#while the researcher is kind of oblivious to it but slowly catches on

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Still thinking about a silly long form fic that's like. You're an entomologist and Pouf is your study subject

[flightlessribbons]

JOHTO

KRIS: The daughter of a retired Pokemon ranger, and the sister to Solana, a pokemon ranger in the Fiore region. Because of this, she was raised with a deep care and respect for nature and wild pokemon. Cousins with Lyra, and is one of 3 grandchildren to the daycare couple in the Johto region. Could come off as a bit awkward to people and tends to be a wallflower in most social settings. Hardworking and determined, but her perfectionist tendencies could stress her out a bit. Has insane luck that she's oblivious to.

Childhood friends with Ethan, and gave him the nickname "Gold" because of an old inside joke. Both her and Ethan looked up to Professor Elm, and aspired to be great pokemon professors when they were older. Works hard to be where she is in battling, after growing up being known as weak and not capable of being a strong trainer. Studied a lot for pokemon battling, and sees it as a very technical thing compared to Silver and Gold. Determined not to let go of her childhood dream even after she became champion, she doubled down to become a pokemon professor. She defends her co- champion title at various points of the season, but is constantly worrying about if she's doing a good job at both dreams. Studies pokemon relationships and works at Professor Elm's lab with Ethan. The two of them also live down the street from the lab together.

THE LEGENDARY BEASTS: Saw Suicune briefly multiple times throughout her journey, but had the chance to battle her in the tin tower- to which after defeated, the water pokemon approached her and stood in front of her. Kris tried to leave, but Suicune blocked her path- shaking her head until Kris got the hint to throw a PokeBall. Battled Raikou randomly while doing some research. After she won the battle, Raikou refused to leave her side, even with his injuries, so Kris caught him just to heal him in the pokemon center. After his wounds were fixed, she tried to release him from the PokeBall, but the electric beast didn't want to leave. In a trip to the burned tower, she saw Entei standing alone, not even instigating a battle with her like the other two- even as she walked up closer to him. She released the other two from their Pokeballs to greet their old friend, and sat down next to them while they played for a while. Eventually, the three calmed down and Entei sat next to her until she offered a PokeBall his way.

ETHAN: Son of Professor Elm, Childhood friends with Kris. Social butterfly and makes friends wherever he goes. Followed in his dad's footsteps and became a pokemon professor- and studies breeding patterns and shiny Pokemon. Helps out at the daycare a lot, and always treats any pokemon with kindness and compassion. Has a knack for pokemon battling, and Kris comments he could easily take on the elite four if he really tried- which Gold always shrugs and tells her me might one day. Has also picked up his dad's habit of talking to Pokemon like human children- especially the baby Pokemon. Kris teases him endlessly for it but finds it very endearing. Spends most of his days out on the field when he can. Enjoys photography, and makes pokemon documentaries on the side.

HO-OH: Accompanied Kris and the beasts to the Tin Tower one day, and as the three beasts roamed outside of their Pokeballs, Ho-Oh appeared before them, shaking the tower and causing something to fall over and injure Raikou. Ethan made his way slowly to Raikou under the Ho-Oh's stare, but helped him out of the debris and healed his wounds. After Raikou was alright, the three beasts gathered around Kris, but Ho-Oh kept their attention on Ethan before flying away. A rainbow wing was left in its wake, which Ethan kept. He ended up visiting the tin tower with the feather many times over the next few months, all leading to encounters with Ho-Oh. Ethan talked to the bird like an old friend, never making moves to catch it, until Ho-Oh refused to let him leave one day while motioning to his bag. The ball only shook once after he threw the PokeBall.

SILVER: Lost contact with his father years ago, but has long since given up trying to find him again. In a relationship with Lyra, and gets teased endlessly about it from his best friends. Became an elite 4 member at Kris's persistence and actually enjoys the challenge. Isn't arrogant and rude as he was when he was a kid, but has retained his sharp tongue and low tolerance for bullshit. Mentored a trainer from Alola once, though Kris and Ethan never met his trainee.

LUGIA: Not long after Kris won the champion title, Silver challenged Bill's sisters for the tidal bell, and traveled to the Whirl islands to challenge the beast that was said to live there. Managed to weaken and catch Lugia, and forced Kris to a battle with the legendary. He ended up losing anyways, and ended up trying to release Lugia- apologizing for using it to gain satisfaction for his own goals. The legendary didn't leave however, and stayed next to him until Silver told Lugia it was time to go home.

LYRA: Kris's cousin who lives with their grandparents in the daycare. Works at the daycare and never cared much for battling. Her optimism and determined nature in contrast to Silver's pessimistic views or dragged on realistics is what Lyra claims makes them work so well. Friendly and lively but can be a bit of a chatterbox even though she may not mean to be.

CELEBI: Found her beat up red Celebi in the Ilex forest, but mistook it for a weird Oddish. Took it back to the daycare and nursed it back to health, and even after Celebi left after its rehabilitation, visited Lyra constantly. Lyra offered it a PokeBall- which it happily took- and (still thinking it was an Oddish) showed Ethan and Kris her new friend. Kris nearly fainted at the sight of the mythical Pokemon, and Ethan couldn't stop laughing at the fact Lyra kept referring to it as an Oddish.

[astudyincontrasts]

Hey dear! <3

I was thinking about if you perhaps wanted to write this lil drabble I have in mind? <3

Viktor and reader is taking a walk through a garden, it's spring so many beautiful flowers surrounds them.

When they get to a cherry blossom tree Viktor stops reader and steps in front of them looking at them as if there is something wrong, like something is missing and reader becomes nervous only to suddently getting a flower gently tugged behind their ear <3

Just a lil sweet idea I got, hope you can write something from this, if not then that's totally okey!^^

As you wish, my sweet Grumpy 🖤🖤🖤

The spring air was warm, breeze soft, a promise of summer looming just around the corner with far more sweltering temperatures. But not today. Today was perfect, brilliant sunshine reflecting blindingly off the fountains and small koi ponds scattered among the artfully landscaped botanical gardens, and creating lovely welcoming shady groves under trees just starting to open soft pale new leaves. Cool little havens to sprawl under in the grass and escape the bright sun sure to leave pale winter skin pink with soft sunburn by the end of the day.

It took far too much convincing to get Viktor out of the lab to accompany you to Piltover's renowned botanical gardens, had you feeling a little self conscious, a little concerned that perhaps you'd bullied him into this and he really didn't want to be there.

Of course it was just a flimsy excuse to spend more time with him, or any time with him when the full of his attention wasn't consumed in his work or research. Viktor was terribly kind whenever the pair of you spoke and he was never intentionally rude, but... obsession was too soft of a word to describe the way hextech consumed all of his focus. You'd lost count of how many times you'd got almost an hour into what you thought was deep conversation with him, only to realize suddenly that he'd not heard a word you said. Had just been humming absent agreement with his head buried in his work while you'd been nothing more than white noise to the background of that magnificent brain of his and those brilliantly glowing blue crystal gemstones that seemed like the only things capable to capturing his full attention.

In the end Jayce had to be the one to step in as you were fumbling trying to convince Viktor to join you in a walk through the gardens, he’d jokingly threatened that if Viktor didn't willingly go out and get some fresh air that he'd change the locks on the labs until he did. And how your cheeks had burned softly when Jayce had clapped one of those large hands on Viktor's shoulder with a little shake and an obviously meaningful glance from you to Viktor and back again before giving his oblivious partner a look. Dark brows lifted as the pair of them exchanged a wordless conversation, Jayce looking smug as Viktor's expression melted from mild aggravation to confusion to something bordering on panicked understanding as both men's eyes turned to you. Jayce smiling satisfaction at you and giving Viktor a pat on the shoulder while Viktor in turn looked like he'd prefer a quick death to this quiet awkwardness he'd found himself caught in.

But he'd come along. Met you with a thin little smile the next day at the towering, intricate wrought iron gates of the botanical gardens. Didn't even look all that put out, though you suspected it might just be a show of politeness. Nothing more than obligation to suffer this delay in getting back to his work with a smile so he didn't hurt your feelings.

“Shall we?” He asked, that lovely cupid’s bow mouth of his catching the soft curve of a cockeye smile as one slender fingered hand invited you to lead the way.

And that little uncomfortable pebble of doubt that had settled in your stomach grew slowly in weight as the pair of you walked along, you trying your best to ignore it.  Because what could be wrong on a day so beautiful?  The warm breeze gentle against your bare legs, tugging and fanning lightly at the hem of your skirt.  All the flowers a riot of soft color among the vibrant greens, and the little electric thrill of Viktor at your elbow, so close that many of his gently swaying steps had your arms brushing.

You pointed out flowers and plants as you went along, explaining little stories about each; how those orchids over there had evolved specifically to attract a certain type of insect by perfectly mimicking a stamen that looked exactly like the insect and smelled like a female in estros.  How these flowers over here were terribly poisonous to everything except this certain bird they relied upon to spread their seeds.  How the deep purple tulips, nearly inky black, were the result of centuries of exacting breeding but still no one had yet to perfect the true black tulip, a gene lost to time or nature and never to be replicated again.  

To his credit, Viktor actually seemed to listen, rather than tune you out again.

“You know quite a bit about botany.”  He remarked, after your explanation of how the symbiosis of two particular plants helped to protect each other, one driving off the pests that would eat the other, while the second plant enriched the soil with the nitrogen the first plant needed to survive.

“I know its not quite the cold, perfect science you study.”  You admitted with a little shrug, letting fingertips graze over a pink rose in passing, alarming a drunkenly fumbling fuzzy bee from its petals.  “But it is the science we’re all built on.  And at the end of the day, it’s the science of life.  Its messy and beautiful and dangerous.”

Too busy staring at your own feet to catch the long look he gave you, too focused on that unhappy little weight within to feel his soft gaze on your skin.

You finally got bold enough to slip a hand into the crook of his elbow as the pair of you stopped to admire a gloriously huge wisteria trellis trained to arch and twine over the pathway, heavy clusters of lavender flowers dangling, just begging to be scooped up in a palm and have scent inhaled.  And so you did just that, while sliding your other hand in a light grip of the crook of his arm not leaning upon the cane, like the anchor of him would keep you from toppling nose first into the flowers.

When he didn’t tense under your touch or tactfully extricate his arm from your grip when you both began walking again, but instead tucked his arm closer to his side, pressing your hand to himself, it was all you could do to repress a smile, or not to sneak a glance at him in profile.  Then again, it was always difficult not to look at Viktor; all those beautiful sharp angles of him and soft golden eyes so hard to tear attention from.  Frankly, you were shocked he didn’t catch you staring at him more frequently than he did in the labs, but then again... you were very sure he only barely registered your existence.  Convinced he never thought much about you at all, while you found it difficult to think of anything but him.

The little wisteria tunnel opened up to a grove dominated by an enormous, old growth cherry tree in the riot of full bloom.  The grass and circular pale gravel grit path surrounding it carpeted in fallen soft pink petals, more of the same drifting lazy through the breeze.  The scent of them hanging soft in the air, like a little pocket of quiet paradise broken only by birdsong.  Beside you, Viktor looked awestruck, mouth slightly open as he gazed up at the elder tree and its gnarled spread of glorious branches.  His arm tucked your hand tighter to him as he lead you both under the boughs with that slow, slightly rocking pace of his that you did not mind in the least.

He stopped there, and released your hand, drawing his arm from your grasp as you repressed a little pang of loss, but let him go.  Watched him turn to face you, something unreadable in his expression as his attention shifted from the tree to you.  Had you matching his slight frown with one of your own.  What?  Why the sudden look of critical inspection that crossed the handsome angles of his face?  The way that amber gaze ticked over you had you slipping into a dull little panic, like you’d forgotten something important; like you hadn’t brushed your hair or maybe left the house without glancing in the mirror and had an embarrassing dark smudge of yesterday’s makeup ringed under your eyes.  Or that you’d put on a pair of mismatched little earrings or forgotten underwear.

“Viktor?”  

So shocked when he reached one long arm up and plucked one little cluster of pink flowers from the tree, gave you another long, considering look before he stepped a little closer, and reached toward you.  It had you tense a for a fleeting second before his fingertip caught the fall of your hair, stroked it back behind your ear in a little tracing caress that stole all the air out of your lungs at once, and then he tucked the soft petaled flowers over that ear.  Smile spreading warm on his face as those fox-slant eyes of his softened.  Fingertips grazing along your cheek, skimming the shape of your jaw.

You realized absently that your own hand hand risen with no help from you, to touch fingertips to the back of his wrist.

“Yes, perfect.”  He murmured, almost more to himself than to you, had your heart clench a wonderfully painful little squeeze in your chest.  Forced you to drop your gaze as looking at him became too difficult, convinced if you stared any longer you’d never be able to erase this moment from your memory, would hold it far too precious for the innocent silly thing it surely was.  

But his fingertips scooped under your chin and lifted, and for a breathless minute the world was nothing but you and him and that cherry tree.  Soft petals scattering down as he leaned in, mouth parting for yours.

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Hello, I'm writing a story where a group of people slowly come to realize that the town they've been staying in over vacation is under supernatural possession by a ghost of sorts, and I was wondering if you had any writing advice to make sure that the reveal isn't suddenly slapped in the audience's face like it is with the characters. Like a way for the audience to sit there knowing something's up while the characters are more oblivious to the situation building up (without outright revealing it). You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but thanks in advance if you do!

The name of the game is foreshadowing. You gotta have little things that hint at the bigger picture. The kind of things that a reader might not catch the first time around they’re so subtle, then they gradually escalate until we get to the big supernatural stuff.

The first layer should be details mentioned offhand without much attention being drawn to them. Small things that could be mistaken for flavor text that only exists to set the scene. For example, say a character walks into a little ice cream shop. It’s a location we see more than once in the story, so we get a fair bit of description for what it looks like inside. Among all the innocuous details, there’s one sentence about a little gargoyle statue on the counter. Nothing crazy about what it looks like, just one sentence to establish it exists. Then, over the course of the story, we find out that gargoyle is a cursed object at the center of the supernatural happenings that the protagonists need for the climax. Of course, in between those two events, there needs to be reminders that the gargoyle exists, with a little more detail each time. And if your plot features a mystery object, throw some red herrings in there. It could be the gargoyle, but it could also be the taxidermy jackalope in the bar.

The second layer is odd goings on that have or are capable of having mundane explanations. Someone behaves strangely or weird things happen around town. Maybe the characters hear about them and dismiss them before experiencing things themselves, but they are still able to right them off with a logical explanation. Since you have multiple characters, you have a good opportunity for multiple POVs and for each of them to have some kind of unusual experience. If you want the reader make connections before the characters do (without making those characters annoyingly unobservant), you could have them not mention their strange experiences to one another. Perhaps one person does, and the rest of the group either doesn’t believe it happened or tease them for overreacting to something mundane. With this strategy, you can have the double reveal when the characters find out about the supernatural that all the weird stuff before the reveal was actually connected.

The third layer is weird stuff that can’t be explained away, but doesn’t go all the way on the supernatural reveal. This is a lot trickier and to be honest optional if you don’t have a very long story or want to prioritize the post-reveal story. This one is the most dependent on the specific context of your plot. But as an example, a classic structure is that the one character who opened up about their strange experience and wasn’t satisfied with the mundane answer starts researching stuff related to it, maybe the town’s local folklore. They come across a supernatural explanation of what they experienced, but maybe also the experiences of the others. Then, they come across some new thing, much more intense than the others. Hard cut to one of the other characters going through that more harsh experience. I might even consider killing them if that’s the kind of story you’re going for. But either way, the groundwork for the reveal is set, and that part is up to you.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

The Perfect Pet

Shinobu Kochou x They/Them Reader AU

A/N: This could be considered a part two to You Cat to be Kitten Me, but you could totally read this without having read the other. I’ll just link the other fic in case you’re interested (LINK). Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 3,454

Shinobu knew when she had let herself be dragged to the animal shelter by (Y/n) that it wasn’t going to be a simple visit. ‘Just to look,’ they had promised, but now, here Shinobu was watching (Y/n) stare up at her from their crouched position on the floor as they rubbed the puppy’s belly with hopeful eyes.

“No.” Shinobu said, not unkindly.

“I didn’t even say anything yet.” (Y/n) pouted in return, scratching the soft puppy’s furry neck.

“It’s written all over your face. We are not getting a dog, (Y/n).” Shinobu hated to tell them no, but she really couldn’t stand such furry animals.

“How about a cat?” (Y/n) asked, looking just as hopeful.

“No.”

“A bunny.”

“No.”

“A ferret.”

“No.”

“A—“

“(Y/n), we’ve talked about this. I’m not living under the same roof as some slobbery, wiggly, furry beast. If you want to play with an animal so badly, you can always visit Mitsuri’s cat, or her new rabbit too for that matter. Is that what brought this on?”

“A little,” (Y/n) stood up, forgoing eye contact with Shinobu to scan the rows of animals.

“A little, hm?” Shinobu crossed her arms, “and whatever else could possibly be at play?”

“It’s nothing,” (Y/n) shook their head, “want to grab lunch now?”

Shinobu tilted her head and gave (Y/n) a questioning look. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t nothing. Still, she wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of this stuffy room and wash her hands. She could question them about it later.

“Lunch sounds wonderful.” She smiled, looping (Y/n)’s arm with her own.

They waved at the volunteers and thanked them before heading out of the shelter and back to their car. They drove to one of their favorite spots with outdoor seating that overlooked the river, talking casually and laughing together while they waited for their food to arrive.

“You remember I have been invited to be a guest speaker at Kyoto University next week, right?” Shinobu had asked between bites.

“Yeah, why? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing is wrong per se, I was also asked just recently if I could stay a few days more to oversee a new experiment. You don’t mind do you?”

“Of course I don’t mind, dear. I love how passionate you get about new projects. I hope you have fun.” (Y/n) smiled, though something seemed a bit forced about it from Shinobu’s perspective.

“Are you sure? I haven’t committed to it yet.” Shinobu tested.

“I’m sure, really. Why are you giving me that look?”

“What look?”

“The worried, suspicious kind of look.”

“It’s just that you have seemed kind of out of it since we left the animal shelter. You said it was nothing, but I’m not quite sure that’s true.”

“Shinobu, it’s fine, really,” (Y/n) assured as they paid for the meal, “do you want to go on the river walk trail before we head home or...?”

“What I’d really like to do is find out what’s bothering you.” Shinobu grumbled. Nevertheless, she took (Y/n) by the hand and led them down the path.

Plenty of people were out, enjoying the warmth the sun had to offer. Of course that meant a lot of people were out with their dogs as well. Shinobu took to using (Y/n) as a barrier whenever a dog veered too close to her, sniffing them with wagging tails. (Y/n) was all too happy to intercept the furry canines that they came across.

“This path should really be wider...” Shinobu would mumble, tugging (Y/n) along so they wouldn’t dwell for long.

“We’re almost back to the car. You’ll be okay, I’ll protect you.” (Y/n) teased, staring at Shinobu adoringly. Their hand was squeezed tightly while someone with a big St Bernard passed them by, its tail brushed against Shinobu’s thigh, making her shudder.

Shinobu heaved a huge sigh of relief when they got back into the car. As (Y/n) drove, Shinobu rolled down the window to send any little hair she found on her pants flying out on the wind.

“So, today was fun, right?” (Y/n) asked tentatively while taking the last turn to their house.

“Today was, something.” Shinobu shrugged. Yet she smiled sweetly and patted (Y/n)’s leg. “But any day I get to spend with you is a good day.”

“Aww, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The couple made the safe return to their house and lazed about for the rest of the day. When dinner came around they cooked together, spinning, teasing and brimming with cheer all the while. It was after they had gotten ready for bed and (Y/n) flopped into the covers beside Shinobu that the doctor decided to try her luck again.

“So what was on your mind today?” Shinobu asked while she turned on her side to observe her partner.

“You’re still on that?” (Y/n) poked Shinobu in the ribs, “let it go.”

“No, I want to know what’s wrong. I’m leaving for Kyoto soon and I want to get this all sorted out so it doesn’t fester while we’re apart. No matter how small a matter you think it is, anything that concerns you matters to me.” Shinobu spoke seriously.

(Y/n) was ready to deny Shinobu again up until she loomed above them on the bed with such stern eyes.

“I just miss you, you know. I guess I get kind of lonely when you’re away.” (Y/n) admitted.

“I miss you too. We always find time to text and facetime, that helps doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. The house though, it just feels empty without you. Of course I’ve got work to do too, but when I’m done and you’re not around, I just feel kind of sad.”

“You could always invite my sisters over, you all get along so well and Mitsuri and Iguro or any of our other friends and family.” Shinobu suggested, mildly upset with herself for not noticing sooner.

“I have before, but I can’t commandeer everyone’s plans every time you’re gone for an extended period of time. You don’t have to worry though, I find ways to keep myself busy.” (Y/n) said, snuggling deeper into the covers.

“I won’t stay the extra days, I’ll email the professors right now.” Shinobu moved to get out of bed but (Y/n) pushed her back down and held her in place.

“No need for that. I don’t want you to skip out on opportunities to grow your research for me. See, this is why I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“This is why you took me to the animal shelter, isn’t it? So you had something to keep you company whenever I’m away.” Shinobu asked despite already knowing the answer.

“I’ll admit that was kind of the idea. I just wanted to see if anything would catch your eye, but I didn’t keep any unrealistic expectations. I knew you wouldn’t like anything furry. I was kind of hoping to find a hairless cat or something.”

“(Y/n), you should have told me. I would have—“

“You would have settled on something just to make me happy. I wanted to find something we’d both like.” (Y/n) rested their head on the pillow just above Shinobu’s shoulder and nuzzled it with their nose, looping an arm over Shinobu they sighed pleasantly, “It’s really okay. I’d let you know if I thought otherwise. Good night, love you.”

“Love you.” Shinobu smiled, resting her head atop (Y/n)’s.

While (Y/n)’s breathing slowed and they drifted off into unconsciousness, Shinobu was wide awake. She gently drummed her fingers over (Y/n)’s side while she searched her mind for a solution that would leave them both satisfied. Shinobu had raised fish for a time, but you couldn’t really pick them up or interact with them like one would a more traditional pet.

Shinobu slowly scooted to lay upright against the headboard and took her phone off the charger, turning down the brightness a bit when the harsh light hit her eyes. She typed the shelter into her search bar and navigated through the site, trying to imagine herself getting along with any of the animals and failing miserably.

She was about to give up and go to sleep when curiosity got the best of her and she clicked the tag marked ‘miscellaneous’. She hadn’t realized the shelter cared for such unusual animals. Shinobu smiled down at her partner sleeping in oblivious bliss. Maybe this could work out after all.

The next morning, (Y/n) woke up to the smell of breakfast and lazily swiped their arm over the bed, searching in vain for the warmth of a body they knew couldn’t be there. With a tired whine, they resigned themself to getting up and stumbled into the kitchen.

“You’re up early.” (Y/n) yawned before giving Shinobu a quick peck on the cheek. “Something wrong at the pharmacy? The clinic? Leaving for Kyoto early?”

“Must there be something wrong in order for me to get up early?” Shinobu asked. To tell the truth, she hadn’t slept much at all; she was too busy researching to do so.

“No, it’s just that you prefer to sleep in when you don’t have plans.” (Y/n) said, moving to sit on top of the kitchen island.

“Oh, but I do have plans.” Shinobu cryptically corrected, standing between (Y/n)’s legs.

“You do, do you?” (Y/n) smiled, “do these plans involve me at all by chance?”

“In fact, they do.” Shinobu kissed (Y/n) before stepping back a bit to look them in the eyes. “So eat your breakfast and get dressed so we can head out.”

“Head out? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

(Y/n) and Shinobu finished their breakfast, showered and got dressed. Shinobu started up the car and they went off on their way. (Y/n) asked her a few more times for even just a hint but Shinobu simply smirked, holding a finger to her sealed lips.

She couldn’t keep the secret forever however, especially not after (Y/n) realized what road they just turned on.

“Shinobu, what are you doing?”

“Just trust me.”

“I trust you, but what are we doing back at the shelter?”

“Come with me and you’ll see.” Shinobu said, already getting out of the car.

(Y/n) unbuckled their seatbelt and quickly followed behind their partner, wondering just what idea could have gotten into Shinobu’s head. They managed to catch up to her just as she greeted the volunteer working the front desk.

“Good morning, we’re here to see Puppy.”

(Y/n) gave Shinobu a weird look, but the doctor didn’t pay them much mind as the volunteer answered after a moment of confusion flashed in his eyes as well.

“Really? That’s wonderful! Come follow me to the back.” The young man said.

While the couple followed the volunteer to the back of the shelter, (Y/n) tried to figure out how they were going to dissuade Shinobu from picking out a dog just to please them. Shinobu couldn’t even remember to speak properly when thinking about it. I mean, ‘we’re here to see puppy’? Really? Not a puppy or the puppies just, puppy. She was really just going through the motions, wasn’t she?

“She’s right in there. She has her own little set up and everything. Poor thing was surrendered to us after her owner died of old age, but she seems to be adjusting well. Serve her up a nice big platter of salad and she’ll never forget it.” The jolly volunteer disclosed.

The previous owner died, had they? That was so sad. (Y/n) frowned at the thought. The salad comment got to them however. What kind of dog would want a salad of all things?

“May we go in?” Shinobu asked.

“Sure. Let me know if you’ve got any questions. I’ll be back at the desk if you need me.” The helpful man said before making his way back down the hall.

Shinobu wasted no time in gently pulling the door open and taking a step inside, much to (Y/n)’s surprise. Shinobu ducked her head back out and motioned (Y/n) forward with a curl of her finger. (Y/n) was so confused. Shinobu looked genuinely excited to show her this particular puppy. With a slight delay, (Y/n) followed her in and looked for the dog that had somehow managed to win over their Shinobu’s heart. Their eyes roamed around the room for a moment, they blinked, and nearly broke their neck with the force they used to turn their head back to the shape that had caught their eye.

“No way.” They breathed out.

“What do you think?” Shinobu asked, moving to crouch beside the large tortoise.

“That, that’s not a puppy.” (Y/n) stated dumbly, too shocked to say much else.

“Her name is Puppy. She’s a Sulcata, or an African Spurred Tortoise. Cute, isn’t she?” Shinobu softly stroke the tortoise’s head with her finger.

“She’s massive.” (Y/n) blinked. Perhaps they were still sleeping and this was all just a dream.

“Yes, the biography they had on the website said she’s a little over one-hundred-twenty pounds. She shouldn’t grow much more if at all though, she’s well over eighty years old. Your previous caretaker took really good care of you, huh?” Shinobu said, patting Puppy’s carapace as the giant reptile slowly scooted away.

“Eighty years... Shinobu, are you suggesting we adopt this grandma of a turtle?” (Y/n) watched attentively as Puppy scooted across the floor.

“Tortoise, (Y/n). And yes, I am. She may have more years than the two of us combined, but she could very easily live another sixty years with the proper care and attention.”

“Are we even equipped to give her that? I don’t think we could even pick her up? Like, how would we even get her home and where would we put her?”

“If we decide to adopt her, there plenty of ways to safely transport her. We can set up an enclosure in the back yard and let her roam around the house. We’ll have to keep an eye on her of course, but I’ve heard she’s quite well behaved.”

(Y/n) stared at Shinobu with awe. Never would they have thought Shinobu would speak so passionately about such an unusual animal unless it cultivated its own poison or was some kind of insect. They shook their head and smiled.

“You know,” they said, crouching down to stroke Puppy’s scaly leg, “an actual dog would be easier to take care of, relatively speaking.”

“Do you not like the idea?” Shinobu asked.

“Oh no, I was just wondering if we get divorced when we’re like, eighty, who gets Puppy?” (Y/n) laughed and rubbed their arm, Shinobu had punched it a little harder than she had meant to.

They took some time to get to know Puppy, feeding her some leafy greens from her veggie platter and petting her carapace. It didn’t take long for them to become completely enamored with the old gal.

They met up with the man at the front desk again and filled out an adoption form. It would take a couple days to be processed but Puppy was as good as theirs. They quickly made their way back home to continue their research and completed all the preparations to make the house and yard tortoise friendly.

A couple days later, and the adoption went through. The couple was elated and rushed to pick up the new addition of their family and bring her home. It was a bit tricky, but they made it without any complications.

They let Puppy settle in and explore the yard enclosure first before slowly guiding her to the house with collard greens and cabbage. As they sat in the middle of their living room with the foot and a half long tortoise, Shinobu found herself wishing she could just cancel her Kyoto trip altogether.

“This was a terrible idea. Now I never want to leave the house.” She sighed.

“Aww, it’s like Puppy is your baby. Your very old baby.” (Y/n) said, feeding Puppy another leaf.

“We never did discuss if we were going to give her a new name.” Shinobu thought suddenly. “Any thoughts?”

“Nah, I like Puppy. It’s cute. Besides, she’s had that name for almost a century, it doesn’t seem right to change it now.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that sentiment.” Shinobu nodded.

“You just want to tell Kanae we got a puppy and watch her face change as she realizes the truth, don’t you?”

“Perhaps.” Shinobu smiled mischievously.

***

When it came time for Shinobu to leave for Kyoto, she hugged (Y/n) close and kissed them sweetly.

“I’ll miss you.” She softly proclaimed.

“I’ll miss you too. I think Puppy will too.” (Y/n) said, looking down to watch Puppy step up to Shinobu’s foot. Most likely she was looking for a snack.

“I’ll miss you too, sweet girl!” Shinobu hummed, couching down to give Puppy a quick rubdown. “You and (Y/n) take good care of each other while I’m gone, okay?”

Puppy closed her eyes, enjoying the attention Shinobu gave. Shinobu returned to her full height and gave (Y/n) another kiss before grabbing her travel bag and heading for the front door. Before she was fully out of the house, she turned back and smiled at (Y/n).

“I almost forgot to tell you. I texted Kanae about Puppy. Expect her sometime today, she can’t wait to meet her,” Shinobu waved her phone at (Y/n), “try to catch her reaction and send it to me. I really wish I held off on telling her until after I got back.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Be safe.” (Y/n) waved in return, already well aware of what Shinobu had in mind for her unsuspecting sister.

“I will. I’ll call you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you,” (Y/n) watched Shinobu leave before looking back down at Puppy. “Come on, Puppy. Let’s go outside.”

They led Puppy to the backyard with some cabbage and set her up with some hay and other enrichment materials. It was maybe an hour later when (Y/n) heard movement from inside the house. Instead of panicking, they remembered what Shinobu had said and got their phone ready. Just as they hit record, Kanae slid the back door open and jogged over to (Y/n) with Kanao calmly closing the door behind her. Apparently Kanae had convinced her to tag along.

“I can’t believe you actually convinced her to get a puppy! How did you do it?” Kanae started in on (Y/n) immediately. “Where is the puppy? Shinobu wouldn’t send me any pictures.”

“Well...”

“...That’s not a puppy.”

(Y/n) and Kanae turned to Kanao who was staring down at Puppy as she snapped at some hay. (Y/n) turned their phone back just in time to catch Kanae’s double take and the journey of her expression from disbelief to acceptance.

“I should have known it wasn’t that simple!” She groaned, “(Y/n), what did you two do?”

“We got a sulcata tortoise from the animal shelter. Her name is Puppy,” (Y/n) noticed how mesmerized Kanao was by the reptile and grinned, “she’s really gentle, you can feed her some greens from that bucket if you’d like, Kanao.”

Kanao nodded, taking a big, leafy bok choy and offering it to the tortoise with bright, attentive eyes. The youngest sister did not seem the least bit disappointed by Shinobu’s farce.

“I can’t believe her! I should have seen this coming, Shinobu has detested furry things all her life, but this is like a literal dinosaur!” Kanae sighed and shook her head, “She really got me good.”

A moment later, and the eldest Kochou sibling realized (Y/n) had recorded the whole encounter.

“(Y/n), don’t send that! Don’t give her the satisfaction!” Kanae pouted, reaching for the phone.

“I’m sorry! She asked me to before she left.”

“You don’t need to do all of your partner’s dirty work. Come on, please?”

“Already sent.” (Y/n) said, a sympathetic smile tugged at their lips.

Kanae frowned and narrowed her eyes, reminding (Y/n) heavily of Shinobu. It was a look (Y/n) seldom saw on the usually cheery woman.

“Fine then. I’m going to pet that tortoise now, hopefully she’s more well mannered than her caretakers.” Kanae turned her nose up on (Y/n) and joined Kanao in gently patting Puppy.

(Y/n)’s phone buzzed and they looked down, Shinobu had answered quickly it seemed. A simple, ‘yes!’ with a couple variants of laughing emojis. But another message soon followed reading, ‘When I come back, we’re getting Mitsuri next.’

(Y/n) exhaled an amused sound and prepared themself for Shinobu to come back from her trip. They knew that once she returned, Shinobu would continue to pull the same joke about Puppy to all their friends and family until no one remained unaware.

[mozak-hh]

Genshin impact headcanon:

How they find out they’re in love with you

I was just listening to, “love songs,” by Kaash Paige and I got really imspired to do a cute little headcanon. I would recommend listening to the song while reading this cus it is a major vibe ;)

Pairings: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, albedo

Songs to vibe to for the headcanon lol

Zhongli:

Zhongli’s not used to feeling puppy love, those feeling are beneath gods. Especially after all of his years alive, he thought love was something that had run its course. In his earlier centuries, perhaps, but never now.

After meeting you for the first time, he grow fond very quickly of your childish remarks and youthful attitude. It refreshes him to know that not everyone is made of stone. And after your first encounter he goes out of his way to bump into you more and more often.

This usually disrupts your tasks with Childe, so he is the first one who catches on to Zhongli’s little interest in you. Childe will often bicker with Zhongli about it, but instead of snapping back Zhongli will just act oblivious about it.

Zhongli isn’t the type to think extremely deeply about things, so I don’t think he’ll have trouble accepting his feeling about you. But that doesn’t mean he won’t be surprised, and it might take him a while to really figure it out.

He goes back to the place you first had lunch with him and steals collects the cup from where you sat, holding the fragile price of antique in his hand and turning it slightly, inspecting it. He then circles the brim with his thumb, sighing and putting in his pocket. He then puts it on the shelve in his office. Looking at it time to time.

Further on into your friendship with him. Zhongli finds himself idolising your form and appearance. Caressing you hair when you hug him, lifting the stands to his face for a closer look, you’ll never know that though.

He’ll offer his arm to you when you walk around the harbour with him. Letting you wrap you hand around it while talking about your latest discoveries in Liyue. Rest your head on his shoulder and you may hear him suck in a breath. Trying to compose himself. It’s not everyday gods get attached to humans. So when it does happen, you can expect them to be way more possessive than the average significant other.

Albedo:

this man is quite awkward with his feelings ok? he could write a 30 page essay on the essence of human life but not one sentence could describe the way he thrives when your around him. 

he would see you walk past the alchemy shop everyday, smiling and talking to the shopkeeper. Before he met you he wouldn’t think to much about it, but after the events in Dragonspine, he grows fond of staring at you outside the shop window, leaving his notebooks and research to sit idly and gaze. On some occasions he may even draw you, search through his notepad the next time the two of you meet and you might find out how many pages exactly he has of you. 

the first ones to catch on to his little antics is his apprentices, Sucrose mainly. Though she wont pry too much, as Albedo would often call her ridiculous for thinking such things, she’ll giggle every time she sees Albedo at the window. Knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

One day, while you are staying in Diluc’s tavern, Albedo goes wondering around the stalls in Mondstadt, buying flowers from the little girl near the gates. using his magic he evolves them into luscious blooms of colour, and begins his trek to the tavern. It is only once he reaches your room door does he realise what he’s actually doing. This is when it hits him. That perhaps you are worth more to him than his hunger for knowledge. He lets the flowers drop to floor. So many months of drawing your figure and longing for the taste of your touch and now he’s too scared to even knock on your door? he slouches and walks back to where he came from. Not bothering to pick up those beautiful flowers left behind. It is when you finally open your door to get fresh air do you almost step on them. Noticing their other-worldly hue, you knew only one man would have the kind of abilities to make these.    

A week goes by, and you and Albedo are up in Dragonspine once again to do research on more artefacts he collected. He treads lightly in the snow, gazing at the way your eyes light up as you talk. he then flinches slightly when he feels your warm hand reach for his own, and you look up at him with a smirk. “The flowers where so beautiful, it’s a shame you didn't bring them to me yourself,” you then lightly kiss his cheek and walk off, leaving him a blushing mess in the cold.  

Diluc:

Diluc is known to have little to no interest in women. Much to people’s dismay, this man has no intention of marrying a women so they can steal his money. That is until he met you, of course. 

With him money has no limits, so expect to receive many gifts during your nights out with him, or seeing him after he’s been away on business. Whether that be an embroidered lace from fancy stores, or a jade necklace all the way from Liyue, Diluc will show you a world of luxury. 

Diluc will always place you beside him at dinner parties or fancy ball. Since he’s been surrounded by vicious women his entire life, it calms him to know you’re right beside him. 

there is always a room in the tavern for you, whether you need it or not. The bartenders on duty always know you are allowed to stay after hours, and the drinks always come free of charge. 

After a month or two of receiving these perks, you grow tired of seeing so much of Diluc’s purchases, but never enough of the real him. So you seek him out at his winery. 

you have no luck finding him however, so you opt for waiting in his office until he eventually shows up. While you wait, you notice a large stack of letters, all of which have your name on it. 

Elegant, handwritten love letters. Each and every one of them. Telling you how beautiful you are, and how your smile is always on his mind. In fact, everything about you is edged into his memory, all these gifts you receive having some sort of connection to reminding him of you. The fact that when you wore the dress he bought you last week, it took him days to shake the heat from his body, the longing to touch you. 

After an hour or so of reading these letters, your face is completely red. And as soon as you begin to calm down, the red haired gentleman strides thought the door with a fat stack of papers he needs to sign. You jump from your seat, letters falling out of your lap and down to the floor as you do so. He takes one look at the papers surrounding you, and immediately know what they are. Perhaps if he had been brave enough to send these to you, he may of not been this embarrassed. 

“As much as I am glad that you finally understand my emotions surrounding you, I would have been more keen to have spoke them to you in person. But that can wait for now. How about you join me for dinner?”

Kaeya: 

This lover boy is actually very helpless when it comes to real love. After exposing himself to the elements of your personality, he falls head over heals for you. Possible one of the toughest men to come to term with their feeling to be honest. His flirty and obnoxious behaviour deceiving him in the end. 

Kaeya would prefer to see you in the morning. Having coffee before work with you is his personal favourite. It is these genuine outings that he loves most. Unlike the occasional nights of pleasure he has had beforehand. With you, he feels his heart is more precious to you, not his body. As many women would eventually go with a one night stand with the lesser brother of a rich man, than to have conversations with him over a cup of coffee. 

On a more positive note, Kaeya will start to recruit you for more and more missions just to enjoy your company. It wont be long till people start to assume you are his personal assistant for the knights. Seeing you accompany him on everyone of his outings. This is where you start to use his office.

The both of you slowly start to share the same working space after a few weeks of being on his team. Memories in his office are some of his fondest when it come to you. staying in and having dinner with him after a long day at work. Sharing stories with him during those mountains of paperwork. Joking with him during work breaks. More importantly, comforting him after heavy battles. 

When Kaeya starts to act more like a puppy around you, it is Diluc that teases him bout being a fool in love, and this is what causes Kaeya to finally understand it. Like a break in the ice. All of these months devoting his time to you, never to act on his feelings because on uncertainty. But know he knows he has you, and unlike many of these other women, you wouldn’t be going anywhere. 

Kaeya sits impatiently at the local café, tapping his finger on the table as he glows a light shade of pink. Once he’s sees you coming towards his table, his blush sharpens as he stumbles to grab the flowers he bought you beforehand.  

aaaand there! Another genshin headcanon, sorry such the long wait. I’ve been pretty busy at work :p comment if you have any suggestions x

[bluejayblueskies]

for the kiss prompts series? 67+jontim (or really Tim+anyone?) 🥺

67 - When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More

i stuck with jontim! takes place pre-canon when jon and tim worked together in research, featuring mutual pining <3

cw for alcohol

.

“Okay, that was hands down the worst holiday party I’ve ever been to,” Tim says as soon as they’re outside the Institute, tugging on the tie around his neck to loosen it. It’s adorned with little reindeer and it lights up. As Tim had so eagerly demonstrated the moment he’d met up with Sasha and Jon.

 Jon doesn’t like parties in general, so he doesn’t think he’s the best judge of what makes a party good or bad. He takes a guess. “Because of the alcohol?”

 “More like the lack thereof,” Tim grumbles as they start toward the tube station. “I know it’s a work party, but come on. Not even spiked eggnog? Not even wine? What kind of person has a party without wine?”

 “Elias, apparently.”

 Tim groans. “Don’t know what I was expecting, really. The man looks like he’s never had fun in his life, ever.” Tim slings an arm around Jon’s shoulder and pulls him into his side as he walks, and Jon tries to pretend like his heart rate doesn’t skyrocket at the contact. He’s just glad it’s dark enough out that Tim can’t see the flush of heat across his cheeks. “So, then. Back to mine?”

 Jon’s heart rate has, apparently, not yet reached maximum speed. “What?” he manages to say, his pulse hammering in his ears. He’s just glad that the word comes out mostly normal, if a bit choked.

 “The night’s still young,” Tim says, oblivious to Jon’s internal turmoil, “and I’m still in need of a drink or three, especially after all of that. I’ve got a batch of eggnog in the fridge. I’ve also got a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon—that fancy brand you like.”

 Tim knows what brand of wine you like, one part of Jon’s mind supplies. The other part says, Of course he knows what you like; you’ve been friends for a year and a half. It doesn’t mean anything.

 “Oh,” Jon says. “Yes, I’d love to- er, that- that sounds… nice?”

 He barely holds back a wince. Very smooth, Jonathan.

 “Great!” Tim says, unbothered. He pulls Jon a little tighter against his side, and when Jon shivers, it’s not just from the chill of the night air.

 In the time it takes them to get to Tim’s house, Jon has relaxed a bit, settling into a comfortable rhythm of laughing at Tim’s jokes, offering his own awkward attempts in return, and letting the warmth of Tim’s laughter soak into him like the summer sun. It’s fine, he tells himself as Tim puts a hand on his shoulder, lingering just long enough that Jon can still feel the weight of it when Tim pulls away. It’s the same as always, he tells himself as Tim grabs his hand on their way off the tube, gently guiding him through the late-night crowds and into the bite of the open air. (Tim doesn’t let go until they get to his house, which Jon tries very hard not to have a minor crisis about.) It’s just Tim, he tells himself as Tim places a hand on the small of his back as he reaches around him to grab the glasses from his kitchen cabinet. (Jon almost drops the bottle of wine he’s holding. Which would have been quite embarrassing.)

 It’s not even like this is new. This tightness in his chest, the way his breath catches a bit every time Tim smiles at him, the way he sometimes finds himself staring at Tim’s lips and wondering if they’re as soft as they look. And Jon’s not naïve. As much as he despises the word itself, he knows that at some point, he’d developed quite a potent crush. He just tries very, very hard to ignore it.

 Because, well. He hasn’t been in a relationship since Georgie, and while their breakup had been unspectacular by most standards, it still ate a hole in his chest filled with a nagging certainty that if they’d remained just friends, he wouldn’t have had to go through the pain of falling slowly out of contact with her. And he doesn’t want that to happen with Tim. So it doesn’t matter how badly Jon wants to hold Tim’s hand and curl up into his side and kiss him. He’ll ignore it like he’s been doing for the past three months, and it’ll be fine.

 But it’s getting harder and harder. Especially at moments like this one, with Tim pressed up against Jon’s side on the couch and his voice right next to Jon’s ear as he points out his favorite parts in the movie they’d put on. Jon’s unsure if the heat in his cheeks is from the proximity or from the three glasses of wine he’s consumed, and he’s fairly certain that Tim’s on his fourth glass of eggnog. Tim’s glass is shaped like a little reindeer head, which he thinks Tim had said is a reference to something. He’d been too busy looking at the way Tim’s rolled-up shirt sleeves showed his forearms to process what, exactly, it was a reference to.

 “You know,” Tim says, cutting through Jon’s train of thought, “I never really understood the whole ‘love at first sight’ thing.”

 Jon’s heart jumps into his throat. “Sorry, what?”

 “You know,” Tim says, shifting from his position against Jon’s side so he can set his glass on the table before propping his feet up next to it. His socks have felt reindeer antlers on the sides of them. Jon’s beginning to notice a theme. “One person lays eyes on the other and boom. They’re in love.” He gestures toward the screen, which is currently displaying a quite detailed kissing scene. Jon looks away, face burning. “Do people really do that? Just know that they love someone with- without knowing anything about them? Feels a bit shallow, if you ask me. You’ve got to just go based on- on physical appearance or something.”

 At a loss, Jon says, slowly, “Yes, I… I suppose?”

 “Right.” Tim nods once, like he’s settled something. “Me, though, I need to know somebody first, you know? Always used to get me in a bit of trouble in uni, falling in love with my best friends and all that. But isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? Your partner is your partner, yeah, but they’re also your friend.”

 “Right,” Jon says faintly. His heartbeat is hummingbird-fast, and he thinks his hands might be shaking just a bit. “Tim, what—?”

 “It just- it doesn’t make any sense!” Tim turns to face Jon then, his cheeks flushed and his hair a bit messy from where he’d tugged some of it free from its bun. “It’s like- like, I love the way you look, yeah, but also- also the way you laugh and the way you take your tea and the types of books you read as a child. You know, the things that make you you. I fall in love with all of the little things, piece by piece, and then I’m just- just in love. Full stop.”

 Jon thinks he might actually be dreaming right now. Or dying. One of the two. “Um,” he says, the word choked by the lump in his throat. “Are- are you using the universal ‘you,’ or…?”

 Tim is quiet for a moment. His eyes are heavy on Jon’s face, as if searching for something. Then, sounding very much like a man who’s just decided to jump off a cliff and hope that there’s something below to catch him, he says, “You, Jon. And I promise that it’s not the rum talking.”

 “Oh,” Jon says quietly. “I… I see.”

 He realizes a beat later, when Tim’s face has folded ever so slightly inward and he’s begun to move away, how dismissive that had sounded. Quickly, and a bit panicked, Jon reaches out and wraps a hand firmly around Tim’s upper arm, like if he doesn’t hold on tightly enough Tim will slip away. “No, it’s- I’m, sorry, I just- I didn’t—”

 Jon makes a noise of frustration, because of course, now that he needs them, the words won’t come easily. His eyes find Tim’s face—the gentle slope of his nose, the small birthmark by the corner of his eye, the five o’clock shadow across his jaw—before settling on his lips. And before Jon makes the conscious decision to do so, he leans forward and kisses him.

 Tim makes a surprised noise against Jon’s mouth, something low and breathy. After a moment, Tim pulls back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry,” he says, more hesitantly than Jon’s ever heard him before. “Are- are you sure you—?”

 Yes, Jon wants to say. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you.

 Instead, he leans forward and captures the rest of Tim’s sentence with his lips. After a moment, Tim’s hands go to Jon’s waist, pulling him close, and Jon slips his hands up to the sides of Tim’s face, feeling the heat of Tim’s skin against his as he kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.

 At some point, weeks later, Tim will joke that they have Elias to thank for them finally putting an end to the mutual pining, and Jon will give a full-body shudder and say that he would rather not think of Elias when remembering their first kiss, thank you very much. But for now, Jon holds Tim close and kisses him and lets the light, giddy feeling in his chest overtake him until it feels like he’s weightless and floating, grounded only by the feeling of Tim’s hands on his hips and the way Tim smiles against his lips and whispers, softly and reverently, I love you.

 I love you too, Jon says, resting his head against Tim’s shoulder to hide his smile and to try to breathe around the affection blossoming in his chest. I love you, I love you, I love you.

[jangmi-latte]

May i request headcanons for all dorm leaders reacting to a drunk s/o. Thank you!

❞ 𝐓𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐲? 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤? 𝐎𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝?  ❝

➻ content: four doughnuts!

➻ warnings: slightly nsfw on leona’s part!! mentions of alcohol!

➻ comments: since i haven’t tweaked my rules *wink* just yet, i’ve made coco use the cafe’s wheel to pick four dorm leaders for this request! hope you don’t mind! also, i don’t and haven’t drunk alcohol — ma'am this is a cafe —, therefore i did as much research (also known as making my waiters drunk) as i can when it comes to being drunk. cough also from seeing my relatives and friends go drunk cough.

Ⅰ.

༄ kalim is from a wealthy family so it’s no surprise he’s exposed to alcohol, mostly wine but kalim – being as he is still under age – doesn’t really like drinking.

༄ what he didn’t expect was for someone to sneak alcohol into one of his banquets unnoticed. even jamil didn’t notice due to his hectic schedule.

༄ sam, what have you been selling in your shop–

༄ it was a clear liquid. having nearly the same viscosity as water, you were unaware of how much you were drinking. let’s say you’re unaware of what alcohol tastes like. sure, it tastes weird but oh boy, the heat that spread out through your neck and body was quite addictive. the way it tickles your tongue makes you giggle at times.

༄ this is some odd kind of water huh, just what else does the land of hot sands have?

༄ as it was your first time drinking, it wasn’t a surprise to see you get drunk after three glasses. apparently, it was white wine. is kalim familiar with this kind of alcohol? yes. but he doesn’t know it was being served.

༄  kalim started to notice your sudden change in demeanour when you started to giggle a lot. you would suddenly cling on his arm or nuzzle your nose against his neck. 

༄  kalim's delighted by your affection, oblivious to the fact you're drunk as fuck and will continue to giggle out of nowhere.

༄ if jamil pointed out your sudden change of attitude, kalim would go “oooohhh” and just laugh along with you.

༄ now jamil would question if kalim’s drunk too.

༄ if your laughing would go out of control, ah, our little sunshine would try to stop you and drag you away. you’re light and you’re not struggling so he could easily drag you away from the banquet and into a spare room that’s next to his.

༄ if you woke up with a hangover the next day, kalim is immediately by your side while also asking help from jamil to tend to you. 

༄ you can not get away from his stories and it would make you extremely embarrassed that you suddenly turned into a maniac during one of his parties. did anyone take a video? who knows. 

༄ you now hereby made a mental note not to drink alcohol ever again. just wait till you go to kalim’s hometown where there’s A LOT of alcohol to drink. you can’t avoid it but hey at least you know how you act when you’re drunk.

༄ kalim won’t be talkative about what happened but can you guarantee it won’t slip from his lips every now and then every time a banquet is brought up to a conversation?

Ⅱ.

༄ okay, let’s give more attention to leona’s homeland, yeah?

༄ so there’s a party. it’s not dedicated to anyone, perhaps it’s an event or an occasion for the land. the royal household mostly consists of adults, it’s pretty self-explanatory that there will be alcohol.

༄ leona is used to the taste of alcohol. he isn’t exactly an active drinker but his tolerance is high. it would take him how many glasses before he’s drunk. there are different types of alcohols on the table. ranging from beer to whiskey. heck, there’s even absinthe.

༄ he chose to drink the safest alcohol served and that was a martini. since leona doesn’t want to interact with anyone – his brother is loud and catching most of the attention anyways – he just sat at the sides. he couldn’t really sleep with how loud his home was.

༄ what caught his emerald eyes was you. Oh man, was he surprised. you were easily drinking shots and shots of vodka without any trouble. sure he has seen you drink before but seeing you be this energetic and even rather frisky was….quite a turn on.

༄ though he is quite worried, he would love to see what happens when you get drunk. he thought you would just drop and fall asleep on the table.

༄ hell no.

༄ the moment you spotted him with half-lidded eyes, you sauntered over to him with a shot in had and sat on his lap. was he bothered? not in the slightest but he would glare at some men who would stare at you being all wanton on him.

༄ his first instinct? protect you. sure, you’re tipsy or drunk but that doesn’t mean leona would take this as an advantage and just have sex with you despite your seductive advances. he doesn’t mind you being all sexy on him but you don’t know what you’re doing, it’s his turn to pull the responsible card in the relationship.

༄ your consent is very important to him and drunk isn’t consenting.

༄ another thing, he wants you to just put a show for him ONLY, not in public. he’s possessive but your body is for his eyes only. 

༄, when you pressed your lips against his, leona would kiss you back for a brief second before pulling away once he noticed your sultry touches. you’re whining but this is leona’s chance to carry you to his room. both your drinks left downstairs while he just cuddles you to bed. 

༄ he’ll stop any of your persuasive actions since he could see you’re eyes drooping. he can make love to you some other time. sober you is better. if you won’t stop, ah leona would just passionately kiss you ‘til you eventually passed out.

༄ but that wouldn’t stop any future teasing from him. he’s not gonna lie, it was sexy to see you try and dominate him but again, be sober. 

Ⅲ.

༄ like leona, vil is not an exception to the haven’t-encountered-or-drank-alcohol-ever gang. being a  popular influencer/model/artist means being invited to gatherings or after production dinners.

༄ he had a couple drinks here and there but vil doesn’t like getting drunk or even intoxicating himself too much. he knows what a drunk mind can do and he has an image to hold to even let something as getting drunk slip his mind. 

༄ in short, vil hasn’t experienced getting drunk and avoids doing so.

༄ he’s also picky with what alcohol he consumes. he prefers those that have a small alcohol percentage, those that don’t leave a smell, and those that aren’t strong to taste. he’s strict with his beauty regimen.

༄ so, let’s say you were invited to one of vil’s productions and had an after-production dinner. it wasn’t exactly a formal dinner, just a casual one held by the director in a private restaurant.

༄ there was wine and brandy. our dear model picked wine, of course, and you somehow got curious with the taste of brandy. he wouldn’t stop you, he simply warned you to keep the amount stable and not drink too much. he’ll keep an eye on you just in case you might get carried away. better safe than sorry.

༄ vil took only one glass and was drinking it slowly while you looked like you were going to puke. but it was somehow addicting so you took another shot. he was occupied by conversing with other artists/staff that he would simply look at you from the corner of his eye at all times.

༄ up until he noticed you leaning on your hand propped up by your elbow and just staring at the glass did he finally approach you and immediately asked how many shots did you take.

༄ “four....?” you slurred before pulling him to sit next to you and leaning on his shoulder while hugging his arm. 

༄ you were quiet, thank goodness you weren’t really that drunk, but you’re intoxicated alright.

༄ “vil…?” “yes?” “what is rook doing over there?”

༄ okay, now you’re hallucinating. you were pointing at a staff member who nearly had the same haircut as rook. it was his cue to bring you back to pomefiore. Once he was able to excuse himself, he helped you stand up.

༄ sadly, you couldn’t really walk properly without tripping and all that so let’s be thankful that vil does weights. he isn’t keen to the idea of carrying you back and calling a cab to head back since it isn’t really a sight to see.

༄ so, he called rook and made him open the mirror while he carried you bridal-style back to the dorm.

༄ epel is jealous after he found out you were able to have alcohol.

Ⅳ.

༄ we’re going to add our king of hearts to the haven’t-encountered-or-drank-alcohol-ever gang.

༄ okay, maybe just the never-drank-alcohol-gang.

༄ riddle has a strict regimen on himself too. he considers alcohol as a junk food so it’s a big no to him. it’s also going to be a taboo for his mother. 

༄ along with kalim, he’s still a minor. alcohol is not that really discussed with anything involved in a conversation with him. academics and schools are top priority, alcohol has no space in his brain nor diet.

༄ he’s not dumb with what alcohol looks like though, so when he saw you drinking beer when he visited ramshackle, he was beyond confused and surprised. his antennas shot up too.

༄  he would scold and question on why you’re drinking something that can harm your liver and you just calmed him down by saying you barely even drink these and that you needed relief from school requirements. you also reassured it was only one bottle and you would drink it slowly. you won’t get drunk.

༄ our king of hearts is confused. since when was alcohol a mood reliever?

༄ he would huff and keep an eye on you despite being all cranky. you would just giggle it off and begin doing your homework again while he tutors you. both of you wouldn’t even notice the increasing bottles of beer that’s popping up beside you as you subconsciously drank more.

༄ don’t ask where the beers are coming from.

༄ when you started to huff and get irritated at riddle did he notice your sudden mood change. 

༄ his eyes grew wide when he saw four bottles of beer beside you. poor boy doesn’t know what to do. should he bring you to bed? feed you something? wait, are you even drunk?

༄ you were getting all cranky, you were ‘tsk���ing and growling at certain things. you would rant and pull on your hair when you would get a mistake. it was so unlike you that riddle doesn’t know if he’s getting mad himself or concerned.

༄ he eventually needed to call trey for help. when the vice dorm leader arrived, trey quickly calmed you down and sent you to bed where you quickly passed out. 

༄ poor riddle received a thorough explanation from trey about what happened and that, as your boyfriend, he should be more aware.

༄ riddle just removed all alcohols of any kind from your existence the end.

[pedropascalssimp]

Grumpy

Boba fett x fem reader

Summary: boba is a grumpy man but we love him... Also for a real summary: the reader is annoying, always talking and being a goofy person. And boba only tolerates it because he loves her.

Warnings: slight language I think? Slight jealous boba, he's also a bit insecure in this one. Fluff, FLUFF.

Pic credit to @xxrosaaa29xx I'm using your pic for scientific research purposes 👀

Also dala means "woman" in mando'a incase whoever reads this didn't know and found themselves in confusion like I do most times....

I know I also said I'd write for din more but, c'mon! My bestest friend ever here inspired me to write this!

Thank you my amazingly beautiful friend @friendscall-me-mom this was spurred on because you 👀

Boba was a busy man, he couldn't seem to hold still for more then two minutes. He always had something keeping him busy or somewhere to be, but that's the way he liked it. So ever since boba claimed the throne that once belonged to jabba the hut and later jabba's companion Bib Fortuna, boba found himself almost never leaving the palace, it was relaxing yes, a nice relaxing thing actually, but also a little too... Uneventful for his liking. So after leaving Fennec in charge over the palace, someone he knew he could trust, he brought you along with him to venture away from tatooine to accompany him on his first bounty hunt in almost six years.

When he had gruffly asked you to join him, it left you baffled. You thought he'd enjoy a nice time away from you considering he always spoke of how annoying you are, he always ignores you are tries putting a distance between the two of you. In your eye's he hated you, his actions displaying such. But in all honesty? Boba fett found himself attracted to you, his brown eyes always glued to you when you walked into the room, gaze unable to leave your figure for a second. His heart always doing the annoying flip it does whenever he hears your laugh or catches a glimpse of that beautiful smile adorning your face.

He pushed you away because he didn't know how to love you like you deserved, you was always so... Happy, bubbly personality and jokes putting a smile on everyone's face. He was afraid that if he let you love him, his usual grumpy and hardened personality would dent your chirpy one. So... He pushed you away.

But you didn't ever see the adoring looks he gave you, or the faint tug of his lips when you told a joke. All of those things went unnoticed by you, partly because the helmet he wore and the fact he always hid his emotions well. Something you found infuriating. But despite that, and his constant grumpy behavior towards you, you found yourself intrigued by the man, you couldn’t deny he was a handsome man. Dark eye's that seemed to sparkle whenever the light hit them just right. And although his words was always short, sometimes even harsh on the more stressful days for him, you found yourself hanging on to every word he spoke, his voice intoxicating, beautiful. You scolded yourself many times for falling in love with boba fett, but then again how could you not have? When he showed you rare moments of kindness - especially when you had both met on tython, you having permission from your friend din to stay with boba. Because din saw how you looked at boba, he knew you was in love with him.

But damn was boba oblivious, or either he knew you was smitten with him and just hid it well. Whatever the case, you was slightly hurt by the fact he always found a way to either distance himself from you are push you away.

Slave I was quite, boba sitting in the co-pilot seat while you let your mind roam freely to dwelling thoughts. But you let out a little laugh, the sound drawing boba's attention as he tilts his helmet in your direction.

"what's funny dala?" he asked, speaking mando'a, a nickname you've learnt well. He often enjoyed using it in a mocking manner though, it usually rolled off his tongue whenever he was annoyed or like said, mocking someone, aka, you.

You shrug, a grin on your lips. The reason you was amused though, was today's previous events played on your mind. You and boba had both stopped by a cantina on Batuu, only stopping their for fual and a bite to eat. Because you wouldn't shut up until boba finally gave in and took you somewhere to eat. And as you was both enjoying a meal, boba choosing a nice empty booth in the dark corner as he took his helmet off. A man had been flirting with you, it was harmless really, a few compliments on your beauty and a few hints of how the man genuinely wanted to get to know you better. Although he seemed nice you didn't really want to speak with him, so let him down easy.

But boba was, for some odd reason to you, pissed off with the man's constant talking. He didn't like how his eyes roamed your body, didn't like how you indulged him, and he really didn't like how he talked to you, using those flirty little comments and jokes, coaxing a laugh or two from you. Boba hated it, he was fuming. So without hesitation, boba threatened the poor man's life with a cold hard stare causing the man to flee the whole planet with fright.

Although you was slightly mad at boba in the moment, you found it hilarious now. Letting out another laugh you try and cover your mouth, stifling the laugh. "what is it?" he seemed genuinely curious but his words came out bitter.

"you scared that poor man to death boba... He literally left Batuu because of one simple glare and a few threats!" you laughed, grabbing your side because of how hard you was laughing now. "di - did you see his face!" you wheeze out through laughter, "he almost pissed his pants!" you shake your head and your laughter dies down.

Boba, unknowingly to you, had a smile on his face, Almost prideful. He focuses his attention on you now, loving the sight of your wide smile now. He had thought he angered you with how he scared the man off, he thought you was actually attracted to the other man. But seeing you laughing about the situation put him at ease, you wasn't mad at him.

"I thought he was bothering you, he was surely bothering me with his jabbering" boba tried to brush the topic off. He felt slightly annoyed he was jealous over the fact the man had made you smile and laugh. And the man was younger, his face not as scarred or aged as boba's. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt a little insecure when around you, why would you want him when the galaxy had so much more out there for you?

"oh he wasn't jabbering, he was being nice... But you scared him enough to flee the planet" you giggle, amused by the situation.

He only grunts in response, one of many signs he was in a grumby mood. You flicker your eyes down at his side, the side his beskar failed to cover.... Grinning you reach over and poke him.

"stop being grumpy" you muttered playfully, his visor snapping in your direction before falling down to look at where you kept your hand, ready to puke him again.

"I'm not grumpy princess" he harshly grunts out while taking your hand in his and throwing your hand back into your lap. "don't touch me..." he muttered. He may have came off as angry, but under the helmet he was flustered, your touch sending a delightful warmth spreading all over him, turning his face red.

Your smile filters for a moment, thinking you may have infuriated him. The sight makes him guilty until he sees you grin again. "you have to be ticklish, everyone is. I'm now making it my goal to find you're ticklish spot!" you declare cheerfully. Boba shaking his head.

"I'm not ticklish. let me be dala" he spoke while putting the ship on autopilot as he went into hyperspace. Standing up he leaves the cockpit, you following him. He walks into the cargo area, plopping down on a crate as he takes his helmet off, usual stoic expression on his face as he cleans his helmet off. A act he does out of boredom you've grown to discover.

"not ticklish eh? So you won't mind..." you sit beside him making him go stiff visibly, his hand freezing as he wiped the visor off. "this!" you slither your hand on the spot between his neck and shoulder and start tickling, but he does even smile, much to your dismay.

"please stop" he deadpanned. And you do so with a huff. "I'm not ticklish so stop" he continued wiping his helmet off.

You sigh deeply and cross your arms. "I've never seen you smile nor laugh, If I can't find you're ticklish spot then I'll tell you joke's!" you state, his face slowly morphs into one of annoyance.

"please don't... I left tatooine for two reasons: peace and to be able stretch my legs for a bit" he said while looking up at you, his dark eye's capturing you for a bit.

"then why did you invite me to join you? You know I annoy you with my presence" you say, arms crossed.

He invited you because he knew how men eyed you on tatooine with hunger, with a undeniable look of lust. He hated it, wanted to rip all their eyes out for doing so. He knew that if he left any man could waltz up to you and flirt their way into your heart. So he brought you with him because he'd be damned if he left you on tatooine, he never wanted to leave your side.

"because I knew that if I didn't you wouldn't shut up, I've heard how you wanted to leave the place for a little vacation as you put it and I had already planned on hunting so... I invited you" he muttered, blowing on the visor to ensure its clean before sitting it aside, now cleaning his blaster. It wasn't a lie, he heard you telling Fennec how you wished to escape the sands and scorching hot heat for at least a little bit.

Your heart swells at his words, to anyone it was nothing. to you... It was his way of showing affection. He knew you wanted a vacation so he took you with him, if you didn't know any better you'd say he even planned this hunt because that. But that was wishful thinking.

"did I ever I tell you the story of how Mando got zapped by those jawa's?" you snicker, knowing that would at least make him smile. But he nods, confirming you have.

"more then once mesh'la" he didn't mean to let that one simple word slip from his mouth, but it did, and from the beaming smile and small blush on your cheeks, he knew you knew what it meant.

"oh you think I'm beautiful now?" you tease, seeing the way he tensed up whenever the word rolled off his tongue, you knew that you turning it into playful banter would ease away whatever it was that made him tense like that.

"shut up girl" he grumbled while standing up, you doing so making him huff. "don't follow me around like a damn lost child!" he snaps, taking you aback slightly. But you shrug his words off, although they did hit pretty hard.

He saw that and grumbled something before continuing whatever it was he was doing. "what if I don't wanna stop!" you say with a giggle, following him to the poor excuse for a bed he used.

"then I guess I'm gonna have to face the fact you're goal and life purpose is to annoy me" he said, sitting on the bed, slowly stripping the beskar off piece by piece. You could only watch as his soft shirt he wore under it exposed the softness of him, his tummy practically begging for you to reach out and tickle it -

You grin at the thought his tummy would be ticklish, it was a mischievous glint in your eye that alarmed him. "oh no" he muttered as you grin at him and flop down beside him on his bed.

"admit it boba, you enjoy my company" you sigh with a big smile, his scoff only making you giggle. He opens his mouth to respond but whatever he wanted to say was forgotten the moment you tickle his belly, soft and adorable like you always thought it would be.

His eye's widen as he finds himself laughing, a smile on his face. He falls backwards on the bed as you crawl on top of him, straddling him as you continue tickling his belly as your heart flutters at the sight of his smile and sound of his gruff laughter.

"you do have a ticklish spot!" you laugh, his large hands resting on your hips as he flips you over, now he was hovering over you.

"you are relentless" he mused, his smile now gone and replaced back with his grumpy expression. "don't ever do that again mesh'la" he grumbled. But he couldn't deny how being so Close to you makes his desire to kiss you grow strong. Once he catches

"oh Stop being grumpy, it’s lame." you tease him, cheeky smile. He shakes his with a huff.

"You're an idiot" he retorts while rolling off of you, much to your dismay. He sits up and back in the position he was once in. You sit up beside him.

"but you love me" you said it before you could register what exactly fell off your tongue. Boba seemed to freeze beside you, making fear settle deep within your very core. "I - I didn't mean - like -

Your stuttering was shushed by the smile boba gave you, it was soft, didn't quite reach his eye's but it was still genuine. "unfortunately dala I do..." he didn't look you in the eye, instead, his cheeks starting to turn a little pink as he fiddle with a piece of his armor he picked up off the floor, he didn't want to see you possibly reject him, he didn't want to see your face when you laugh at him for confessing such a thing.

But maker was he surprised when you scooted closer and gently cup his cheek making him look at you, the genuine soft smile on your face different from the cheeky ones or mischievous ones you'd always offer the bounty hunter.

"do you mean it?" you ask him, voice barely above a whisper as your eyes search his dark brown ones for the answer, and you saw it, swimming amongst the endless brown hues of his eyes. A truthful, raw emotion besides being angry he showed you, displaying it before your very eyes. Love, adoration, truth....

"I have loved you since the moment I saw you, although I'll have to admit I thought you and you're mandalorian friend was already a couple. That's why I hesitated to talk to you so much" boba confessed, a smile beaming on your face as your eyes glow with joy. Your thumb subconsciously stroking one of many scars on his face.

"likewise, I've never seen someone quite as handsome as you before, nor as intriguing" his snort of amusement made you give him a confused look, wondering what he found funny.

"oh so you find me intriguing?" he smugly replied causing you to roll your eye's. Your free hand that wasn't holding his face, fell to his soft tummy. He tenses up and gives you a warning look. "don't" he muttered.

But you only grin at him, "why not? If you want to laugh at me I'll give you something to laugh at" you slip a hand up his shirt, his warm skin soft. Your touch had his heart doing a flip, if not for the fact he knew you planned on tickling him, he'd find this soothing.

"I wasn't laughing, just simply asking a question"

"after you let out a little laugh" you point out, he shakes his head ready to protest, but you had already begun your assault, tickling his belly. Practically in his lap again as he fell back.

You both knew that if he really wanted, he could stop you easily. But hearing his thunderous laugh echo across the ship and seeing his beautiful smile? It made you beam with happiness, a sight boba couldn't get enough of.

Needless to say, after the hunt you and boba has shared a kiss, slept in his arms every night as he claimed you as his. When you both arrived back on tatooine and into the palace you called home, Fennec had seen how boba had became extra protective over you, seeing how he couldn't seem to leave your side. She knew the hunt brought you both together, it was a relief, now she didn't have to see you both dance around your feelings for each other.

_________________________________________

[bts-teaspoonff]

Distance pt. 1

Genre: Romance, Oblivious Mutual Pining, Operation:Jealousy, College!AU, eventual smut

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Rating: PG-13 (last chapter - M rating)

Synopsis: You adore Jimin but you’ve kept it a secret from him despite being so close to him. Jimin turns out that he feels the same. Would you be able to erase the distance between you and Jimin when mountains of obstacles come both your way?

Word count: 6.7k

PARTS: 1 | 2 | 3

(A/N) I know I updated you guys about this being a oneshot but as I was writing it, it became a bit long and I was also busy with a lot right now. I will split this supposed-to-be-one-shot into two or three parts. It won’t be a long fanfic.

Loud blasts of sounds coming from the room beside mine woke me up from my nap. My brother’s speakers were on full blast, with no regards for life present inside the house that might be savoring the peaceful afternoon that was once inhabiting this house. I rolled to the other side of my bed and buried my face under the pillow. I really tried to mask the noise but apparently, he shot up the volume twofold. I trashed my blanket away from me and stood up from the bed. Still half awake, I bolted out of my room. Standing in front of my brother’s room, I bombarded his door with loud and mad whacks. He knows I take my afternoon slumber a bit more seriously so he better make sure to expect an earful from me.

“Jeon Jungkook. Open this door this instant!” I brutally murdered his door with knocks and pounds then I was greeted by a smiling Jungkook, as he opens the door with just his head peeking through. “I was taking a nap. Good dream in fact. Give me one reason now, for me not to cut the wire of your speakers.”

“I have a good one actually.” He fully opened the door and then I was greeted by two smiling angels, or little devils depending on their mood. Jimin and Taehyung, my brother’s best friends and also my batch mates in college. I was in awe at the sight of Jimin sitting on a beanbag across the room. Not a moment ago, he was fully occupying my dreams and now, he’s here sitting quietly enjoying his bag of chips. Taehyung still continuing to dance over the songs that, I might add, are making my ears bleed with how loud it is.

“You know I don’t question your music taste, but do you want me to check your ears? Are you deaf that you need to turn up the music this loud? The walls of this house are gonna crumble down any moment with how ground-shaking and deafening it is.” Jimin chuckling while taking a mouthful of chips in his hands from the bag. Jungkook was still wiggling his butt to the music. I was stealing glances at Jimin as Jungkook proceeded to turn the volume of his speakers down. “Thank you.”

“Sorry. I forgot that you were at home. I thought you were at your part time work.” Jungkook leaned on the door with his arms over his head. “Mom and Dad are on a trip so I figured I could enjoy the house.” Jimin stood up from where he was seated and I could feel a small pull from my chest as he fixed his shirt. I admired his skinny but toned arms and ethereal face, glowing from the golden hour just emanating from the windows in my brother’s room. It is not helping that he was wearing a white loose long-sleeved shirt but still shows his amazing physique, which is totally my type.

“Hey.” I could feel the heat inside my body just from this small greeting from Jimin. Gosh, I am so totally attracted to this man. “Sorry to disturb your nap. We really thought you weren’t at home.” Jungkook removed his arms on the door and went back to join Taehyung, who is still enjoying bopping to songs in the background like the comedian he is. Jimin, now leaning on the door in front of me, looked straight into my eyes while smiling. I was taken aback and found my head back up from embarrassment that he might discover the flush stamped on my face.

He threw what seems to be my brother’s heavy blanket over my chest. I looked down and caught the blanket, and stared back at him looking puzzled. “Cover up.” He jokingly grinned. I looked down again and I realized that I was wearing a spaghetti strap tank and boxer shorts. I was beet red from embarrassment. Why did I forget the lack of clothing I’m wearing and here I am still in front of my crush like I’m parading myself?.

Jimin cleared his throat.  “Are you gonna come to the party at Hoseok’s house this weekend?”

“I guess so. Are you gonna go?” I asked back.

“I might. I haven’t really decided yet.” He rubbed his nape and looked at me. It’s as if time slowed down as we both look into each other’s eyes. The tension was slowly suffocating me and I couldn’t muster a word.

“How about you go with us? I’ll drive.” Taehyung slid himself through the small space between Jimin’s body and the door.

“I thought Jimin’s not decided yet?”

“Oh.” Taehyung turned to look at Jimin. “He’s going to come to the party. I’m sure.” Taehyung chuckled.

Jimin just stood there quiet, with both his hands at his side. “Okay. You guys pick me up at 8?” Taehyung nods and proudly places his arms on Jimin’s shoulder.

“Noona, can you order pizza? I’m famished.” I saw Jungkook from behind, sitting down on his bean bag. He was sweating profusely on his forehead and trying to catch his breath. Looks like him and Tae danced their asses off.

“Sure. I was about to ask you the same thing.” I smiled as I step out of Jungkook’s room and hurriedly ran towards mine, Jungkook’s blanket still wrapped around me, to phone the pizza place. However, a part of me also wanted to quickly escape the tension that was brewing in the room.

Taehyung nudges Jimin’s side, warranting an eye smirk from Jimin. “What was that? Getting your tongue-tied?” He whispered as he stood in front of Jimin, just inches away from the open door. “You’re not doing a good job hiding your feelings.” He looked behind Jimin and towards Jungkook to make sure the younger boy doesn’t hear what he’s saying.

“What are you talking about?” Jimin whispered back.

“I’m obviously talking about y/n.” Taehyung poked at Jimin’s stomach, suprising him. “In this situation, why don’t you just confess if you’re going to be so obvious?”

“Am I really... that obvious?” asks Jimin.

“I’m your best friend since high school. I know you like the back of my hand. Besides, it’s like you become this shy little boy when it comes to her. You look so cute.” Taehyung scoffs, rubbing his hand on Jimin’s chin before walking back to Jungkook.

…..

“What was that? I thought he’s gonna hear my heart pounding.” I gently pat my hands on my chest, leaning on the door of my room. I paced around my room to calm down the party in my chest.

I used to just see Jimin as the goofy classmate and a friend of my brother’s. I already kind of know him even back then since he was slightly popular with the girls. Girls tend to ogle and chat whenever Taehyung and Jimin pass by through the halls. Come on, who wouldn’t? I admit that those two really look handsome but it didn’t faze me before. They became friends with my brother when they formed this band together with other boys from the campus.

We were once paired to present a report together in a class that we were both taking at the time when we were college sophomores. I’m not much of a talker especially to strangers. I’m comfortable enough with the company and stories of my few friends. That’s why it surprised me back then that Jimin would keep on making small talk even outside of our class while we were working together on our presentation. I just thought he would make me do all the work and not pay attention. He was really helpful with our presentation, even nitpicking all the small details.

Whenever he and Taehyung would visit my brother at home to do band practice, he would sneak in some moments to work with me on our presentation. I really saw his efforts when the date for their band performance and our presentation coincided on the same week.

“It’s okay. I can finish this. You can go back downstairs.” I was yawning in front of Jimin, while he snuck out from their practice downstairs to come to my room. He was adamant on working on the presentation.

“I want to work on this… with you.” I was sitting in front of my computer while Jimin was sitting beside me. I could feel his eyes locked on me as I let out another yawn. He slid his fingers on top of mine and I looked at him. The air in the room was ghost-quiet but my heartbeat was so deafening. It was the first time I felt shy around Jimin. I pulled my hand away from his. He cleared his throat and looked away. “What kind of a partner am I if I push all this on you? I don’t want my name to be on our work if I, at least, don’t put in this much effort.” He laughed and we both looked at each once more.

I guess I liked him since then. Ever since that night, my heart would jump at the sight of him. It’s like I got this pink sparkly filter in my eyes whenever I would see Jimin. I would become tongue-tied whenever I would be near him. I would be distracted in class, staring at him like what the other girls would do. I kept this to myself and I don’t want to be like other girls who go crazy over him and bother him. I thought to myself that my feelings would just be a waste of his time.

The week of his band performance and our presentation came. He still looks so handsome and perfect when he should be showing signs of stress and overwork. Their band practice would last until past midnight and he would allot at least an hour to work with me. I would sneak glances at his hands while I was typing and researching on the net. Sometimes, his hands would tremble from overwork. He would play the guitar for hours without rest. I could really see that he was tired. I would push him to just go home and rest since our report is almost finished but he would insist to stay in my room for at least an hour. Sometimes, he would nap on my beanbag for a few minutes then sneak back on the chair beside me to discuss our report.

Two days before their band performance, he unconsciously took a long nap on my beanbag. He was curled up like a cat, hugging his legs. He was so adorable like he could fit in my hands curled up like that. I noticed that my room was a bit cold so I took my blanket and placed it around him. As I was closing my distance from him, I heard him whisper my name so softly followed by a smile. My heart stopped and I stared at him. I wanted to caress his cheek. I was the only one to witness the cool Jimin from our campus curled up and vulnerable like this. Even if he wasn’t aware of my romantic feelings towards him, I was content with this distance. He is way out of my league. What would a cool and popular guy want from a normal college girl like me? Then I realized that my hand moved on its own and was now on Jimin’s soft and warm cheeks. I swiftly pulled my hand away and quietly walked back to my desktop.

It was not a surprise that their performance went on without a hitch and they became the talk of the campus. It was funny because Jungkook became a campus favorite as well. It was so funny to see that Jungkook would have eyes follow him wherever he would go. Girls loved his voice during the performance, screaming his name that night. All of them in the band became celebrities around the campus. Despite being the guitarist, Jimin also sang small parts in their songs and belted out high notes. I stayed at the far most corner and watched their whole performance that night. Jimin kept on searching through the crowd the whole night and there was a moment when I caught him connecting his gaze with me. His face lit up like a Christmas tree. You might even think that he was searching for me and was so glad to spot me at the back of the audience. I wish that was the case but there’s nothing bad in imagining it.

Our report was also commended by our professors, even getting praises from our fellow classmates. I was so proud of Jimin that he was able to achieve all of these achievements that week. I saw his hard work and dedication in all that he does. It makes me laugh that I had this former impression from him that he was just a typical popular guy who has no interest in anything but girls and vanity. Well, he really takes good care of himself and how he presents himself so I guess I could call him a bit vain.

The week after our report and their performance, he would still make small talks with me even outside our class. The band also frequently hangs out at our house, which made my college life a bit more chaotic but fun.

During our junior year, we barely had any class together and our schedules don’t match. I would just see him whenever he would visit my brother at home along with his other bandmates. We would occasionally eat together but only when my brother and his bandmates would push their way in my peaceful lunch time. He would sit beside me though, making my inner self very glad. I would, however, make sure that I was not so close to him since I was aware of the eyes of other girls behind him. He would show me a frown every time I would do this but I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. I don’t want him to know how I feel.

Our junior year went on like this. Not much interaction around the campus but I would be excited whenever we would be in the same place outside of school. I grew closer with their other bandmates, especially with Hoseok and Namjoon. The two of them were a year ahead of us and they both became my older brothers in a way. Hoseok would always know what to do to cheer me up and Namjoon would give me the best advices on everything. Although Namjoon is one year older than me, sometimes I feel like I’m the one taking care of him since he’s always clumsy. Whenever Hoseok is not free to offer a ride to Namjoon, he would always text me to accompany him somewhere. I share the same sentiment with Hoseok and the other members in the band that Namjoon shouldn’t ever drive for the sake of world peace.

As months go by, I grew a lot closer with those two than Jimin. We became a bit distant and Jimin would turn silent or timid whenever we would be in the same place. A few exchanges but the tension between us grew bigger. I don’t even know if he hates me, doesn’t want my company or just plain indifference. I couldn’t read him nowadays. Maybe we grew to be different people and I was just lucky that I was his partner for that one specific class report or I was just his bandmate’s sister. That’s it.

Now, we’re in the middle of our Senior Year. Hoseok and Namjoon have already graduated. Namjoon went away to live in another city to work while Hoseok stayed around here to work as an intern at a local subsidiary company of a renowned music label. Hoseok would sometimes visit Jungkook here at home with Jimin and Taehyung or he would ask us, sometimes including me, to visit him at home.

My friendship with Jimin got a little better this year compared to our junior year. Since the band is not active anymore, the three remaining boys relied on each other more. Taehyung would always barge in our house, sometimes un-announced, but not always alone. He would always come by at our house with Jimin. The both of them adore my brother too much to the point that they look miserable when separated from my brother, despite being older.

…..

“What movie do you guys want to choose in Netflix?” Taehyung occupied the far most left spot on the couch in the living room. I was still in the kitchen getting two slices of pepperoni pizza for myself and my brother. Jungkook was standing beside me, waiting patiently for his pizza. I handed him his plate and he quickly walked away to the living room. As he disappears from the kitchen, Jimin appeared. He stretched out his arm to reach for the other pizza box. Once more, the air in the kitchen became heavy.

“I’m glad you’re with my brother. He really needs the company.” Jungkook was just dumped by his girlfriend a week ago. I tried to start up a conversation with Jimin as I couldn’t take the heavy tension in the air.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, we’re here for him.” He closes the pizza box as soon as he pulls out a slice. “…as we are for you. Don’t forget that.” I looked at him and as I was about to say something when my phone’s screen lights up from beside the pizza box. Jimin also looks at my phone.

“Hoseok’s calling me. I should… answer.”

Honestly, I was taken aback from what Jimin said then I began to wonder when did we became this awkward with each other. No matter how much I try to remove the heavy air, it always just comes back up. “Yes?” I answer the call and saw Jimin turning towards the living room. He proceeds to sit in the middle of the couch.

“Y/N!!!!!!” I was greeted with a cheerful shout from Hoseok. “Are you coming to my party tomorrow?”

 “Jimin, do you want some fried chicken?” Taehyung calls for Jimin as he offers his plate. Jimin took one chicken from Taehyung’s plate. “Who is she talking to?” Taehyung points.

“Hoseok-hyung.” Jimin’s eyes still glued to the screen as Jungkook chooses a movie.

Taehyung smirks but quickly erases it from his face when Jimin looks at him. “Hey, do you know that Hoseok-hyung plans to confess to y/n tomorrow?” he whispered and nudges Jungkook who sits between him and Jimin.

Jungkook almost choked on a small piece of pizza that he was eating. “HOSEOK-HYUNG?!”

“Yeah. He called me last night to ask me to at least convince y/n to come to the party. You know how she is with new crowds. He wanted me to make sure that she will come to the party tomorrow.” Taehyung looks at his friend. Jimin was frozen in his place, silent and taken aback.

“I didn’t even know that hyung likes my sister. Wait, eww! He likes my sister. Her?” Jungkook exclaims quietly. Taehyung shushed him and knocks his head. “I’m just joking but seriously? I didn’t even realize.”

“Am I the only one around here who pays a lot of attention to their friends?” Taehyung chuckles as he takes a bite on his chicken.

“Who pays attention to whom?” I noticed Taehyung and Jungkook were laughing and causing a ruckus as I walk towards the living room. I stopped behind the couch as I barely hear what Taehyung just said.

“Nothing. I’m just a good friend to everyone.” Taehyung flashes his adorable good boy smile towards me with his eyes squinted. I giggled.

I sat on the far most right spot on the couch beside Jimin. Jungkook chose Love, Rosie and I turned, in confusion, to look at Taehyung and Jimin’s reaction at Jungkook’s odd choice for our movie night. However, they just stayed quiet as the intro scene plays out. Normally, they would bicker on what movie to play but I guess they’re refraining on doing that today since my brother needs to soothe his heart. I would admit that watching a romantic film with my brother and male friends normally warrants a confused expression from anyone but somehow, this is now our normal situation. It just warms my heart thinking that my brother has got some good friends.

…..

I honestly don’t know what dress I should wear tonight. In the back of my mind, I slightly want to look good in front of Jimin. I barely dress up or even come to a party with him. I’m also kind of tired with our current dynamic. I want to get our old dynamic back. I just want to laugh at his jokes and see him dork off. I want to ease myself around him without getting tongue tied.

I nearly tried on all the dresses that I owned. My bedroom is a mess at this point. I tossed some of the dresses on the bed while a few were on my chair. After an hour, I was satisfied on wearing my trusty red dress. Hoseok told me that some of his friends from work are present in the party and I want to look at least presentable. This is not just your normal college party where everyone would get wrecked and drunk.

I gawked at myself through the mirror. The scarlet red dress hugging the right parts of my body. I could feel fire while I stare at the figure-flattering dress on me. The way the short sleeve hugs my arm and puffs ever so slightly above the cuff up until my shoulder. I trailed my hands along the neckline. I like how it plunges just enough for a peek of my soft twins but still gives off a classy and demure impression. It gives off enough allure but not too much without looking over the top. The skirt, hugging my behind, tapers off just around my mid-thigh elegantly emphasizing my curves. I paired it with an almost-beige beret. I’m going all out here. I want Jimin to notice me and maybe, just maybe, he’ll look at me differently now.

“You look nice. Different.” Jungkook stood at my door. I turned around, alerted at his presence. He was smiling while leaning against the door.

“Really?” I shyly twirled around. I have always trusted Jungkook’s taste in fashion. If he deems my dress presentable then I’m satisfied with it.

“Taehyung’s car is already parked out front. Jimin’s downstairs waiting for you.” My heart jumped a beat from hearing his name. Jungkook walked away from the door. I hurriedly placed my trusty charm bracelet around my wrist and collected my bag from the bed. I slowly shuffle down the stairs.

I slowly noticed Jimin’s silhouette come into view as I go down the steps. He was looking out the door, talking to Taehyung who was leaning against his car out on the street. I was about mid-way down the stairs when Taehyung pointed at me to call Jimin’s attention. Jimin turns around and was obviously taken aback by what he was seeing. I unconsciously fix my posture and the way I tread down. He looking straight at me. I could feel a small ember lit up inside my chest but I was determined to catch his attention. As I put my foot down on the last step, I slightly wobble almost slipping. I quickly reach my hand out on the railing to catch myself. I saw Jimin surprised and shuffling away from the door, as if to try and catch me but stopped when I did save myself from falling.

I wanted to scream in embarrassment but I stayed indifferent. I just continued to smile until I stood a few inches away from Jimin. He was still staring at me, shyly checking me out. He looks rather ravishing tonight as well. He was clad in a white long sleeved button-down shirt tucked in his black sleek pants paired with a classic black belt. His black hair flowing across his forehead. Simple but so Jimin-like. Just the way I like it.

“You look beautiful.” Jimin smiled. I could feel my cheeks burning from his compliment. Much to my chagrin, this small compliment completely erased my inner humiliation from a while ago.

“Thank you. You look nice as well.” I beamed back at him.

We both walked out the door and to Taehyung’s car. Taehyung complimented on my outfit as well. I teased him that his outfit was the only one making his appearance work. The three of us laughed and entered the car. Jungkook soon followed.

I thought I was going to squeeze out at least a conversation from Jimin but he stayed somewhat silent throughout the drive to Hoseok’s. Taehyung was talking to me while peeking from the rearview mirror as I sat behind with Jungkook. Jimin sat in front, making small conversation but he didn’t even stole some glances towards my direction.

We finally arrived at Hoseok’s. The four of us wading through the crowd to look for the host of the party.

“Guys!” A scream came from ahead of us, hidden behind the crowd. We immediately recognize who it is. “I missed you guys!” Hoseok came running, hugging all of us. I almost panicked at the sudden contact and looked for Jimin. I’m glad he was not beside or else, my chest would be buried across his arms. Instead, Jungkook was the recipient of this dreaded moment. Luckily, I pushed the thought aside since it’s just my brother.

“Hyung, we missed you.” Taehyung frowns and hugs Hoseok. He hugs Taehyung back.

“I heard the baby of the group got dumped.” Hoseok releases Taehyung from his arms and looks at Jungkook. Jungkook shyly laughs and hugs Hoseok as well.

“I missed you as well, hyung.” Jungkook lightly punches Hoseok’s arm as a joke. Hoseok does this complex handshake with Jimin from behind Jungkook as my brother is still wrapped around Hoseok’s body. Hoseok finally turns his eyes to me. He smiles and releases my brother.

“Look at you. I haven’t seen you in two months and here you are, looking so wonderful tonight.” He twirled me around, getting giggles from Jungkook and Taehyung. “Is it for me?” I jokingly hit Hoseok’s arm.

“This is a nice party. I gotta look okay so as not to embarrass you.” I swear I could feel Jimin’s stare from my peripheral vision as Hoseok continues to compliment me.

“I have to introduce you all to my workmates.” Hoseok pulls my hand to lead the four of us to the living room. The three boys followed the two of us. He stops just before two men. He calls them out and the two men turns to us. “Guys, these are my college bandmates that I was talking about.” I stood aside as he reaches his out towards Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Nice to meet you.” Jungkook respectfully bows and shakes the two men’s hand. The three of them take their turns in introducing themselves to the two men.

“Guys, these are Yoongi and Seokjin. Yoongi is a producer while Seokjin is an aspiring artist soon to debut under our label.” The three of them bowing once more, as well as myself.

“Who is this beautiful lady beside you?” They all turned to look at me as Seokjin turns the attention to me. I smiled and shyly bowed.

“I’m Y/N. Jungkook’s brother and I suppose you could say I was appointed as their manager when they were still active as a band.”

“So you’re Y/N? I heard a lot about you from Hoseok. He used to…” Hoseok quickly nudges Seokjin’s side and laughed. Seokjin stopped and just giggled.

“I heard a few of your songs. It was amazing.” Yoongi slips in. Taehyung and Jimin beamed at Yoongi. They were now starting to talk about music. Not that I don’t care about it but I don’t understand the technical part of it. I silently excused myself out from their conversation, not telling anyone from the group that I walked away.

I make my way to the mini bar. I could really use a drink and honestly, a time out from the boys. This dress should be making Jimin notice me but I guess I don’t have enough charm. With slight frustration comes a bravery to order two cocktail right away. As I wait for my drinks, I look around the party. I recognize some of the guests but I guess a few of them would be Hoseok’s acquaintances. I’m not much of a party person but it turned out that I only enjoy going to one when I’m with the boys.

“Why are you alone?” I heard a voice from behind me. I turned around and saw Jimin walking towards the bar. He stood beside me, leaning his arms on the bar stool.

“You guys were talking about music and I’m honest that I don’t understand a lot of it so I went to the bar. Also, I figured that I needed a drink.” Because of you but I can’t tell him that.

“Well then, you’re not drinking alone.” He proceeded to order his drink. While he was turned towards the bartender, I nervously fixed my dress and my posture. I slightly puffed out my chest and bent my waist, leaning on the bar stool. “So… there’s something we need to talk about.” I nervously stood straight from his words.

“Okay… What is it?” As of this moment, I felt like I was treading on thin ice. I couldn’t hear the blasting music from the party and the chatter from everyone else here. He was fiddling with his hands, which got me thinking that maybe it got something to do with me. I’m so nervous on what he was about to say.

“Uhhh…. Jungkook, Taehyung and I were planning to perform again at the Gala night.” Okay. I got my hopes up for nothing. “We’re in a slump trying to write a song. The organizers told us that we should at least perform one song about Love. Jungkook was our main songwriter but he told us that he doesn’t want to. We understand why he doesn’t want to but Taehyung and I are really doing our best. We just couldn’t come up with good lyrics.”

“Wait, why are you telling me this? Don’t tell me…”

“We need your help. I need your help.” He stared at me. “You and Namjoon-hyung worked together on one of our songs and it was a hit. Maybe you could do it again this time?”

“Yeah, but that was a song about hardships of youth. I just included my real thoughts into the songs. I guess that’s why the lyrics came easy to me. Besides, most of the lyrics came from Namjoon.” Jimin held my hand, which surprised me. He did his puppy eyes and silently begged me. I could see him grinning and tilting his head. It’s funny because the way he looks right now, it’s like we’re back to normal again. I smiled as I was amused by Jimin’s antics.

“You could try to include your real thoughts through the lyrics. Tae and I will help but we figured that we need another set of brains. We don’t want to make a song just for the sake of performing on the Gala night. We really want to make it good.” I could feel Jimin’s passion for music flowing out of him right now. This was one of the reason why I grew to like him a lot. He gives his all on whatever he does.

“Okay but trust me, I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time. My input might not be helpful.” I giggled.

“That’s okay. Neither have I.”

“Really? I thought…” Before I get to finish my sentence, the bartender gives out our drinks. Two for me and one for Jimin. He saw the two glasses I pulled from the bartender’s hands and chuckled.

“Going all out?” He asked, laughing while trying to cover his mouth.

“I told you I really needed a drink.” Even before I got a sip on my liquid courage, I’m glad we’re having this conversation and it’s going pretty smoothly.

“You want to sit over there?” Jimin pointed out a small couch just outside the reception area and beside the swimming pool. I nodded and followed him. We make our way out through the crowd and out the living room towards the pool area. He let me sit on the couch first and sat beside me. I placed my other drink on the small coffee table in front us while I sip on my drink that was in my other hand.

“I can’t remember correctly when the Gala Night would be. Is that… two weeks before our graduation?” I closed my eyes as I try to remember the significant dates.

“Yeah. I guess the Gala night would be… a month from now.” He casually sipped on his drink.

“Oh wow. That fast huh? We’re about to graduate from College.” I looked at him as I try to savor those words. Graduation. When we graduate, I won’t see him around and Taehyung. Jungkook would still be in college as a senior. Thinking about it just makes me sad.

“Wait, what are you going to ask me just before the bartender gave out the drinks?” he asks.

“Oh. I’m just surprised that you haven’t been in a relationship in a long time. I thought that with the abundance of choices around you, you might have your eyes on somebody already. ” We both sipped from our glasses. His gaze lingered on the floor for a second while sipping on his drink before he replied.

“I do actually.” I choked on my drink. “But I don’t think it’s the right time for the both of us. She might not even be attracted to me.” Jimin’s face is now somber.

“Who wouldn’t be attracted to you? Look at you, you’re plenty attractive.” Well, I am but that doesn’t erase the fact the he likes somebody already. He might even be courting her already. I finished my first drink and reached for my second.

Jimin stayed with me until I finish my two drinks. We talked about almost everything and you’ll wonder why we even became awkward in the first place. My heart was jumping all around the whole time we were chatting up. I was conscious if I smelled good or if I still look good. Taehyung gave us another round of drinks and went back inside to chat with Yoongi and Seokjin once more. I wanted my nerves to take a break so I asked Jimin to get me another drink from the bar. He stood up and left me on the couch. As soon as he was out of my sight, I slumped back on the couch.

Normally, I wouldn’t be this nervous talking to any boy. It’s not like I’m a stranger to love. I have one ex-boyfriend and that relationship ended on bad terms. That was in high school and ever since then, I haven’t fallen in love with anyone. Not since Jimin came barging into my life. It was really a push and pull situation ever since then.

“Hey miss. Can I seat beside you?” I heard a male voice coming from my side. I was still slumped back on the couch with eyes closed. I sat up properly and saw a stranger with two drinks in his hand.

“This seat is actually taken. He’s just getting our drinks.” I placed my hand on the space beside me so as to show him that I am not interested in his company.

“But no one is seating there right now.” He proceeded to seat beside me, disregarding my hand that he almost sat on it. “You can have my other drink instead.” He gives his other drink out to my hand. I inched myself away from this guy who’s beginning to irritate me.

“No thanks. My friend would be here soon.” I placed the drink that he handed me on the table. I got a whiff of this stranger’s scent and he smelled strongly of alcohol. Shoot. This guy is very intoxicated.

“Come on. I’m lonely. Can’t you entertain me at least while your friend is not here yet?” I was looking at his face while I wiggled away to the far side of my part of the couch. I didn’t realize that he started wrapping his hands on my thighs. I was shocked by the coldness of his hands and a shiver went down to my spine. I couldn’t think of any words and my hands started to tremble.

When I was about to push his hands away, I was shocked when somebody pulled the stranger off the couch. I looked up and saw a very furious Hoseok holding the stranger by the collar. He pushed the man off and shouted something out. I couldn’t really hear anything clearly right now but I was sure when Hoseok kneeled down in front of me and talked to me.

I looked around and everyone’s attention was now on us. It didn’t register to me yet at how Hoseok shouted at the man must’ve been really loud to get the attention of even the people on the second floor. Some of them were peeking their heads out the balcony overlooking the pool and garden.

“Hey, are you okay? He didn’t try to touch you anywhere?” Hoseok was kneeling down in front me, placing his jacket on my lap.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Everyone was still murmuring and looking at us. I was even more bashful at the amount of attention we’re getting now. Suddenly, my attention went to Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook who were standing feet away from us. Jimin’s face looked so gloomy watching Hoseok and I while Taehyung and Jungkook were visibly arguing with the stranger who just took advantage of me.

“No you’re not. I’ll drive you home.” Hoseok took my hand and stood up.

“Jimin or Taehyung can drive me home. I came here with them.” I followed suit and stood up with Hoseok’s jacket still in my hands placed on my thighs.

“Those two drank. They can sleep here tonight.” A tone so stern came from Hoseok that I wasn’t even familiar with this kind of composure from him. He pulled my hand as we wade through the crowd. We also passed by a stunned and upset Jimin. Taehyung and Jungkook just watched as Hoseok pulled me through the living room and out the house.

Hoseok was silent as we walk to his car. I entered his car first followed by Hoseok. He soon starts the car and pulled away from the driveway. I looked back at his house thinking that I might have lost another chance to fix things with Jimin. Hoseok was visibly irritated about something as he taps his fingers in rhythms on the steering wheel. I don’t dare to speak to Hoseok as I was more nervous now with how he is irritated at something.

After a 15 minute drive, he stopped his car in front of our house. He was not stepping out of the car, still looking visibly irritated with one hand on the wheel. I thought that this was my cue to go out of the car so I opened the door and exited the silence-filled car. I took a few steps towards our patio when I heard a loud sound from Hoseok’s car door. I turned around and he was rushing, still looking very irritated, around the car and… towards me? I prepared myself for a lecture from Hoseok at how I was not aware of my surroundings and why couldn’t I even ask for the guys’ help when I was obviously in a bad situation. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for an earful scolding from him but I was greeted by a tight hug.

I opened my eyes in confusion as he hugged me tightly. My chin was sitting on the crook of his neck and my arms were frozen at my side. He released me from his arms soon after and he gazed at me with an expression I’m not familiar with. It was not from anger but something soft.

“I like you, y/n.”

Next: pt. 2

[letterstomilen]

i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 2) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe  When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe’s unfortunate love life starts at the age of eight. He, of course, did not call it “love” when he’s eight. When he was eight, he plucked a couple of weeds and sunflowers from his neighbor’s garden before he went to the park and handed them over to a classmate he doesn’t remember the name of now.

Handed over is an understatement here, seeing that she fell over from him shoving the flowers towards her chest before declaring, “Please marry me!”

In hindsight, storming over with the delicacy of an elephant with two left feet was not the best idea. But as somebody who recently discovered that watermelons could not grow out of your stomach no matter what, he was not the brightest. (Lumine now would argue that this is still the case. Unfortunately.)

She, as all eight-year kids would when faced with a loud boy that shoved you to the ground, started bawling. It didn’t help that Childe wasn’t aware of the fact that some worm wriggled in with the weeds and sunflowers he uprooted, with said worm now wiggling on the glittery, cursive ‘i’ in ‘Magical’ on her t-shirt.

This promptly resulted in her mom heading over and a long talk over dinner that night on why you should not ask girls to just marry you at your age.

“So I can ask boys then, right?”

Pleased with the loophole he discovered at age eight, Childe toothily smiled at his mom, who sighed and shook your head.

“You can’t ask anybody to marry you when you’re eight. And please don’t throw flowers at them too.”

The stolen flowers resulted in him being on his neighbor’s blacklist for the next couple of years; this in itself was fine, seeing that Childe was always a bit of a troublemaker and it was bound to happen at some point. However, the crying girl left a big impression on him even as he got older.

It did help that the older he got, the more silver-tongued he became, but this resulted in short-term relationships and a famous incident that once got dubbed ‘Tartaglia’s Shakespearean Slipup.’ (It involved a drunk retelling of Macbeth, several dumb questions, and a shirt that could never get the stain washed off of it.)

So in short, Childe’s love life is, to put it bluntly, a travesty. It has been downhill ever since he was eight years old, and nearly two decades later, he’s sure that he finally hit rock bottom.

“Tonia,” he begins, wondering how his little sister could be so cute yet so cruel at the same time, “what did you not tell Zhongli?”

“Hmm… Oh, I didn’t tell him about your obsession with his channel!” And cue the self-satisfied smile before she took another sip of his coffee.

Oh lord, she learned it from him.

“Anything else?” he presses, wondering what kind of image he has of him now — definitely not a good one. No amount of smooth talking or knowledge about petrology could save him from his past mistakes. He’s sure that Zhongli would not take kindly to the plethora of times that his insobriety has made him infamous among certain groups of people.

And he’ll admit just to himself, he was wholly unprepared for this. He couldn’t even be lulled to sleep by his voice last night — which is unfortunate because the series where he discussed the inspiration behind Tao Yuanming’s work just came out and if there’s one thing Childe likes, it’s poetry — because he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that he knew who he was.

Except not as Childe. As Tartaglia, his younger sister clarified, ever so proud of herself that she taught somebody how to say his birth name correctly, never mind that it stumped even the most persistent of professors.

“Not really! He said he likes listening to me brag about my older brother! ‘Cause he’s an only child and everything. Actually… he mentioned that you’d like to hear your stories sometime. Sweet, right?”

“My stories,” Childe echoes slowly. “The ones I told you when you were a kid? The fairytale rip-offs?”

“Yup.”

“Including the one where the kids locked the evil queen up and used her Magic Mirror to cheat on their tests?”

Admittedly, he was a bit lazy with that one. But Tonia was just eight and Childe was half-awake, trying to remember the difference between Hudibrastic and hija. So, like any good literature major with a bone to pick with their academic advisor, he decided that he’d very subtly rehash Snow White and make it all about cheating. (On tests of course.)

“Yuup. They got in trouble, right?”

They didn’t, but his mom would have his head if he said otherwise, so he smiles at her, ruffles her hair, and says with the attitude of a picture-perfect older brother, “Of course. The evil queen immediately sent them to the dungeon. So don’t cheat, okay?”

She nods, rewarding her compliance with another sip of his coffee. The library is fairly close to their apartment, as all things in Liyue are. A tightly packed city by the sea where you were sure to know everything about your neighbor and their neighbor. Which meant that the tenants next door still remembered when Childe first moved in and spent a week high on ambien, only to invest his time in writing a paper about how Snowpiercer was the sequel to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. (When they spoke for the first time, they asked politely if he could please turn down the volume, because it was difficult to sleep when your neighbor watched the two movies consecutively with the volume all the way up at three in the morning, don’t you think?)

(The paper ended up being legible to only the most dedicated of readers anyways.)

Deciding that they’re an appropriate distance from the entrance of the library now, Tonia stops walking and drags her brother towards the benches. “Now, before I take you to meet Zhongli, I just want to ask you one thing.”

He looks at her expectantly, wondering if she’s going to ask if he remembers what Lumine said. Don’t embarrass yourself, don’t act shady, and before you do something—think ITWTWW? (A.K.A Is This What Tsaritsa Would Want? A joke that arose after a particularly hellish class last year after the professor’s attention towards Childe was a source of debate—did she hate him? Did she think of him as her son? Did he—a suggestion brought forth by Aether—remind her of annoying neighbors that’d spend all night partying? To this day, he still doesn’t know.)

“What is it?”

“Did you bring your library card?”

“Huh?”

It turns out, Childe learns five minutes later with relief that his long-forgotten library card was collecting dust in his wallet, that Zhongli has a limit on books he can check out because he’s always forgetting them. And his overdue fees are quite an impressive sum—both for a library volunteer and anybody that’s frequented a library for the past decade.

But to the library’s great relief, he’s only checking out books nobody has ever checked out in the past so by default they belong to him now. (No harm no foul—unless you’re the occasional poor individual that has to research an incredibly specific and niche topic only to find out that the book is not in the library at the moment.)

Tonia sounds immensely proud of herself as she informs him of this while they wait for him to finish help somebody find a book. Help is an understatement, Childe realizes, as he watches Zhongli talk, smiling as he ensnares the visitor in an answer to a question where “yes” or “no” would have sufficed.

It’s ridiculously cute. Really. Tonia seems used to this sight as she drags Childe closer to the two. Zhongli must’ve realized that he slipped into a tangent because he apologizes and points to the nonfiction section before opening his book once more.

“Oh… I forgot.” Tonia purses her lips the same way Lumine does as she sighs, lowering the hand that she was enthusiastically waving moments earlier.

“Hm?”

“He won’t notice us. Ah, Zhongli,” she says melodramatically while they watch him flip through pages in a book, her tone every bit the longing princess in books they poured over when she was younger. “Why can’t you see us? Isn’t my wonderful big brother enough to catch your attention?”

He’s very flattered. Really. He knows that compliment was partially influenced by letting her have a lion’s share of his drink and Lumine’s sarcasm, but he takes it in stride, squeezing her cheeks. Tonia rolls her eyes in response, and heads over to Zhongli, chatting him up quicker than Childe can respond.

“And this is my older brother,” she introduces, gesturing her hand towards Childe, who smiles brightly, hoping he looks every bit the composed person he doesn’t feel like right now.

Zhongli is just as charming in person and it doesn’t help that just the realization he’s standing right here makes Childe’s pulse race, contributing to his increasingly forced smile that he reserves for uncomfortable situations. Oblivious to that, Zhongli smiles at him—one that is ingrained in his memory from days of watching it on loop —and says, “You must be Tartaglia, right? Tonia told me a lot about you.”

Oh fuck. 

His first thought: of course she told him about him. He knew beforehand, the dread of being characterized through his sister’s dramatizations of Childe’s mistakes. It’s partially why he could only get up this morning through two cups of coffee and dunking his head in the freezer for several minutes.

But also his name— 

Childe’s torn between asking why the hell his sister told him his real name or excusing himself to go read a dictionary to cool his nerves. Even though he’s well aware most of his family calls him Tartaglia still—mainly his parents when he’s in trouble (which, to be fair, is most of the time)—most people in Liyue call him Childe for two reasons.

One, Tartaglia is a mouthful and two, after many questions about how his name was pronounced only to get it butchered on several occasions, he’s stopped. (Scaramouche, Tsaritsa, and Signora are the only ones who call him that at this point, really; but he’s convinced Scaramouche does it just to vex him.)

“Yes,” he chokes out. “That’s me. Tartaglia.”

Childe decides that if Zhongli would just say his name and nothing else, he would die happy. Which is a mortifying thought but maybe a little bit of an upgrade from falling asleep to listening him talk about rocks. Isn’t it?

“You can call him Childe,” Tonia offers. “My brother doesn’t like it when people call him Tartgalia.”

His mouth forms an ‘o’ out of realization and sheepishly says, “My deepest apologies, Childe.”

“N-no—” Childe starts, his sister’s expression burning into the back of his head. “It sounds really nice when you say it. Call me Tartaglia—anything you’d like, really.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” Tonia smiles mischievously, implying that she never forgot all along as she raises a finger to her chin in mock thought. “You watch his ASMR channel, don’t you?”

“You do?”

They both turn to Childe, who’s sure this is turning into an interrogation; their burning gazes, the expectant silence, and a question he’s reluctant to answer.

“Yeah. I’m a huge fan,” he confesses brightly. “My favorite series of yours is the petrology one. It felt really nostalgic.”

He never thought he’d remember high school clearly ever again, but the videos made his classes a little less lazy. And the heat of the sun on the back of his neck as he slept in class would follow, lulled to sleep by a lecture he couldn’t quite remember. But he recalled his friends’ amusement clearly when they asked how he managed to sleep nearly every class, only to get a cheeky smile as an answer.

“Is that so? May I interest you in some books then? There’s quite the collection here, although I’m not sure which would interest you the most then. Any preferences?”

Ohhh, his expectant look was so cute. But Tonia looks bored at the prospect, so he clears his throat instead.

“Actually, I came here to check out Legend of the Lone Sword so I could follow along with your newest video,” he finally says. “Could you show me where it is?”

“Hmm… We do have two copies but unfortunately both have been checked out. One has just been checked out by Xingqiu and the other… ah, it’s still at my house. We’re having difficulties with the video unfortunately because Venti said… now what did he say?” Zhongli asks himself, humming as he takes out his phone and reads out loud.

“’Find somebody that’s willing to record the video and help you set up b-c’… er, before Christ?”

“Because,” Childe clarifies.

“Thank you. ‘Because I can’t do it without laughing’,” he finishes before sighing. “Also several crying emojis followed by a wine emoji and a suggestion for me to find Diluc…? There are also several other texts that I would not be able to read out loud but that’s the gist of it. As soon as I manage to find somebody, I’ll be able to return the book so you can check it out. My apologies.”

Diluc? All Childe remembers about him is what Lumine once said about him.

‘I was convinced him and Kaeya hated each other until I found out they were siblings.” A pause. Then: ‘I’m still fairly sure they hate each other. They’re at each other’s throats a lot. Diluc more so.’

He had not considered him to be a rival in love. Granted — that’s limited information from several years ago but it’s not as if Childe knows that many people outside of his own department. But still. 

Eager to save any chance of a love life, Childe says, “Why don’t I help you record?”

“That’s a great idea! Then my brother can read the book while he stays over. Right?” Tonia presses on, smiling far too brightly for his taste as Zhongli muses, considering the possibility.

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

Childe nearly stumbles at the sight of his relief. Really, his smile isn’t good for his heart—neither is the look he gives him, as if he hung over the moon that very moment. “None at all.”

“What a relief… I’ll tell Venti immediately that I can record the ‘ASMR: Boyfriend Reads to You’ video.”

—What?

Zhongli looks up from his phone after he texts his friend and tilts his head slightly in confusion, his earring brushing against his shoulder.

He looks adorably concerned and maybe a little bit aware that he’s responsible for Childe’s reaction. “Is there something wrong?”

“N-no. Nothing. That’s great. Good. I’m excited to be your boyfriend.”

Tonia lets out a little giggle and he’s sure that there’s somebody at the library silently praying for his downfall as he hurriedly corrects himself. “For the video, of course. Should I give you my number so we can set a date?”

Not deterred by Childe’s flustered expression, Zhongli nods as he hands him his phone. Maybe this is what he expected—that’d most likely be the case if most of his prior knowledge about Childe came from Tonia, who delights in both embarrassing and complimenting her brother like there’s no tomorrow. “Of course. Please give me your number.”

So with the shame of a college student that never managed to shake off his competitive streak from high school, Childe types his number in and promises himself that this won’t happen again.

(His younger sister lords it over him anyways on the way home, a skip in her step as she recalls it.)

Childe 2:34 i got his #

Twin 1 2:35 for the video recording*

Twin 1 2:35 u also embarrassed yourself. tonia told me all about it lol

Ugh. Of course she did. Childe peeks his head into his sister’s room, hearing her recount the library incident with a few more exaggerations poking fun at what he did than he’d like. Aether must be having the time of his life, which should make them equal considering that Childe made him think that Scaramouche was the best TA ever and would be even nicer if you made him an apple pie. (He hated apples.)

Well. They’re even now, aren’t they?

Childe 2:38 ya but he didn’t notice so its ok. BTW neither of u told me he was that airheaded

Twin 1 2:38 itd be funnier that way

Childe 2:39 oh yeah it was really cute

Twin 1 2:41 didn’t need to know that. anyways u do know how to work a camera right?

Childe 2:41 yea…? who do you think takes all of tonia’s pictures

Twin 1 2:42 no i mean like actual professional cameras used to record

Hm… That was a bit of an oversight on his part, wasn’t it? He texts a quick ‘yeah’ because it couldn’t be that bad and he’ll watch several videos on how to work a camera later, won’t he? There should be three buttons max. Easy.

Not to mention he took an elective on film and he’s watched Zhongli’s videos more times than he can count at this point. So really, there’s not much to worry about. The only problem is that he needs to build up immunity.

If he looks like a “blushing maiden”—Tonia’s words, not his—every time Zhongli looks at him, wouldn’t that be trouble? It’s bad enough that he embarrassed himself in front of his twelve-year-old sister but to look like a fool in front of the same guy his sleeping schedule depends on would be debilitating in more ways than one.

Deciding that he won’t let himself lose this time around, he sends a quick text to Zhongli saying ‘Saturday at 4:00 PM, right? See you there :)’ to psyche himself up before deciding a plan of action. There must be something that’ll impress him—no, completely sweep him off his feet.

More aware than ever that he’s fitting the image of a lovestruck idiot his sister painted him as, Childe watches his phone as it pings with a single ‘OK’ and ‘I am looking forward to working with you’ trying to convince himself that his erratic heart rate and the heat rushing to his face is just a side effect of working with somebody that he greatly admires. (It is, by all accounts, infatuation — but he’ll try to ignore that for now.)

[star-spangledstud]

MIND GAMES - THREE

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The team goes on a mission. You meet someone who might expose you. 

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence 

Note: Wanna be tagged in future chapters? Shoot me a message :) Sorry for being MIA for so long. I’ve been sad. Blegh. 

SERIES MASTERLIST.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER.

Over the few days that follow, you become increasingly paranoid. It’s your own fault, because you shouldn’t have lied to the people that have welcomed you into their homes with open arms, but lying is a survival skill that you were taught many years ago, and old habits die hard. You become shadowy, avoid team members in the hallways and common areas of the penthouse floor you all share, and stay in your room as much as possible without alarming anyone. Of course Natasha knows something is up, but Steve doesn’t, and he waves off her concern as you simply ‘needing more time to adjust, Nat’. You watch their body language during breakfast – one of two meals a day you simply cannot get out of without causing anyone’s alarm bells to start ringing – and engage in light conversation wherever possible to keep them out of your hair.

Guilt gnaws at your insides when you find yourself wandering the deserted wrap-around balcony at nearly 3 a.m., brain searching for a clue to any bad things that might happen. If any one of them figures out you’re ex-hydra you’re done for, that much you know, but the man with golden hair and twinkling azure eyes might just be your ticket to safety.

The thought alone sickens you, because you vowed never to mess with someone’s feelings to get what you need ever again. It’s a twisted thought, but the vines of its root wrap themselves around the stem of your brain nonetheless.

A month after first moving in, you’ve already figured out their routines. Steve’s the early riser of the bunch, getting up every morning at 6:30 a..m. sharp to go on a run around the city. On rare occasions, he manages to convince Sam to come along with him, but more often than not, he remains in his bed until at least 10 o’clock, when Steve’s already come back to shower and get dressed for the day. Tony and Bruce are in the lab 24/7, both of them constantly bickering about artificial intelligence and microbiology among other matters you can’t even begin to understand. As a result, you don’t see them around too often, a notion you don’t particularly mind. Clint left to be with his family two weeks ago and hasn’t been back since, and Natasha leaves all the time, sometimes for days at a time. You don’t dare to ask anyone where she goes when she disappears, but nobody seems surprised to find her seat at the dining table empty again.

It’s a gloomy day when you wake up to find the entire place void of all life. Not even Steve, who’s adamant about his morning coffee, is there to grace you with his presence when you walk into the kitchen that Saturday morning. The counter is clean, no empty coffee cups, half-eaten bowls of oatmeal or bread crumbs to indicate anyone’s eaten yet, and all of the chairs are still perfectly lined against the table.

Your pulse involuntarily quickens to an uncomfortable pace, and you bite the inside of your cheek until the metallic taste of blood is heavy on your tongue. With quick steps, you walk towards the common room, footsteps loud in your ears when you consider where they might be. As expected, there’s nobody there. The TV is switched off, there are no dents in the heavy fabric of the couch from where Steve usually sits, and again, no empty cups or bowls can be found on the coffee table. You have the jitters when you finally get to the library, which is again void of all life.

Black socks covered in small holes squeak across the wooden floors when you walk around the room. It’s not surprising to see the library vacant. You’re sure Avengers have more pressing matters to tend to than reading books on any given day, but it was your last hope nonetheless. With your head tilted to the side, you focus on scanning the titles that line the walls. You follow every shelf in the room until your eye finally catches something. You take the book with a sigh, flip through its tattered pages, and wonder for a moment which one of the Avengers has read the crap out of Pride and Prejudice. Definitely not Sam, judging by his internal monologue. That guy doesn’t appear to have an ounce of romanticism inside him.  

 “They’re out,” a gentle voice suddenly says behind you, “Steve didn’t want to wake you up this morning to tell you.”

You slap your hand over your heart in surprise, and inhale sharply, “Jesus Christ, doc. You scared the hell out of me.”

Bruce throws his hands up in the air and shrugs his shoulders, “Sorry, it’s just me.”

“Are they on a mission?” you ask, feeling your heart jump in your chest like a skippy ball.

“Yeah, they should be back in a few days. Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You swallow thickly, noticing all of a sudden how your mouth is dry like sandpaper, “you just spooked me, that’s all. What kind of mission is it?”

“Intel gathering, in an out. That’s why I didn’t come. They only bring me when they need the green guy,” he says.

“Oh yeah,” you reply slowly, “how’s he holding up?”

“Asleep,” Bruce smiles, then clears his throat, “for now, anyway. Would you like to get some breakfast?”

You follow Bruce through the rain, which started to gust from the grey sky just as you were getting dressed. You’d rather have said no, but you knew you couldn’t; it wouldn’t be polite to decline his offer. Besides, he’s oblivious, and for whatever reason, he trusts you. When he bites into his chocolate croissant, you know why – Steve’s let you in. This notion once more confirms the thoughts that have been occupying your mind for the last week; Steve is your one-way ticket to inclusivity.

You shudder at the thought and fake a smile before taking a large sip of coffee. The cafe is small, mostly empty, and your seat by the window gives you a perfect view of pedestrians struggling in the howling, icy wind. One year ago, you could never have imagined yourself sitting in a café with a cup of coffee clutched between your fingers, chatting with someone who you could potentially call a friend. The idea alone of being able to enjoy a warm mug filled with freshly brewed coffee would’ve sounded preposterous to you.

There was no warmth with HYDRA. Only cold.

It takes the team three days to return from their mission. Three long days, during which you spend most of your time with Bruce in his lab, perched on a desk-chair with a book in your hands while he works on – actually, you have no idea what he’s working on. You quickly grow to become fond of him, because he doesn’t feel the need to constantly fill the silence between you with empty words. His thoughts are coherent, focused on his project, and the lingo is too advanced for you to understand, which makes it easy to drown out. His inner monologue is quiet, except for a few angry words from the Hulk when Bruce becomes frustrated with his work, but that only happened on day two, and only for ten minutes.

Steve smells like gun powder and sweat when he hugs you softly against his chest after exiting the Quinjet. Natasha waves at you, and the smile that dons her dirt-caked face surprises you, but you return it nonetheless. Sam even ruffles your hair, causes a sound to escape your throat that you haven’t heard yourself make in over a decade; a strange combination of a snort and a chuckle that sounds like music to your own ears. Your heart pounds again, but in a good way this time, because for a small moment in time, you’ve managed to put the guilt on the back-burner. The roaring engine behind you falls silent at last, and nobody else visibly exits the plane before you make it inside.  

“You held up okay?” Steve asks as he follows you back inside the building.

You nod in response and shove your hands deep inside the pockets of your hoodie, “I’ve been helping Bruce with his research.”

“Oh, did you? How’s it coming?” he asks.

His eyes sparkle like two tiny stars even through the exhaustion that nearly forces them shut every time he blinks. He’s exhausted, you can tell, and you have to bite your tongue before you make a comment about the state he’s in.

“I mostly sat there while he did all the thinking. Turns out computer science isn’t really my thing after all.”

Steve fights a yawn that threatens to overcome him, and nods, “yeah, I feel you. I can barely get the damn things to start. I’ve given up on technology.”

He turns back to face you when he’s come to a halt in front of his room.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you where I went,” he tells you, meaning it as he says it, “we kinda left in a hurry, and you were still sleeping.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reply, “I understand.”

He quickly retreats after that, leaving you once again with nothing to do. You go back to your room to grab the worn copy of Pride and Prejudice from your nightstand and, after plopping down on your bed, flip to the page where you last left off. You read for a while, before the idea to make some tea with warm milk and honey pops into your head, and you skip along the hallway to the kitchen with the book securely wrapped in your arms.

You’re surprised to hear Steve’s voice when you enter the common area, and a smile appears on his face the second his eyes fall on you. You raise one arm to wave at him, but a loud gasp and a large thud followed by the sound of breaking glass have you freezing on the spot before you can open your mouth to greet him at all.

Your head snaps towards the source of the sound, causing your neck to twist and crack painfully. Red, glowing eyes meet your large ones when you dare to look up at whoever made the noise, and the book in your hands falls to the ground with a loud bang that startles everyone in the room. You stumble backwards when you can feel the woman standing before you deep inside of your head, and you nearly trip over the rug when you instinctly try to get away from her. Frantically, you scramble to stop her from seeing more than she’s already seen. Still, by the time you manage to build up a mental barrier to keep her out of your head, it’s already too late.

You haven’t seen her before, and you can’t remember for the life of you if the image of her has popped up in any of the Avengers’ heads. Your brain is mushy, images hazy as you try to focus on keeping the woman from digging around deeper. You can see distant memories of your time with HYDRA flash before her eyes, and the images blur with the present in a spasm that makes your eyes water.

Wanda Maximoff lets out a shrill, piercing shriek, one that chills everyone to the bone. Thor, who you didn’t even know was there, is by her side before she can collapse onto the cold, hard floor, and Steve jumps up from his chair before you have time to register his movements. He grabs your arm and drags you out of the kitchen, fingers digging painfully in your tender flesh when he pulls you away from the scene. Sympathy fills Sam’s dark brown eyes when you turn back around to look at him, and guilt roils in your stomach when the redhead sinks to her knees with tears streaming down her face.

Your arms hang limply to your side when you watch Steve pace back and forth around his room. You’re waiting for him to yell at you, to tell you to get the fuck out of the compound and never return, but he remains awfully quiet. His silence confuses and unnerves you simultaneously.

His eyes, swimming with unimaginable depth, find your face while the scent of his cologne and pure testosterone invades your nostrils. Pressure clamps down on your chest, and the intensity of his gaze causes you to shiver. Never in your entire life have you wanted to read someone’s mind more. 

“Are you alright?” your head cocks to the side, mouth twitching while you try to find words. 

You nearly gave that woman an aneurysm, and he’s asking you if you’re okay?

“Yes,” you stammer, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Wanda is telepathic,” Steve says, “she has trouble controlling what she sees sometimes.” 

“Like I said, I’m so so-” 

A soft exhale leaves your lips when Steve’s hands find their way to your shoulders, and your voice dies down in your throat when he bends down slightly to meet your eyes. Calloused fingertips penetrate the thin material of your t-shirt, and the warmth of his hands creates a buzzing sensation just beneath your skin. 

“She was in Europe, scouting the location of the mission with Rhodey. She’s been in Eastern Europe for a while, that’s why you haven’t seen her. I should’ve told you about her.”

“Will she be okay?” you ask. You hardly recognize your own voice. 

“Sam’s got her. She’s stronger than she looks. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good.” 

You don’t know how to respond. You crave a cigarette all of a sudden, even though you don’t smoke. Alcohol then, maybe, to numb down the prickling sensation of firing synapses and goosebumps that line your bare arms. Yeah, a good couple of shots of whiskey will do the trick. Not vodka though, you hate that stuff. 

You bite your bow-shaped lips and inhale deeply. Steve is so close that you can feel his breath fanning across your face. It’s wrong, being so near him after what just happened. You’re on thin ice. It won’t be long before the entire team, undoubtedly informed by what Wanda just saw, comes barging into Steve’s room, ready to drag you away to prison or worse, put a bullet through your skull. You deserve it, you think, for what you used to do. For who you used to be. You almost want somebody to call you out on your shit, because then at least you wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. 

But seconds turn into minutes, and nobody comes. It’s quiet, except for the sound of Steve’s breathing and the steady beating of his heart, and you realize when he looks at you with sympathy and sincerity that you hate yourself for lying. It’s an ironic realization, because lying is like second nature to you. HYDRA spent so much time ingraining it into your brain that it’s become almost like a second language, a means of communication that flows so naturally that you don’t even have an accent anymore. It’s brought you many things, and ruined even more people.

Your hands are going numb from how hard you’re clenching them into fists. Steve’s thumbs are rubbing small circles on your shoulders, and it takes all of your effort not to shake them off. You’re disgusted with yourself, bile threatening to rise to the back of your throat while the sensation of his warm fingers on you is the only thing left for you to feel. The world is dark and cold, but the heat radiating from Steve’s hands is just enough to stop you from getting frostbite. The concern is evident on his face, from the deep crease between his brows to the thin line of his lips; he’s worried about you, someone he doesn’t even know. Someone he would kill if he’d met you under any other circumstances.

You want to go home, you think to yourself, but as soon as the thought appears do you smack it down with your fist. You don’t have a home, you scold yourself, just like the doctors would tell you when you cried and screamed on the dingey operating table in the early days, when they didn’t control you yet. When they still wore their special masks to stop you from controlling their minds so they could freely fuck with yours.

It’s an icy reality, one that rattles you to your core every time it makes an appearance. Steve’s eyes are still scanning your face, which is twisted and contorted into a painful scowl before you even realize what’s happening.

An inexplicable panic washes over you, heart jackhammering in your chest while your cheeks turn a sickly shade of pink. A bead of sweat rolls down your back, followed by cold shivers that envelop your skin in ice. The scent of laundry detergent and cologne hits you like a truck, and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from gagging.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice melting and morphing into the sound of rain slamming against the window like gunfire.

“My head,” you cry out in a desperate whimper, “it hurts.”

Steve forces your body down onto his bed, and while you begin to writhe in pain that causes white spots to dance in front of your eyes, he closes the curtains to keep the light from coming in. His mother had head aches all the time, and she’d be in bed for days on end if they got bad enough. He remembers her clear as day, lying in bed with an empty bucket next to her on the floor in the dark, because the light hurt so bad it would make her vomit sometimes. He’d tiptoe around the house because the sound of his feet creaking across the floorboards would pain her. He recognizes her in you, lying on his bed with your hands clutching the sides of your head.

“I’ll get you some aspirin,” he says, quieting his voice, the incident with Wanda long forgotten as instinct takes over.  

Tears blur your vision at this point, and it takes every ounce of focus that you have left to keep yourself from screaming out in pain. Aspirin won’t help, but you don’t possess the capability to tell him not to bother. You’ve experienced this type of pain before, and have endured it without medicine each time. Many times actually; while you were forced to extract information from the people taken and captured by HYDRA with whatever means necessary. This time however, it’s come as a surprise and it’s caught you completely off-guard, although you suspect Wanda’s poking and prodding has something to do with it.

With all the strength you have left, you manage to pull the covers over your head, engulfing yourself in darkness and warmth to drown out your senses. The sudden darkness is disorienting, but you welcome it with open arms. Steve opens his mouth, but shuts it, and heads for the door without uttering another word.

All you hear when Steve exits the room is the sound of your former victims crying out in despair.

NEXT CHAPTER.

TAGLIST:

@foxyjwls007​ @littlegasps​ @hurricane-abigail​ @idk123906​ @ bubblicious-trashcan @wooya1224

[carelessannie]

Because I have no patience, here’s the first chapter of my three part Reverse Little Mermaid Winteriron AU

while we're devoting full time to floating chapter one: floating in a blue lagoon

Rating: T (for now) Word Count: 3.5K Relationships: Tony x Bucky, background Natasha x Wanda Warnings: Prejudice against Merpeople, Steve’s kind of an ass, boat violence, magic use Read on AO3

Chapter One | Chapter Two

---

Spring-time has broken— making way, quickly, for a blazing summer. Celebratory music carries from the interior of the city, echoing from the palace in the center all the way out to the surrounding villages, drawing citizens closer— like moths to a joyful flame. Heading in the opposite direction, unseen by guards and villagers, two silhouettes slip toward the shoreline.

Up ahead is an expansive boathouse, accessible only by royal decree and permission from the crown. Bucky lifts up on his toes to check through the window for officers or other sailors— no one in sight. His key easily unlocks the door and he holds it open for Alpine to sprint through.

Bucky pads across the dock, heading for his humble fishing boat and checking for guards, whistling low between his fingers to call his Border Collie to his side. Alpine comes bounding over, shaking out her pure white coat, and pants, eyes wide with excitement.

“Quiet, Alpine,” he hisses, motioning to stay low, “almost there, girl.”

Towards the end of the dock, he can see his boat. Restored over years of hard work, The Widow sits proudly at the end of the line, beckoning him to sail away. He helps Alpine climb inside and makes haste to cast off, pushing away from the dock and dipping his oars into the gentle waves.

The sun is hot, but Bucky doesn’t mind it. His gaze is locked ahead and his focus is sure. The waters are quiet as he rows out into the open ocean, letting the current push him parallel to the coastline and away from the village.

It’s not like he’s running away— no. He just knows his brother would stop him if he knew, and it’s far too close to migration to wait another day.

After a while, he sees the cove— his favorite spot, sheltered under a familiar rocky cliff— and steers towards it. Once he’s close, Bucky tethers the boat to a nearby boulder. He helps Alpine out and climbs up the jagged rocks, settling over the water.

Here he adjusts his covering and removes a few flat stones, revealing provisions he stored long ago in a discreet iron box. Bucky lays on his belly, wiggling until he can peak over the edge.

Then he waits.

It doesn’t take long. With lenses pressed to his face, his enhanced view picks up movement below. Three large figures, cutting gracefully through the crystal clear water, swim into focus. Bucky holds his breath, taking only a moment to scrawl a few details onto his journal pages. Remarkable.

He watches the Merpeople hesitantly explore the cove underneath and talk animatedly between each other. Bucky only hears snippets of conversations as they surface, and it seems like a dark haired, red-tailed Mer is their leader. The other two— the first with bright red hair, and the second with darker skin— follow the red-tailed Mer around the shallow waters, inspecting rocks and plant life, talking distractedly about a settlement nearby.

“These waters are clear, no remnants left from past colonies.”

Bucky knows this already. He’s been observing Mer migration patterns for years, and none of them ever stay long enough to impact the nearby ecosystems. Still, he jots down a note about their self awareness.

“Still, the access to resources and deeper waters is desirable in this area.”

This Bucky knows as well. Outside of the cove and the surrounding reef, there’s a steep drop off down into unexplored waters. He’s tried to swim down a few times, but hasn’t yet found the floor.

Finally the red-tailed Mer speaks, he voice deep and alluring, causing Bucky’s head to snap up in surprise—

“I’m sure the King would be thrilled to hear of this discovery,” he drawls, and something in his tone convinces Bucky that this King would decidedly not be pleased. “Take a few samples, keep them close. I’ll study them in my lab when we get back and present them to the King myself.”

Bucky has to stop himself from chuckling. He understands exactly how this Mer feels about his King, and he’s instantly endeared. He can’t, for the life of him, tear his gaze from the red-tailed Mer. The man is striking, beautiful and full of life, and Bucky has never seen one like him before. His body is lean and toned like most Mers tend to be, but something about his posture screams authority and importance. He sighs, knowing the three of them will probably move on, migrate further south and into warmer waters.

He pulls away to take a drink from his water flask and sees a flash in the corner of his eye. Something approaching— fast and dangerous. The Mers below are oblivious, and the next thing he knows, they’re being circled and cornered by three, large Tiger sharks.

Bucky gets to his knees, gripping the rocks as he watches the sharks close in, forcing the Mers to press together a few meters in front of the cove.

The largest shark attacks. It’s a flurry of motion and violent waters as the other two follow suit, converging on the Mers from all sides. It seems as though each Mer fights a single shark, and they draw vicious, serrated weapons to slice through the water.

But the Tiger sharks are quick. The largest one whips, lightning fast, and catches the red-tailed Mer in the chest, sending him careening into the rocky wall. The other two Mers are chased away. They dodge and swim through the shallow waters and disappear out of sight to avoid the close pursuing sharks. Bucky glances down, watching in horror as the largest shark closes in on his prey below.

The red-tailed Mer isn’t moving, and the shark is swimming closer. Bucky scrambles, picking up his own hunting knife, and stripping off his shirt and boots before diving off the cliff.

His attack takes the shark by surprise, and Bucky plunges into the water, striking clean and slicing through the predator. Blood pours out of the open wound and Bucky has to surface, gulping in air as he watches the shark retreat.

He sheaths his weapon and turns, looking for the injured Mer. Bucky dives down and sees him drifting against the rocky wall, propped up and unconscious. When Bucky gets closer he finds blood, fresh and urgent, seeping out of the Mer’s wound— dead center on his chest.

Without hesitating, Bucky pulls the Mer up to the surface. He swims, slowly but effectively, back to the cove and rests against the rocky shore, letting the vibrant tail hydrate in the water.

“Hey,” Bucky looks into the man’s face, gently pushing back a thick strand of dark hair, “wake up, please. C’mon, I need you to wake up.”

The wound is still bleeding, slower than before, but persistently trickling down into the pool of water.

“Okay, okay… dammit,” Bucky curses, “stay here,” he instructs, mostly for his own sake, and sprints out of the cove, climbing the rock face to retrieve his shirt and a few supplies. Herbs and spices can usually make a good potion, even for inexperienced users— which Bucky definitely isn’t . He rubs a few together in his hands as he ducks back into the cove, kneeling next to the unmoved Mer. Gently, so gently, Bucky presses his fingers against his skin to rub the potion into the wound, wrapping it tenderly with strips of his own shirt after.

The Mer groans, hunching in to protect the wound instinctively.

“No, darling, let me heal it,” Bucky begs, laying the man down again while he works. He looks around. It would help if there was...

Aha! A golden ring dangles from the Mer’s neck, a perfect vessel for a healing spell. Bucky slips the ring on his own finger, taking a deep breath before performing the spell. It’s taxing. It hurts. But Bucky can see the ring glow and flex on his finger, accepting the enchantment and waiting for it’s impending assignment.

The ring is laid back on the Mer’s chest, still attached with the delicate chain, and Bucky is satisfied when he sees the wounds rapidly closing. He sighs in relief, holding the Mers hand and feeling the delicate pulse even out. He wishes he could see the man’s eyes, at least once. Damn the King and his stupid laws.

Movement, stirring from the Mer, and Bucky knows he must go. He can’t help but lean closer, studying the breathtaking features of this man’s face and pressing a lingering kiss onto his temple, before withdrawing and racing for his boat. He whistles for Alpine to join him, and takes off for the village. He’s been away far too long, and the King is bound to have noticed his absence.

---

“Do you know what you have done?”

The King, his brother, is fuming— full of violent rage that even Bucky shys away from. He had pulled Bucky off his boat the moment he returned, ordering the guards to seize him and The Widow for crimes against the crown.

“And to see the Merpeople again, I should have known. How could you, Buck? Openly disregarding my decree and putting all of our people in jeopardy— for what? Research?”

“He was dying!”

“Better him than another one of us.”

Bucky recoils, “You don’t mean that. The Mers have always been peaceful—“

“And that’s because they are ignorant of our existence— dammit Buck! What if he had seen you?”

“He didn’t.”

“And he won’t.”

“What does that mean?” Bucky asks, daring to look his brother in the eye. All he finds is cool indifference.

“It means that until further notice, I’m confiscating your traveling privileges. You will serve in my court and retire to your chambers, guarded as to not leave the grounds— is that clear?”

“Steve, what the hell—“

“You may keep the company of your dog,” the King, his brother and best friend, sets his jaw and points towards Bucky’s beloved boat, “but as a consequence for disgracing your King and country, my guard will take care of your transportation.”

“No!” Bucky cries, fighting the strong hold on his arms as two members of the royal guard unceremoniously drop a torch into his boat, setting it on fire. “Damn you, Steve!”

They let him struggle, thrashing and yelling to no avail, and the crowd watches as his most prized possession is burned to ashes. Bucky falls to his knees, speechless.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the King retreat, walking out of sight without even the courtesy of a dismissal. His vision blurs red.

Steve never listens.

The guards haul him up by the armpits, but Bucky barely even notices. He lets himself be dragged away and led back to his quarters, collapsing onto his bed with a sob as they lock the doors behind him. He feels Alpine crawl up next to him, and he holds her close, soaking her fur with heaving, furious tears.

When the sun goes down, Bucky packs a bag. It’s not an issue to find a way out of the palace— he’s been doing that for years. The issue is tracking down his contact, making sure she still lives across the bay, and convincing her to help him. Her allegiance is strong with the King, but he thinks he might have the upperhand to a few of her debts.

Bucky drops a quick kiss to Alpine’s head, tying a note around her collar. It won’t help to have her starving and the kingdom torn apart in his absence, so he quickly charms the letter to sooth and calm it’s readers. That should give him enough time to evade any search and rescue.

From there, it’s a simple shimmy out the window, a well-timed jump across a few balconies, light-footed paces through empty streets, and then, thankfully, a straightforward hike out of the city. The sun has long since set. Bucky pushes forward, ignoring the increasing chill as he climbs in elevation— his destination is just up ahead.

Before he crosses into her wards, Bucky comes to a stop. He searches the ground for… yes! A small ring of stones lies around her cottage, strengthening her security and vigil over her land, and Bucky kneels in front of them, gently laying his fingers on the ones nearby. It only takes a moment of letting his walls down, power flowing down his arms and into his hands, and he smiles to feel a warm thrum in response. The wards accept his familiar presence, and he stands to make his way to the cottage that lies behind the tree covering.

“You had better have a good excuse to be here, James.”

He hears her greeting before he spots her in the doorframe, curves silhouette tantalizing and a stark contrast from the light within the house. He smiles, picking up his pace and running forward, “Oh, Nat. Damn, if it isn’t good to see you.”

Natasha lets him swing her up into his arms, but gives a stinging flick to his ear.

“I’ve already heard of your transgressions, James. When will you just accept your brother’s rule, and learn that his word is law?”

Bucky sweeps into the cottage and leads the way to her personal rooms. It seems as though someone else has been living in this space— there’s another, strong, trace of magic intertwined with Natasha’s. He ignores her implications and raises an eyebrow, “Who are you hosting, Nat?”

The grin Natasha throws him is downright feral, and Bucky almost regrets asking. She brings her fingers up to her lips and whistles, brief and sharp.

“Her name is Wanda, she will join us momentarily,” Natasha pours him herbal tea, gesturing for them to sit in the living space. He allows himself to put his bag down, but he lets himself fidget a little bit— cataloging his urgency to his friend and trusting her to pick up his unspoken needs. “Tell me, pretty Prince— why are you seeking me out after such drama, at this time of night?”

He frowns at her moniker, but decides to give it to her straight, “Steve’s bias has gotten out of hand. I witnessed an exploration party of three Mers out by my cove, and there was a shark attack. The leader of their party was knocked unconscious, so I intervened to stop the shark from killing him. I had to swim him to safety, Nat, and I enchanted his ring with a healing spell. I left before he could wake up, and when I got back…” Bucky breathes, breaking his eye contact with Natasha, “well, it sounds like you’ve heard the rest.”

Her face falls in a genuine show of regret, “I’m really sorry, James, I know how much—”

“It’s fine,” he cuts her off, “I just need help convincing Steve that Mers are worth protecting. He just sees them as a threat, and he hates their ignorance about us. He doesn’t trust it. But they’re incredible, Nat, honestly. And this one I saw today… damn.”

Her eyes gleam, mischievous, “Oh? You have a crush on the Mer you saved and healed with your magic— how surprising.”

“Shut it, Nat,” he hisses, rolling his eyes as she cackles, “I’ve never seen a man so beautiful in my life. And, I don’t know, something about how he spoke, his voice and his humor—”

“James, I hate you.”

“— excuse me?”

“I now owe Clint a very large sum because of you.”

When Bucky fails to react, Natasha just sighs, “He bet you’d fall in love with a Mer. I just didn’t think you were that stupid.”

“Hey! I’m not in love—”

“Sure, Jay,” she laughs, turning to face the back stairwell as Bucky throws a pillow at her, “oh! Wanda! Please, come in and meet James.”

Standing at the bottom of the staircase is a petite girl, maybe a few years younger than Bucky himself, with auburn hair that rivals Natasha’s in brilliance. He can feel her power from here. A shiver runs down his spine.

She’s careful to walk into the room, as though any sudden movement may set off a catalyst of magic strong enough to rip the room apart. And he honestly doesn’t doubt that could happen.

“This is Wanda,” Natasha introduces them, and Bucky reaches to take her tiny hand in greeting. She looks one part terrified, and another part… angry? She still shakes his hand and mumbles a pleasantry. He knows that if Steve were here, she would probably be arrested for insolence to the crown or something comparable.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wanda. You can call me Bucky, everyone besides Natasha does.”

The look on her face says she will most likely not be calling him Bucky.

“Well, why don’t you spend the night here, James?” Natasha asks, standing to her feet and gliding into the kitchen, “we have a spare room, and can talk strategy in the morning.”

“I’d rather—”

“I insist,” Natasha cuts him off. She pours him a glass of water and pushes it into his hand, “I’m going to sleep. You know where the guest room is.”

“Isn’t…” he awkwardly motions towards Wanda, confused about the sleeping arrangements until he sees the flush in Wanda’s cheeks, the salacious grin on Natasha’s face.

“You don’t worry about us, our arrangements work just fine. Get some rest, James,” and with that, Natasha disappears up the staircase with a small kiss to the top of Wanda’s head. To his surprise, Wanda doesn’t move a muscle. She’s still staring at him, and it starts to get uncomfortable as they sit in silence.

Bucky clears his throat, “So, how did you—”

“I can help you with your problem.”

He does a double take, “— get… uh, what? Which problem?”

Wanda takes a seat across from him, but her posture is anything but relaxed. It’s her facial expression that makes him freeze— not just anger and fear, but knowing. Understanding. He curses himself because instead of scaring him, the knowledge in her eyes draws him closer.

She tilts her head to the side, slightly, “With your Merpeople. And with your brother. I’ve seen the conflict and I witnessed the shark attack. I know how your heart thrums in time with this red-tailed Merman, and how you long for it to beat in time with your brother, the King.”

“How do you—”

“You assume Natasha told me, but rest assured, my power and devices stretch far beyond her secret spies. I have a deal to offer you, and in return, you will earn the ear of the King and the heart of the sea.”

Bucky gives her a suspicious eye, but in reality, his heart is pounding. This girl, barely old enough to inherit land, is offering him the depths of his desires. But he knows mages, understands their loopholes and caveats.

“Tell me, Wanda— what is your scheme? What would be my payment?”

“Simple,” she answers, gaze going distant, “I’d first give you access to the King of the sea. Through the Mer you saved, his only son, you will forge a treaty between land and ocean. I will give you a way in, but in turn, you will have to enter the same spell all Mers are under: to forget and lose humanity. You will still remember names and faces and stories, but all will be in a cloak of ignorance. Like them, you will have no knowledge of the world above.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “How am I supposed to forge a treaty between the two worlds if I can’t remember the one I’ve come from?”

“A royal alliance will break the spell. Marriage or covenant between the Prince of the land and Prince of the sea will not only break the cloak of ignorance on your mind, but also the ignorance of all who live in the Mer kingdom.”

His mind is racing. On one hand, he’s never easily put his trust in a strange mage, even one who seems to be… intimate with Natasha. On the other, he’s been looking for a way into the sea kingdom for years. Her spell could be the bridge that brings everything together.

“Oh, but there is one catch, James.”

“I knew it.”

“If you cannot get the Prince to fall in love and wed you, the enchantment on your memories will keep progressing. You will not only forget humanity, but you will completely forget yourself as well.”

“Does Natasha know you’re offering me this deal?”

“She knows we’re discussing it, yes.”

“How long would I have until my memories start to fade?” Bucky asks. He can’t believe he’s actually considering this.

Wanda seems to consider it, “No less than a month, no more than three.”

“So I’d give up my humanity, get this prince to fall in love with me, and break the spell over their kingdom. If I can’t do it, I’m lost to the sea forever— sound about right?”

Her mouth quirks up in a smile grin, “That’s about the gist of it.”

He thinks about Steve. About his life in the city— all the people who would miss him, and about Alpine and Natasha and even his royal guard. He thinks about the stunning, striking Mer from this afternoon. His ruby scales and cutting wit. Bucky desperately wants to see his eyes.

He looks down at his hands and sighs, straightening his back in determination.

From there, the decision isn’t hard.

[akp-1327]

dear diary // chapter ten

Auditions have arrived...O_o

Fair warning, I don’t know much about drama...anything? So I did a bunch of research from the original books, websites, and friends with experience...so let me know if any of this is inaccurate!

Also...hello! It’s been waaaaaay way way too long since the last update, but I’m beyond happy to be back! :)

As always, find the series masterlist here (Tumblr) or here (AO3) to catch up! :)

Pairings: Ajay Bhandari x f!MC (Charlotte Parker), Skye Crandall x f!OC (Leila Maciel)

Word Count: 6.5k

(*) Warnings: the briefest mention of dementia, otherwise there’s just a roller coaster of emotions in this chapter!

After one of the fastest weeks known to man, it was the day that classes started

This morning was all too familiar; the sudden remembrance of signing up for the morning classes, then the curse as I woke up with the sun. However, it was comforting to have this routine again. It made me feel normal, which had been a feeling I missed all summer back at Dad’s.

Walking to class on days like these, where the sun was warm and the sky was clear, had been another thing I missed. Birds chirping, the light foot traffic around campus, the smell of coffee wafting on the light breeze...

I could only think of how many hours spent pouring over the script for The Enchanted Kingdom. There were also points where Rory physically had to tear me away from the script to get outside, which to say, was not a task he succeeded at...

“C’mon! It’ll be fun! We can go find you some new blazers or something, since you insist on wearing them all the time.” Rory was slowly easing a highlighter from my hand. I gave him a death glare and he backed away, “At least take a break? You’ve been hunched here for hours.”

After a pointed look into his eyes, I focused my attention back on the script in front of me.

“I’m completely fine. Also, while I would love to get a few new blazers, I don’t have the time right now.” My voice was rough. I hadn’t been able to sleep much or eat anything but instant ramen for the past couple days. Though, I was feeling adventurous this morning and drank a piping hot cup of coffee. That felt like it did the trick, at least for a good while...until I fell asleep on my script for an hour or so. Ever since then, my eyes have been pretty droopy.

“Just let me be, Rory.”

Without another word, Rory sighed and left with a frown.

...was I a jerk that day? Maybe. But that was my nature; I’m a director and I’m supposed to be that way.

Another drift of wind caught the unbuttoned flannel I wore. Flannel was definitely a go-to right now, especially since all my blazers were much too warm for this kind of weather. Also, who knows who I’ll see?

I adjusted the backpack on my shoulders with a heavy sigh and tightened my grip on the straps. Something about today felt different from first days of class in the past. Could it be how nice the weather was today? It’d been raining on the first day for the past two years...

Maybe it was about where I was going? Performance Theory wasn’t the most interesting thing on the planet, but it was also something I’d taken the past two years. By now, it was something to wake me up in the morning. So why would that make me feel weird?

I shook the feeling away and continued to walk at a relaxed pace, focusing on something else.

Naturally, my eyes traced over campus. A big group of students laughing in the shade of a tall maple tree, a few couples walking shoulder to shoulder, and many stragglers like me with their textbooks in hand.

The environment was serene, and it was definitely one I enjoyed. The long summer of renting out that spare room at Dad’s apartment was, at last, something I didn’t need to worry about for a while. Or...ever again, now that I’ve visited Amma.

Maybe that was the feeling? Amma looked so happy to see me, and so did Mo. I guess I missed them more than I thought...

My feet fell onto a familiar path towards the arts building. I was almost there; only a few more steps and a small staircase until the doors--

“Ajay!” A voice shouted from behind me, making my eyes roll. I fought the urge to keep walking and just ignore them, but I knew that’d be a bad choice with who this was.

Craaaaaap.

“Danielle.” I greeted through gritted teeth. I turned around to face her. “Hello.”

She gave her normal maniacal grin, creepy as always.

“Auditions are tonight, yeah?” She asked, and then held up her already battered script for me to see. There was bright yellow, green, and pink post-its peeking out from the pages. She’d always been dedicated to her auditions...but she just couldn’t execute.

Honestly? That was okay. She was an alright person for ensemble roles because she’d been a good dancer. But that doesn’t mean she was a great actor.

“They are, so make sure to be at the auditorium by four.” I sounded a little annoyed, but Danielle was oblivious. She wouldn’t notice; even if she did, she wouldn’t care. “Don’t be late, otherwise I’ll make sure you can’t audition.”

Her eyes widened a little, but otherwise that annoying smile still stretched across her face. Ugh, absolutely obnoxious.

“I won’t let you down! Oh, and tell Rory to save me a seat!” Danielle said before walking away with a wave. Once she was out of sight, I rolled my eyes with a shudder and started walking to class again.

*

*

As expected, classes were already boring. One lecture after another, going through all those stupid, stereotypical ice breaker games. Your name, your birthday, your major, your entire life plan...

I didn’t have another class until noon, and that was about an hour and a half from now. To pass the time, I decided to pull out my script. The sun reflected off the white paper and instantly obliterated my retinas, so with a watery blink, I looked away and tucked it back into place in my backpack, vowing to look at it later.

There was...nothing left for me to do.

Wait, is this what people call a break? This is what breathing feels like? Wow, this is so surreal...

Something about the moment just felt wrong. I shouldn’t be idle like this.

Students were laughing as they walked by. I recognized a few of them, but only by their faces. Some I recognized from past classes, others from past ensembles, a few from Lafayette...

Then, though, I found a familiarity within the group.

Erin.

“Ajay,” Erin smiled, looking relaxed as she sat next to me, “didn’t expect to see you sitting here.”

I gave her an eye roll. “Is it...illegal?”

Her loud laugh drew the attention of people around. “In the book of Ajay, it definitely is. It’s almost concerning to see you so calm on audition day.”

So it was noticeable. Huh. Immediately, my posture straightened and I crossed my legs, prompting Erin to laugh a little.

“I guess it’s just weird coming from you. I’m not a drama nerd, but I know this isn’t how directors normally act when they’re hours away from auditions.” She slowly turned to face me before continuing. “Anyway, what brings you to this bench?” 

Her voice was surprisingly even. She looked like she’d been doing a lot better, but I could still see the sadness and exhaustion in her eyes. Erin had always been extremely resilient and level-minded, but even she could only handle so much stress at once. 

“My next class is at noon so I figured I’d sit for a little while.”

Almost immediately, she sighed. “Preach. I have psych, so I’m in for a treat.”

Then, silence. It was thick, deafening, excruciating...I quickly wracked my brain for a question to get rid of it. Her confession about her grandma came up, then so did something else.

I hated to bring it up, but my mind wouldn’t forgive me if I chose something else to talk about.

“Erin, what happened to your grandpa?”

The question was met with another sigh, but this one was heavier. Regret already plagued my brain, but it was too late now. Nice job, Ajay.

“Let me guess, Rory told you?” Her expression wasn’t much different, but it definitely solidified into a more serious one than before.

“Yeah, on the first day back. With your grandma and all, I was wondering if they were both...”

Before she spoke again, she took a deep breath. “No, no. You’re right to wonder. It’s nothing concerning, though. He just didn’t like the idea of being separated from my grandma while she gets treatment, and so he let out a lot of his frustrations on me in an argument a few days before I came here. Said he didn’t like everyone he loved leaving him,” she shrugged, shaking her head, “I called Rory afterwards, since his parents were the same way when he left for college, and that ended up being a three hour-long conversation.”

I nodded when she took a break, and in that moment, I wondered how she worked through this. It was terrible, especially when her family was so far away.

“It hurt when I left this time, of course, but I think it’s good for me to get away from them for a while. I just need some space to process everything.” She shook her head, almost like she was shaking the thoughts away. Instead, she changed the topic. “Did Rory say something bad happened to my grandpa?”

Another nod, and Erin clicked her tongue.

“Rory was just being a gossip like always, then. Pops is just adjusting,” A genuine smile came back to her face, which was always reassuring. “So, I heard you went to your mom’s house? How was that?”

I groaned. “Can we talk about something else?”

She laughed loudly and, again, prompted lots of attention to our bench. “That great, huh?”

I sighed. The weird feeling from earlier came back, slowly eating away at my thoughts once more.

Erin quirked an eyebrow. “You’re making a face.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, challenging her gaze. “I always make a face. Everyone makes a face. It’d be concerning if someone didn’t make a face.”

That answer only made her eyes narrow even more.

“You’re rambling,” With this realization, she looked me over, “are you...okay? You never ramble.”

I could feel my leg start to bounce. “I can assure you that I’m fine.”

She hummed loudly, and I noticed my hands were starting to sweat a little.

“Add that to the pile of other lies you’ve been telling Rory for the past week. He’s been keeping me in the loop since, y’know, you never text me,” her elbow nudged my arm with a force that made me let out an uncharacteristic squeak, “so I’m sorry, but I’m not buying any of that crap. I can easily tell something’s bugging you.”

“I’m just stressed and on edge for tonight. That’s all.” Was all I could say. Knowing Erin, she wouldn’t take that as a viable answer.

“You’re never on edge for auditions. You say it’s one of the most laid back parts of the process...” Erin’s voice was accusative. She could see right through me. Sadly, that had always been one of her talents.

“Sometimes auditions are easy, but this isn’t one of those times,” I heaved a loud sigh and rested my chin on my ever-so-slowly tightening fist, “It’s a big cast, and so that a lot of decisions need to be made.”

Erin was quiet for a second. I could hear her drumming her fingers against the cover of her textbook softly, and then she spoke. “Sure, I get that part, but you’re off, too.”

I whipped my head towards her and found a teasing smile growing on her lips. “How so?”

She cocked her head to the side and playfully squinted. “You’re not wearing a blazer, for one,” she was keeping a tally on her fingers, “you’re too relaxed, you’re bouncing your crossed legs, your posture is super straight, you’re rambling, you’re defensive, you’re even a little jumpy...”

I slouched back down at the mention, and this only made her smirk grow into a full-blown grin. “You’ve been pretty quiet about the show, too. By now, I’d usually hear you going on and on about them like a proud grandma.”

“Erin--”

“Oh, this scene will be so interesting to choreograph, and this scene will bring an audience to tears, and even this--” Erin’s voice was mocking. Of course she was fairly accurate, but it still got on my nerves.

“Okay, I get it,” A helpless sigh escaped me, and she had that knowing look in her eye that made me want to gag.

“What’s up with you?” Erin laughed, narrowing her eyes a little in curiosity. “Don’t leave a poor girl in suspense!”

The truth was something I could barely admit to myself. It was the thought of a feeling I never, ever wanted to experience again. Heartbreak.

“Ajay, you’re blushing...” Erin was smiling now.

And then it hit me. All hope was lost when she covered her mouth and squealed. I’ve never, ever blushed in front of her.

“Ooooohhhhh, do you like someone?” Erin started to cheer. I opened my mouth to stop her from getting too loud, but she was already squealing again. There was no stopping the stares from the passing students now. “Oh. My. God! And that someone is making you nervous, right?”

I grimaced, the reminder of why I kept quiet surfacing for the millionth time. People always make a big deal out of your feelings, so that’s why you never show any emotion.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t--” The heat sweltered on my cheeks, and I knew it was still visible when Erin clapped. She looked so relieved while I wanted the world to open up and swallow me whole.

“Oh, I called it! I so called it!”

I looked up at her and found her grinning with some emotion I couldn’t quite place. She looked like she was about to scream! “Erin, if you tell anyone, I swear to any and every deity in this damn universe--”

“Anyone does not include Rory. He needs to know!” Erin said excitedly.

“He does not need to know! That information is not on a need-to-know basis!”

And he’ll know exactly who it is!

“Ajay! This is awesome! It’s been so long since you liked someone!”

Awesome? Awesome?

“Awesome is one of the last words I’d use.” I could practically feel the blush on my cheeks slowly burn me from the outside in; it made me wonder if there were actual flames dancing on my skin. “They might be auditioning. I...can’t let something like that distract me from the show. You know what happened with Kelly.”

Finally, Erin let her smile turn into something more composed.

“That was two years ago. Plus, not to mention, it was with a girl who was as blind as a bat.” Erin lifted a hand onto my shoulder and patted it gently, “You’ve changed since then, so I think it’s safe for you to let that fear go.”

“I know I’ve changed,” I was basically whispering at this point, “but I guess I’m just...”

She patted my shoulder again. “You’re scared.”

Before I could bite my tongue, I blurted, “Terrified.”

She sat in silence for a minute, but then, that sly grin of hers was back. “Well, then.”

“What do I do?”

Erin placed her hands on my shoulders. “One of the healthiest ways to overcome a fear is through exposure therapy. So, maybe...you could tell me who they are?”

I searched her eyes, and much like her grin, all I found was warmth. It was the warmth that’d been missing from Erin since we’d arrived on campus. It was nice to see her start to heal from her summer and return to her normal self.

Still, I blurted the one word on my tongue. “No.”

She sighed, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “Ugh, fine. But just build the courage up sooner rather than later, please? I don’t handle anticipation very well and I’d very much like to know who made you this way.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You think I’m ready for that?”

Erin stood up, suddenly, and laughed. “That’s up for you to decide. Though, from an outsider’s perspective, I think you would’ve been just fine two years ago.”

Her gaze went soft for a second, but it was gone before I could decipher more. “Anywho, text me if you need help asking this mystery person out. You know I’d be happy to help!”

She was off with a sly wink before I could retort, already whipping her phone out to text Rory. Even if I didn’t want that to happen, I smiled.

*

*

My noon class was both a bore and a nightmare. Calculus was all gibberish - well, all math was - so I did my best to not pay attention to the professor. I needed to keep my head screwed on straight for later, so instead, I focused on reading through the script and notes I added in the margins. It ended up being quite nice, actually.

After the class spawned from the fiery depths of hell finished, I had a quick lunch consisting of a pack of rainbow goldfish crackers and hurried across campus to my next class.

Theatre arts was the perfect class for today, especially with it being audition night. Prime location and a great way to get back into the swing of things.

When I arrived, the auditorium entrance was buzzing with people. The drama building has never been a popular destination during the day, so what gives? Were auditions really something special this year?

Among the many faces, I spotted Rory, Skye, Leila, and Charlotte all huddled around a bulletin board on the front lawn. From the looks of it, they were...arguing, I suppose.

“...but wait! Skye, you’re good with computers!” Leila gasped, pointing at whatever was pinned on the board. “There are still tech spots available! And there isn’t an audition necessary for them.”

I watched Skye shake her head. Her hair was down, per usual, and she looked uptight. That was normal for her. But she also looked anxious when her eyes were looking at the bulletin board.

“Leila, you never need to audition for a tech spot,” Charlotte sighed, shaking her head, “can we please just let Skye make her own decision?”

“But there always needs to be more tech people! And it’d be fun to have another friend be at rehearsals.” Rory was pleading. He looked at Skye like she was his saving grace. “Please, Skye?”

It wasn’t an exaggeration at how small the tech crew was. Everyone in the drama program wants to act, not do tech. So, if anyone in the cast or crew heard about another tech, they’d jump at the opportunity and recruit them.

Skye gave everyone a look of dismay, then before she spoke, her eyes met mine.

“Ajay,” Skye said loudly, waving me closer. I hurried over and became apart of the huddle, and somehow fate was nice enough to put me next to Charlotte. “Does the drama program need more tech people?”

She was about to hate my guts.

“There’s never enough of them,” Memories of failing to do sound board last year flooded my mind, “don’t mind me asking, but would you be willing to give it a shot?”

That’s what made Skye groan. “Ugggg, you too?”

Her response made Leila laugh, but that was the only sound before a few moments of complete silence.

Finally, Skye sighed in defeat. “Depends. I’ll have to see what the software looks like first.”

I’ll take that as a yes...for now.

“Auditions are--” I started, but then Skye rolled her eyes.

“If I hear about auditions being tonight one more time, I swear...” Skye said, a hint of a smirk coming onto her face as she started to laugh. That was different, too; I don’t think I’ve ever heard her actual laugh.

“So does that mean you’ll do it?” Rory asked eagerly.

Skye smiled; it was small, but it was genuine. All the anxiety in her eyes vanished. “We’ll see.”

“Don’t feel forced to, though!” Charlotte squeaked, her voice cracking a little. “There are plenty of techs out there--”

“No! Don’t you dare rub her the wrong way!” Rory exclaimed, making Charlotte giggle.

It was cute. That thought alone made me blush a little.

Then, Leila gasped, her eyes widening in panic.

“Oh crap! I have to go!” Leila yelled, checking her phone. I decided to check my watch, and it read that it was almost two. Then she piped up again. “Skye, wanna walk with me?”

Skye let out a soft, surprised gasp. Her cheeks visibly reddened against her pale skin as she nodded.

“Sure,” Skye said, clearing her throat, “uh, maybe I’ll see you guys later,” she waved, allowing Leila to quickly drag her away by the arm, “jeez, lady, slow down--”

“Bye guys!” Leila yelled over her shoulder, then disappeared with Skye down the sidewalk and into a crowd of students.

Rory was the first one to speak, looking right at Charlotte. “Let me guess, you gotta go to the drama building?”

She nodded. “Whoa...it’s almost like I told you that when I got here...”

The two kept joking around as we started to walk into the building, but I kept thinking about what Erin had said about forgetting the whole Kelly situation. It felt like a great idea, but I couldn’t shake away all the fear associated with it.

It was another one of those things that’d eat away at my brain, but I guess that’d be okay. There wasn’t anything I could do about it now...

*

*

Theatre Arts wasn’t as boring as usual, but it was definitely a lot more chaotic. Commands for props here, calls for help with setting the lights up over there, and somewhere in between, lots of laughing coming from Charlotte and Rory.

It looked like Charlotte was blushing from here, but I couldn’t exactly tell. She and Rory were on the complete opposite side of the auditorium.

Professor Olson and I were skimming through the lists we had in front of us. It was hard to focus on the character descriptions I’ve read a gazillion times when I heard Charlotte’s vivacious laugh in the background.

“Alright,” Olson said, sounding exhausted already, “I’ve had some people hang posters around campus, so this shouldn’t be a hard place to find. Hopefully we get some new faces around here...”

Instantly, I looked over to Charlotte, still laughing at something Rory had said. Her smile brightened tenfold when she met my gaze, and she eagerly waved. With a small smile, I shook my head and looked back at Olson.

“That shouldn’t be too much of an issue,” I pulled out the form with all the auditionees on it and pointed to her name, “Charlotte Parker. Freshman.”

He nodded quizzically. “Anything unique about her?”

A lot, my brain immediately responded, though I shook the thought away.

“She performed at the Spotlite festival in London as a lead a few years back,” The professor’s eyebrows shot up, “and her school won. So I’d say she’s a pretty strong contender tonight.”

The fact that she was auditioning made me feel like I’d been punched in the gut by the universe. Exactly what I wished to not happen...happened. Though, at the same time, I couldn’t help but be a little excited to see what she could do on stage.

“That’s quite the accomplishment. Is there anyone else you know?”

As we ran through the list once more, a few names stuck out like sore thumbs; Rory, Danielle, Natalie, Clint, Jordan, and some frequents I’ve seen over the past couple years.

What finally tore my attention from the conversation was a gleeful scream.

“Skye!”

Charlotte. Duh.

Then, rushed footsteps up the aisle and towards the doors. A collision, then a groan of “why”. My guess: there was a hug and it’d been extremely one-sided.

That was Skye, alright.

Wait, my thoughts started to jumble together in panic, it’s already four?

Sure enough, I checked my watch. It was already a quarter til four.

“I hope you’re ready. It looks like this’ll be a long one.” Olson gestured back to the doors where Skye and Charlotte had still been talking. Several people were starting to flood into the seats, all with scripts in hand, and began to mingle.

“Jesus,” I mumbled.

As the start time approached, I got a little more nervous when thinking about the inevitable crashing and burning of this show if I let my feelings come before my job as a director.

Then, a loud timer rang off of Olson’s phone. He leaned over and whispered. “Show time.”

*

*

“Next, please!”

Already an hour in and we’d only made it through half of the list.

Jordan was on stage and running through their lines. They had a great way of controlling their emotions, but it all felt a little bland. However, it could’ve quite possibly been the scene they chose; a scene of the princess or prince daydreaming about the knight. 

I knew it’d be a popular scene for auditions; it really goes into the character of the princess or prince by going through ranges of emotion, from happiness and love to humiliation and regret. The scene is extremely captivating and is a great choice for actors to showcase the abilities they could bring to the table if they got the role. 

What I wasn’t prepared for, though, was the majority of the people auditioning for the role to use the same exact scene. Especially Jordan, who was usually someone who chose scenes that’d be risky for others. 

Strange.

“Alright, thank you, Jordan.” Professor Olson said, composed as ever. It took him a few moments to finish writing in notes next to Jordan’s name, but then he finished and glanced at the auditionee list. “Next, I’d like to see Danielle. Start whenever you’re ready.”

My eyes rolled. She scampered up onto the stage, script in hand, and started with a completely different tone than the millions of other scenes we’d heard. I quickly searched for the passage she’d been reading from in the never-ending stack of papers on the table.

She was reading for the witch, surprisingly enough. Her voice was startlingly dark. It was deep, it was evil, it was rich, it was...what we’d been looking for in a witch. However, her downfall was the lack of control over her emotions.

“Alright, Danielle, thank you.” Olson held up his hand, jotting a quick note down next to her name. Voice: dark, brooding, menacing. Emotions: uncontrolled.

During the transition, I took a glance back at the list to see who’d be next, and my heart stopped. It’s like I couldn’t feel it beat in my chest; it’d felt like it stopped entirely-

“Kelly, whenever you’re ready.”

My eyes snapped up to the stage, and there she stood. For the most part, she’d been the same Kelly I fell for two years ago, but this time, I didn’t get the butterflies in my stomach. Instead, the sight made me a little uneasy. Obviously it wasn’t her appearance, because that was the same, but her very presence.

The only feelings I had were irritation and sorrow and cowardice and regret--

“Ajay, are you ready?” Olson asked. The room was silent, and so I realized they’d been waiting on me.

“Oh. Um, yeah, go ahead.” My voice was rushed, but I barely noticed as the nostalgic feeling of her chocolate brown eyes burning into my being washed over me. It didn’t make me nervous like it used to, nor did it render me speechless.

“Right. Um.” Kelly said anxiously, fiddling with her script before she started to repeat the average line for the prince and princess roles. I noticed that her voice had the same lilt, but something didn’t feel right with it. 

It’s not for the right character, that’s why.

I tapped Olson’s shoulder and pointed to another character on the list, watching as he nodded.

“Kelly,” He interrupted her mid-sentence, and a look of fear glazed her eyes, “have you read over any lines for the witch?”

She shook her head, the look of fear melting into one of utter confusion.

“Flip back a page in your script and choose a line from the witch, then read it as you see fit. Take your time.”

I was so happy Olson was the one doing all the talking. I’d probably just tell her to move on at this point.

After a few moments, Kelly nodded and took a deep breath. Much like Danielle, she had the sharp undertones we’d been looking for, but they weren’t as clear as Danielle’s. Kelly, though, did have more control over her emotions.

I never thought I’d find myself saying this, but I hoped Danielle would have more advantages over Kelly. I just didn’t want to work with her again, not after what happened.

“Alright, Kelly, we’ll consider you for both options. Thank you.” 

At this point, Olson sounded exhausted beyond belief.

Kelly left the stage with a nod. My eyes met hers just before she vanished, and there was some emotion in them that I couldn’t quite place. Guilt, annoyance, confusion...I really didn’t know.

When she left the stage completely, it felt like there was a heavy weight lifted off of my shoulders.

“Well...let’s see here...” Olson mumbled under his breath, taking a sip of his coffee before he pointed down at one last list of names. “Only a few more left. How’re we looking?”

There’d been several great candidates for each role; this was always great, since then we’d have understudies and members for a complete ensemble.

“Like we’ll have some decisions to make, for sure,” I ran a hand through my hair as I read through the notes I made for each auditionee, “especially for a few of our veteran actors.”

It was true. Some were better for other roles, some didn’t have the strength or spark they did last year, some were improving...

“People change, scripts change, expectations change. It’s just a new journey to start,” When the exhausted professor smiled, the faintest purple bags beneath his eyes deepened, “and new journeys require a fresh and open mind.”

*

*

Somehow, Charlotte was the last to audition. When she was called to the stage, it was almost eight. Everyone in the house seats looked like they wanted to go home.

A familiar fluttering in my stomach appeared when she looked at me from beneath the stage lights. She looked like she’d been in her element, her smile shimmering and her eyes sparkling as she looked around at the red velvet seats in front of her. The script she held was neat and shook a bit, but her resolve remained calm and composed.

A good stage presence, I noted.

“Alright, Charlotte, because you’re new, do you have any questions I can answer before you start?” Olson’s voice gave way to his fatigue from asking the same question all evening, but Charlotte shook her head.

“All of my questions were answered throughout the evening,” She smiled, her voice smooth, “but if I have any, I’ll be sure to ask.”

That was an answer that made Olson blink in surprise. He wasn’t someone to be speechless, but those few seconds were definitely silent. It was clear she’d impressed him with just a sentence.

I definitely know the feeling...

“Excellent, so I believe you’re ready to go,” Olson wrote a few notes on his paper, then looked back up, “any specific role you’re auditioning for, or are you open to any?”

Charlotte cleared her throat and glanced at me before she focused on Olson once more. Her posture visibly straightened.

“I’d be open to any role. Lead, understudy, or ensemble.”

Jeez, she really does carry herself well.

“Sounds good...” After another scribbled note, Olson waved at her to continue. “Alright, whenever you’re ready.”

Her shoulders rose with a deep breath and she closed her eyes. It stayed that way for a second, and I couldn’t help but continue to admire her. It took strength to be that calm in front of a crowd.

She’s looks so natural up there, almost like that stage was built for her...

When her eyes opened, it’s like she’d transformed into an entirely new person. Her expression radiated innocence and her eyes filled with life, even more so than usual.

Then, she started to speak from a scene we hadn’t heard at all today. It was one where the prince or princess would come across the witch for the first time; this was a powerful and somewhat challenging scene, as the actor needed to portray multiple emotions at once while still keeping themselves under a neutral mask.

A minute passed, and then two, and then maybe even three. I had no idea. But, what I did know for sure, was that her acting was out of this world.

From what she’d put forth so far, it looked like she’d barely broken a sweat. Her voice was perfect and her control on her emotions was even better. She wasn’t overconfident, but calm. She was a force to be reckoned with on that stage, and it was equally empowering and terrifying. She had so much power, so much passion, so much potential...

She had everything we were looking for in this role.

Olson leaned over with wide eyes. “Wow. I...would like to believe we just found our princess.”

I couldn’t help but smile when the response left my mouth. “Absolutely.”

Then, the sudden horror dawned on me.

Princess. Charlotte...was princess.

*

*

It’d only been about ten minutes after she left the stage with a polite bow and dazzling smile that the entire auditorium started to empty out. Only a few stragglers were talking by the stage or the exits.

One of them in particular smiled and sped over to me.

“Ajay,” Charlotte grinned, “hi.”

“Charlotte,” I responded, “how’re you?”

She puffed out her rosy cheeks before letting the air out in a long sigh.

“So tired,” She was lightly laughing now. It was a little out of place, but it was cute. “Since I just decided to audition a few days ago, I’ve been pulling all-nighters with Leila to get my lines right.”

I feigned a smile and let a white lie slip through my teeth. “I’m glad you decided to audition.”

“Me too. I’m excited to see your directing skills in action,” She said this with a wink, “because it’s all I ever hear about from Rory.”

“Really?” Why does he talk about my directing...?

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “He gushes about how great of a director you are, like, all the time. You really haven’t heard any of this?”

I gave her a deadpan look, and she huffed out a laugh.

“Well, you should ask him about it. I’m sure he’d gladly tell you about how amazing you are,” she said thoughtfully, “he looks up to you, you know. It’s easy to see by the way he talks about you.”

I can’t imagine why...

“That’s surpris--” Before I could get through my sentence, I watched Charlotte stumble forward into me. Everything felt like it’d been in slow motion; her eyes widening slowly as her arms opened to hold onto me. Without another thought, mine did the same, wrapping around her small form carefully.

“Whoa!” Charlotte gasped with her arms tight around my torso and cheek pressed against my chest. I felt my heart start to pound, so I started worrying she could feel it thumping against her cheek.

The sound of laughter could be heard behind her, and when I looked up, I caught a glimpse of Danielle and a few others sauntering away. I glared at their backs, my grip on Charlotte tightening by a fraction.

Danielle better keep to herself from now on, because if that happens again--

The thought made a snarl appear on my face, and I quickly shook it away.

“You okay?” I asked, instantly feeling her rapid nod against my chest. I expected her to move...but she didn’t.

“Y-Yeah, just caught off-guard, um, I’m good.” Her voice sounded panicked. She pulled away from me slowly, looking up into my eyes with a deep red blush. “Thanks for not letting me fall.”

“Well, you didn’t really give me a choice.” I teased, watching her eyes widen for a second before she looked away.

“Right. Well. Uh, I should probably get going. I already have a ton of homework,” she hummed, smiling once more, “I’ll see you...sometime this week?”

I nodded, returning her smile. My heart felt like it was floating.

“Of course. Good night, Charlotte.”

“G’night,” She smiled and waved, awkwardly walking out the door. This whole goodbye thing felt like the new normal - that is, watching her run off while I stay glued to my spot, still living in the previous moment and imagining her eyes, her voice, her smile--

“Ajay! C’mon, man,” Rory shouted from the stage, “let’s go get dinner before we starve.”

It was like I snapped from a daze when I blinked.

The effect she had on me was maddening, but I realized I couldn’t get enough of it. Everything about her was just so frustratingly perfect--

“I’m in the mood for some absurdly overpriced pizza,” I said abruptly, walking with Rory out into the cool September night air. He laughed, nodding in agreement.

“Ohhhh, me too!”

I could swear the scent of her perfume drifted along in the breeze, but that was probably just my mind playing tricks on me.

*

*

It was hard to fall asleep that night. Maybe...maybe greasy pizza wasn’t the best idea.

I kept flipping over, hoping to find that one magical position and miraculously succumb to sleep.

But I just couldn’t get her out of my head.

This shouldn’t even be happening. Why did I let this happen? She was definitely involved with the show now. My rule still applies to me!

But...Charlotte. Sweet, kind, talented Charlotte.

Ug. The temptation to scream into my pillow was terrifyingly high.

For the love of...

Then, a thought. With a blink, I reached over to grab my glasses and a pen. After I turned my phone’s flashlight on, the feeling of a leather book from underneath my pillow brushed against my fingers. At the feeling, I sighed.

*

*

September 17th, 2020

Dear Diary...

Why does life have to be so complicated?

*

*

It wasn’t anything extensive, but my brain felt tired after writing all of that. So...short entry it was. Oh, did I sign it?

Too late. It was already closed.

I still felt like I was going to explode, but it was less severe than before. Progress. Maybe I could fall asleep now.

When I put everything back and folded my glasses, my head dreadfully hit the pillow with a soft thud. To make matters even better, I thought about her audition. How it was breathtakingly powerful and absolutely stunning. About how her voice was perfect for the part. About how...

It’s going to be a long night.

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 6: Next

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~5500

Rating: PG-13 (rare language)

Summary: Eighteen hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: Sorry again for the delay on this one! I know PB has basically turned the laws of Cordonia into whatever they need them to be for plot reasons, but that’s not sufficient for me, so I am trying to construct some sort of framework based on what we know from TRM, ROE, and TRR/TRH. We’ll see how it goes...

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

“Riley… Hey, Riley.”

Riley’s eyes fluttered open as she felt a hand on her shoulder and heard Drake whispering her name, tugging her awake. It took her a few seconds to place herself as she glanced around the room. She reached for the nightstand with a fumbling hand before she remembered she didn’t have her glasses. She squinted at Drake. Thankfully, he’d crouched down in front of her, so he was at least in focus, even if the rest of the hotel room was a giant blur. 

“Is everything okay?”

Drake nodded, running a hand over his chin. He was already showered, shaved, and dressed in a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans. “I am going to go to the bakery across the street and see if any of the locals can point me towards a cheap, used car dealership.”

“Okay. I don’t think I’m going to be much help.” She’d always meant to learn Greek since moving to Cordonia, but she’d only ever gotten around to learning a handful of words. After all, official court business was always conducted in English, and most of the citizens of Valtoria were bilingual, so there had never really been a need. Until now apparently. It’s not that no one in Ioannina spoke English, but it wasn’t as common as she was used to. Even last night, she’d been utterly dependent on Drake to discuss what they needed in a hotel room with the man at the front desk.

“Yeah, that’s why I thought you might want to just stay here with Bridget.” At his statement, they both instinctively looked down at their daughter, still sleeping soundly along Riley’s side. Riley knew it wasn’t ideal that they decided to let her sleep in the same bed with them last night, but they didn’t really have any other options when the hotel employee told Drake there were no cribs available. And truth be told, Riley hadn’t wanted to let Bridget leave her side. Things were still too raw, too fresh.

“You don’t want me to come along?” 

Drake shook his head slowly as he gently placed a hand on Bridget’s head. “I just figured it might be nice for her to be able to crawl and play and all that. Try and make things a little more normal for her, I guess.”

He did have a point. Normally, Bridget was able to crawl around and explore while they were taking meetings at Valtoria. Even on days where they had to go to the palace, one of them usually stuck with Bridget in her room there while the other handled all the official business. And Bridget was definitely at an age where she wanted to move about her environment. She didn’t like being restrained for too long.

“Okay. So you’re just going to get us a car then?”

He paused for a moment. “I think we need more than a car, Riley. I’m gonna try and find somewhere that sells outdoor supplies and camping gear. Plus a travel crib and a car seat for her. Maybe some toys, too.”

“You think we’re going to have to camp out to stay safe?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I would rather have a tent and some sleeping bags and not need them than have to panic and hide out with nothing.”

She swallowed roughly before she responded, staring down at their daughter, still passed out and oblivious to everything that had transpired in the past day. “How bad do you think things are going to get for us, Drake?”

He didn’t answer her right away, so after a few seconds she looked up and found him staring at her intently. “I have no idea. This will probably all just be a wild story if Liam keeps his title, but if Barthelemy succeeds… fuck, Riley. Every law enforcement agent in the EU will have the right to arrest us for kidnapping and send us back.”

“This is insanity. She’s our kid. Why would other countries recognize us traveling with her as a kidnapping?”

There was another pause as Drake glanced down, staring at the floor. “Because she’s Cordonia’s kid before she’s our kid. And kidnapping is one of the crimes that doesn’t require criminality verification in the arresting country under a European Arrest Warrant.” She just stared at him, wondering why this was yet another piece of random trivia he knew. As if he could read her thoughts, he glanced up and continued, “I did some research when I couldn’t sleep last night.” 

“So another country would really just send us back for taking her out of Cordonia?”

“She’s legally Cordonia’s child.”

Riley sighed, trying to keep tears of frustration from forming. She’d cried enough yesterday, she didn’t need Drake thinking she wasn’t up to this again. But it just was a shitty situation. One they never should have been in at all.

“It’s not right, Drake.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s a little late to change that fact now.”

A wave of guilt washed over Riley as his words hung in the air. She could have put a stop to this bullshit long ago. She should have put a stop to it. And now everything was teetering on the edge of disaster. But she had to get a grip. She was not going to be an emotional mess today. So she took one last deep breath before responding to Drake.

“I think your plan makes sense. Can you stay with her while I get cleaned up before you go?”

Drake frowned just slightly, clearly wondering about the slight redirection of their conversation, but he nodded slowly, scooping up Bridget laying her across his chest as he settled down on top of the covers while Riley dug through the bag of clothing, trying to find something to wear.

As she showered, the lukewarm-at-best water pelting over her hair and skin, she tried to keep her thoughts from spiraling. Things were bad, but they could have been worse. They were together. They were able to withdraw money yesterday, so their accounts weren’t frozen yet. And they had some of their basic needs covered, thanks to Ray.

Ray had bought them several changes of clothing, some basic toiletries, more diapers and formula, and a few days of food before returning to Cordonia. He hadn’t let them pay for any of it, which was far too kind considering they’d lied to him and possibly made him an accessory to kidnapping. But he’d remained helpful and unfazed when they’d confessed that Lythikos was supposed to be their destination, not Greece. And he’d gotten them fairly well set up before he got back in the town car to return to Cordonia, a much appreciated kindness.

She wondered how things had gone when he spoke to Olivia, how pissed off she was about it all. Olivia hadn’t called them since they told her they were committed to staying away from Cordonia, so Riley had no idea how she was handling everything or how the hearing went. Hana had called again last night. She was alone at their home, trying to pack up a few of their personal belongings in hopes of getting them to them at some point if needed. She’d been kind and gentle, asking if there were certain items of clothing or specific toys that should be a priority. Riley didn’t know how Hana intended to get those belongings to them, but it was a sweet gesture. Even though she knew Hana wished they’d stayed in Cordonia, she felt grateful that her friend was trying to help them, even if she disagreed with Riley’s actions.

So there were some silver linings. But overall, things felt overwhelming and out of control. Riley had known somewhere in her mind that things were going to be horrible and stressful and mad difficult when she’d decided to get Bridget out of Cordonia as quickly as possible yesterday. But after a little sleep - admittedly very little given how upset she was about everything - things felt like they could quickly become insurmountable. 

But she just couldn’t bring herself to head back for Cordonia. No matter how many worries she had about how the three of them were going to get through things going forward, there was a better chance of them being together through it all outside that country, and she just felt safer, knowing there would at least be more difficulties for Barthelemy and any of his posse to get their hands on her daughter. Nothing about Cordonia was safe. And while she wished she’d been able to recognize that earlier, she couldn’t go back now. Not when it finally felt like her eyes were open. 

Stepping out of the shower, she quickly dressed and ran a comb through her hair, brushing her teeth and popping in her contacts before leaving the bathroom. She heard Bridget’s giggles and babbles right away. Turning into the main part of the small hotel room, she saw Drake sitting on the edge of the bed, bouncing Bridget on his knees as he held her in a standing position. She loved being stood upright like that, and it seemed like she’d be pulling up to stand on her own any day now.

When Drake saw Riley, he scooped Bridget into his arms and scooted off the bed. “She only woke up about 10 minutes ago. I can feed her before I head out if you want.”

“No, I’ve got it,” Riley said with a little shake of her head, taking Bridget as she got out a bottle, the formula, and a bottle of water. She was a bit surprised to see Drake digging through the diaper bag, pulling out all the money they’d managed to withdraw from their accounts yesterday. They’d both hemmed and hawed about pulling funds from the accounts tied to Valtoria, but eventually decided on doing it. After all, compared to kidnapping and treason, embezzlement charges were really just a drop in the ocean.

“You’re taking all the cash?”

“We haven’t heard from Olivia or Hana since last evening. Either things are still in progress, or they can’t safely get in touch with us. If it’s the latter, our accounts might be frozen now. I need to be prepared.”

Riley didn’t like the thought of being left without any money, even if she knew Drake was right. It left her feeling vulnerable, or rather even more vulnerable. She couldn’t help it, and a small, shaky little sigh escaped.

Drake pivoted to look at her, his eyes intense. “I’m trusting you not to take off with my kid while I’m gone. It seems like the least you could do is trust me not to take off with the money.”

There was just a hint of bitterness in his voice, but mostly he just sounded tired. Riley knew she was being callous with him. It was just hard to not let all her fears and worries spill over into everything she did and said at this point.

“You’re right; I’m sorry,” she said as she shook up the bottle of formula.

Drake let out a sigh, tucked the money in his wallet, and dropped a kiss on both her and Bridget’s foreheads. “Hopefully, I’ll be back in a few hours. Call if you need me, okay?”

She nodded and gave him a small little smile, but then he was off, hopefully to pull more cash and to get them some transportation. It was just her and Bridget, and even though that was her initial plan yesterday, it felt very lonely at the moment.

“Oh, Peanut. Mama has turned Daddy into a fugitive,” she cooed, giving Bridget the bottle. Figuring she should probably put this time to good use, she grabbed her phone quickly while Bridget actually had a good grasp on the bottle and sat down on the end of the bed, pulling up “How to run from law enforcement” as a search. At this point, they were going to be able to trace their ATM withdrawals anyway. If they somehow got ahold of her digital records from this phone, well, this search wouldn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know. Better to be at least a little prepared when Drake got back and they had to plan their next steps.

After reading for a few minutes, Riley swiped open her contacts list and tapped Drake’s name at the top of her favorites list. He answered almost instantly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, we’re fine. I just have something else you should buy.”

“What?”

“Burner phones.”

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

It was almost like deja vu, sitting in the same seat in the same courtroom as once again everyone rose to their feet except Barthelemy and himself. This time, Liam knew that staying seated would probably not be an option when the justice left the courtroom. He probably should have risen now, to be honest. The no-confidence vote that happened this morning was almost certainly going to stand. But Liam wasn’t ready to look defeated. He would wait until this hearing concluded before deferring and recognizing that anyone else might hold the power of the crown. 

The parties present today were almost identical to last night, with the addition of Hakim and Kiara on Barthelemy’s side and Hana on his. Normally, a different High Court justice would have been assigned since High Justice Questa had literally just ruled on an emergency hearing, but given that the same parties were named, she had volunteered to see this through. The usher waited until she sat down before once again announcing that all parties had been sworn in. As soon as he was finished, the justice looked from desk to desk, annoyance clearly written all over her face. It wasn’t surprising, but it didn’t bode well for either legal team. 

“Not even 24 hours later, gentlemen? You really are determined to not let me have my weekend, aren’t you?” High Justice Questa said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “Did we manage to actually legally call the Conventus Nobilis today? It looks like it was all in order based on this documentation from both parties,” she said as she flipped through stacks of paper, “a no-confidence vote that passed with a margin of three to two and installed the patriarch of House Beaumont as king-regent, so I’m not sure what your case is, Mr. Rys.”

Liam fought to keep his face steady. He’d been expecting it, mentally preparing for it, but hearing his surname used instead of his title, a surname that he almost never had needed in his life still burned inside him, a deep pain and sense of failure, both on a personal and public level.

“Your Honor, my client is not challenging the loss of his power. He is now acting as a concerned citizen who believes that the transfer of power to the defendant was illegally performed,” Diana stated calmly as she rose and leaned in to the microphone.

“A concerned citizen? Right, I’m sure that’s his only motivation. Regardless, the brief you submitted is compelling. There obviously isn’t a large amount of precedent for me to base my decision on, so I am going to carefully listen to oral arguments to supplement and clarify the briefs both parties submitted. Additionally, depending on the intricacies of how different historical and modern laws intersect with this… unusual combination of circumstances, I may just offer a provisional ruling with a formal hearing scheduled in front of the full High Court as soon as possible if I feel this is too complex and unprecedented to be decided by just myself. Do both parties understand?”

Both Diana and Charles acknowledged her statement, then Diana delved into her arguments.

“Your Honor, if a reigning monarch is removed from the throne, the law clearly states that next in line for the throne should assume a role of king- or queen-regent until a Conclave can be held, at which time the major noble houses will determine the new royal line. Additionally, Cordonian law states that any direct heirs to the throne who have not come of age should have at least two regents recorded in case of their ascension to the throne before they reach adulthood. Given that these two laws are clear, I do not believe that the results of the Conventus Nobilis vote can legally do any more than remove my client from power. The major houses do not have the power to name anyone they’d like as regent.

“Bridget Walker is the clear queen-regent at this point, Your Honor, and the documentation submitted with her anointing named the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria as her regents. Therefore, it is our contention that one of them should serve as regent until a Conclave can legally occur. It seems like the most logical conclusion from the laws on file.”

“The issue, Diana, is that both the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria were named in the no-confidence vote as well. At least, that’s what I assume you are going to tell me, Charles,” High Justice Questa said as she turned slightly in her chair to face the defense desk.

“Indeed, Your Honor. The results of that vote clearly indicate that the majority of the major noble houses fear for our country’s well-being and prosperity if either of the Walkers are allowed to serve this country as regent. My client has graciously offered to step into that role, seeing as the Duchess of Valtoria was sponsored by House Beaumont and is therefore an honorary member.”

“Your issue, Charles, is that your client can’t legally do that,” High Justice Questa added, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows. The fact that she was tearing through Barthelemy’s team’s arguments just as quickly as she had their own was a small reassurance. 

“He may have offered his services, but the majority of the noble houses support his regency as well.”

“Yes, but they don’t have that power either. They only get to name a new monarch, acting or otherwise, during a Conclave. And the vote today was not a Conclave, was it Charles?”

“No, Your Honor. A Conclave has to occur at the end of a Social Season.”

“Exactly. The regents for an heir who is too young to rule are decided by the reigning monarch at the time of the heir’s anointment, not by anyone else. In this case, since our new Queen-Regent was not born into the royal bloodline, but established in her position via Royal Decree, it is a noted precedent to allow the child’s parents to have a say in who is named as his or her regents. Why your client has decided he can just sidestep all of that is concerning. He’s claimed the power of the law for himself while being ignorant of our country’s laws at best, or with a willful disregard for them at worst. And quite frankly, the fact that the actual head of House Beaumont, his elder son, voted against him is not exactly a ringing endorsement.”

“Your Honor, someone needs to act as Queen-Regent Bridget’s regent!”

“Indeed, but not your client. The High Court does not recognize Lord Beaumont as acting regent at this time. Now, Diana,” High Justice Questa continued, not missing a beat, “your client was the reigning monarch at the time of Queen-Regent Bridget’s anointing. I see in your briefs that he has offered up two alternative regents for Queen-Regent Bridget - Lady Hana Lee or Lord Maxwell Beaumont.”

This had been part of their strategy, devised wearily sometime after 2 am and numerous cups of coffee. Since it was unlikely that the no-confidence vote was going to go their way, Diana had suggested naming alternate regents for Bridget, ones that would both be more sympathetic to his cause and that would be believable as alternate choices from Drake and Riley. Picking Hana and Maxwell had been the obvious choice.

“Your Honor!” Charles called out upon hearing those names, but he immediately quieted and sat back down when High Justice Questa raised her hand. She nodded at Diana, indicating she should continue in spite of the outburst from the opposing legal team.

“Yes, Your Honor. They are Queen-Regent Bridget’s godparents, indicating that the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria would have approved of either of them for this role, and my client is in total agreement.”

The justice didn’t respond immediately, but started flipping through a briefing, skimming a section when she arrived at the part she clearly wanted to discuss. Liam knew this was going to be their largest issue. They’d attempted to word the briefing carefully, not making it immediately apparent that Drake and Riley hadn’t actually been involved with the decision to name Hana and Maxwell up as alternative regents. But Questa was quick, and she had a great mind for details. The fact that this was the point in the hearing that she was explicitly referencing the text did not bode well for them.

“Diana, I’m looking at your wording here, where you mention your client’s reasoning for naming those two as possibilities for this role. Neither in your statement just now nor in this document do you ever quote the Walkers to indicate their approval. Is there a reason for this?”

Diana tried to be subtle, but Liam noticed her taking a deep breath before she responded, “Your Honor, we didn’t have a chance to speak to them directly. However, their-”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You didn’t have a chance to talk to them? Really?” Whatever scorn Questa held for Barthelemy, Liam felt it directed his way now, but at least doubled or tripled. She’d seen right through their little bluff.

“Everything has been so rushed, Your Honor,” Diana tried to justify, but Liam knew there was no salvaging this situation at this point.

“It seems like talking to the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria should have been high on your priority list to me. Common sense would indicate that if your argument was that those two individuals, in addition to your client, are responsible for naming a regent, actually getting them to name a regent would be pretty important to your case. So tell me, why haven’t you spoken to them regarding this matter? In fact, why aren’t they here in person? Last night I figured they had already put their daughter to sleep and were reluctant to leave her, but it’s-” she glanced quickly at her watch “-not even 5 pm. This seems like an important hearing for their family.”

“I haven’t been able to get in touch with them, Your Honor.”

High Justice Questa’s shoulders sagged slightly before she asked the question Liam was dreading. “Does your client even know their location at this time?”

Diana leaned over to him and whispered, “How do you want to play this, sir?”

He’d pulled Diana aside last night and informed her that Drake, Riley, and Bridget had likely fled the country, and that he had been choosing to stay ignorant of any information that would confirm that fact. She’d encouraged him to report his suspicions officially right then, insisting that he was her client, not them, but Liam didn’t feel throwing them to the wolves was the correct call.  He was frustrated and personally hurt, but he knew there was no malice behind their actions. Besides, it wasn’t likely to improve his situation. So, he’d insisted on sticking to his technical ignorance then, and he had no intention of deviating from that plan now.

“As we discussed, Diana”

With a little nod, she returned to her microphone. “He believes that they headed to Lythikos at the invitation of Duchess Nevrakis for some privacy, but he hasn’t spoken to them since they were on the road.”

Questa’s reaction was immediate, her eyes closing and a hand rubbing roughly over them. She looked completely done with the actions of everyone in the room. Liam honestly couldn’t blame her. He was well aware that from an outside perspective, both he and Barthelemy looked like bumbling fools at the moment. On the other side of the courtroom, Liam noticed significant whispering and chatter. Clearly, Barthelemy’s camp was speculating on what that statement meant. 

“Well, you all have decided to make this as messy as possible, haven’t you?” High Justice Questa mused to the room, interrupting all the side conversations. “Alright, this is what we’re going to do. I’m calling a recess until tomorrow at 9 am to allow the prosecution time to produce the Walkers. No statements, no hearsay, no speculation, they will be here in my court. If they are not present, sanctions will be issued, and the standing of their house and titles will be subject to review.

“As for the matter of Queen-Regent Bridget’s regent, that will be decided with or without their input at that time. If they are not produced, Mr. Rys will make the determination on his own. However, I would urge Mr. Rys to reconsider his choices for that role, because based on the reaction to the names you provided from the defense desk, I envision yet another summoning of the Conventus Nobilis if either of them get installed as regent. And if you think I’m impatient now, you do not want to see me if I am forced to preside over another emergency hearing.”

She paused for a moment, giving both desks intense, meaningful stares before continuing to issue her decision. 

“Now, as we are currently left with no clear agent to act as monarch, I will defer to several old Cordonian statutes. First, a king or queen who is too young to rule will be overseen by a regent who is the next in line for the throne over the age of majority, unless otherwise specified. Given that the Walkers are not eligible anymore due to the vote of no confidence, we will proceed through succession. Seeing as Mr. Rys is the last in his family line and our new queen-regent obviously has no heirs, based on the foundational statutes, Cordonia would revert to Nevrakis rule. Good news is the head of House Nevrakis is here and now knows she’s Queen-Regent for the next handful of hours. This is a provisional appointment only, as it is customary to allow a few days to establish a regency, and a new regent is set to be named tomorrow, so the powers of the monarch will only be enacted in emergency situations. Is that clear?” she asked, staring past Liam to where Oliva was seated.

“Yes, Your Honor.” Liam heard Olivia say from behind him, loud and clear even without a microphone. Olivia gaining power was an obvious victory today, but only a temporary one. If they attempted to leave her in power, Barthelmey would undoubtedly call for another vote from the Conventus Nobilis.

Upon hearing her response, Questa turned slightly towards the defense desk. Barthelemy was clearly fuming, but she continued speaking before that legal team could get a word out. “And before you get all outraged, Charles, I would encourage you to use this as motivation to urge your client to strongly consider letting the regent presented tomorrow stand instead of challenging yet another leader. Because the longer it takes for these two parties to reach an agreement, the longer she-” High Justice Questa said as she gestured to Olivia “-retains provisional powers of the monarch, something I’m guessing your client does not desire. Is everyone clear of my expectations?”

Murmurs of assent came from both desks, following which Questa gave a curt nod and tapped her gavel, bringing the hearing to a close for the day. Liam rose to watch her leave. He had now officially lost the right to stay seated. Oddly, he felt almost numb about that fact. There were so many other things happening that required his attention. 

He was expected to bring Drake and Riley to court tomorrow, and he was fairly certain that would not be a task that was possible for him to complete. This meant he needed to find another possible regent, one that Barthelemy and his allies would not attempt to remove from the throne but who would also be unlikely to bend to Barthelemy’s whims and schemes. Realistically, he needed to figure out Barthelemy’s endgame here. It would help him better plan for his next steps, including a bid to retake the throne at the Conclave, and if he was lucky, in the short term, it might even help him determine someone to suggest as regent who would be willing to show leniency to Drake and Riley. Allow him the chance to convince them to return to Cordonia, although the fact that Bridget was now the queen-regent did complicate matters more.

He saw Barthelemy approaching him, but Diana stopped him. “I’m sorry, but since this hearing is still pending, I’ve advised my client to not speak to you directly at this time.”

He let out a little huff, but went to rejoin his lawyers, allowing Liam to turn to Olivia, Hana, Maxwell, and Bertrand, all huddled in a little cluster behind him. 

“How are you, Liam?” Hana asked, patting his shoulder gently with her hand, her eyes full of concern and worry.

“It is all a lot to process at the moment, but today could have gone worse, I suppose,” Liam responded, trying to keep his voice calm. Any emotional response on his part needed to wait until they were someplace private. “I guess we need to find a place to reconvene now that the palace is no longer an option.”

Olivia frowned, “Who says it’s not an option? If I’m the provisional regent, I think we can easily return for tonight.”

“Are the optics of that wise? I wouldn’t want it to look like you were abusing the temporary powers Questa granted you.”

She just shrugged. “I honestly don’t care. They can’t touch me in any way that matters, and it’s not like I’ll be making a bid during the Conclave since I’ll be sponsoring you.”

Her nonchalant statement gave Liam pause. Although the Rys lineage could be traced back for hundreds of years, House Rys wasn’t one of the five major houses and therefore could not put up a candidate. He hoped she was comfortable with that offer and didn’t resent him for taking away her chance to be queen. The tone of her voice was just so matter-of-fact and resigned, and it made Liam wonder. But for now, he needed to focus on the short term, not the long term.

“I suppose it might be nice to clean out my office,” he said, soft enough that he was sure no one but the people right next to him could hear. The last thing he needed was Barthelemy to somehow get his hands on all sorts of official documents and start combing through them.

Olivia gave him a crisp nod of agreement before spinning to face Maxwell and Bertrand. “Alright you two - Ramsford first. Bertrand, repeat after me, ‘Documents detailing my father’s incompetence are more important than heirloom cutlery.’”

“Lady Olivia, I hardly-”

“It’s now ‘Your Regency, Bertrand,” she said, throwing in a little wink and chuckle as Bertrand started to sputter out apologies. “Seriously though. Maxwell, you need to keep him focused. Preventing your father from gaining control of House Beaumont is imperative.

“After you’re done at Ramsford, head to Lythikos. Now, Maxwell, repeat after me. ‘Literally anything I want to touch will probably maim or kill me, so I will touch nothing but my pillow.’ Bertrand, I’m counting on you from stopping him from causing serious bodily harm to himself or others.”

After the brothers expressed their agreement and left the courtroom, Liam noticed Olivia and Hana shooting glances towards each other. There was no one left in the room but Diana and the junior attorney with her today, Nicolas, so whatever they were silently communicating must be something that they wanted to keep from the legal team.

“Diana, Nicolas, we are meeting back at the palace. We can probably use the monarch’s office for tonight. But starting tomorrow, we will likely be relocating-” he glanced at Olivia, who nodded deeply “-to Lythikos. If you two wouldn’t mind heading back to the palace and determining who on the team is still willing to serve as my legal counsel now that I am no longer king, that would be a helpful next step. Say we meet up again in one hour?”

The lawyers agreed to the plan, leaving Liam alone with Olivia and Hana. “Alright, what couldn’t you bring up until they left?”

Hana passed him a sheet of paper. On it were two phone numbers, written in perfect cursive.

“What’s this?”

“Since you no longer are king, we thought maybe you would not want to be left in the dark anymore.”

It only took him a second to realize what Hana was saying and what the phone numbers implied.

“They got burner phones?”

Olivia let out a little sigh. “Yup. And if you want to talk to them, our next step should be getting you one, too.”

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl​   @riley--walker​  @bebepac​ @ravenpuff02​ @oofchoices​ @octobereighth​ @drakewalker04​ @kimmiedoo5​  @mfackenthal​  @thequeenofcronuts​  

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Fight or Flight: @masterofbluff​ @burnsoslow​ @bobasheebaby​ @shz256​ @iaminlovewithtrr​​

[powerovernothing]

A winter's wind blows over rooftops, and the surrounding walls of the city of Bruma, and a fresh layer of snow slowly falls over the mountain peaks, and steadily blankets the dirt roads leading into the nearest forests, and upwards towards the temple of Cloud Ruler. And within the protective, hidden walls of one of the Blades oldest fortresses in the province of Cyrodiil, Lucien Lachance can easily feel the growing tension swirling in the air around him, even before it dares to come and darken his doorstep. From where he sits at his desk within his quarters upon the highest level of the temple, he can easily hear the distressing commotion brewing just beneath his feet. He is able to make out the heated words being spoken; the hushed, awkward apologies when a lull finally takes place, and the uncomfortable sighs as one party leaves the room below, and the sound of approaching -- stomping -- footfalls reach his ears, and then pass by his sliding door.

Lowering his quill over his, only partially completed, assignment report, he leans back into his chair and lets out a heavy sigh of his very own.

He had assumed, once he learned of his Silencer's valiant return with the supposed golden armor of Tiber Septim -- or whatever senseless nonsense Jauffre and the Blades prattled on about that he had barely paid any amount of heed to -- that Martin would surely usher Korbin from the main hall, and then tend to any and all injuries he may have sustained during such a difficult journey.

But to be able to clearly hear both of his younger siblings argue with one another from an entire floor above and know that a considerable strain was being formed as he sat and merely did nothing... it was utterly strange to his ears. Strange, and incredibly off putting.

Out of all of them within their chosen family, it was his Silencer and his Light Brother that were the ones who rarely came at odds with each other.

But of course, considering the lives they led, and their given places in the ongoing Crisis, there were bound to be instances where one would disagree with the other, or the occasional moments of wounded pride... but to know that they were actively arguing, and one had now stepped away to place distance between the other... he knew very well that he needed to act.

That he had to do something to end this madness before it was allowed to continue, or worse yet, before it somehow escalated into something far more unbearable.

Rising from his seat, he quickly makes his way out of the room and into the hallway, just in time to see the back of Martin's robing as he disappears into his own chambers and shuts the door behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, curious to know whether or not the youngest would soon to follow along after him to try and make amends for whatever it is that had happened, Lucien does not wait for a proper answer, and simply chooses to follow in Martin's shadow. To try and make sense of the situation they were now -- all three of them -- seemingly trapped within.

Reaching out, he carefully opens the door, and watches as Martin paces in place for several moments, rather oblivious to his presence, and then ultimately settles upon the surface of his bed with a deep groan.

Only when he has quieted, does Lucien dare to breech the silence. "...Is there something you wish to discuss, Septim?" He asks carefully, keeping his voice low and even. "If there is something on your mind, you very well that I am here to listen -- if you shall only let me."

Martin looks up suddenly at his voice, and yet when he realizes that it is only Lucien that has followed after him, he relaxes ever so slightly. Yet even still, the Assassin can clearly see the obvious signs of fatigue, as well as frustration etched deeply over his features.

Martin slowly shakes his head to Lucien's questioning, not at all aware of the fact that concern has spread over his own -- something of which Lucien is quite thankful of.

"No, there is nothing that I wish to discuss, not truly," Martin replies in a somewhat breathless whisper; his hands clutched tightly into white knuckled fists. "It is merely the..."

"--The state of Korbin's injuries that is troubling you?" Lucien interjects; finishing Martin's unspoken thoughts for him from where he had trailed off halfheartedly. "Admittedly, I saw very little before you all but commanded Korbin to march to his room... but from what I did, I do not believe his wounds were at all a cause for great concern. Especially not within your own capable healing hands."

"It is not merely the matter of Korbin being hurt, Lucien," Martin says with a shrug as he pulls himself up from his bedside and returns to his prior pacing as he seeks to somehow make his brother understand. "While yes, it is indeed partially to blame for my current state of being, it is more so everything else that has happened that is causing me such grief."

Lucien raises an eyebrow to his words. "Everything else?" He repeats curiously. Making his way into the room at last, he holds out his hands to Martin, and considers whether he should allow his brother to continue pacing about almost unending, or simply force him to stop in place and actually focus.

"Whatever do you mean by that?"

In the end, Lucien does not have a chance to make either choice, as Martin comes to stop in the middle of the room himself.

"...Would you not rather see how Korbin is fairing, Lucien?" Martin mutters through a quiet, almost saddened whisper that catches Lucien by surprise; his face intentionally hidden from his brother as he speaks. "After all, I am certain he would value your presence at his side, and it would be far better use of your time than simply staying here, and listening to my irrational ramblings..."

Lucien lightly scoffs and walks forward to place a gentle hand over Martin's shoulder. "You know very well that I would not have asked if something was amiss, if I did not wish to ease the weight upon your shoulders," He tells him with a faint grin over his lips, and waits until Martin actively turns to glance at him, before speaking once more.

"Thus, with that in mind, I do believe you should take this opportunity to explain to me what it is that seems to be frustrating you so"--Lucien turns on his heel, and points a finger as sets upon the edge of the bed where Martin once was--"And I do hope you shall be nothing but completely honest, and spare no details from me."

Martin watches as Lucien leaves his side and takes his place on the bed. As he does, Martin's shoulders slump, and he runs a heavy hand over his face with a grumbled breath.

"...By the Divines themselves, I do not know where to even begin..."

"I believe you have already answered your own question, Martin. Begin, of course, with the beginning, so that I may understand the source of such emotion and hope to somehow spare you any further irritation."

Martin barks an almost bitter laugh in response. "As such such a thing is so easy!" Another sigh then escapes him, and a hand rises to rub over his temple. "...But, very well. Perhaps the source of all of this is because of the mere fact that, time and again, our brother willingly ventures out on these precarious, even life-threatening assignments, and denies -- or even outright refuses -- aid of any kind!"

Lucien watches as Martin fumes -- and quite literally at that, as the Assassin notices genuine smoke beginning to rise off the Septim Heir's shoulders the more he loses himself to the call of his pent-up anger -- and chooses to remain respectfully silent.

Knowing all too well that near to anything that he sought to say in such a moment would only fuel his brother's blazing fire, instead of dousing it as Lucien would actually want. And so, he sits, and waits, and listens, and simply hopes that such flames will dissipate with time as Martin continues to work through his ire.

"You know as well as I that he all but forbids you, of all people, from accompanying him," Martin explains as he circles around the bed, and back again several times in a row. "Somehow under the foolish assumption that you would be better suited at my side, protecting me from every known threat than at his own in the field of battle!"

He pauses, and then turns to speak to Lucien directly as a deep red flush in his cheeks. "Does he not realize that here, in the Bruma mountains, I am at my safest? What possible threat is there to be concerned over, other than a scratch occurring in training, or falling asleep at my desk at strange hours of the night due to research?" A familiar sadness overtakes his words. "What truly frightens him so that we could not somehow face it together?"

Lucien sighs, as he listens intently to every word that Martin speaks, and slowly comes to the realization that not only is what he is saying undoubtedly the truth -- as his Silencer had indeed acted in such a way in regards to the self-proclaimed 'solo missions' that he had taken upon himself even before this hunt for some sort of 'holy relic of Septim's long past', and been a cause of great concern every time he all but slammed the door in his face on his way out of the temple in a near frantic rush -- but that he also readily agrees with every word just as well.

There had been countless times that Korbin's obvious lack of self-preservation had made his heart ache with deep pain whensoever he teetered on the edge of death itself upon coming back to their makeshift home, and while he knew very well that Martin surely felt the same at the unimaginable thought of losing Korbin -- especially to this damnable Crisis -- he would have never realized that his brother's emotions would have ran so deep, or felt so incredibly similar to his own thoughts on the matter.

"And to see him return to us... bruised, battered, and half alive," Martin continues on; resisting the growing urge to reach for his locks of auburn hair, and run his fingers through it as his emotions rage. "And worse yet! Knowing that he shall always play off such horrific injuries with an ill-timed joke, as if his suffering does not matter..."

Lucien watches as Martin wraps his arms around himself. "As if, somehow, he himself, matters so much less than the task at hand. That he believes the supposed mission is the only thing that is truly important... not at all understanding that each time he does such a thing, each time that he believes as much... that it slowly breaks us in two, and... and..."

As Martin words trail, and his feelings threaten to engulf him completely, Lucien slowly reaches out and grasps his closest hand in an attempt to ground him, and comfort his brother somehow...and yet, even despite the open show of affection, Martin backs away from his offered touch, and willingly succumbs to the overpowering waves surrounding his heart.

"And that is not what destroys me the most out of all of this," He manages through a painful breath; tears filling in the corners of his eyes. "It is in the understanding that makes this so utterly unbearable. Realizing that the only reason he does this... that he does any of this -- putting himself at risk, braving the depths of the worst Oblivion has to offer to the world, shrugging off every wound with a lighthearted smile, and reassurance that he should not even be speaking, when it is us that should be comforting him in such an aftermath -- is because--"

"--Because you require numerous items so that you might finally translates that deplorable Daedric book you keep within your possession, and open the Portal to those Mythic Dawn bastard's Paradise," Lucien suddenly interrupts; speaking for the first time he placed himself upon the bed, and catching Martin considerably off guard in the process.

"Is that not what you were just about to say, my brother?" He prompts somewhat carefully. "That what makes this hardest is knowing that Korbin is, essentially, doing all of this on your behalf? That he persists despite the obvious risk to his life, that he dares to venture into those fiery depths, time and again, paying no need to our worried outcries, and simply follows your every task with a smile... because he knows how important this crusade is to you, as well as how important ending the Crisis is for us, and many others?"

Lucien pauses as his words hang in the air, and then softens his tone of voice. "Is that, truly, what is bothering you the most out of all of this?"

The air in the room falls stagnant as Lucien speaks his peace. The only sound to be heard being the occasional breaths from either of the brothers, and the familiar thumping of approaching footsteps. At such a noise, Lucien grimaces inwardly; knowing that any interruptions at this point would do just as much damage as if he had thought to speak up before Martin reached the conclusion to all his rambling.

It would only cause more damage, and possibly even throw Martin further into his own fragile mind, and Lucien genuinely worries for his Light Brother's wellbeing if such a thing were to come to pass.

And yet, before he has an opportunity to prepare an angry, furious string of words for whatever nonsense Jauffre or his foolish Blades would want from Martin -- now, of all Sithis-cursed times -- it is, in fact, Martin's own voice that pulls him from his thoughts, and back into the moment at hand.

"...You are right; you are absolutely right," He says; answering Lucien's previous question. His words are spoken quietly at first, and Lucien opens his mouth to soothe him, but is soon silenced as Martin's voice shifts, and his words turn to almost frantic shouting.

"That is what makes this so hard, and by the grace of Akatosh, if there was some other way -- any other way, so that he might simply remain safe, without willingly following my word without question, without daring to dance with death with every battle fought with the Mythic Dawn and Oblivion itself, without any of this nightmare resting upon our shoulders every time he leaves our side -- then you know I would do it in less than a single heartbeat!"

Martin gestures wildly as tears begin to spill down his cheeks. "Because knowing that I am the one sending him out into danger, knowing that I am putting him at risk at all... you simply do not understand the sheer extent of the horrors I face in my own mind, as I mull over every possible what if, Lucien!"

"Oh, my dear brother, I do understand," Lucien explains to him, grasping onto the brief silence and readily filling it as Martin reaches to wipe at the tears in his eyes. "I understand more than you might realize, for such unbelievable horrors linger within my own mind every moment that passes by and he has not returned to me from some task I appointed to him just as well."

"Then you surely know how often I am brought to my knees by the endless wondering!"  Martin cries out; his fingers intertwining together, as his hands tremble. "Wondering just how much more he is capable of enduring until it becomes too much for his body and spirit to bear! Terrified in wondering if the very next time I ask of him something, even the simplest, most innocent task, he is too gravely injured for me to save his life before he fades completely. Or, the one thing that utterly shatters me, the thought of him not returning at all, and having to live with the heartbreaking guilt in knowing that I sent my very own little brother to his dea --"

Martin’s words are suddenly cut off, as he begins to waver slightly on his feet partway through his unfinished, near hysterical screaming. And in that same instant, Lucien is quickly at his side; attempting to keep him from stumbling down to the hardwood floor below them in a collective heap.

"By the Dread Father himself, Martin! Are you all right?!" Lucien hisses; one hand around Martin's shoulders, as the other latches tightly onto his nearest wrist. "Come here and sit at once, before you collapse."

Martin shakes his head in response; trying -- to absolutely no avail -- to somehow pry himself out of Lucien's iron-clad grip. "N-No... no, brother, I am--" He struggles to explain; his face paling from the mere effort of speaking. "I am... all right. I simply--"

"Do not think to lie to me, Septim," Lucien warns through a harsh whisper, as he leads him back to the bedside. "I have never witnessed you in such a state, and if your health is being compromised in the same way as Korbin's, then you shall--"

"--If you simply allow me to explain," Martin quickly, or as quickly as he can manage, interrupts Lucien’s words. Finally pulling himself free of his grasp at last and being rewarded with a furious glare in return. "Then I could tell you this is only the result of expending far too much power while healing our brother's wounds, and nothing more."

Lucien's glare turns to genuine bewilderment. "...What are you talking about?" He asks; only to then growl under his breath as he, once again, hears the sound of approaching footfalls edging just outside Martin's door... that soon shifts to worry as he comes to recognize such familiar steps, and realizes that they did not belong to neither Blade nor Grandmaster.

A bead of sweat falls down his face, and he quickly flickers a look of concern towards Martin. In the hopes that he would somehow notice and stop himself before speaking anything further.

Unfortunately, it goes completely unseen. "Such a thing is actually quite the common occurrence whenever I choose to summon forth my inner Light to heal Korbin of his injuries, Lucien," Martin begins to explain; blissfully unaware of Lucien's sudden change, or the sound directly behind him.

"Especially so when they are as grave as the ones he earned after returning from the excursion within Sancre Tor. It is a considerably draining feat, and one of the many reasons why you have not seen me like this before now -- as I do my very best to shield if from your eyes, as well as his -- and why I speak truly when I say that it is no cause for any concern."

"Ma-Martin, that is quite enough..." Lucien struggles to halt Martin's unneeded explanation; desperate to stop him before he can say the wrong word that the wrong ears may hear by mistake, and cause an already impossibly difficult situation to obtain irrefutable damage on top of everything else. "I... do believe that you should--"

And yet, much like his concerned look, his pleading falls completely upon deaf ears as Martin feels determined to soothe -- what he simply believes to be -- Lucien's worry for his own wellbeing.

"I realize this can be quite shocking at first, but it is really nothing to trouble yourself with," He says with a faint smile. "As you can so clearly see, I am already feeling far better, and the only reason you saw me in such a state to begin with is because caring for Korbin in moments such as this... well, it can be so incredibly tiring at times."

The sudden sound of a harsh slap resounds and echoes throughout the room as Lucien's palm connects painfully with his forehead upon hearing what it is that Martin so foolishly chose to say -- in this moment, of all possible moments -- and acting as though he had somehow accomplished a good deed in the process.

Breathing through his frustration, he runs a careful a hand over his face in an attempt to compose himself, but when his eyes open and he notices the one who now stands in the frame of the sliding door... his prior frustration at Martin's sheer ignorance becomes a more genuine rage.

"...Martin, you absolute imbecile!" Lucien cries out; allowing himself to fall into his own waves of anger and caring very little for what Martin may think of what he speaks, or how. "You would do well to silence yourself at once, before you say anything more that would destroy--"

"--Silence myself?" Martin repeats as confusion overtakes his eyes. "Why do you wish for me to be silent, now of all times? Did you not ask me to be honest with you from the very beginning? To hide nothing so that you might somehow ease the burden from my shoulders? And that is precisely what I have been doing! Explaining to you everything that I feel, as well as attempting to reassure you so that you will not worry about my wellbeing as you would Korbin's!"

"Yes, Martin, I realize that, and I did indeed ask of you to say all of that and more, yet--"

"--And now, somehow, you are upset with the words that I am telling you?" Martin promptly cuts Lucien off before he can complete his sentence. "To the point that you wish for me to... what? Simply stand around, and do nothing? To say nothing?"

He crosses his arms over his chest, and sighs deeply. "Lachance, please... I know this evening has been difficult for all of us, but you must somehow make up your mind, and explain to me what it is you actually want, as I surely have no possible idea what--"

One of Lucien's hands come to cup over Martin's lips, and a deep red blaze in the Assassin's dark gaze. "Dammit, Septim, that is not at all the point here!" He shouts; attempting to pull Martin away from the door, and back towards the bed. "It is not as though I wish for you to be silent in regards to what you are feeling on the matter which came before, it is simply that you have lost yourself to your own uncontrollable emotions, and you do not realize the extent of the damage you are doing because of them!"

"Uncontrollable emotions?!" Martin quickly pulls out of Lucien's grasp; stumbling slightly and staring at him with a flash of hurt. "So now my emotions are somehow uncontrollable? I thought you wished to help me, brother! That you wished to know the reason why I was so upset with what transpired between myself and Korbin. Why I was brought close to my limit with the choices he made while locating the armor of Tiber Septim! Yet, now you have begun to personally insult me for how I am feeling?!"

Lucien claps his hands together, and his words return to their desperate tone of voice. "Martin, you do not understand!" He exclaims almost frantically. "If for once in your life, you will only listen to me when I am speaking to you, then you will surely come to realize--"

"I will realize what, Lucien!? That I will come to realize what?!"

Lucien sighs deeply, somewhat saddened, and sidesteps away from Martin; gesturing towards the open door. "...That you would then come to realize that we are, in fact, not alone."

Martin pauses at Lucien's strangely emotional words, hardly expecting such a thing after his show of remarkable anger, and slowly adjusts his gaze to where he had gestured over his shoulder.

Mentally wondering to himself just what in all of the Divines themselves his brother may have have meant by not being alone, and if one of the Blades had somehow rushed into the room in the midst of their heated argument. Fearful for their lives at the noise that they may have heard in passing, and suddenly feels as though he was pierced in the chest by a barbed weapon when he finds himself staring -- not into the eyes of a friendly Blade, or even Jauffre himself -- but into a pair of familiar golden eyes instead.

His stomach twists, a wave of nausea threatening to overtake his every sense, and he quickly spins on his heel... only to see Korbin standing in the middle of his door, looking as though he, too, had been pierced by the very same metaphorical weapon, but so much more deeply.

Martin can see his shoulders beginning to tremble, he can see him fighting off the urge to raise his hands over his shoulders, or even to bury them underneath his grey locks, and his eyes... dear Akatosh, his eyes. The eyes that would normally hold a playful innocence, look at Martin with deep betrayal as their natural light dulls to nothingness.

As though every possible fear his younger brother may have had, may have carried throughout the course of their time knowing one another... had suddenly, and horrifically came true in one single instant.

And he looks so much older than Martin knows him then. He looks as though he had aged ten years within the span of several seconds, and the strength in Martin's knees begin to give away as he backs up against Lucien to try and keep himself from crumbling.

The color drains from his face as he realizes what it is that Korbin may have heard as he came to locate him, what he may have thought as he bore witness to his own screaming, frustrated remarks, and how he may have taken it without knowing that he surely did not mean it.

But he said the words, he spoke them candidly -- to Lucien, of all people, instead of Korbin himself -- and he feels as though he is no more than three inches tall underneath his brother's broken expression.

"Kor-Korbin, I--" Martin begins to say; stammering considerably as he tries to find the words need, the strength needed. And yet, underneath those faded, almost emptied eyes of his brother, he feels himself incapable of speaking anything more than merely the most foolish of question. "H-How long... how long have you... have you been standing... there?"

"Oh, quite long enough it seems," Korbin says after a moment of extended silence; his words just unemotional and as dull as his eyes. "You see, I was actually coming to speak with you. To try and apologize for all the worry that I caused because of my recklessness, as well as everything that led to you leaving my side in a huff after you healed my wounds... but I can so plainly see that it was obviously a waste of my time."

Martin shakes his head as tears begin to fill in his eyes and blur his vision. "No, no, Korbin... little brother, lis-listen to me..."

"I never actually realized that caring for me was, in fact, such an incredible weight upon your shoulders, Martin," Korbin tells him with a saddened smile, and the faintest of chuckles escaping past his lips.

"But I should have, shouldn't I? After all, I knew too well that you often worried -- to the point of breaking -- whenever I ventured out on missions for you, or for Lucien, and then subsequently returned to the temple injured in a way that you were not prepared for... but I would have never thought, would have never even guessed that your grievances truly ran so deep..."

"Korbin, no, you don't -- you don't understand, I didn't mean it like that, I didn't mean it at all, I just..." Martin moves forward, extending his hand out to Korbin in an attempt to latch onto him, to try and comfort him, to help him to understand.

But the youngest among them simply backs away, as his smile spreads more painfully over his lips.

"Well then, if that is truly how you feel about the situation," Korbin says to Martin; seemingly unfazed by his words, or perhaps simply no longer caring. "How you feel about me, then I will be certain to do whatever is within my power to spare you of any further burden regarding myself and my wellbeing in the future."

Korbin then turns on his heel, leaving Martin's room, and making his way down the stairs that connects to the rest of the temple. In the very instant he is gone, completely out of view of both elder brothers, Martin feels as though his heart is shattering into a thousand pieces at his feet, and as though he surely has made the worst possible mistake of his entire thirty seven years of life.

And Lucien feels very much the same. "...Do you see now why I attempted to silence you before you dug yourself into an even dipper grave than you already were in?"

"But I didn't... that isn't what I meant, I simply-- " Martin continues to stammer pitifully as his words remain fragmented, and incomplete; after a moment, he shakes his head, and turns to look at the Assassin with a deep level of remorse in his tear stained eyes. "Lucien, you know... you know that I would never--"

"Yes, I realize that," Lucien sighs deeply; pressing a hand to Martin's shoulder. "But Korbin does not, and that is why you must rectify your terrible mistake at once."

"But... but how? What should I... what should I do to even begin to repair this?"

"Chase him before he leaves the temple grounds," Lucien explains simply. "For, if I know my Silencer well enough, that is exactly what he is in the process of doing whilst we merely linger in place. Attempting to put as much distance between himself and you as he possibly is able. Thus, you must find him, stop him, and allow him to know what you actually meant by your words in whatever way you deem most appropriate."

He pulls his hand away, and then gestures towards the door once more. "And it would be best if you hurried."

=====

Rushing out of the double doors of Cloud Ruler, Korbin makes his way towards the main gates of the temple that connects with the nearest mountain surrounding the Bruma forests. With every step forward, it is accompanied with an equally pained groan as his hands ball themselves into fists, and slam into the sides of his head.

Tears sting painfully in his eyes, and he pulls lightly on his hair as he descends past the courtyard and towards the first of two stone staircases; all the while seemingly blaming himself for what transpired, for what happened, as he mutters harshly under his breath.

"For the love of Sithis himself, I know, I know!" Korbin then shouts to the snow and the wind surrounding him; fully unaware of Martin’s presence at his heels, or the words that the Septim Heir speaks in an attempt to gain his brother’s attention somehow. "I know I should have realized something like this would happen eventually! I know I should have prepared myself for it! I know it shouldn't surprise me, considering everything that I’ve done! Just shut up, just bloody shut up! I don't need you to rub it in, and somehow make it worse!"

"Korbin!" Comes Martin’s voice at his back; and as Korbin begins to still, coming to stand momentarily in place -- once more pulling at his hair, and nearly ripping out strands of it as he continues to whisper angry words to himself -- Martin takes the given opportunity to finally close the distance between them as he reaches out to grab a fistful of his brother’s armor. "Korbin, please! You must stop trying to avoid me! Stop trying to leave my side, and simply listen for one single instance as I explain myself!"

Korbin pulls away from Martin’s touch, and from it he feels a wave of anger -- at himself, not at Korbin, absolutely not at Korbin -- for failing to pull him closer to his side, or into his arms, or even so much as getting him to turn around and face him directly.

"I know what you may be feeling," Martin explains carefully. "I know very well that you are undoubtedly upset, that you are angry, as well as hurt for what you heard me speak to Lucien so openly, but... but you aren't understanding the truth of the matter! The meaning behind my words, and that what you heard is not at all what you think, or what you may fear!"

Halfway down the remainder of the stone staircase, Korbin finally comes to a complete stop upon one of the lowest steps. Whatever attempts that he made to flee from both the temple and Martin had seemingly come to a sudden, and abrupt end. Whatever furious words that he spoke to himself, blamed himself over, had now been silenced by Martin’s own emotional outcry.

And after a moment of sheer nothingness but the sound of the chilling wind howling between them, Korbin finally speaks in a low, gruff whisper; his tone both fractured, and pained.

"Is anything that you have ever said to me... " He begins to say; his voice cracking slightly. "Anything that you ever told me in our most quiet of moments shared together... was any of it even remotely true? Or have you been lying from the very beginning?"

Martin blinks; taken aback. "...What?"

"You told me once that you cared about me, that you loved me as your sibling," Korbin turns around, and stares at Martin as tears quickly spill down his cheeks. "That I would never have to...have to second guess myself, because you always assured me that, no matter what came our why, no matter what may end up happening, I was always going to be worthy of your affection..."

Korbin allows his words to trail, and then laughs bitterly.

"Oh, do not tell me that you have somehow forgotten such sentimental claims?" He asks accusingly. "You told me after the failed mission with the spies nestled within the city, and yet... in the very moment you choose to leave my side, to speak privately to Lucien behind closed doors over what happened in the mission, of the mistakes I have deeply shamed you with... you readily admit that caring for me is incredibly tiring!"

"...Brother, no; that isn’t--"

"Meaning, obviously, that I am somehow a... a hassle? Or perhaps even a burden, if you prefer that word over the former?" Korbin walks closer; watching Martin backs up as he does. "So, tell me! What is really the truth, Septim?! Should I have even bothered becoming close with you, after all this time? Was it simply just a waste, when in reality you despised me all along?!"

Korbin’s voice raises in volume, as well as heartbreak; closing the distance between him and Martin and staring him down.

"What was the breaking point, I wonder? The fact that I am an Assassin? The way that I end lives as a chosen profession? The overwhelming bloodlust associated with it? Or perhaps it is the fact that a bastard heir of a dead Emperor cannot dare to be seen with a worthless heap abandoned upon the streets? Just admit it to my face, then!" He shoves Martin back, and his tears fall more heavily.

"If you truly hate me, then just say it directly instead of stating it in secret! Confirm every fear that I have always had, and I will leave your side for good!"

Martin stumbles from the force of Korbin's sudden push, and struggles to maintain both his physical, and mental balance. Uncertain if he should simply allow Korbin to work through his sorrow, his genuine pain over what he did, over what he caused without his intervention, or... if he should instead stand his ground against every false accusation that his brother throws angrily with an unflinching, uncharacteristic stoic expression, and only choose to speak once Korbin had successfully tired himself.

He does not have a chance to decide on either choice presented to him, for as collides into the nearest wall, a look of anger marred by a faint glow of gold shines in his eyes, and he loses control of himself -- for the third time that evening -- before his mind can tell him to simply be silent and not somehow make the same mistake twice.

"How, in the names of all the known Divines, could you possibly believe that I could ever hate you?!" Martin screams without realizing, and flinches when he hears how sharp his voice sounds in his own ears. He does not make an effort to quell his anger, even despite every part of him begging for him to understand that what he is doing could possibly push Korbin further away than he already was.

"How can you even stand in front of me and think there would ever come a time where I would somehow see you in any other way than I always have?! Do you not realize the extent of your own worth in my eyes?! Do you not understand just how much I care for you, and how..."

Martin looks away from Korbin for a moment and struggles desperately to collect his thoughts. Tears fill in his eyes just as they once had, he feels his throat tightening from the words that go temporarily unspoken, and throughout it all... Korbin only watches him with a careful gaze.

Uncertain how to feel about what is now happening around him, uncertain where all of these frantic words are going, and if it will somehow end up as it had before. Part of him wants to turn around and be ignorant. To pretend he does not hear anything that Martin is saying. That nothing he would say would make this right, and yet still he continues to remain in place.

He doesn't know if he is simply waiting for the moment for Martin to set aside all the lies, all the anger, and simply admit -- once and for all -- that he does indeed hate him, or if he is waiting for him to finish so that they can might say their final goodbyes to one another.

With a shake of his head, and a quiet laugh, he goes to open his mouth -- to tell Martin to hurry up and get this over with -- and when he does... he sees the hurt in his brother's eyes. The very same hurt that he wore when he realized that he had been listening to his hidden truth in the hallway all along, and that only triples Korbin's confusion.

Martin moves closer and touches a hand to Korbin's shoulder. "...Do you truly not realize how thankful I am for you? For being in my life, and for... genuinely saving me?" Korbin opens his mouth to speak, to accuse him of deceit, but Martin quickly hushes him.

"Korbin... you came into my life in the very moment in which I lost faith of everything I once sought to understand. When you and Lachance stood before me in that ruined chapel in Kvatch, you... you smiled at me, told me that you were there to save my life, and... I could have never understood just how truthful such words would actually become."

"...All I did was pull you out of rubble, and close a Gate of Oblivion, I didn't--"

"You did far more than you could have ever realized. Not only did you save me from the hordes of Oblivion itself, but you..." Martin's words catch in his throat, and he swallows heavily. If there was a time to be overwhelmed, and to try and hide away... it was surely not this moment. Not now. Not when he was so desperate to make Korbin understand.

Breathing in, he continues on. "You gave me purpose. You gave me a genuine reason to keep going, to keep fighting, to search for the light of a new dawn -- when everything would be all right -- when everything up until such a point told me to simply lay down and accept what had happened. That I had failed, that the Divines themselves abandoned me, that I lost everything that I cared for once again... and yet, you pulled me up. You brought me out of the darkness of my own mind, and in return..."

Korbin shakes his head; adverting his gaze and looking at every other possible thing instead of Martin’s face. "...Martin, stop. It’s all right, and you don’t have to keep--"

"--And in return... you wanted nothing more than friendship, kinship," Martin laughs tearfully as a smile spreads over his lips; not at all allowing Korbin to somehow believe the doubt that was steadily creeping deeper into his mind. "You took me aside, you called me brother, when you hardly had any reason to do so. You did not know me, not truly; you did not know of my past, or the things I had done, the people I had lost, and yet it surely did not matter in your eyes... because through it all, you still stood beside me. You still protected me. Against the Daedra, against myself..."

He sighs and places his hand against Korbin's cheek. "And yet, somehow... you truly have the gall to believe that I... could ever hate you?"

"But I heard you," Korbin explains through a whisper; pulling back from Martin's touch, and finally finding the courage to look at him. "...I heard what you said to Lachance about me. Over how caring for me was tiring, that it was an incredibly draining feat, that you had to hide your frustrations, and I was --"

"Oh, my dearest brother," Martin interjects softly; effectively cutting Korbin off before he has a chance to suffocate within his own self-loathing. "You misheard me. You misunderstood my words completely. As I only meant that it was tiring to use such powerful healing spells on your numerous injuries. That the use of my inner Light was what was draining, and I hid it from Lucien’s eyes to spare him of the worry he would have seeing me in such a state."

And then it is Korbin's eyes that widen, and blink in surprise to what he is hearing. "...Wa-Wait... what...?"

"It was not that you, yourself, was tiring, Korbin. For I would never think that towards you. Not even with my dying breath," Martin runs a hand through Korbin's messy grey locks. "You spoke of our conversation when you were ambushed by Mankar Camoran's spies upon the journey back to Cloud Ruler Temple, and yet it seems as though you failed to remember the strain such healing had on my body at the time."

He watches a frown touch Korbin’s lips as he struggles to think back. "I can easily understand how you would assume my words to be something born of the darkest nightmares that plague you during the longest nights," He tells him; his voice somewhat cautious as he treads over a difficult subject. "But I swear to you... that is all I meant by what I said. That such spell casting was deeply tiring and caused my body to be drained. Nothing more than that; I give you my absolute word."

Korbin remains silent for an extended moment. Still looking at his brother with genuine shock. Martin takes such a sight as a means to continue on; smiling more softly, and slightly more playfully.

"However, you should know that, yes, it is indeed quite a trial to look after you, time and again. Especially when you are wounded so often, and so recklessly--"

"Aha! So, you do admit it! Meaning that part of your words held some manner of truth, after all!"

Martin sighs, and pulls Korbin into a sudden, tender embrace. "...Korbin, the only reason I say this at all, is because of what seeing you so close to death has on my own wellbeing." He presses a gentle kiss to the side of his head. "Do you not understand how much it pains me to even consider the thought of losing you? Of losing the one I so openly consider my beloved younger brother?"

"But you... I thought --" Korbin stammers; unable to piece together coherent words as he tries to make sense of everything Martin is telling him. He had thought that the conversation would go one way -- one terrible, awful way -- and yet, it went in a direction that he was not prepared for.

He is uncertain how to handle the genuine emotion, the genuine affection, and in the end, he simply buries himself into Martin's embrace, and allows himself to cry.

"Answer me honestly now, brother; please," Martin whispers into his ear, still holding him tightly in his arms. "Do you truly believe I could ever possibly hate you in any way? That I could ever come to view our time spent throughout these many long months anything other than a constant source of joy, and reassurance in my life?"

"...But you sounded so furious before."

"Frustrated; not furious," Martin corrects gently. "And that was only because when you first returned, and then collapsed in my arms with so many open wounds, I truly thought that you were mere moments away from fading completely. I thought that I was too late, and thus it took every amount of strength that I still had within me to keep myself together long enough to actually save your life."

Korbin slowly pulls back with a familiar frown. "...So, you were angry with the fact that I was injured, and not...actually with me overall?" He asks him nervously. "Even despite how you shouted me back into consciousness and then basically drug me up the stairs to my room by my ear?"

"Well yes; that is exactly what it was, Korbin, " Martin says with a faint laugh. "And I am sorry for shouting at you, although I’m certain you now know the reason why I did."

"I do, but... just to be sure. You don't -- actually hate me, or regret choosing to care for me in any way?" Korbin stares down at his feet as they shuffle against the snow caked along the surface of the stairs as the second question falls from his lips.

"...Is that what you truly fear coming to pass?" Martin paraphrases Lucien’s own words.

And Korbin slowly nods. "...Part of it, but there is so much more that I fear other than simply --" His words are cut off abruptly, as Martin moves in to wrap his arms tightly back around his brother in a show of reassurance as the chill of the cold continues to whip at their backs.

At the sudden touch, Korbin loses control of himself completely, and instantly clings onto his brother as though he is surely the only thing keeping him together in this ever changing, ever worrying, almost intolerable world that they live in.

"I promise you, there is not a single moment where you have been at my side that I have felt any regret over," Martin says after a moment; pulling back, and smiling. "You are my brother, Korbin; and I love you dearly. I could never even consider hating you, no matter what it is that you do in this life, or the next."

Korbin chuckles tiredly and gives Martin a half grin. The natural playfulness had returned only slightly, and yet it still contained everything that Martin knew all too well. He shakes his head in amusement, thankful for seeing even a hint of the brother that he knew and points a finger accusingly.

"However, that was not at all an open invitation to experiment with the limits of my patience, I will have you know."

Korbin's chuckling turns to genuine laughter at Martin's mischievous words -- those of which he would be more than excited to test when this day was over, and the anger had faded with the setting sun -- and he carefully wraps an arm around his brother as the two of them begin to make their way back up the stone stairs, and towards the main entrance to the temple where Lucien was waiting for them in the distance.

"Ah, you take the fun out of almost everything, Septim."

Once they catch Lucien's ever watchful gaze, and the Assassin greets them with a gentle smile -- obviously pleased with the outcome that both of his younger siblings were more than capable of finding on their own with only the slightest push in the proper direction by his own hands -- Martin suddenly sighs and leans more heavily within Korbin's half embrace.

Korbin turns his head at the sound, and Martin smiles. "Even after all this time, I truly do not understand how Lachance does it..."

"Does... what, exactly?" Korbin asks; eyebrow raised.

"Makes situations such as this look positively like child's play," Martin explains with a shake of his head. "Is there perhaps something that I have missed? Some clever word, or secret tome, or even some special power that would effectively grant to me the mastery that our brother has over these sorts of moments in our life together?"

Korbin laughs; sounding far more genuine than he had been in hours. "Well, I'm not quite sure, Martin!" He says with another grin. "I mean... yes, Lucien has quite the talent for moments like this; there is truly no doubt about that, but I don't think it has anything to do with some sort of magical power! It would make sense if there was, but I think..." His words trail slightly, and when Martin cranes his head to meet his gaze, Korbin’s grin then spreads from ear to ear. "Well, I simply believe that after so long, and how many times he has had to pull us both back from the darkest depths of ourselves, that it is just a natural talent brought on from a near endless amount of patience, and practice."

"Oh, is that so true?" Martin matches Korbin's laughter. "Well, here is another question, then! Do you believe that it would be possible to learn such a skill? Or that he could train me if I so asked?"

"Perhaps!" Korbin cheerfully replies; gesturing towards the open temple doors that Lucien had disappeared into once he witnessed them smiling and sharing a laugh. "And if you do, then perhaps you will end up honing such a skill far more easily than you have your numerous Assassin training!"

Martin's laughter fades to a low chuckle, reaching up and ruffling Korbin's hair as they walk into the temple together. "I shall have you know that such training is coming along swimmingly, and there have been quite many times where I have nearly caught Lucien completely by surprise with my ability in the art of stealth."

"Now I know that you are lying, Septim!" Korbin ducks under Martin's hand and rushes forward to escape his sudden onslaught of playfully unwanted affection. "You being able to get the jump on Lucien when I, myself, could never?! Nothing more than absolute lies!"

He waves a dismissive hand. "But regardless of such – oh-so obvious – lies, I do so wonder what is it we should call this brand-new training regimen for the both of you? Every good means of training should have a proper title, as you should surely know! Brother protection, perhaps? Korbin defense 101?"

"I'm quite fond of the latter myself, I do admit."

"Ah, as am I!" Korbin nods almost proudly. "Let us go and locate our wayward shadowy sibling at once and ask his opinion on such things!"

Martin smiles warmly. "After you, dear brother."

And as the familiar twinkling fully returns to Korbin’s eyes, he then quickly turns on his heel. Dashing away from the main hall and making his way towards the staircase leading to the higher rooms within the temple walls with a boyish laugh -- as well as a impish taunt in the hopes that Martin would willingly follow after him with similar speed in a sudden, impromptu game of chase to see who would be able to reach Lucien's room before the other.

Martin watches him go with a gentle, content chuckle at the absolutely wonderful sight before him. Signifying that things had returned to reality normalcy once again -- or rather to their own personal definition of such a word -- and then he slowly breathes in… before accepting his brother's given challenge and tailing along after him in all too pleased bliss.