind raced with What ifs. What if he had just taken the opportunity to kiss you right there? What if you had agreed to his offer to show you how he could get around without being seen? What if he had been able to bring you somewhere private… and take away that innocence your father had worked so painstakingly hard to preserve?

Heheh. You would’ve been calling out “Daddy,” but you wouldn’t have meant--

“I heard that guy Acerbi is after her.”

“Acerbi? Don Acerbi?”

“No, you idiot, his son.”

Sans was snapped out of his incredibly racy daydream. “Huh? Who?”

Vinnie answered his question. “Adolfo Acerbi, Boss. The Acerbi family’s territory is right around--”

“I don’t care about that, whaddaya mean he’s after her?”

Don answered that. “Y’know, he wants to marry her. She’s an only child, so if he married ‘er, once her dad croaked he’d end up being the heir to their whole business.”

“Fuck, you serious?”

“Yeah. And for now it’d unite the families ‘n such. All that mafia stuff.”

Sans felt a surge of jealousy, even though he knew it was unwarranted. You didn’t belong to him-- well, you didn’t belong to anyone, you were your own person, even if your father wanted you to be his. Still, Sans wasn’t your boyfriend, he had no real right to feel jealous over you. Especially not the level of jealousy he was feeling right now.

But the objective truth couldn’t change the way he felt.

“Hey, Boss,” said Vinnie. “Didn’tcha say you were gonna talk with someone today?”

He was startled out of his thoughts again and checked his watch. “Oh, shit.” He got up. At least he wouldn’t be late. “Thanks, Vinnie.”

“Oh, uh, no problem, Boss.”

--

“Was he nice?” asked Mindy.

“Of course,” you told her. “He was in front of my dad.”

The two of you were sitting in a small but very expensive cafe and deli, immaculately clean and filled with people in nice dress. It was always nice to be with her, for a multitude of reasons. Firstly, she was your friend. You simply enjoyed her company.

Secondly, the cat monster was your window to the outside world.

While she was wealthy-- most monsters were after having left the Underground-- Mindy didn’t know where your father actually got his money. She was a civilian. Unlike you, she’d gone to college, and she’d been on dates with lots of boys. Ironically, despite being a monster, she knew a certain kind of freedom you’d never known. Mindy actually got around quite a bit, though you didn’t mind that. It was part of what made her interesting. She was wild, so she had a lot of fun stories.

At the moment, though, you were the one telling her a story, about the “nice young man” you’d met at the party. Adolfo Acerbi. Italian, obviously. Your parents had taken quite a liking to him, and you could understand why: He seemed well-educated, he was polite, and he had only said the sweetest of things to you.

You hated him already.

It was all fake. You could tell. He did a good job of hiding it from your parents but it was fairly obvious to you what was going on. You had no brothers. If he could just weasel his way into your father’s favor and wed you, then he could sit atop an empire made of two families’ blood, greed and arrogance. And you would be stuck right there with him. It was a no from you, but unlike Mindy, you didn’t really have any say in the matter. Mafia princesses were called princesses for a reason.

But you couldn’t tell Mindy all of that. She didn’t know where your family got their money. So all you said was, “He just wants my dad’s money.”

“Aw, honey, maybe you’re just being paranoid.” Mindy smiled at you. “Love exists, you know.”

You snorted. “I know that. It’s just… he’s sweet, but… too sweet? Too romantic.”

“Mmm, like he rehearsed it or something?”

“Yeah.”

“Ugh, those boys are the worst.” She shrugged. “Oh well. You don’t have to date him if you don’t want to.”

If only.

You considered telling her about the encounter with Sans and Papyrus-- she’d be bound to find it entertaining-- but you had the feeling that if you did she would just keep teasing you about Sans. Besides, she didn’t need to know anything about mobsters who didn’t really have anything to do with you. Your father didn’t do business with the skeleton brothers, as far as you knew, and chances were you would never speak with them again. Sans wasn’t worth mentioning.

But fate is a cruel mistress, and no sooner had you dismissed any thoughts of Sans than a large shape emerged in your periphery. Near the doorway. The shape was unmistakable.

Sans had been fun. Too fun. As much as you wanted someone in the underbelly of society to make you smile, you didn’t need it. If you had fun, you would forget just how bad your world was, and you would quit wanting to leave. You didn’t need to speak to him any more.

“What are you doing?” asked Mindy.

You realized you had ducked down and held up your menu in hopes of hiding your face. You wanted to relax, but you really didn’t need to talk to him anymore. “Nothing,” you said, though you knew she wouldn’t believe you.

“Oh my God, is it him?” She started to look around unabashedly.

“N-- no, it’s not Acerbi.”

“Not Acerbi-- Wait, is there somebody else? Is that why you don’t like Acerbi?” Her lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Oooooh, there’s a boy you haven’t told me about.”

“No, it’s not like that!” you said. But you couldn’t explain, it had everything to do with your world, and she couldn’t know about your world.

“Oh my, are you blushing?”

“What? No.” Your face didn’t even feel warm.

“Don’t lie to me, I can see it. Your face is so red.”

Well, now your face was warm. Mindy beamed. Thanks a lot, Mindy.

“Hey there, dollface. Fancy seein’ you here.”

… Fuck.

You lowered the menu. You didn’t have to look for him; Sans’ shape on your left blocked out everything else nearby. You tried to ignore the burning on your face and smiled politely. “Hello, Mr. Sans.”

“Hey, sweetheart, I toldja last night, ya can call me Sans.”

You saw Mindy’s eyes widen. Last night, no she’s getting the wrong impression, no no Mindy it’s not like that I didn’t have sex with him I didn’t I don’t even know how we would do that I just met him at a party--

You forced your mind to stop racing. “Right. Sans. Is there anything you need?”

“Just to talk to you, doll.” He winked. His smile was so genuine, so goofy despite the sharp teeth. You felt the corners of your mouth turning up and bit the insides of your cheeks to keep yourself from smiling any more. You’re just making this worse, jackass….

His voice lowered:

“What’s with the red face? Happy to see me?”

You tried to ignore your face getting hotter. “M… My friend here was embarrassing me about something.” Good, a distraction. You gestured to Mindy. “Um, Sans, this is my good friend Mindy. Mindy, this is Sans, my… um…”

Sans raised a brow. “Aww. Tellin’ me we ain’t friends?”

Oh my God, did he learn anything from last night?

“... friend,” you finished. “My friend, Sans.”

Mindy wasn’t buying it even though it was the truth. “Oh, of course. Your friend.” She wiggled her eyebrows. Still, she gave Sans a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.” His grin widened. “You look like the cat’s pajamas.” A wink. “Absolutely purrfect.”

Before you could stop yourself, you snorted, which only made Sans look more enthusiastic. You tried to hide your face again.

Mindy raised her eyebrows at him. “Oh my, aren’t you a charmer?”

He tipped the brim of his hat. “Sure, to the women I want.” His eyelights looked over at you and he winked.

You glared at him, openly this time. You are such a moron. You could literally die. For doing this. You couldn’t defend him forever.

His smile became slightly nervous. Finally, he was getting the message. Why did he have to be so thick? And funny?

“So,” said Mindy, “why are you here? You’re not stalking my friend, are you? Stalking isn’t romantic, you know.”

He chuckled. “Nah. I can’t actually talk fer too long, I’m here tah meet a, uh… business associate.”

Mindy smiled incredulously. “Business associate? What are you, part of the mob?”

You forced yourself to snicker at that, as if the idea was ridiculous. Sans blinked, looking mildly surprised-- he’d probably expected Mindy to know. Thankfully, he recovered quickly. “I wish. It’d be more exciting.” He turned back to you. “I also wanted to give you an offer.”

He nodded in the direction of the doorway and you squinted at him. You weren’t going to leave with him. Was he that stupid?

“I jus’ wanna talk over there.”

You raised an eyebrow, and felt your thumb fiddling with your menu. You didn’t need to speak with him… but you were curious. So you got up and followed him, still inside, by the door.

He dug around in his pocket. “Last night was nice.”

“Which part?” you asked coldly.

“All of it, babe, yer fun to talk to.” He pulled out his wallet and started going through it. “I was thinkin’ I’d like to talk to ya again, if ya ever want.”

He found what he was looking for and held up what was clearly a fake business card for whatever civilian job he claimed to have. He held it out to you.

“If ya ever need anythin’... like, y’know, company… jus’ give me or Paps a call, huh?” He shrugged. “Well, maybe not Paps. But me.” He flashed those shark-like teeth at you.

You just stared. What on Earth was his problem? He could easily go flirt with someone whose father wouldn’t have him shot for it.

“C’mon, babe, you were fun. I don’t meet a lotta fun people.” He held it out further. “Please?”

His pleading smile was seemed so genuine.

Whatever. You smiled politely, taking the card. “Thanks. I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

Judging from the look on his face, he could tell you didn’t mean it. He seemed… disappointed.

You felt disappointed too. Good.

He tipped the brim of his hat again. “Anyway, I’ll let you two ladies keep talking. It was nice seein’ you again.”

“Nice seeing you,” you said.

When you made your way back to the table and sat down, Mindy folded her arms. “So. Mister Sans, huh?”

“It’s not like that,” you said.

“‘Sure, to the women I want,’” she said, doing her best impression of Sans’ deep, smooth voice. She then raised her eyebrows at you as if daring you to offer an explanation.

“We met at the same party where I met Adolfo,” you said. “He flirted with me, and I turned him down.” You left out the part where you let him hold you and… kiss you. The spot at the corner of your lip that he’d kissed suddenly felt tingly. It had probably been the most rebellious thing you’d ever done, despite how much you hated the lifestyle you’d been born into.

“You what?” Mindy said, almost slamming her hands down on the table in outrage. “Why?”

“Because I don’t like him. He’s probably the dumbest person I’ve ever met.”

“Ouch,” she said. “Harsh.”  She sighed in mock disappointment. “What a shame. His name is so short. Easy to moan.”

You felt a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “Why don’t you just go sleep with him if you find him so appealing?”

“Nuh-uh. I smell a budding romance.” She made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “An intelligent girl, wooed by an unlikely man. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“That will never happen in a million--”

“Ooh, ooh, before I forget to tell you! Next weekend this… club I know…” She gave you a wink. You knew what that meant-- a speakeasy. “... is having a swing night. You told me you’ve never gone dancing before. We should go!”

You felt your heart sink, the previous conversation instantly forgotten. You shook your head. “My parents wouldn’t let me.” Too many boys.

“Then sneak out. Easy fix.”

“N… No.”

She sighed in exasperation. “Just ask, OK? Please?”

You nodded. “... OK.”

“Thank you.” She looked at the card in your hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh, just some stupid card he gave me with his number.” You turned it over in your hand.

“Mmmm, his number. You gonna keep it?”

“I already said I don’t like him, why would I keep his number?”

You grabbed your purse. Trying not to make eye contact with Mindy, you tilted the bag towards you so that she wouldn’t see the small pistol inside, and tucked the card into a pocket inside the purse. You tried to seem nonchalant about it, but when you looked at Mindy again she was wearing a massive, smug grin on her face.

“I’m going to throw it away when I get home,” you told her.

“Riiiight.” She took a sip of her water. “Of course.”

“I am,” you insisted. You just didn’t want to toss it anywhere. But you told yourself you were going to throw it away.

You didn’t.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Where you should be

7. Habromania

Genre: Hobi x oc

Warnings: this series contains stalking, blackmail, and similar stressful/fear inducing situations. Also unrequited love, which is perhaps the most terrifying of all.

Word Count: 3.2k

a/n: A song you might want to be familiar with for this chapter is ‘Puma’ by TXT. First off, because it’s a freaking bop. Secondly because Sunny has a bit to do with it and it sets some of the tone for the second part of this chapter. Thanks guys! And, as always, feedback/questions is always welcomed and encouraged!

Habromania (n.) delusions of happiness

“We can be sneaky, can’t we?”

I snort at Hobi’s question. “I can, not you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” He feigns offense, stealing his hand away from mine as he clutches his chest. It doesn’t take long before its back, though, running his fingers over my knuckles. The other hand remains on the steering wheel.

“You’re horrible at being sneaky. Imagine having to be sneaky around your boss.”

Hoseok sighs. “You’re probably right.”

“...but?”

He glances over at me before turning his attention back to the road. “But, I think I can do it. It’s important. Sure, it’ll be hard. But worth it, don’t you think?”

Giving his hand a tight squeeze, I smile out the window. “Yeah.”

As soon as we left the small restaurant, the both of us received a text from Bang PD instructing us to be extra careful and keep our distance from each other. The last thing we need are more photos.

Which left us with one question: what now?

“I feel kind of cool,” Hobi says, his heart-shaped smile making me grin. “Like we’re secret agents or something.”

I chuckle. His idea was to essentially have a secret relationship. I agreed to it, not seeing any other options, but only after Hoseok told me again and again that he had a plan and that this secrecy would be temporary.

“I give you less than two weeks.”

“Really?” The car begins to slow as we reach my apartment building. It’s barely 1 in the afternoon, but Hoseok did tell Bang PD that he was going to take me home. It’d look a little strange if we strolled back inside the Bighit building.

I give him a long look, delighting in the way his lips form a little pout. I force myself to look away before I can lean over and kiss him. Knowing him, he’d probably crash the car.

“Maybe three weeks.”

Hobi laughs as he turns into the parking lot. “How generous. And what? You think that you can do better?”

Winking at him as he parks the car, I slowly take my seatbelt off. “Oh, without a doubt.”

It’s quiet in the car as I contemplate getting out. Even though I know that I’ll see Hobi at work, I don’t know when I’ll get to be with him again like this. He seems to be thinking the same thing, killing the engine as he sits back with a sigh.

“What are you going to do with the rest of your day?” He keeps his eyes on the building, but I know what he’s thinking.

“Come inside.”

He blinks at me. “Wow, so forward!”

Groaning, I hit his shoulder. “You know that’s not how I meant it!” Hobi’s laugh only makes me more embarrassed as my cheeks heat up at the insinuation in my words. “Yah! Not funny!”

Taking both of my hands in his and placing a delicate kiss atop them, his laughter finally subsides. “I can dream, can’t I?”

I’m pretty sure my eyes are popping out of my head as I throw the door open, internally screaming and making a beeline for the entrance. Hobi gets out of the car as well, trailing after me and chuckling darkly.

By the time we make it up to my apartment, I feel like I may melt through the floor at any given moment from the way Hoseok’s eyes are practically undressing me. His fingers dance along my shoulders, getting lost in my hair as he peppers kisses along my jawline.

Fumbling with my key, I silently curse myself for feeling as giddy as a teenager with something so simple as Hoseok’s eyes. I don’t miss the way he smiles against my skin, making me huff in annoyance.

Since when did he become so bold?

I practically slam the door shut as we enter my apartment, Hoseok breaking away from me to look around the room in awe. I can’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“What, have you never been inside a girl’s apartment before?”

He rolls his eyes. “This is...this is your apartment.”

“So?”

He shrugs, wandering back over to me. “It’s nice. I like it.”

I frown, looking around the apartment. It’s a decent place to live; I’ve tried my best to make it look like a home. But in comparison to the immaculate place that Hobi calls home, I hardly see anything to marvel over.

“Why?”

Standing in front of me and looking over every square inch of my face, he gives me a smile so soft that I find myself sighing in contentment.

“It feels like you.”

♟

April 2020

Work falls into a familiar pattern. Granted, I have to avoid Hoseok like the plague, but Bang PD keeps everyone busy enough that it isn’t too difficult.

That, and the meetings we hold every day in Bang PD’s office, trying our best to sort out the entire situation.

“You’re telling me he wants either 1 billion won or a position here?” Bang Si-hyuk sputters out, looking absolutely appalled. “This...this is blackmail!”

Hobi chuckles beside me, Namjoon sitting on his other side and looking none too happy to be a part of this meeting. However, he is the leader of the group.

“Yes, well, I think he did actually state that this was blackmail,” Hobi remarks. “Are you really that surprised?”

Fixing him with a glare, Mr. Bang’s veins look like they’re about to burst. “You’re one of the people that got us into this mess, Hoseok. I’d save the snide comments for later, if I were you.”

These meetings have been going on for a couple of weeks now, and everybody's reaching the end of their patience. Any time we attempt to negotiate with Jihun, he spirals out of control and comes back with a higher demand.

It’s becoming rather tedious.

“Why can’t we just give him what he wants?” Namjoon asks gingerly. “At the end of the day, as long as he leaves us alone, it’s fine, isn’t it?”

Mr. Bang shakes his head. “No. There is no way I’m giving him that much money, and we all know that I would never let him be employed here. He’s a pimp. We don’t do business with his type.”

I stare down at my hands as I wince at his words. While I’m grateful that he isn’t considering giving him a job here, I can’t help but pity him. If what Jihun told me was true; I’m part of the reason his marriage failed.

“He has a daughter,” I mumble under my breath.

“What was that?”

I blink up at Mr. Bang. “He has a daughter.” When he just continues to stare at me with a confused expression, I do my best to articulate my thoughts. “He’s a human being. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he freaks me out. I don’t support any of this, but he’s desperate for something to help him and his family survive. We shouldn’t be making him into some sort of monster-”

“As the two of you made clear to me, this is my company that’s in trouble, so I will treat this threat as I would any other.” Bang PD sits back in his chair, squinting at his computer screen. “Or have you forgotten that your job is also at stake here?”

Clenching my jaw, I see Namjoon laying a hand on Hobi’s shoulder. “Then fix this.” Rising from my chair, the strict tone of Mr. Bang’s voice stops me.

“What?”

Turning to face him fully, I struggle to keep my voice level. “Fix this. Quit talking about it so much and do something. I have work to do.”

Striding out the door, I barely catch Bang PD’s incredulous words. “It’s a good thing she’s talented-”

Namjoon cuts him off. “So what’s our plan of action? Sunny’s right, this has to end.”

♟

I’m staring at the monitor in front of me, only half-listening to what Yeonjun is saying to me as my blood boils.

Or have you forgotten that your job is also at stake here?

I have to fold my arms in order to hide the fact that my hands are currently clenched into fists. Yeonjun and Soobin are talking to both Pdogg and I, going over a track that we’ve been preparing.

“I really like the feel of this all so far, but I feel like we need something a bit more...edgy?” Soobin frowns, looking down at his phone where he compiled his notes. “We really want to have a sharp album, you know?”

I nod, finally returning to reality. “Has anybody come up with any ideas? Lyrics, melody?”

Yeonjun shakes his head. “Actually, I was going to ask if either of you wanted to help us come up with something. I know that we’re dropping the album in May, but-”

“I can do it.”

Pdogg and Yeonjun raise their eyebrows. “That was quick.”

Pdogg shakes his head. “I think Yeonjun is talking about creating a track from scratch, Sunny. That means that after you finish the music, you’ll need to write the lyrics, too. Right?” He looks to Yeonjun for confirmation.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Honestly, if you want to do it, I won’t stand in your way. I’m just happy that you want to with such short notice.”

“You think you can crunch it? This is your first time through the entire process, it’s ok if you want to try the next time around and have more time.” Pdogg reassures, still looking confused at my sudden change in attitude.

I shake my head. “No, I can do it. I need to.” The thinly veiled threat on my job pushes me forward, desperate to show Bang PD that I’m not the kind of person that runs away under pressure.

“Alright,” Soobin says, looking at Yeonjun with a shrug. “I guess...do you need us for anything? When can we expect to come in and take a look at the song?”

Ignoring Pdogg’s stare, I glance at my calendar. “Soon. Give me the rest of the week?”

♟

My desk is a flurry of notes, post-its, and discarded ideas. After a brainstorming session, I consulted Pdogg in the next step of the song process. He helped me solidify my idea, offering a couple of tips and pointers.

He’s in the middle of saying goodbye when there’s a light knock on the door.

“I’ll grab it,” he says. I turn back to my monitor, trying to make sure I get everything put together before I forget it.

Muffled voices at the door don’t bother me as my fingers fly across the keyboard. Line after line appears, forming the first verse of the song.

“Hey.” Hobi grabs the chair that Pdogg just vacated. “What’cha working on?”

I glance at the clock, realizing with a start that it’s already 8 o’clock. “New song for TXT.”

“Hm.”

We sit in silence as I continue working, Hobi knowing better than anyone not to interrupt my creative process. He knows how hard it can be to get back into the zone.

It isn’t until nearly nearly thirty minutes later that he finally breaks the silence, but not by speaking. Bringing a gentle hand to rest atop my own that has stilled over the keyboard, he intertwines our hands together.

I lean back against my chair, sighing. Hobi chuckles lightly beside me, completely understanding the feeling.

“It looks like you got a lot done,” he mumbles, using his other hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“I think I did,” I whisper, still unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. I’ve been completely sucked in, my mind loud with the sound of the beat and the lyrics I’ve written down.

“Should I take you home?”

I shake my head. “No. I’ll take the bus.”

Silence. He raises my hand to his mouth, dusting light kisses over my knuckles. “We’re paying him off.”

Startled, I finally shift my gaze to Hobi. My breath falls short as I see his hair swept back, styled to make him look like some sort of CEO. He must have had a shoot today that I forgot about.

“Really?” I breathe out. He gives me a soft smile, pressing one more delicate kiss atop my knuckle before lowering my hand and enveloping it in both of his.

“Really. Bang PD will just have to swallow his pride.”

I chuckle lightly, shaking my head. “How’d you convince him?”

He shrugs. “I can be persuasive when I want to. We won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

While his words are intended to give me comfort, I find myself doubting them. Something tells me that this mess is far from over, but I smile at him nonetheless. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Hobi gets up from his seat, embarrassed as he starts heading toward the door. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.”

I look back at my screen. “No, I think I’ll stay here for a little longer.”

“Oh, well then I’ll st-”

“Go home, Hobi,” I turn my chair around to face him. “Don’t worry about me, I just want to finish some of this up. I won’t be long.”

“Good. That way I won’t have to wait long.” Stubborn as ever, he sits back down. “Should I order some food?”

Giving him a long look, I fight the guilt gnawing at me for making him stay even longer. But I really just want to get as far as possible with this project…

“Let me split the cost?”

Laughing darkly as he holds his phone up to his ear, he winks. “In your dreams.”

♟

“I really, really like it, Rin-ah.”

Fidgeting with my hands, I chew on my lip. “Really? Is it too much? I don’t what to overwhelm-”

Cutting me off with an incredulous look, Hoseok shakes his head before pulling my chair away from the computer. “Yes. Positive. They’ll love it. I mean, it’s such a cool idea. You said it was based off a true story?”

I nod, reaching in vain for the desk, I groan as Hobi keeps pulling my chair away. He laughs at my expression.

“Do you have a title idea?”

I shrug, finally giving in and allowing myself to be pulled away. “I’ll probably just keep it simple. Like, ‘Puma’ or something.”

Hobi throws away all of our food containers, nodding to himself. Tossing me my coat and making sure everything is saved and shut off, he opens up the door. “They’ll think it’s amazing.”

Shutting off the lights, Hobi makes a show of double checking that the hallway is clear before grabbing my hand and making his way toward the elevator. It’s only when we’re in the confines of the elevator that he asks me a question.

“What made you want to do it? This usually isn’t your style.”

I let out a long breath, instantly remembering my outburst with Bang PD earlier in the day. “I want to be good at everything. I…” I lean back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. “I know that sounds stupid, but after Bang PD said that about my job, I felt like I had to do something more. Prove myself to him.”

“Mm.”

“It was time for me to expand. Try something new. And I was already pissed off, so when the boys asked for a more edgy track, I felt like I could do it.”

“Well, you’ve done very well with it.”

I see that Hobi also has his head angled upward toward the ceiling. From this angle, I wonder how I can see him so often and still feel like it’s the first time I’m looking at him.

He looks golden in the dim elevator, the lights picking out the paler shades in his hair and setting them alight. With his hands clinging to the railing at his back and his eyes falling closed, I wonder for a moment if this is right.

“How did I get so lucky?”

I ask the question more to myself than to him, but he hears me nonetheless. Ears perking up and tilting his head to look at me almost with the same mannerism as that of a golden retriever, Hoseok shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t call this luck,” he murmurs. “We’ve fought for this, haven’t we?”

At his words, I feel the exhaustion of the past few weeks sinking in. Sneaking around and hiding our relationship from everyone hasn’t been easy. Trying to navigate a brand new relationship without being able to actually spend much time together is tricky, especially when we are still healing from the hurt we’ve caused each other over the past few months.

Closing my eyes against the reality of our situation, I tuck the image of golden Hoseok in the elevator into the corners of my mind. “Do you think that we’ll ever get to rest?”

It’s quiet for a long moment as Hobi ponders my question. We both know what I’m really asking: will we ever stop hiding?

“Someday.” His voice is solid as he answers me. “For now, I think the seconds between floors 8 and 1 are enough to keep me pushing forward.”

For now, standing side by side and quietly speaking on the elevator, basked in golden light and listening to the whir of the machine are all we need.

However, will there ever come a time when this is no longer thrilling? When Hoseok decides to just leave early rather than hanging around with me?

What if I’m not enough?

Indeed, peeking over at Hoseok who currently resembles some sort of fallen deity who’s basking in the golden light, I can’t help but wonder what it is that keeps him coming back.

Now that I’m finally giving in to his pursuit, will it be over?

The ding of the elevator reaching the ground floor does little to pull me out of my daze, and it isn’t until Hoseok is looking back at me from the other side of the doors that I push off the wall and follow him out into the night.

That night as he drops me off outside my apartment building and pulls me in for whispered ‘I love yous’ and stolen kisses, I can’t find it in myself to bring it up. How do I begin telling him that I’m not sure I’m worth the trouble when he’s sure to write it off as some sort of crazy idea?

As I go to open the door, he grabs my hand, looking at me with a concerned expression.

“You sure everything’s alright? You seem...off.”

I lean across the console, watching with delight as his eyes widen. Swooping around, I kiss his cheek before retreating, laughing a little at his deflated expression.

“I love you.”

He gives a contented sigh. “I love you, too.”

Walking into my apartment building, I hope that he doesn’t realize that I completely avoided his question. I kick my shoes off with a sigh as soon as I enter my apartment, turning around to flick on the lights and lock the door. Making my way toward my bedroom, I don’t see the dark figure resting on my couch until their dark chuckle reaches my ears.

“You were out late tonight.”

Whirling around and stumbling backward until my back hits the wall, I stare in horror as Jihun turns on the lamp beside the couch. He holds up a wine glass, giving me a saccharine smile.

“Come sit down.” Filling the glass to the brim with red wine, he extends it to me. “We’ve got a lot to celebrate.”

Previous - Next

taglist is open!

taglist: @taylorroe3​ @dreamcatcherjiah @diorhoba @eusticenatalie @ddaeng-i-need-help

[levisnackajack]

The Wrath of War

Chapter Nine

An hour into open territory and Eden began noticing the sky filling up red flares. She swallowed hard, urging her horse to continue matching her squad’s pace. 

They persistently switched courses, avoiding as many titans as they could. Eden felt like her heart was stuck in her throat as she watched a thick forest filled with immensely large trees edge closer and closer to them. Deep within her bones, she felt like something was terribly wrong. 

It was going so well until Erwin commanded Levi’s squad, along with the central column wagon escorts carrying some type of special target restraining weapons to enter the forest. Everyone did as they were told and Eden looked back to meet Eren’s cautious stare, only to get wacked across the head by Oluo as he told her to focus. 

The deeper their horses led them into the forest, the more uneasy Eden began feeling. Suddenly, the razor sharp sounds of ODM gear sliced through the air as two Scouts appeared behind the squad. Eden craned her neck as she watched over her shoulder, her heart faltering at the skinless titan with straw-colored hair and piercing blue eyes. 

She gasped as the female titan swatted the two aerial scouts like flies; the sound of their bones crunching against the trees mentally imprinting in her mind. It sprinted towards them, its physique athletic and lean, as though it was going on an afternoon jog. 

“Captain! Tell us your orders, sir, it’s catching up with us!” Petra shrieked beside her, the panic in her voice thinly veiled. The rest of the squad began voicing their concerns, each individual holding a different essence of panic in their tones as they pleaded for Levi to give them the green light. 

Eld Jinn pulled his blades out, fingers holding onto the handles tightly as he cursed the female titan in a venomous voice. Eren started voicing his own thoughts as he fought a battle of his own- unsure as to who he could trust. That was when Levi whipped his head to glance at the titan for the first time, his hooded stare giving away nothing but boredom. It made Eden feel reassured that he probably knew what was to happen. 

But, who’s to say that those narrowed grey eyes kept well-concealed panic within the Captain himself? She chose to completely disregard that thought for her own comfort. 

“Everyone, cover your ears,” Levi barked out over the sound of the horses’ hooves coming into contact with the Earth floor. They all followed his instructions as he pulled out a sound grenade. 

The blast reverberated through Eden’s core as it echoed into her brain, the sound waves hurting her covered ears. She waited for Levi to signal for them to switch to ODM; but his voice never broke the deafening silence between the comrades. She looked back at Eren with wide, hazel eyes- the way his brain was visibly processing everything as his palm inched closer to his lips. 

She listened to Petra’s pleading, her beautiful amber eyes filled with tenderness as she begged Eren to trust his team. Their goal was to protect Eren- as Levi had said- and his well-articulated speech directed to the young boy resonated deep within the young girl’s soul. Eren had the power to transform into a ravenous beast once his teeth grazed the soft flesh of his hand. But instead, he chose to sit back nervously and trust his Captain’s judgement. 

Truth be told, it shocked Eden. The boy she had grown up with was an impulsive wreck on the verge of a breakdown at any given moment. He thought with his heart, not with his brain. And to see him falter like that truly made her think just how much trust her comrades had in Levi.

She looked upwards, the muscled fist of the female titan wide open as it stretched towards Eren. Eden gripped her horse’s reins tighter. 

Then it all happened so quickly. 

The sounds of canon fire seeped through the air like a never-ending parade of lightning bolts. Flashes of yellow, orange, red and white danced around Eden as her mouth dropped. 

It had all been a well-designed trap. Levi’s silence had paid off. The trees surrounding them were filled with veteran scouts, hands pressed against the canons filled with rope that had struck the female titan in every single open area against her skin. 

They rode in silence for a little while; away from the entrapped beast. 

“Halt further upwards and switch to ODM gear,” Levi commanded, his voice calm and collected as his boots pressed against his horse’s saddle. “I’ll need to break away for awhile. Eld’s in charge. Keep Eren hidden.” His eyes moved to meet with Eden’s pained ones, as though realization that they were about to be truly alone crept into her. “And tend to my horse.” 

He flexed his gear’s grapples, the hooks ripping through a nearby tree bark; whisking him back towards the female titan. 

Eden held onto her breath until her lungs started burning, her stomach churning uncomfortably. She felt nauseous. 

“A spy. Are you sure?” Gunther’s question had ripped Eden out of a trance as they stood atop several tree branches; fists clenching against their blades.

“Well, no. But I’m sure Commander Erwin believes it. Think about it, Captain Levi had us use Eren as bait for the sole purpose of leading the titan into the trap created by the Commander. Seems to me there’s some sort of suspicions going on within the upper ranks. What if there’s someone else who possesses the same titan abilities as Eren?” Eld replied thoughtfully, stroking his chin as he spoke.

“Maybe the reason why he didn’t let you in on the plan was not because he doesn’t trust you, but because they were uncertain as to where this titan spy was placed within the ranks?” Eden continued, earning an astute nod from the second-in-command and Petra. 

Oluo scoffed, waving his weapons in the air towards Petra. “You see that, snivel-drops? Even our newbie doll over here cooked up a better assumption than you.” 

Petra rubbed the back of her neck, closing her eyes as she sighed. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I was wrong for questioning the Commander and Captain’s trust in us.” 

The chattering continued for a few more minutes until Eld instructed them to move.

They switched to ODM gear, soaring from branch to branch as they glanced up at the sky expectantly. A green flare painted a line through the sky. 

“Must be the Captain,” Eld muttered as he shot a green flare in response, letting the rest of the squad members know their course had changed. 

Eden’s sweaty palms gripped on her gear for dear life as she elegantly swooped from one branch to another; careful not to waste too much gas. That knot in her stomach continued tightening and growing; reaching her lungs as she struggled to control her breathing. 

The ghost of goosebumps licked against her skin as she noticed an extra person edging closer to her squad, blades extracted. Her scream left her throat a moment too late as the traitor’s weapon sliced against the thin flesh on Gunther’s throat. 

Everything after that was clouded by a blur of emotions and adrenaline. Eld had shoved Eren forward as he yelled for him to keep going. Eden bit her lip as she commanded herself to stay strong; the sight of Gunther’s hanging corpse becoming smaller as they sliced through the air at immaculate speed. 

“Go Eren, get back to the Scouts. We’ve got this!” Eld commanded in a hard voice, Eren’s deep-blue eyes seeking refuge in Eden’s hazel ones. 

“I can’t leave you here, I’ll fight too...-”

“After everything, do you still not trus...-”

“Eren, if you want to reach your goal. You’ll leave,” Eden spat out, interrupting Petra harshly. “You’ll go and leave it to the team designated with your protection to deal with this obstacle. Please, if you care about the promises you made me keep; that day in Shiganshina. The promises you made Armin and Mikasa swear to. If you really meant all of that, you’ll go...” Eden finished, her voice breaking. 

Eren looked like he was going through the greatest turmoil in existence. He gritted his teeth, eyes glistening as he nodded towards his comrades. Towards Eden. 

“I won’t let you down,” he forced out, memorizing the way Eden’s face contorted into a lopsided smile; her features relaxing. Suddenly, she looked like a normal 21-year old girl; her face rid from the agony that had become part of her everyday routine. 

“I know you won’t,” she whispered, her voice swept away by the forceful hands of the gushing wind. He continued onwards as the rest of the squad slowed down their gears. There was a crack and a bright light emitted through the fractures of space between the trees. Much like when Eren transformed into a titan. 

That couldn’t be good. 

The muscular form of the determined female titan came into sight as she charged towards the remainder of the Special Operations Squad. With a yell, they attached the hooks of their ODM gear to the upcoming trees, closing in on the titan. 

With Eld and Oluo flying in the titan’s eyeline, Petra and Eden lowered themselves a couple of meters above the ground. The men spiraled in the air, hooks sinking into the titans eye sockets as the two women worked on slowing her movements down. 

Blood splattered against Eden’s skin as her blade sliced through the tendons of the titan’s ankles, an exasperated cry seeping out of its wretched mouth. It grabbed onto Eden’s iron wires, yanking her away from her partially-severed foot; throwing her against a nearby tree column. She let out a bloodcurdling cry as she felt her ribs snap inside her chest, her eyesight beginning to blotch. She focused on her breathing, her lungs trembling at the pressure and pain. 

Eden didn’t have the power to pick herself up as she lay twisted against the floor. The familiar taste of metal engulfed her senses as the liquid trickled down her brow, staining her skin, lips and teeth. She felt so helpless, utterly vulnerable- served like a fresh meal on the decaying ground.

The sound of blades fracturing flesh sounded around Eden- her eyes squeezed shut as the blood and headache punctured her brain. She heard screams, first a female one...and then a male one calling after her. 

By the time she had managed to squeeze one eye open; her heart had dropped down to the pit of her stomach; the screech that came out of her lips terrifying and broken.

Petra’s body lay crushed up against a nearby tree, her soft, strawberry-blonde hair moving with the breeze. Oluo’s corpse settled against the ground several meters away from her. Eld was gone too. They had been defeated. 

Accepting that picking herself up on her two feet would be practically impossible; Eden dragged her body towards Petra’s; her salt tears mixing with her crimson blood. She didn’t even have enough power to cry out loud, for she had fallen into shock. 

Groaning and grinding her teeth, she pushed onwards; completely missing Eren’s transformation as he took on the female titan with vengeance oozing through his veins. 

Eden continued making her way to Petra when the sound of metal hooks clenched against the tree’s casing resonated beside her. A familiar harsh grip settled on her shoulders as he flipped her body around. 

She landed on her back, the sudden movement causing her to choke. Levi descended to his knees, his virulent eyes wide and blank. 

“What the hell happened here?” He snapped in an urgent tone as his gaze fell to Eden’s chest and the blood stains that would not evaporate. 

“I don’t know...we saw the flare. We figured you wanted to find us...turns out it was the titan in human form. It came and killed Gunther...then transformed...and...-” 

“Alright, take a breath. Are you badly hurt?” Levi’s jaw clenched as he watched Eden nod tightly, lips pursed as she bit back a cry.

“I’m not sure, Captain. I think my ribs are fractured, if not broken. If you can just help me up, I’ll finish the...-” 

“Like hell you are, brat,” Levi commanded, voice frigid and absolute as his fingers gently pressed against her shoulder. “I’ll see to Yeager. I want you to stay put; I’ll come get you when it’s done. And don’t you dare fall asleep,” he finished, scowling down at her the small sense of relief coiling within the Captain as his soldier gave him a tight nod. 

Within milliseconds; he disappeared towards the sounds of titan clashing into titan. Eden’s eyes dropped, but she shook her head to keep herself awake. She knew that in these instances, it was vital not to fall asleep. 

But as her eyes grew heavier and her fingers grew colder; that fact began completely slipping out of her mind. The last thing she could remember before her world got painted black were his stormy grey eyes that could see through everything, but reveal nothing.

Soothing movements rocked Eden out of her reverie. Her head was pounding and heavy; her ribs were crying and her heart was bleeding. 

She felt like a wreck as she slowly came back to consciousness. The horse’s hooves clashing against the even ground; distant, grim chattering and the sound of wagon wheels all overwhelming her at once. Eden shot forward, only to have her waist grabbed by the person behind her. He settled her back onto the saddle, gripping the horse’s reins from behind; his forearms brushing against her nonchalantly. 

The young girl glanced back and was met with Levi’s usual, indifferent stare. His physiognomy was so detached; as though they had just come back from regular sparring. 

“Stop moving before you topple off my horse. I have no interest in scraping the horse’s hooves for remnants of my cadet,” Levi huffed, his cloak’s hood framing his chiseled face as he silently urged the horse to pick up its speed. 

Eden looked back ahead, watching the wall edge closer and closer. 

Were they really back home? 

She paused, face contorting into a hurt expression. It doesn’t really matter. This was all for nothing. 

Walking through the city was hell on its own. The scrutinizing glares and judgmental eyes of the citizens pierced through Eden’s body. Levi had leaned over and muttered for her to ignore it all hardly tended her nerves. 

She kept her head trained forward as she listened to a male citizen push through the Regiment, conversating with the Captain directly. He was soft-spoken and his words were filled with pride. 

Then, he had uttered out her name. 

The name that had made Eden’s heart stop; her lungs fighting for air. 

He continued inquiring about her, only to be met with Levi’s screaming silence that had answered all of the citizen’s questions for him.

The following day, Eden lay in the infirmary part of the Scout Regiment’s headquarters. Eren was strapped to supplement tubes in the cot beside her, napping loudly. 

Jean came to surprise Eden in the morning. Historia, Connie and Sasha were also recruited by Levi to live in the castle. It was eerily strange having them around; as though they were cadets, fresh out of the Training Corps; eager to take down to world. 

There wasn’t much discussion, but from what Eden could remember, when Mikasa and Armin came to visit her; they had told her that Captain Levi had personally handpicked the remaining members of the 104th Training Corps, in order for them to train and protect Eren as Hange continues with their titan-shifting progress. 

As for Captain Levi; he was never around. At least not in the infirmary, anyway. He had dropped Eden off that same day and left without a word, or even a glance behind his shoulder. It stung Eden. 

“Did you hear that Captain Levi had a girlfriend?” 

“No- I think she was his fiancée.”

“What was her name?”

“Petra, I think? Petra Ral.” 

She listened to Sasha and Connie discuss the deceased girl as a chill struck through her. 

Were they sweethearts?

Eden gripped her sheets until her knuckles grew pale; a white, hot ball of fury coiling within her. She wordlessly fumed, her mind soaring from question to question. Why did she feel hurt and discomfort at the words uttered out by her comrades? 

Brushing the queries aside; Eden concluded with the fact that she was just mourning. With everything happening so quickly, the youthful cadet did not have enough time to properly grieve away her feelings.

But even Hange came to visit her in the infirmary. Could it be that he was blaming her for what happened to his squad...his beloved? 

Eden pulled up her oversized pajama shirt, her fingers gliding against the the black bruises starkly juxtaposing the porcelain skin on her torso. 

On the brink of being broken- just severely ruptured. The nurse told her to stay away from training for the time being and be careful when she moved around. 

But, as she lay in her cot seething and battered; she began feeling disgusted with herself. Levi had saved her from the same fate she was due to experience as her fallen comrades. And he hadn’t mentioned them at least once. 

Disregarding the miniscule voice squeaking in the back of her head to head back to the infirmary; Eden made her way through the coldness of the empty hallways and towards the Captain’s office. It was past twelve, so she had no fear of running into someone unexpected. And she was almost certain he was be still be up. 

She waited for his voice to invite her into his office and she saluted him after closing the door behind her. He waved her salute off with a tired hand, his fingers seeking refuge on the bridge of his nose. 

“What is it, brat?” 

Eden pursed her full lips, ignoring the growing pain in her temple. He looked almost as bad as her. The skin under his eyes a ghastly coal color, the way his brows scrunched in the center revealing a different, more unmasked side of him. 

Her charcoal locks swished against her shoulders as she made her way to his desk, arms folding awkwardly against her chest; careful not to meddle with the bandages under the thin fabric of her shirt. 

“I just came to ask you how you’re doing,” Eden said in a soft, almost gentle way. Levi finally looked up at her. 

“I’m fine,” he declared in an even tone; his expression a blank canvas that made Eden perceive that he could be feeling any type of way right now. But, she would never know. 

“I’m sorry the expedition was classed as a failure. I wish I could have done better...to help Eren...to help them...” Eden’s voice broke off in a whisper as she barely managed to finish the sentence. She felt as though she was at the brink of falling into a vortex of insanity; her heart couldn’t cope with the flickering images of her fallen squamates in her mind.

“You did what you could,” Levi stared up at her from his chair as he paused, lips pressing against his teacup. “There’s no point for you to start blaming yourself for things you can’t change.” 

Eden huffed, his insensitivity striking her across the face. She pushed the stray strands of hair behind her ears as she meticulously reflected on her next words. 

“I know- I mean- I’ve heard that you and Petra were close,” she rushed as he turned his frigid stare back to her face, “I understand if you think this is none of my business; but if you feel like you want to vent, I’m here to listen.” 

“Right. Is there anything else you need?” Levi asked slowly, almost as though it were a question. Eden couldn’t think properly in that moment as she began feeling that pit of anger and despair bubble up within her. She felt like this flame was too powerful for her to tame as it slurred within her circulatory system; making its way to every inch of her body. Every crevice was filled with this lawless, bewildering animosity that blocked her from thinking straight. 

She huffed, turning her back to Levi as she stalked towards the exit. Her fingers covered the doorknob, muscles pulling the heavy door open. But before she could stop her own actions; her arm slammed the door shut with a loud thud.

Twisting her body around in Levi’s direction; Eden’s eyes blazed with hot fury and torment as she strode over to his desk. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She yelled at him, her ribs pressing against her lungs in a twisted way; the reaction resulting with her almond eyes brimming with tears. Levi’s lips parted slightly, the frown growing deeper, his eyes widening slightly.

 “No no, I mean it, what the hell is wrong with you? How can you sit there, commanding everyone to clean and train and prepare for the worst when you lost your entire squad?” Her voice was filled with emotions, her heart palpitating in her chest, so hard she could barely hear herself over the sound of her blood rushing. “It’s all about trust and being a team; but when they are gone, you suddenly stop giving a shit? I haven’t even being in your team for that long; I understand if expecting you to at least ask me how I’m feeling could be a little far-fetched; but what about Oluo? And Gunther and Eld? And Petra?” Eden cried as he slowly stood up, his left eye twitching as though he was ready to beat her to death. 

“I don’t know who the fuck placed all these fairytales in your head, but you need to calm down and start thinking straight,” Levi warned her in a low, phlegmatic way. 

She let out a heartsick laugh. “That’s a twisted way of -once again- avoiding your emotions. How can you be so heartless...-” 

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Levi barked out, catching the way she flinched at his tone. “You know absolutely nothing about the way I feel. How can you stand here whining because I didn’t physically show you my grief?”

 With a few long strides; Levi stood before the quivering girl. He clutched her by the jaw, shaking her as he yelled in her face. “You don’t know how many people I’ve watched die. You have absolutely no idea how it feels knowing that the people you were once in charge of are now dead.” 

Levi roughly let go of a distraught Eden and she winced as her heart clenched painfully. “Didn’t you come to me saying you feel this weight of responsibility on your shoulders? I thought you- of all people- would understand the pressure of obligation meant,” the Captain spat at her, his voice dripping with venom.

And torment? 

Eden couldn’t believe her Captain. She stood there trembling and thrashing back at the images of her fallen comrades as they flickered through her mind as though they were imprinted into an album. 

Levi watched her carefully with his peripheral vision. Eden walked back towards him, jabbing a finger against his chest as the tears began flowing down her cheeks. “You don’t get to guilt trip me into feeling shitty for coming to you now. Or that night. And maybe I don’t know what it must feel like to lose people over and over again; but when I do lose someone I care about; I can’t exactly keep a blank face on and go around telling people to clean the second floor for the third fucking time that day because you miraculously found one speck of dust on the staircase railing.” Her jabs turned into shoves as she let out an overpowered cry. 

It was all too much. His eyes, his apathetic voice, Petra’s smile long-gone, even Oluo’s frustrating quips. Eden’s knees weakened as she felt him grip her biceps; the devastated sobs coming out one after the other. It was the type of pain that clenched her heart until she physically couldn’t think properly- knowing there was nothing else to be done but accept the fact that she needs to move on.

She fell to her knees and Levi smoothly dropped beside her. Eden fell back against his chest, her shoulders convulsing, the tears a never-ending river of sadness stroking her skin. She felt his arms awkwardly embrace her smaller frame; side pressed against his body as she cried into him. 

Eden didn’t even have the power to feel sadness anymore. Numbness crept through her, but that somehow sliced through her heart in a different type of way. 

Nonetheless, she sat crying in the Captain’s office and he was more than willing to let her do so.

As always, thanks for reading! The link to this story in AO3 is: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28919136/chapters/70952145

[remember-to-be-gentle]

This piece is completely self-indulgent and I miss my sexy ghost uncle :(

Subject: The Demon Road Trilogy, Milo Sebastian aka the Ghost of the Highway

Title: Between a Charger and a Hard Place (Fem Reader)

Trigger Warning: Non con, crying, fingering, demon car, Reader is fucked inside a demonic car

You started crying when your battery died. You were alone on an unfamiliar road with only your cell phone able to produce light. The moon was new and the stars were useless. Who knew how far you were from home, or civilization for that matter. How close a hungry mountain lion lurked, or where an angry bear would strike. There was no cell signal out here either, no way to call AAA or even your family to let them know you were safe. 

No one.

And then, headlights swung around the corner, the engine of a car covered in shadows growling so loud it raddled you from the inside out. Your body tensed, fight or flight instincts struggling for control over you. This was help, you thought, there was no reason to get anxious. And yet you were.

The car's speed slowed, the growling engine settling into a quiet snarl when the headlights stopped moving. The car had stopped. The engine cut out, leaving the endless night full of silence. 

You swallowed. 

The cabin light flickered to life, yellow like a Halloween moon, illuminating a lone driver. He was looking at you. Handsome, square jaw and unruly black curls framing his brown skin. His eyes were the same dark shade of black, eyes that seemed to bore into you like a hawk that had caught its prey. 

You swallowed again. Something told you he wasn’t help.

The man stepped out of his vehicle. It was an old car, you understood immediately, probably a 1970's Charger. You didn't really know cars that well, but you’d seen a lot of Supernatural. 

He stalked across the road to you, the sounds of his cowboy boots crunching gravel the only noise that dared disturb the silence. The closer he got, the more of him you saw: streaks of silver in his hair, creases around his eyes and mouth. He was older than he held himself, ageless in his confidence and stature. He leaned against your door and knocked on the window.

Your battery was dead, so you couldn't roll it down. You opened it and he backed up. "Hey," he said, "you okay?" Immediately, your anxiety faded. He must be help. 

"My battery died," you said honestly, "you wouldn't happen to have a signal out here, would you? Or jumper cables?" 

He looked you up and down and then smiled, the act making your system flood with endorphins. He was really handsome. "I don't, have either that is, but I'll give you a lift into town. But only if my car likes you." 

You both laughed, but his felt... fake.It must have been flirting and he must have been nervous that his car would break down: cars that old didn’t function well on narrow roads like these, that’s how lots of people died. "What's your name?" You asked.

He gave you that charming smile again. "Milo. You?"

You have him your name. The two of you walked to his car, Milo petting the doorframe as if he were calming an animal before he opened it for you. 

Up close you could see that the car, despite its age, looked brand new. "She's beautiful." He must have been one of those motorheads that kept his car immaculate and then cried when a bird pooped on it. 

Milo seemed to beam at the compliment. Definitely a motorhead. "Most people call her an ‘it.’" 

You winked playfully. "I know a car is a man's most important tool," you replied.

He gestured to the car and you slipped in. He closed the door after you, the cabin light suddenly going black. "You have no idea." Milo went around to his door and settled in, the light coming on the moment he was touching the car again. Old cars could be finicky like that. "Seatbelt." You obeyed. He turned the key and the Charger roared to life, the headlights flashing red for a moment. You blinked and they were white. 

Milo drove out onto the road. And immediately, your anxiety was flaring, screaming for you to get the fuck out of this car. You ignored your instincts and let him drive, wringing your fingers in your lap as sweat slipped over your skin. And then, just as soon as he'd started driving, Milo pulled over. "I can't do this." 

That agitated your anxiety, bile clawing at your throat. “Can’t do what?” Your voice was shaking.

Milo sighed, put his head on the steering wheel but didn’t cut the engine of his car. Or unlock the doors. “I’ll give you two choices.” He didn’t look at you, his voice low as the engine. “I can kill you and feed your soul to my car, or,” he paused, listening for your reaction, any creaks that indicate you were reaching for the locked door handle. You sat still. Deathly still. 

You shouldn’t have trusted him, but you were too scared to do anything. You sucked in a breath, trying to calm your panicking heart but nothing was working and Milo wasn’t giving you your other option. The option that would reveal that this was a all a funny joke and you’d both laugh and he’d drive you into town. 

He didn’t press. 

You did. “Or?”

Finally, Milo looked at you. “Normally I don’t get passed the first option before they start screaming.” He wasn’t joking. He kept watching you like he was waiting for you to shed your mask of calm and jump on the door, pounding and screaming for freedom. “The other option is to let me fuck you.” The charger’s engine was quiet compared to the impact of his words. 

“Fuck me?” You whispered. Kill you or fuck you? Your instincts were right. You should have run when you’d seen this handsome stranger pull up. “No, I... I think I should go back to my car and pretend I never met you. I won’t tell a soul I saw you, promise.” 

The Charger growled. Milo adjusted his crotch, licking his dry lips. “I’m letting you pick. You won’t get another chance.” Tense silence filled the car despite the roar of the engine. “Normally I would have just smashed your car into a pancake, and you by extension, but I... I have another hunger that I need sated. And I don’t want to play with a... a corpse.” 

Your pulse spiked again. “I think you should let me go,” you said again, “I really think that right now you should unlock this door and let me go.” Your heart was going faster than a startled rabbit’s. Milo wasn’t joking, you could tell by the discomfort on his skin, the itch to do something he wanted: kill or fuck. Oh God, he wasn’t fucking joking. If the car could devour your soul, there was no reason to even attempt the door. You were fucked. Or rather, you were about to be and then he’d feed you to his car.

Milo sighed. The door swung open. You didn’t question it. You bolted. 

You didn’t get far. 

Milo snagged you by the back of your shirt, dragging you across the unpaved road and shoving you onto the trunk of his car. The metal  hit your skull, making it sing inside you. It hurt. Milo pressed you hard against it. “The Charger,” he growled in your ear, “can digest a living body fast. Undead ones are harder on her stomach. Do you want to end up in the trunk, Y/N, or do you want a stranger to fuck you for ten, uncomfortably, pleasant minutes?”

He was pushing into you, his cock hard against your clothed cunt. “Please,” you begged, tears springing to your eyes again, “I just want to go home.” 

You heard him unbuckle his heavy belt, then unzip his jeans. Sweat was forming on your palms. “You’re privileged to have a home.” He yanked down your pants, roughly shoving his thick fingers into your entrance, feeling your slick ring of muscle and stretching you out by spreading his fingers to get ready for him. You whimpered against the Charger which seemed to purr under you, excited for what was about to happen. Milo roughly shoved a thumb into your clit, your knees immediately locking against one another to try and stop him, but Milo was firmly between your thighs. “And you’re privileged to get a choice.” When you didn’t reply he added, “Women usually like me.” 

“They probably aren’t raped on a demonic car,” you hissed at him. 

He paused. “Would you rather be raped in a demonic car?”

Was he being serious? “I’d rather not have any of this happen, actually.” 

He ignored that comment and started rubbing your clit again. His fingers started to slide in and out of you, gathering slick quickly like he knew all the buttons to get you wet and relaxed for him. Once he heard your treacherous cunt start to squelch under him and your muscles suckle at him, he removed his fingers and slipped his cock inside. 

He was undeniably big, filling you completely and then some. Your body tingled from the sensation, a strangled cry escaping your throat. His thick fingers dug into your hips, pulling you back until the head of his cock was kissing your cervix and then pushing in further. You were accommodating him easily, too well. You didn’t like that he was able to play your cunt to whatever tune he liked, but you couldn’t fight back against him or else his car would eat you. 

Slowly, he dragged his cock out and then pushed back in, rocking slowly as the Charger continued to purr under you, warm like the sun was still on it. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” Milo purred, resonating with his car, “I know women like you well, your parts that is. I know how to navigate your cunt until you’re crying.” As if to prove himself, Milo dug into your g-spot suddenly making you cry out. You were glad you couldn’t see his face, you knew he must have been smirking behind you, satisfied with how easily he pulled your puppet strings. 

And then headlights rounded the corner. Milo swore, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you inside the Charger. He slammed the door after him, the cabin lights shutting off the moment he’d settled into the car. 

Another car. A chance to be saved. You started to shout, but Milo covered your mouth and then thrusted up into you, the sensation making your entire body stiffen. It was up to them, they needed to realize you were being held hostage in a demonic car. Tears welled up in your eyes. 

They stopped, saw the two different cars, and the fact that one of them still had their engine going, and seemed to decide that everything was fine before driving off. 

“We can’t stay here,” Milo muttered. He adjusted his seat, pulling back and pushing you against the wheel. “Drive. I’ll mind the gas.” 

His cock was still inside you. His hands were still on your hips. He expected you to drive down a windy, narrow cliff with his fat dick pumping inside your cunt. “No.” You sobbed. “Don’t make me.” 

“Then turn around,” he growled, “and hold onto me. Either way, I’m not done with you.” 

“I’ll kill us,” you sobbed. 

“Then turn around.” 

“You’ll kill us.” You sobbed, again. 

“I won’t.” He was barely giving you a choice again. Reluctantly, you turned to face him, his hands still on your hips to keep his cock where he liked it. Then he pulled your arms behind his neck, adjusted his seat again, and shifted the car to drive. It lurched under him, responding to his touch smoothly as it started its descent down the cliffside. 

Milo put one hand on the wheel on the other on your hip, pinching you to start moving. You swallowed a sob and obeyed. You lifted yourself and speared yourself coming down. Heat gathering at your core. Milo pinched you again and again until you’d built up a solid rhythm, up and down as he drove, trying to ignore the way your body swayed with each turn and how good he felt inside you even though this was the last thing you wanted. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, groaning as he went, the Charger’s engine sounding pleased as it purred down the cliff. It was reacting as if it were being ridden by a terrified stranger. 

“Faster,” Milo snarled in your ear, “move faster.” You obeyed, biting your lip to stop the sob of pleasure and fear. You slammed harder and faster onto him, choking on a moan when you accidentally hit your own g-spot. Milo didn’t seem to mind, pinching your hip to keep you moving. He wanted you to do it again. 

“Please,” you begged, “just let me go.” 

Milo shushed you, “We’re almost done.” He kissed the side of your head, making your stomach twist. “You’re allowed to cum, too.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

He remained silent and pinched your hip. 

You obeyed and swallowed your sobs, fresh hot tears streaming down your face and wetting Milo’s hair. He didn’t seem to mind. You kept riding him and kept swallowing your sobs as his dick hit your g-spot and you had no choice but to cling to him as both your ends were approaching. You were going to cum on a demon’s dick. 

Milo seemed to be growing impatient. He pulled over to the side of the road and put the cark in park before he wrapped his arms around your waist and started slamming into you, fucking you roughly until you were screaming for him to slow down. You didn’t want to cum. You didn’t want to cum. You didn’t—. You screamed as heat enveloped your body, something in your core snapping as your cunt sucked on Milo’s dick for his cum. He shot it inside you, hot and plentiful. Milo didn’t pull you off him, instead burying his face in your neck again. “I like,” he said, “I really, really like you.” 

The driver’s side door swung open and Milo walked out into the night, still inside of you. 

“Are you going to let me go?” Your voice was small.

Milo didn’t respond. He opened his trunk and cold dread welled up in your belly. “I haven’t made up my mind.” And then he was dropping you inside and slamming the trunk closed.  

[starryknight09]

That’s not how Ironman goes out

Febuwhump Day 7: poisoning

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

Peter pulled his grey hoodie on, practically bouncing on his feet as he finished dressing.  Today was going to be the best day.  He was headed over to Ned’s this morning to work on the new Star Wars Lego set his friend had gotten for his birthday last week, and then he had plans to take MJ out to a new Mexican-Korean fusion restaurant she’d been talking about ever since it opened last month.  They’d been together for almost three months now and he still loved seeing the look on her face whenever he surprised her.

“Peter can you come here for a minute?” Aunt May called from the living room.

“Yeah!” He answered, not thinking anything of it.  He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and toed on his shoes, checking his phone for any messages before pocketing it as well.

He made a detour to the kitchen to grab an apple out of the bowl on the counter, enjoying the crunch of it as he took a huge bite before turning to find May sitting on the couch across the room.

“What’s up?” He asked, barely understandable, around a mouthful of apple.

“Come here.” May patted the couch cushion next to her.  The oddness of the invitation made him stop and focus.  He noticed a characteristic crinkling in the corner of May’s eyes, something she only did when she was worried and trying to hide it.  It was an expression he’d seen more than a few times ever since she’d discovered his vigilante identity.

“What’s wrong?” He moved to stand in front of her.

“Sit down honey.”

“No, I’m good.  I have to get going to Ned’s soon or I’m going to be late.  I promised I’d be there by noon.” He said, checking his watch for show.  The way May was acting made him want to escape.  Made him afraid.

“I need you to sit down.” May patted the space next to her again.

He had the irrational urge to whine, ‘I don’t want to.’  To stamp his feet and refuse.  Because no good news ever came from scenarios like this.  But instead of refusing, he forced his knees to bend and hesitantly sat down next to his aunt.

May reached out to hold his hands.  “Honey, I have to tell you something.”

His heart started racing.  “May, you’re scaring me.”

“You know how Tony had that fundraiser last night?”

He nodded.  Tony had invited him, but it was a stuffy black-tie event, which wasn’t really his thing, and Peter had already had a readymade excuse not to go.  He’d made plans with MJ and hadn’t wanted to disappoint her by cancelling.  Tony hadn’t minded because Peter was heading up to the cabin tomorrow to spend the weekend with him where there wouldn’t be a bunch of uptight old people milling around.

“Well,” May continued, “we’re not sure how it happened yet, but somehow someone managed to slip something into Tony’s drink.”

His stomach dropped out of his body.  No.

“Is he dead?” His voice trembled, afraid to hear the answer.  Afraid that the reason May had positioned him here was to deliver the news that his last remaining father figure was gone.

“No honey.” May reassured him and his eyes closed as he let out a sharp breath of relief.  She squeezed his hands.  “But he’s very sick, and they’re doing everything they can, but we just don’t know yet what’s going to happen.”

He bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering as tears welled up in his eyes.  This couldn’t be happening.

“Why would someone do this?” He managed to choke out the question.

“Oh honey.” May tugged him forward into a hug.  “I know.  It doesn’t make any sense.  They think it was someone from that ridiculous group.”

Peter clenched his jaw.  He knew exactly what group she was talking about.  After Tony had saved everyone, and almost died in the process, a group of zealots had become vocal about how reversing the snap had set back all the environmental progress Earth had made after losing half its population.  They hated Tony for what he’d done.  They believed life had been better before the reversal because the human race was no longer multiplying at a rate that the Earth couldn’t sustain.  Apparently, there’d been less hunger.  Less pollution.  Less war.  But infinitely more heart ache.  Peter didn’t think any of the other stuff even came close to canceling that out.

“I think we should go see him.” May suggested, rubbing his back as she held him and the tears slid down his cheeks.  “Just in case.”

In case he died.  The words went unvoiced.  The very thought that it was even a possibility made him want to scream.  Because of some hate group.  He should’ve gone to that party.  Maybe he would’ve sensed something.  Maybe his ‘Peter tingle’ would’ve caught on.  But no, he’d chosen to hang out with MJ instead.  

“Yeah.” He said, trying to get a handle on his emotions.  “Let’s go.”

“Ok.” May gave him another tight squeeze before releasing him.  “He’s at the compound.  I’ll drive.”

It’d taken months, but they’d rebuilt the compound, like some sort of symbol, bigger and better, in the same place where it’d been desecrated.  Peter usually felt some amount of awe whenever he drove up to it, but not today.  A numbness had descended upon him ever since he’d gotten in the car.  It was as if he couldn’t process any more emotion, good or bad, until he knew if Tony would be ok.  Like a kind of limbo.

The clop of his sneakers on the immaculately polished floors echoed ominously throughout the silent halls. May had tried to throw her arm over his shoulders in support on the walk in but he’d shrugged it off.  Even though he desired the comfort, he hadn’t wanted to be seen as weak by any other Avengers they might encounter.  They already looked at him like a child.

He and May rounded the corner and Peter stopped up short.  Tony’s door was at the end of the hall, and he was almost afraid to cross the remaining distance.  He didn’t want to see him hooked up to machines with wires attached and tubes coming out of him.  Seeing him like that was always hard.  The man was supposed to be larger than life, so anytime something happened where he actually appeared mortal, it was like the cosmic forces were out of sync.

“Come on baby.” May nudged him forward with a hand against his back.

Peter took a deep breath and managed to put one foot in front of the other again.  He could do this.  He had to.  He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t see Tony and something happened.  When they got to his door, Peter paused again, but he forced his hand to grip the door handle and twist it open.

“Hey kid!” Tony greeted him cheerily, sitting up in bed and not looking at all close to death.

Peter froze, not quite believing his eyes.  His gaze shot over to May, wondering if this had all been some sort of cruel trick, but she looked equally shocked.  His eyes darted back to Tony, afraid to believe it.  But the man seemed fine.  Maybe a little drawn and tired but not on death’s door like he’d been led to believe.

He took a halting step forward, not quite ready to trust it, and worried that too much hope might shatter the mirage in front of him.  

“What’s wrong Pete?” Tony frowned.

“You…you’re ok?” He asked, taking another step forward.

“Yeah I’m fine.” Tony held an arm out towards him, encouraging him to come closer.

Peter hurried over to him, grabbing Tony’s arm once he got close enough.  He was real, solid and warm

“You’re ok.” He repeated as if in affirmation.

“That’s what I said.  Try to keep up kid.” Tony smirked at him, and Peter felt his resolve crumble.  Relieved sobs bubbled up and out of him, shaking his frame.

“Shit.  Come here.” Tony pulled him into a comforting hug.  “I’m fine.  I promise I’m fine.”

A minute later Peter heard the familiar click of heels enter the room behind him, but he didn’t lift his head, still working on regaining his composure.

“Oh.” He heard Pepper say in surprise.  “Oh May.  I’m sorry.  I forgot to call you back.  As soon as I got off the phone with you Bruce figured out the antidote and an hour later Tony was fine.  I can’t believe I forgot to let you know.  I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok.  I’m sure you had a lot on your mind.” May reassured her.

“Still, that’s no excuse.  Oh sweetie I’m sorry I scared you.  It was touch and go there for awhile but Tony’s going to be fine.” Pepper placed her hand on his back.  He really didn’t want her to feel bad.  He tried to pull himself together.  Tony was perfectly fine.  He wasn’t going to die.  

Peter took a deep breath and pulled away, wiping his eyes as he sniffled.

“Sorry.  I didn’t mean to fall apart.” He gave them a tight smile.  “I just—  Well, we thought you were dying.”

“Dying?  You told them I was dying?” Tony threw an accusatory look at Pepper.

She crossed her arms and raised her voice, “We thought you were dying.”

“Pfft.  It’d take more than some crazy zealot to take me out.  Don’t you know me at all honey?”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“I mean seriously, poison?  That’s not how Ironman goes out.” Tony shook his head and then looked at him with a smirk.  “Right?”

“Right.” He agreed with a nod.

“If anything, it’ll be in a blaze of glory.”

It took every ounce of Peter’s being to not think about Thanos and Tony snapping the gauntlet, coming as close as anyone could to death.

“Yes, at the rate you’re going, you will probably blow yourself up someday.” Pepper deadpanned.

“Hey!” Tony said indignantly.  Peter couldn’t help it.  He snorted out a small laugh, the numbness and fear inside him finally melting away.

“No,” May smiled, joining in the fun, “it’s going to be—”

“Old age.” Peter interrupted, not wanting to think of any other possibility at the moment, not even in jest.

They all quieted down, and Tony looked at him, a soft smile on his face and eyes alive and twinkling.  “Yeah. Old age.  That could work.”