#AND THUS WE ARE CATCHING BACK UP WITH THE UPDATES

[malewife-overlord]

Six Cycles Later -- Part IV

Summary: Invert frees her new ally from her life pod, only to learn just how a w f u l she is. Their alliance proves in trouble with the arrival of an Autobot.

Features the adorable oc of Starburst, provided by @callsign-relic! Check her and her stuff out sometime!

Prior chapter is here, start and explanation of six cycles later is here. Next chapter is here.

Word count: 5046

trigger warnings: robot racism, some gore, some self harm

Fic below cut!

“LET ME OUT!”

At the sound of the voice her spark leaped in its chamber. Invert grinned despite her prior grievances, the swamp and all of its horrors left behind. Though no one could see it, she raised an arm and waved. 

“I’m here! I hear you! I’m coming! Hold on!”

Water splashed around her pedes as she practically sprinted for the ship, concerns of an Autobot ambush cast aside as its dark entrance yawned. The buzzing grew in volume as she closed the distance, and though she was loath to fully disable her audials, she found she had no choice. Her helm was threatening to split from noise alone.

Whoever was in this ship had to be strong, she could feel it. She ran over her options again: Bombshell, Shrapnel, Kickback. Which had she decided was the most useful? Oh, whoever, she didn’t really care! Well, maybe she did a little, but truly, she’d be grateful just to have another ‘con around. Someone who was on her side. Someone who she could plan with and fight by. Even if they were, according to the data pack, a bit hard to get along with.

Oh well. She would top the pecking order in no time. They didn’t know what she was capable of, and they’d learn fast to respect her. 

The interior of the ship was larger than it seemed from the outside, as most Decepticon ships tended to be. The floor before her was completely underwater, its silver squares smothered by a thick layer of dark organic grime. The walls were colored purple, though their paint had long stripped. Water stains alongside long white streaks of organic substance decorated her surroundings. On the far right, where the front of the ship rested comfortably, the bridge sat in ruin. 

If she was a bit more concerned about escaping the planet, perhaps she would have been distressed by that fact. But Invert couldn’t have cared less at the moment, for her optics were focused on the barely glowing sign hanging above a broken door across from her. The Insecticon ship was small, with only a bridge, a large main area, and a side compartment for the med bay. Under most circumstances, that compartment was sealed, but the presence of the entrance told her all she needed to know about where to find her future friend. 

She left the bridge and the main area behind, taking a step down into the cramped quarters of the med bay. And there, bundled against the wall like a clutch of eggs, sat five stasis pods. 

Three were open. One was dark. And the last one—

It looked like it had been almost destroyed.

The metal was warped and bulged outwards. The glass was cracked and shards of it sparkled beneath the stagnant water. Deep gouges tore up the walls beside the pod. She could see scuff marks on the floor and what looked like burns on the ceiling. The display on the pod was glitching and barely functional, showcasing error codes and a single life signal. 

She furrowed her optical ridges, wondering just what had happened here to incur such damage. 

Well, it was of no major significance to her. Whatever had happened here had passed, and all it had left behind was an Insecticon soldier ready to burst forth and support his cause. Her audials indicated that the source of the buzzing, and logically, the screaming, was the pod. In fact…as she stepped closer, they displayed warnings: the sound being produced would cause damage if listened to at such range, even with muted audials, for elongated periods of time. 

He was strong. Sound based powers? She was reminded of Soundwave and his cassettes. Would this Insecticon also have something similar, then? But how would he–

Nope, not even thinking of it. That was gross organic stuff. She needed to focus on anything but the fact he was mimicking a filthy organic. Yes, all she needed to focus on was releasing him from the pod. 

Approaching it, she took additional note of the severe damage to the door–its seal was incomplete, which possibly indicated stasis failure. The dents on its middle pushed out in the molded shapes of angry fists. On the sides she could see the groove of hands where it had been gripped with enough force to bend in both ways. 

Claw marks on the wall, punches on the door, warping on the edges. Invert wasn’t stupid. Whoever—or whatever—had been forced into this pod had only done so after fighting for his life. 

Why?

She couldn’t see very well inside—though the shape of the Insecticon’s head was discernible, a layer of moisture had formed inside, obscuring his details from her sight. Was he battle damaged? Had he been frozen inside screaming?

Was that why the pod was buzzing so loudly?

She had no answers yet, but she could certainly assume that he was probably rusting in there, with all that water. She didn’t know his story in the slightest, or why he hadn’t been with the other Insecticons, but considering her circumstances, she didn’t have many options besides opening his pod. If she trusted her preservation instincts, which told her this was a terrible idea, she left behind her only potential ally left on this planet. Whatever circumstances had seen him trapped in his stasis pod were likely behind him. She’d just have to trust that he wasn’t as violent as the area around him seemed to indicate. 

Besides. Insecticons were unsavory on their best days, completely uncooperative on their worst. She was probably seeing the results of a spat between the four, soon to be three. 

Three. They’d really trapped one of their brethren in their ship and abandoned him for years. 

Scowling, Invert tapped the broken screen, trying to see if she could convince it to initiate release. 

It gave no such indication. She tapped again, trying to pull up any kind of menu. Besides more error messages, the screen gave no further function. 

“Come on!” She said aloud, giving the pod a kick. 

Whatever was inside reacted. She saw the head turn towards her. The sensation of optics locking onto her form creeped up her back.  

Invert’s spark tightened from both fear and excitement. Oh. He was awake. That meant…oh. That was why he’d been able to make the noise. He had been frozen screaming. The faulty seal had likely forced his body into stasis, but not his mind. 

LET ME O U T 

Her audials indicated they’d picked up on words. She ex-vented through her dentae. 

“Uh, hi!” She said, waving a hand. “Um, I’m Invert. I got your distress call! I’m here to get you out.”

The Insecticon did not move. 

“I’ll, uh, get on that, then. Do you have any idea how to open this pod? Any recommendations or tips? I’ve never been in this ship, so…”

Nothing. 

“Right, on my own again, gotcha.” She turned away and rolled her optics. 

Okay, if the pod didn’t want to behave because it was broken, she could force it. Grabbing the bent edge of the door, she planted a pede against the wall and pulled with all her might. Her joints creaked in protest, but the door didn’t budge in the slightest. 

Frowning, she searched around for a tool, coming back with a metal pipe found submerged at the back of the ship. Jamming it between the door and the pod’s edges, she braced herself against the wall and tried to forcibly pry the door open–only for the pipe to snap and fly across the room. 

Invert cursed and retrieved the blaster she’d brought with herself, pointing it at the seal. A purple glow illuminated the dark ship as she fired several blasts in, succeeding in adding more sear marks, but not breaking or melting the metal in the slightest. 

The door wasn’t budging. She scowled. Looking at the glass, she could see the Insecticon watching her, probably thinking about how pathetically this mass-produced, one-trick Seeker was failing to perform a single task.

Well, she’d damn well show him. Brute force wasn’t her style anyways. She had one trick that was sure to work, and prove that she was worth keeping around–and respecting. 

Oh, he’d damn well respect her, if he was already thinking so negatively about her. 

For Invert had a special ability, one that had kept her around despite how often she’d heard other ‘cons whispering about having her deactivated. It might be an ability that was difficult to use, incredibly dangerous on her best days, and ran the chance of killing her every time she used it, but it was hers. It set her apart from her Seeker brethren. It made her special. 

It made her worth keeping around. 

She stepped back from the pod and smirked. So far she’d only used her ability on other Cybertronians, but she saw no reason it wouldn’t work on their technology as well. It wasn’t like she’d been given time or items to test it on, when resources had already been so slim on Earth. This could serve as a beta test for it, probably. Though, she had to wonder…would it damage the Insecticon inside?

…Once again, she didn’t know. Didn’t really matter, probably–it would be the start of their pecking order. Her on the top, him keeping a distance at all times. 

“Hey, Insecticon?” She said, “I’m going to try and get you out. There might be some sparks, so try not to panic!” 

The Insecticon in the pod did not respond to her words or her movements. His head remained turned towards her. She could feel optics locking onto her, sizing up. Trying equally to determine if she was one to be kicked around.

The buzzing had stopped, her audials indicated. In its absence, the silence hung like the organic slime outside.

“Well, alright then.”

To use her ability, she’d have to mess with her T-Cog. It was always easier said than done. Her T-Cog was located in her side, as it was with all Seekers. All she had to do was plunge her servos through her plating and manually crank it. The plating on her side was intentionally thinner for this purpose, meaning any old blaster could deactivate her with a proper shot. And whether it was blaster fire or servos, thin plating did not change the fact that, no matter how her ability was activated, it would hurt.

Easier said than done. Always easier said than done. But she couldn’t show weakness now. They didn’t even know one another’s name, but the pecking had already begun, and she was not about to be on the bottom. 

Invert hovered her servos over her side, ex-venting again. She hadn’t used her ability since before the attack on Autobot City. Only once had she been deployed, during a particularly nasty clash with the Autobots. ‘All soldiers on the field’ had been the order. She’d eagerly flown (tumbled) out with her fellow Seekers, and landed (crashed) straight in the thick of it. With guns pointed at her from all angles and her Seeker brethren flying overhead, ignoring her plight as she floundered amongst a group of Autobots, it wasn’t like she’d had much of a choice. 

They’d paid her more attention after everyone in a hundred foot radius hit the ground–the extent of it had been Starscream demanding why she hadn’t remained in formation and helped with the Aerialbots. She hadn’t been stable enough to properly respond, and when she tried to her voice shrieked with static. 

She didn’t remember who won that day. All she remembered was being dragged back, repaired, and left to work only in the base, since. 

Well. She wasn’t in the base anymore, and their situation demanded nothing less of her than all she had. Which meant her ability as well. 

Frag the pain. Pain made stronger soldiers. She’d be one worth respecting and keeping around no matter what. She’d grit through it like she’d grit through everything else, including flying to this damn place, drinking organics–her tank still felt like it was about to purge–and tolerating humans. Invert ex-vented one more time and held it. 

Then she punched her fist through her side and released it all in a shriek of agony. No, a war cry. It was a damn war cry and she did not feel like she was about to collapse and sob. 

Her servos found her T-Cog in a second. They immediately turned it in the wrong direction, straining her wiring and sending a jolt of pain through her. Her HUD glitched, displaying several warnings about internal damage. Then her audials shut down completely, followed by her optics, as her body tried and failed to change its shape. 

For a second she was left in the void that was never-ending, frame wracking agony. Was she still screaming? She couldn’t hear. She couldn’t feel her throat. She couldn’t feel her voice. 

Her optics onlined. No, she was still in the ship, and her faceplate was contorted from crying out, and her surroundings–

Oh, she recognized glitching when she saw it. 

The field that had formed around her, invisible and just as deadly as radiation, had already taken effect on everything powered within it. She was frozen with pain, but her frame was still standing. The same could not be said of the pod–or its occupant.

The screen had completely scrambled, error messages becoming illegible binary code. The life signal had become erratic, beating too much, beating too little, not beating at all, activating emergency stasis, disabling it. The glow fizzled, flashed, and went out as the wires within the pod gave out, unable to support itself anymore. The head she could just barely see jerked back, snapped to the side. 

The shrieking was back. Was it her own, or his? 

The pain was becoming too much. She couldn’t hold it for much longer. Her entire vision was red, the sight of the ship lost. Energy seemed to crackle around her servos, numbing her entire arm. Was she still gripping her T Cog? If she moved her arm, she certainly wouldn’t be. The numbness was spreading, blooming out from the source of her T-Cog and spreading up her arm like the stillness of death. But she held on. 

And it paid off. 

The screen on the pod fizzled out. Invert tore her arm free just as the numbness hit her shoulder, staggering against the wall and leaning on it for support. Her frame felt cold despite the 98F heat reading her temperature display indicated. How long had she been holding her ability up? She tried to check her internal timer, focusing on maintaining her venting and balance. 

Twelve seconds. She felt ready to purge. 

The groan of metal drew her attention back to the pod. In the low light, she could make out three massive, jointed claws closing around the bent edge, their deadly sharp tips already forming punctures in the metal. Her audials notified her of growling. 

Then the pod door burst like it was not a mech it contained but a bomb. In a stroke of luck, as the door hurled past her and embedded clean into the opposing wall, it missed Invert by a few inches, saving her from an untimely end at the awakening of her new ally. 

Or perhaps saving wasn’t the right word for it. For as the bot inside rose up, towering over her by almost half her height, a sinking feeling in the pit of her tank told her that perhaps the door knocking her helm off might have been mercy compared to whatever his intentions might be. 

He was absolutely massive. She’d seen the combiners, the great Omega Supreme, even Astrotrain in his spaceship mode, and she still wasn’t quite prepared for how large he was. His frame took up the entirety of the room as he wrenched himself free from the pod, tearing pieces of it free as he did so. 

The Insecticon’s visor lit up, illuminating his face with an ominous red light. What looked like three needle-like proboscises were folded atop his mask, which reminded her just enough of Soundwave’s to tell her that maybe she should have tried to size up her ally before attempting to establish pecking order. Bulky antennae uncurled and shifted. His large claws opened and shut as he cracked his neck, optics locking onto her vulnerable form as he took a step forward. 

She didn’t have the energy to react as his claws shot to her throat, raising her off the ground like she weighed nothing. The numbness in her body eased whatever pain she might have felt from it, but her HUD swarmed with danger notifications, and not just from the structural damage her frame had sustained. With a single click of his claws, the Insecticon could decapitate her. 

Instead he twisted and hurled her with enough force to punch through the ship, splattering her against the opposite wall in the main area. Her HUD glitched, momentarily offlined, and returned with a staunch warning: emergency stasis would soon set in. Invert fought against it, standing on shaky legs as the numbness promptly consumed one, causing her to stagger. 

And yet despite the fact that half of her body was cold and she could see graying on her right servos, she held on.

She would not die here. Her left arm was still functional. As the Insecticon tore apart the threshold of what to him was a tiny door, she retrieved her blaster and pointed it straight for his helm. Metal shrieked as the Insecticon ripped his way free of the stasis room, optics locking onto her. 

He was glaring at her. She returned the look, feeling Energon leaking from her optics. 

“Take…another…step…” she garbled out, spitting pink into the water, “and I…shoot…your head…off.” 

He cocked his helm back, looking down at her over the bridge of his mask. His chassis rose and fell a few times with what seemed like laughter. And then he held his claws out, spreading them in a provocative gesture. Do it. He was daring her. 

She gripped the blaster tighter, willing with all her might to move her numb right arm. Electricity was crackling through her systems, replacing that numbness with uncomfortable tingling. 

“Don’t you mock me,” she crackled. 

He held his gaze on her, and it took her a moment to realize that her audials were alerting her to noise. With a mask covering his face and a thousand danger notifications to keep note of, she hadn’t even thought about turning them back on. Digging the command prompt out of the sea of pop-ups, she promptly reactivated them at 50% capacity. Even with her best efforts, the audio came in slightly distorted.

“...--en, you weak little plane.” His voice was low and accented. “See where that gets you.” 

“What?”

“Do it, then,” he snarled. “How many times do I have to say it before you get it through your tiny little processor?”

“Oh yeah?” She challenged, trying to straighten up as much as she could while only having one functional leg. “What are you going to do, rip my spark out?” 

“Are you giving me ideas?” 

“You think you’ll have the brain left to process them?” “You think you’ve got the firepower to drop me in one shot?” He leaned forward, a smirk all but plastered on his masked face. “Because I think I recognize a standard issue Seeker class blaster when I see one.”

Frag. She kept the blaster pointed at his helm, but the fact of the matter was she held no power in this situation. Injured, numb, and significantly smaller than her foe, she was touting a blaster that only had potential to kill in extremely close quarters, and only against light armor. 

Her foe easily towered over her and was heavy armor class just from a glance. Even a blast to the face would likely be just a singe to him. Unless she could aim exactly into his optic or intake, she had no chance of sending a fatal bolt to his spark or processor. 

She had no power here, and he knew it. All he was doing was teasing her. 

“Now…” His voice picked up in its distinct growl. “Where are they, Seeker?” 

One heavy pede stepped forward. She vented sharply. 

“Who are ‘they’? The other Decepticons? Wait, the other Inse–”

He jammed his claws into the wall beside her, shredding it like paper. A trickle of cold ran down her back as she was pinned between his massive chassis and the panels.

“The others. Shrapnel. Kickback. Bombshell.” 

This close, she could make out the intensity of his optics behind his visor. He looked like he could be the face of a war poster. One of his proboscises unfurled, scraping against her faceplate and leaving a scar. 

Yep, she was going to purge. 

“They-they’re–!” 

And then she did, right onto his chassis. Pink energon combined with the sludge of the indigestible organics she had consumed. She coughed several times, optics momentarily offlining with each hack. 

Sharp claws moved right to her throat, accompanied by a low buzz. Oh, there it was. Maybe he only made it when he was pissed. 

“They’re…dead,” she finally said, glowering at him. “Everyone is.” 

Did she necessarily believe it? Maybe. Did she want to admit it, speak it aloud? Absolutely not.

And for forcing her to say it, she hated him, she decided. 

He didn’t relent for a moment as they held each other's gaze. The amount of vitriol contained within his own could strip plating. She tried to load the same hatred into her own.

Metal shrieked as the Insecticon tore his claws free of the wall, venting in disgust as he turned away from her. She pulled herself off the wall, stumbling as her right leg gave out again. 

“Your processor is half-melted,” he said dismissively, heading for the open side of the ship. “Who even are you? The Decepticon ranks don’t need broken weaklings who lie to save their plating.” 

A fire lit in her tank at the words, and she snapped. “Weakling!? I flew all the way here from the last Decepticon stronghold on this planet just to answer your SOS signal! I risked my aft to get you out of your stasis pod! We’re currently so deep in Autobot turf that at any moment, we could be ambushed, and that’d be the end of the cause!” Sparks crackled from her side as she yelled. “And you’re calling me weak!?”

He didn’t even look at her. “Yes, I am, little Seeker. Crossing the planet to engage in a suicide mission doesn’t make you brave or strong. It makes you incredibly stupid. But I suppose you Seekers have never been renowned for your intelligence.”

She didn’t really think about her next action, which saw her raise her blaster and shoot a bolt straight into his side. A puff of smoke rose as the energy singed his segmented plating. The Insecticon glared down at the tiny insult, then at her. 

“See? There’s your proof, dead metallico.” 

And he lunged. 

Well, if she was dying, she was taking him with her. Invert abandoned her blaster and jammed her servos into her side, the burning, agonizing pain only fueling her rage. The action made him pause right before his claws would collide with her helm, deadly sharp spikes halting mere inches from it. 

She smirked. “What’s wrong, Insecticon? Scared of a weakling Seeker?”

He didn’t get the chance to answer. They both heard the sound of an engine, followed by the crack of a jet shooting by overhead. The Insecticon’s head immediately turned to the entrance of the ship. 

Autobots. They didn’t need to say it aloud to both understand. Every Decepticon knew the sound of a Seeker’s engines and the roar they emitted when they flew low over the ground. This sounded nothing like that. 

He was off her in a second. Instinctively she fell in place behind him, keeping her servos over her T-Cog. Glancing out together, they both saw nothing in the sky–yet. 

“Take to the skies,” the Insecticon ordered. “I’ll handle whatever ground troops have arrived.” 

She grimaced, sucking an ex-vent in through her dentae. “Uh. So. About that.”

The roar sounded again, and this time they both saw the blur of what looked like a tiny rocket. The Insecticon’s antennae perked right up. Invert raised an optical ridge. 

“It’s small. A scout,” she whispered. “They don’t know we’re here yet, probably. If we can stay hidden, he might leave.”

“Hidden?” The Insecticon scoffed. “It’s one scout. I have done enough hiding in that damnable pod. I don’t care what’s wrong with you, Seeker. Get in the sky and kill him.”

“I–”

Before she could say another word the Insecticon grabbed her and charged out, roaring as he threw her into the air. She yelled, tumbling through the sky as her body instinctively tried to take its alt mode, failed, and crashed into the trees. 

“Are you KIDDING me!?” She heard echo from below before hitting her helm on a tree and momentarily losing consciousness. 

“Hey, Decepticon!” Another voice. This one sounded like it belonged to a ‘bot who was widely regarded as annoying. So, basically, any Autobot under the sun. “You’re supposed to aim at your enemy, not the sky! And since when do Seekers count as bullets?”

“GET DOWN HERE!”

“Not on ya’ life, ugly!” 

Invert groaned, peeling herself free as the sound of blaster fire rang out from nearby. Just one Autobot scout, and they were both already threatened with the possibility of termination. She needed to do something about this all. They needed to regroup back at Victory, and they needed this Autobot scout silenced. 

For one meant many–he’d probably contacted his allies the moment he saw them. 

With a bit of effort she extricated herself from the tree, splashing down onto the cage below it. The water began to turn pink as she pulled herself up. Her blaster was gone, which might have inspired her to use her rifle, except…

How could she even hope to transform it with one functional arm? Let alone try aiming it with so much crowding her HUD?

The sound of nearby blaster fire grew louder. Splashing was followed by hissing. Metal creaked and shrieked, and then she saw a frisbee of shrapnel fly through the air, missing the tiny rocket as he wheeled up and did a twirl, promptly transforming in the air just to gloat.

He really was tiny. His faceplate was gray, his plating a light orange. Blasters were mounted on his arms, which he crossed as he smirked down at the Insecticon. 

“Ya aim needs work, buggy!” And turning back, he promptly activated his boosters and shot just overhead, circling around to unleash another barrage. 

He was fast. No way the Insecticon managed to hit him with a piece of shrapnel. As he tore another piece free of the ship, Invert pulled herself up on her knees, bracing against a nearby tree. Even if they both had blasters, as long as the rocket stayed in the air, neither of them could hit him. 

As if he even cared about her. Busy toying with the giant Insecticon, the scout had already counted her out of his game. What was a broken Seeker thrown around as ammo going to do to a speedster like him?

Idiot. Did everyone think she was useless because she couldn’t fly? Because she was never deployed? Because the thing that made her useful almost killed her? Because she…

Because she would show him, damn it all. Experimental or not, her body was her weapon. Kneeling in the muddy warm, gradually growing pinker from the Energon leaking out of her side, and ignoring the constant warnings pinging in her HUD, Invert gripped her T-Cog tighter. Peering through the trees, she traced the Autobot’s swift movements, waiting for him to dive just a bit closer.

The Insecticon would suffer from this as well. She really didn’t care. He damn deserved it. 

Another metal shriek sounded through the air, followed by more taunting from the Autobot. 

“Alright, I’m getting tired’a this, ‘con. Tell ya what, surrender now, and the great Starburst will put in a good word for ya when my buds arrive, yeah? No need ta’ draw this cybercat and glitchmouse game out anymore!” 

“Get down here and we’ll see how much longer it’s drawn out,” the Insecticon warned. Starburst chortled and promptly took off again, circling and dodging branches as they were hurled for him. 

A sound like a squeal of pain escaped her, which was just as quickly silenced by biting her glossa . Focus, despite how the pain was radiating up her side. Focus, despite how many warnings were flashing in her HUD. Focus, despite how her processor was threatening to offline at any moment. 

An orange and cream blur. The pink of blaster fire. Dark of a leaf. Between the trees. The blue of the sky. Everything was starting to blur. Circling, he was circling. Which meant if she waited till he came just a bit closer, to the spot where the leaves parted and the branches formed the shape of a X– 

She practically ripped her T-Cog out of its socket cranking it to the side. One second the flash of orange was in her sights. The next the crackling of static overcame her vision and consumed her HUD. 

She heard screaming from two voices. They sounded like they were in agony. 

Good. Feel my pain.

As she thought it her body slumped and hit the ground alongside two other splashes. Water covered her optics, blurring her vision as it tried to online, turned to nothing but red, and gave up. A single message flashed several times.

ENERGON LEVELS CRITICAL. INITIATING EMERGENCY STASIS. 

Was this really it? In the heart of the Demon Swamp? She’d always thought she’d go out on Cybertron again, and that it’d be just like the first time, buried in all that rubble. 

It had been lonely. At least here, she had company. Enemies, for sure, but company. They’d all offline together. 

And then she was out. 

[polaris-daydreams]

think i need someone older

pairing : charlie reid x reader

warnings : SMUT ❗❗ daddy kink, brat taming, blowjob, rough facefucking, spit swallowing, cum swallowing, masturbating, dirty talk, imbalance of power due to difference in rank and age. pet names used : sweetheart, kid, my little girl, good girl, reid refers to himself as daddy. DO NOT READ IF UNDER 18 ❗❗

summary : you don't like the deputy chief, making it loud and clear. that only leaves reid one option, to brat tame you. 

w/c : 2.4k

a/n : for my bb @flofaiiry <3 bcs yes my moots are powerful enough to make me watch all 8 episodes of chicago pd where shawn hatosy appears, just to write about charlie reid. i'm reading her charlie reid work after i post this which means you should too okay !! this takes place before s12 ep21 where the big confrontation happens, but after torres’s relationship is known to reid ! gif credits: @ozarkthedog. divider credits: @cafekitsune. as always, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated. enjoy and go crazy over this man muaks <3

You’re a stellar officer by all accounts.

Clean record. Scholarship to the academy. 100% success rate on all your cases thus far. Past partners, members of Hank’s team and even local residents sing you praises.

A goody two shoes officer wasn't really on his radar, Reid thinks to himself. Even if you were on Hank’s team. Nothing to use, to manipulate to get his way. Too clean. Too pure. 

Yet you're the furthest thing from sunshine when you're with him.

Furrowed eyebrows. Snarky remarks. Crossed arms. You’ve made your dislike of the Deputy Chief quite clear. Despite the reprimands from your Sargeant and advice from your team members to pull back on it. Make it less obvious so you don’t incur his wrath. It all falls on deaf ears. 

Reid even caught wind of your complaining once.

“Does he think we’re his playthings? We have bigger criminals to catch than a carjacking one.” You had whispered to your Sargeant.

“Hank! You got a second?” Reid called out while leisurely strutting up to the two of you.

You didn't even try to hide your grimace at his (frequent) sudden appearances.

“Yes sir. Need an update?” Voight had become accustomed to his hovering.

“Nah. Just wanted to make sure you guys were on the right track and following the lead on this case. Don’t want my favorites to get complacent. Makes me feel like I bet on the wrong horse.” Reid answered.

You rolled your eyes.

This fucking brat.

Oh, what Reid would give to see you doing that in a different context.

“We got it handled sir.” Voight assured before leading the way to the car again.

Your eyes lingered on Reid’s as you walked backwards, before spinning and walking normally. Reid’s gaze stayed on your frame, even as you got in the car. Eyes locking when Hank starts the car. You squint at him. As if Reid’s beneath you. He’ll show you how you got it backwards a few days later.

You drag your feet back up the stairs. Losing a bet with the team meant you were left to deal with the neverending paperwork while they all went on their merry way. Of course Ruzek would rope you into their antics. The stack in your arms getting heavier by the second.

The space is dark, all desk lamps are off. Or at least, that's what you expected. Sarge’s office light is still on. A figure peeking through the window blinds. 

An outline you instantly recognise, disdain already bubbling up in your chest.

You don’t announce yourself as you enter Voight’s office, placing the stack of reports down before turning to Reid and leaning against the desk.

Your eye twitches when you take him in. Reid has his feet propped up on the table, as if he owns the place. One arm on the back of the couch, the other resting on the side. Fingers drumming as if he was waiting for you to show up. He’s dressed in a dark-coloured button up, glasses adorning his face. A different look from all the vests and uniforms. One might even say a little domestic.

What?

You stamp down that thought in your head, busying yourself with one of the files as you question him.

“The hell are you doing here?” You demand while not looking up.

So you don’t notice him stopping his movement. Don’t notice pushing his tongue into his cheek at your attitude. 

“I like to make it a point to know all my officers. So I know all about your clean record. Top of your class. Volunteering work and engaging with the community. You’re a real pleasure to work with, based on … well everybody.” Reid huffs a tiny laugh at that.

You clench your jaw. Annoyed at whatever little mind game he’s playing.

“And? What, you want a lollipop for that? It’s basic information. Anybody could’ve read my files.” You deadpan.

Reid smirks. Lollipop? Oh, he’ll give you something to suck alright.

“Mm. That’s true, but … they wouldn't think to dig a little deeper. Read along the lines as I did.” He responds while leaning back, taking his glasses off to place them atop his head.

“You don’t just follow orders from your superiors, you like being told what to do, being guided. You don’t just enjoy engaging with the community, you enjoy hearing them praise you, notice your efforts. You don’t just go along with the teasing from your team members, you look forward to the different pet names they come up with.” Reid’s voice is lower, as he takes his feet off the table.

Choosing to manspread on the couch instead.

He tilts his head.

“Why don’t you want those with me?” Genuine confusion shows in his face, as if he asked something totally innocent.

“If you’re shy, I’ll have you know I’m more than willing to be sweet on you kid. Just gotta stop being such a fuckin’ brat.”

You grip the file tighter. Bring your crossed arms closer to your chest.

All it does is make Reid’s eyes drop, before dragging them slowly up your body again.

“I think we’re done here Chie-” You push away from the desk, getting two long strides in before he interupts.

“Sit down.”

You stop in your tracks from the domineering tone he uses.

A quick glance to Reid reveals his carefree posture. Leaned back, legs spread wide. The hand that was draped on the back of the sofa is now curled on his mouth, barely covering a smirk. Like he knew the effect that kind of tone and command would have on you.

“I said. Sit. Down, kid.” Reid emphasises his point by tapping his foot once, twice.

You know what he’s really asking you to do.

What’s gonna happen if you decide to sit on the floor between his legs.

You also realise that Reid’s still giving you an out.

Unmoving from his position on the couch, the door is wide open in front of you. Reid wouldn’t stop you if you did cross over. If you chose to remain pure, untainted by his corrupted hands.

So he is slightly surprised when you go up to the door. Not to walk out, but to close and lock it. You slowly make your way to Reid. Standing between his spread knees. Not quite listening to Reid’s instructions, but that’s alright. He’ll make you obey him soon enough.

Reid runs his hands up and down your thighs covered by your black stockings. The warmth makes you shudder. He notices. He always notices.

“Been thinking of you day and night, sweetheart.”

“About ripping your tights and bending you over the desk whenever you had an attitude.” He unzips your skirt, letting it fall to the floor.

“Or fucking your throat whenever you got mouthy with me.” He tugs down your stockings, eyes darkening when he sees your panties.

“Awh, those just for me kid? S’cute, might have to steal them.” He coos while kneading your thighs.

You roll your eyes before quickly getting on your knees. Not out of submission, but out of annoyance.

“Just shut the fuck up and-” You’re cut off by Reid yanking you by the roots of your hair.

“Oh sweetheart, you kiss your Daddy bye-bye with that dirty mouth? He never teach you any manners?” Reid unbuckles his belt with his free hand.

“S’okay, I’ll do it for you, yeah?” Freeing his hard cock, pumping it a few times.

“I’ll be your Daddy tonight, kid.”

That’s the only warning you get before he thrusts hard into your mouth. You barely manage to hold down a gag at the feeling of him completely filling you up, when he takes it back out and slams into you again. The tip of his cock is kissing the back of your throat as Reid keeps up his brutal pace.

“This what you wanted? Needed, hm?” 

Drool escapes down your chin. Garbled moans and wet sounds fill the small office.

“Just needed Daddy to discipline you? My little girl just wants her Daddy to be mean and rough?”

Tears are welling up in your eyes. You can’t keep up with the snapping of his hips combined with the size of him.

“Well, what kind of Daddy would I be if I didn't give her what she wants, hm?”

Reid pulls his cock out of your mouth completely. A string of saliva connects from the tip of his cock to your swollen lips, before you sputter out a cough or two.

“Want to hear you say it, kid.”

He swipes a thumb over your chin, collecting your saliva.

“Tell Daddy how much you need him. Then I’ll give you whatever you want sweetheart.”

Reid brings his thumb past his lips, groaning as he tastes your saliva.

Your teary eyes are on him, vision slightly blurred. Yet you can still make out that cocky expression as he looks down at you.

His hand goes down to your face again. Gentle brushes of his knuckles on your cheekbones. The tight grip on the back of your hair has loosened up, stroking the hair softly instead.

A soft moment of reprieve. Just to get you to listen to him.

“Come on. Just let Daddy know that you need his big cock to fuck your throat. Let’s learn to be polite and ask for things we want, okay kid?” He has that condescending melodic tone, the one that makes your brain get all fuzzy.

You clench the fists on your thighs. Swallowing down your pride.

“Want … want Daddy to fuck my throat. Need him to cum down it, please?”

The smile Reid gives you is downright evil.

“Yeah? My little girl needs Daddy’s cock? Just needs Daddy’s cum, huh?”

His hand stops caressing your face, joining the one at the back of your head.

“Alright kid. Three taps to stop, okay?” 

You think the corners of his eyes soften just a little. 

But it's hard to focus when Reid uses both his hands to shove your mouth down the full length of his cock.

Even harder when he bucks his hips up, reaching even deeper into the warmth of your throat.

“Fuck, kid. You don’t know how many times I’ve fantasised about this. About you.”

The glasses have fallen back onto his face from the movement, a hand leaving you to quickly right them before resuming the position behind your head.

“Whenever you get bratty with me, I come home to fuck my fist to the memory of you. Make a mess on my sheets because of you, kid.”

Reid’s panting now, chest moving up and down. His focused eyes darkened from lust.

“Remember that time you said if I viewed your team as my playthings? Fuck, that made me so hard, I had to jerk off in the office bathroom. Made me think about you as my plaything. Mine to bounce on my cock whenever I wanted, suck my cock wherever I wanted.”

Tears are falling freely down your face. Slick sounds of your saliva mixed with his precum, against the thrusting motions are echoing in the room. You’re grinding against nothing, the feeling of him just too good to stop your hips. You hope Reid doesn't notice. He does. Gives you a little nod to let you slip your hand down your panties.

“M’ sure your team wouldn't mind if they saw. They already covered up Torres’s relationship, what’s another one huh? Nobody’s stupid enough to stand up to me as Deputy Chief anyways.” He lets out a dark chuckle, seeing you hump your fingers while sucking him off.

“So what do you say kid? Wanna be Daddy’s little plaything? I’ll fuck you good, you know that. Fill you up with my cum always. Send you out on cases with my cum dripping out of you, would you like that sweetheart?”

You nod dumbly, moaning around his cock pistoning in and out of your mouth. The pleasure of you fingering yourself along with him fucking your throat has you completely pliable.

Reid hisses as your moans send vibrations to his cock. He coos at the sight of you, absolutely cock-drunk. Just the way he likes it.

“Yeah? You would huh. Want you to make a mess all over your fingers and cute panties. Make a mess for Daddy, and he’ll give you what you need kid. I’ll fuck you before briefings, let my cum leak out of you while you listen obediantly. I’ll make you take me under the desk, keep me warm while I write reports.”

Your sweet whimpers are music to Reid’s ears. The view of you desperately humping your fingers, mindlessly chasing after pleasure, goes straight to his ego.

“Maybe, I’ll even fuck you over Hank’s desk. Let your team hear how good Daddy makes you feel. Let them know that I own them. That I own you.”

Your eyes roll back as your body convulses beneath him. Hips stuttering as you cum from his sinful words. The feel of him bruising your throat. Your fingers deep inside you.

It all pushes Reid to the edge. Cursing and shoving his cock completely as he spills himself into the warmth of your throat. His head is tilted back as you milk him dry, muscles tensing from the aftershocks.

Panting. Still riding that high, Reid looks back down at you as he slowly takes out his cock. He grips your jaw shut.

“Swallow.”

The command manages to get through your fucked-out state of mind. A mind that now only has him, him, him.

You gulp it down. Feeling it go down your throat and settling in your stomach.

Reid follows the movement of your throat. Tongue darting out quickly. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, flicking it down slightly.

“Stick out your tongue and show Daddy.”

You listen. No snarky remarks. No rolling of your eyes. Reid smirks triumphantly at your newfound obedience for him.

“Good fucking girl.”

The next morning when Kim comes in, she makes a comment about you getting in early even after staying late. You don’t tell her you never left. Or about how your cum soaked panties are with the Deputy Chief. Or how despite changing into different clothes, your new panties are still soaked. With Reid’s cum dripping out of you.

a/n : need that corrupt cop. also i broke my glasses while watching so i had my foldable laptop up to my face seeing shawn hatosy in all his glory. pretty pleasee like, comment or reblog if you enjoyed. come be feral over yet another shawn hatosy character with me !!

no pressure tags for beloved moots : @flofaiiry @erwinsvow @callsign-fangirl @superhoeva @mangonom @flamingdisputes @likedovesinthewnd @loveslide @twentytoo22 @ultr4vjolence

[nglitchx]

Arcane - Claggor

Title// Black Cloaked

Type: X Reader

(W.I.P): I slowly update the same post with new paragraphs so don’t be surprised if it’s suddenly longer than when you last read it.

CHAPTER ONE

During a cold gloomy night below, footsteps could be heard through the alleyways. The sounds quickening with every passing moment. The desperate figure, unable to catch their breath continues to rush through the darkness. Coming across what seems to be a dead end, the person freezes. Trying to figure a way out, unable to process how to escape as the footsteps of the enforcers echoed closer. The cloaked individual finally took a breath and leaned against the wall in defeat. ‘Guess this is it..’ the person thought while sliding down the wall. ‘So much for an easy loot.’ They thought while pulling a shiny gem from their pants. The glimmering blue, slightly lighting the area showing the girls tired and sweat covered face. “So much hassle over some blue bal-“ she stopped as she noticed a hole in the corner of her eye. Internally praising the light the ball gave her, she rushed towards the hole. So what if she didn’t know where it lead, it seemed like a better option than torture or jail. Pocketing the gem she entered the darkness, narrowly escaping the enforcers that were after her.

She crawled through the strange feeling tunnel all the way into an empty room. Exhausted from the chase, she sat on what looked to be old crates. While assessing her surroundings she freezes at the sound of a door opening. “You sure you want them in here?” said a voice. “Yeah, we only have so much space available.” Responded someone else. As quickly as the person entered she clocked them in the face. There now laid a tan man with a mustache unconscious. The items that were once in his arms went crashing to the floor, thus alarming the other man in the place. “What the-“ before he could even finish she lunged at him. He of course, after realizing what was happening tried to defend himself. They continued to fight in the building, knocking over trinkets and gadgets. After tussling for some time, he managed to land a proper punch on the cloaked girl. Her body flew across the room. Stumbling to get up, he slowly approached her with a bat in hand. “Now, you gonna tell me who the hell you are, or am I gonna have to force you?” He breathed heavily while wiping the blood off his chin. “Neither” she stated while quickly kicking him in the nuts. Not expecting that, the brunette man fell to the floor. While gripping his lower region in pain, the cloaked girl head butted him unconscious. Letting out a breathe of relief, she looked around the building for some kind of rope. After managing to acquire said rope she tied the two men to some chairs.

The hood of her cloak fell as she ran her fingers through her hair. She contemplated how to go about the situation. She’s already wanted for theft, and avoiding arrest, if she murdered the two men in front of her that would only add up her charges. She eyed the unconscious individuals, wondering if they’d keep their mouths shut after the whole ordeal. ‘The short one looks like he’d squeal.’ She thought releasing the grip on his face. “You however… you sir look a lot better when you aren’t punching me.” She mumbled tracing his face as she noticed the big man’s good looks. Instantly, the lass took a step back. Was she really checking out some random dude whom she just fought? None sense, he had just threatened her with a bat. Not unjustly however, it would have been weird if he didn’t after she snuck in and attacked them. Finally coming to a decision she decided to leave them tied up, at least till morning. The feeling of exhaustion was consuming her but she had to make sure this place was locked and secure before even thinking of shutting her eyes. Finally finishing, she sat in a corner with a weapon in hand. The woman closed her eyes hoping to gain some rest before the men awoke. However, morning came much faster than anticipated and she woke up to the sounds of people whispering.

”You know, for a master lock picker, you’re shit at knots.” The bigger man whispered. “Are you seriously comparing locks with knots right now?!” Yelled the scrawny guy. “Mylo, shut it, you’ll wake her up.” He scolded. The two continued to struggle against the rope. Never in their lives had someone ever tied them up in such a manner. “What if we wait it out? Ekko is sure to pop in.” Mylo commented with hope. “Fat chance. He has a date with powder. We’re screwed if we can’t break free.” Chimed the other. The skinny one groaned in despair, if only he could reach the knife on the desk. He found it ridiculous how throughly tied he was. Both men had their chests, arms and legs tied to the chairs. And if that wasn’t enough, the intruder tied their elbows, knees and chairs together. Finally giving up because of the feeling of their skin chaffing against the rope, the men sat there in silence. The cloaked girl opened her eyes slightly to see the guys no longer moving. After seeing that they were still in fact tied up she spoke. “I’m not looking to harm you.” She stated with her arms crossed. The men shifted their gaze towards her after hearing her speak. “Not looking to harm us? You broke in, pummeled us and then tied us up.” Yelled the one she assumes is Mylo. “Well, to be fair she knocked you out cold with one punch. So I wouldn’t exactly say you were pummeled” Said his bigger friend. “What the hell does that have to do with anything.” The other responded causing them to both bicker. While the two men argued, the girl stood up from her corner and walked towards them. She grabbed Mylo’s head and forced him to look her in the eye. “Look, if I wanted you dead, you’d be facing God right now.” She stated letting go of his head harshly. She walked towards the bigger man, eyeing him. “I just needed a place to crash for the night. So how about we keep this mess between us?” She smiled, hoping they’d agree. She was wrong, the men looked at her as if she had made an absurd request.

“Who the fuck would agree to that?” Mylo asked baffled. The girl walked about the room, while twirling the knife in her hand. She sat on the desk and looked towards the boys. “I’m not above gagging and leaving you tied. But I’d much rather spend my energy elsewher-“ she stopped as she noticed a framed drawing. Unable to take her eyes off it, she takes the drawing in her hand. A familiar blue haired girl was on the sheet, but she looked different. “Jinx?” She mumbled slightly panicked. Something didn’t feel right, a sudden coldness filled her body. Her breathing started to feel heavy, as she started to remember things she had done her hardest to forget. “Hey are you alright?” The boys tried asking but she was unable to hear them. A ringing filled her head as she fell to the ground. Dazed, she tried lifting herself but wound up knocking the knife off the desk. The cloaks hood came off her head as she gripped her hair in agony. The blade she knocked over was now up against the chair of one of the men. With how the knife fell against his chair, the bigger man slowly moved his fingers to try and grab hold of it when suddenly, the girl stopped gripping her hair. The noise in her head had stopped. She could finally breathe again. Realizing her hair was showing, she hooded herself once again. Wanting to get as far away as possible, she rushed towards the door. “Our time was short but let us never meet again. Bye bye.” She waved while quickly exiting. “Well great, now what the hell do we do?” Mylo whined annoyed that he was still tied. Not knowing his brother was already breaking free of the rope, he continued to try and wiggle himself out. “My dear brother, we do what we do best.” He said back. “And that is?” His brother looked at him with a raised brow. “We break free.” The big man grunted after snapping the rest of the rope with his strength. He stood up from the chair and began to cut his brother free. “Ho ho well, I believe we have a criminal to catch Claggor.” He smiled towards his brother. “I believe you are correct Mylo” Claggor responded while looking towards the door the woman had ran out from.

Rushing to get far away, she ran with all she could. You would think trying to avoid crashing into anyone isn’t difficult but easier said than done apparently. This woman somehow managed to crash face first into a broad male chest. With a thud, she fell to the floor. A light groan escaped her lips from landing on her ass. ”You alright there?” Asked a voice. The woman went to respond but she held her voice back after seeing who was in-front of her. There stood a man with long hair and a beard, a man she was sure was long dead. “That’s impossible…” she gasped. The man leaned down to try and give her a hand but she flinched back. He raised an eyebrow in confusion towards her actions. Before he could get a word out, some yelling could be heard from the distance. “There Claggor, she’s over there!” Yelled Mylo. Immediately the woman got out of her daze and booked it once again, this time towards an alleyway. Claggor and Mylo tried running past the long haired man but they didn’t get that far. “Whoa whoa, what are you two doing” He questioned while grabbing the backs of their collars to keep them from running off. “Vander let go” Mylo said struggling against his grip. “He’s right, she’s getting away.” Claggor responded. Vander looked at the men then looked in the direction where the woman ran off to. “You’re not planning any funny business are you? I raised you better than that.” He scolded. The men looked at him and assured that it wasn’t like that. After quickly explaining, they managed to convince him to let them go. “We’re never gonna find her now.” Mylo said annoyed. “Let’s split up, we’ll be able to cover more ground.” Claggor suggested. Mylo nodded his head in agreement and went towards the main areas, leaving Claggor to the alleyways.

—————————————-

AN: I haven’t done fanfics since Middle School. I’m also very much new to Tumblr. Hopefully I don’t wind up dropping this. Anyway, this is just the beginning of the story, if Tumblr lets me edit posts after posting then I’ll add more onto here. If it doesn’t, then I’ll just do a continuation on another post.

AN 2: So Tumblr does in fact allow me to edit posts, awesome. Just added a new paragraph to the story.

AN 3: Fixed some stuff in the other paragraphs and I added a 5th paragraph. I’m thinking about doing at least 10 paragraphs per chapter. Any thoughts? Anyways stay tuned for the next paragraphs.

[callsign-rogueone]

love at first fight - r.g.

Ridoc Gamlyn x marked!reader the first post of my Valentine’s Day celly! 💕 words: 668 🏷: no book spoilers this time! sparring and some blood. no mention of reader’s gender / pronouns. I just have a feeling that Ridoc would be super attracted to someone who's dangerous and can handle themself in combat. this will be part one of a mini-series I have planned, hehe update: sequel is out, read here!

Ridoc commits your entire being to memory the moment he sees you step out of the crowd.

How had he not noticed you before? Everything about you is stunning; the muscle packed onto your legs, the way the rider’s black looks on your skin, and your unruffled demeanor -- you’re looking Jack Barlowe straight in the eye, unflinching. You might be one of three people in the class who aren’t terrified of the guy, who is itching to fight with you.

You strip off your jacket, handing it to the tall blonde beside you whose name he can’t remember, and Ridoc’s heart nearly stops at the sight of the swirling tattoo trailing up your left arm: you’re marked.

If you’re as strong as the rest of your friends -- and you certainly look to be -- this is going to be a good matchup, but he’s still on edge. Barlowe has already garnered a reputation for fighting dirty; he’s tried to kill every one of his opponents thus far in the term, and judging by his visible disgust at your rebellion relic, you won’t be an exception.

Your friend says something to you quietly, advice or a soft reassurance, and you take your place on the mat, shaking out your limbs.

Barlowe lunges at you the second the professor says go, and you make no move to stop him. Do you have a death wish or something?

Evidently not. You kick out at the last second, catching him in the stomach, and he skids back a few feet. He quickly pushes forward again, and you land a punch directly to his jaw and another to his ribs. If he wasn’t mad already, he definitely is now. 

He tackles you to the floor, his fist catching the side of your mouth, and you hiss in pain. You grab the hilt of the dagger at his side and pull, yanking it from its sheath and pointing it at him in warning.

He wraps a hand around your wrist, twisting and pushing back at an awkward angle. Rather than struggle over the dagger, you let it fall and kick it aside, sending it spinning across the floor. If you can’t have it, he can’t either.

You kick out again, hitting him where it hurts and shoving him back onto the mat, rising onto your knees. You pull two more blades from the leather straps that circle your thighs, pressing one to his throat and the other to his side.

He yields, but everyone can tell he’s pissed, and that he won’t be letting this go anytime soon. He retreats to the other side of the gym, still smoldering.

Ridoc picks up the short blade that had landed at his feet, extending the hilt to you silently -- by the rules of the Codex, it’s yours to keep as a trophy.

You smile at him with a split lip, the only wound you’d sustained in the fight, taking it and tucking it at your thigh alongside the ones you’d threatened Jack with. “Thanks.”

He nearly falls over at the sound of your voice, soft and sweet in contrast to the hardened soldier persona you’d displayed on the mat.

You return to your squad, leaning against the wall to watch the next match. Blonde guy -- Liam? Lucas, maybe? No, definitely Liam. -- hands you your jacket, but you don’t put it back on, draping it over one arm instead.

Liam holds up five fingers, and you shake your head, holding up four: it had taken you four blows to bring Barlowe down. “New record,” you mouth, smug.

Ridoc’s eyes still don’t leave you even as two cadets start throwing punches directly in front of him. 

“I smell a crush,” Rhiannon says slyly. 

“We need to unpack why you’re only attracted to people who could kill you, dude,” Sawyer adds. “I’m legitimately concerned.”

His friends’ comments go in one ear and out the other. Deadly or not, he’d do anything to have you smile at him like that again.

[tomionefinds]

Abandoned but Worth It

What does this mean? We have an Abandoned tag. We've decided to compile a list of fairly popular, now some obscure, fics that are abandoned, but worth reading. Our criteria for this title is thus:

It has not been updated within the last 2 years, has been orphaned, or has been given a fast summary at the end by the author

Presents a unique take on the relationship or a new dynamic to the ship

Advances world-building, or posits its own magical theory, in the HP world

Length (we avoided those with only a few chapters)

Here are some of the fics that met the criteria for abandoned but worth it. We will continue to add to this list as the year goes on. And never say never. Fics left alone for years can suddenly come back and finish.

Authors; If you see your fic on this list and its not abandoned, please DM us.

-TF Team

This Tangle of Thorns by theriskybusinessofwriting

M | 39k Her mother had gotten herself a new lover. His name was Tom. Modern AU. No magic. Slightly inspired by Lolita.

The Orphanage by Xylosaurus

M | 66k

She was only 8 and had already lost her parents and memories all in one tragic night. Forced to live in Wool's Orphanage, Hermione finds friendship with a 9-year-old Tom Riddle but is soon ripped from him by a prophecy. Six years have passed and he still looks for her. AU Tomione

Bodyswitch by Winterblume

T | 50k

Hermione's in hell and all her nightmares have come true. She's turned into a brainless bimbo and is failing all her classes quite spectacularly. Her teachers have, in fact, already given up on her and just sit back and watch her flunk all her NEWTs. Yes, it's nothing but hell for Hermione. On the upside, things can hardly get any worse. Right?

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang by LovelyVillain

E | 300k

Hermione hasn’t seen Tom since he disappeared from Wool’s Orphanage eight years ago, taking her heart with him. But now, he’s returned, a string of bodies at his feet and a league of assassins at his back. British Intelligence Officer Harry Potter leads the investigation to catch a highly skilled killer wreaking havoc across Europe, while Hermione struggles between what is right and the man she loves. Killing Eve inspired AU

More beneath the cut!

Orphea by SallyJAvery

M | 48k

"You could not believe I was more than your echo." A spell to sing the dead to life, when the living are lost. Tomione, post-war, dystopian AU.

The Pendulum of the Mind by AvaJune

M | 118k

Tom's fingers slid across her skin as he pulled up her sleeve, feeling irregular bumps and scarring as he watched in fascination as instead of a dark mark, he steadily revealed rune carvings. His eyes flicked back to hers, watching her reaction to his touch. "I will give you this, witch. You are unbearably intriguing," he murmured. Madness flies in the face of logic, and if there is one thing Hermione Granger cannot abide, it's things that defy logic. There is always something against her, this time the very laws of time and space. There is, however, a truth she now knows about herself; she isn't quite the rule girl she once thought she was. *Hermione - Tom Riddle. AU, Post Battle of Hogwarts*

Ad Infinitum by Speechwriter

T | 77k

As he forges inexorably toward the end of time, he may come to wonder if this is a world worth ruling. Science fantasy. [summary in final chapter]

Nothing Like the Sun by Orphan_account

E | 118k

There’s something unnerving about Tom Riddle. Hermione’s never quite been able to articulate just what it is about him that unsettles her so: after all, Riddle’s popular and charming and adored by Hogwarts staff and students alike. Still, she’d swear that there’s something lurking beneath that warmly polite veneer of his, something that lies in wait like a serpent in the dark. But it’s not until her sixth year at Hogwarts, when she rashly confronts him over an unprecedented act of violence, that the full force of Riddle’s chilling regard is abruptly and wholly turned on her.

Blood is Thicker by AbsintheDreams

M | 75k

A/U: Still Hogwarts Universe, but I play with the timeline alot. Hermione is just twelve when she meets Riddle. Just a child when she witnesses a sadistic murder in the halls of her sacred school. Popular, humble, well mannered, Riddle always gets what he wants. Victims, admirers, enemies, followers…they all fall in line. Except the defiant girl with his mark on her skin. She only wants his downfall, and he will only settle for her total submission.

The Anti-Heroine by cheshire_carroll

M | 641k

Hermione Granger knows she's not a good person. Disillusioned with life at only twelve years old; she is cynical, manipulative, ruthless and, above all else, a survivor. For six years she has lived on the streets of London with only her sharp mind and her sharper knives to keep her alive, but a letter from an owl changes everything for Hermione, and the bond she forms on the Hogwarts Express with a timid boy with broken glasses, skinny wrists and a lightning-shaped scar will change the whole of Wizarding Britain.   Main Pairing: Harry Potter/Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle

Handling a Dark Lord Wannabe by cleighc

E | 89k

Hermione was not amused. Not. At. All. They had defeated Lord Voldemort after years of struggle. Witnessed the end. She had thought, with relief and without an ounce of charity, that she never had to deal with that pretentious, presumptuous, melodramatic, homicidal son of a bitch ever again. Apparently the castle had other ideas.

Bitter Almonds by orphan_account

E | 63k

What would happen if the Mauraders, the Golden Trio, and the Knights of Walpurgis all went to school together? Also, what if Tom Riddle developed a strange obsession with Hermione Granger?

Et in Arcadia ego by muggleriddle

T | 55k

When Hermione found that little spell hidden in between the complicated illustrations of a book, she imagined she would get a destroyed horcrux with it, not a brand new Tom Riddle.

Journey of the Soul by Queen_Medieva E | 197k

A decade spent as the Undesirable Number One under the Dark Lord's tyrannical regime would challenge anyone's perception of "right" and "wrong". What lengths would YOU go to for a chance at a new life? In the early morning hours of May 2nd 2008, exactly ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger ceased to exist.

Addendum: He is also a liar by ergott

Not Rated | 158k

Despite his impoverished circumstances, Tom Riddle always knew he was destined for great things. The ability to travel back and forth through time was a bit of a surprise, though. Also a surprise: the bushy-haired little girl he meets in the future who possesses powers to match his own. Eventual Tomione; starts pre-Hogwarts

[forsaken-headcanons]

hai making an updated version of the crossover au cuz I gave it more thought-

"Loose Threads au" as I'll call it (get it? Cuz fabric of reality, fabric has threads, haha-/j)

!!!!please note this is VERY unorganized😅

"The spawn", is actually pressures mentioned " Almighty"(basically GOD), they pretty much hold the most power over every dirty(there's kinda a pantheon, if you like to think of it like that).

"The spawn" actually isn't in control of the 'respawning', no that role belongs to The Ferryman, and leMME TELL YA- THAT SHIT AINT FOR FREE-/silly

Ahem- to further explain: originally, it kinda worked like Dante's Inferno, you got a coin? I'll take ya wherever( but in this case its revival), but the catch is: where in the Sam HELL are UA gonna get a ferryman token!? (In other words they're VERY rare)

Then fast forward to the Devils deal with Urbanshade, that kinda fucked up everything and the Ferryman DIED leaving Lady Death (albeit forcibly) in charge (iykyk the lore), Azures death happens a bit after this, BUT! like I said, respawning doesn't come for free, and Azure WAS NOT of Urbanshade, so they GOT NO "FREE RESPAWN", and wandered what is basically the roblox equivalent of Limbo (a peaceful yet somber meadowy region that borders the Banlands, cast in eternal twilight)

BUT! after the events of pressure happen(get the crystal, yadayafayada), forsaken happens, and the specter had basically yoinked azure, conTORTED their mind, took her corpse and "repurposed" it, and made them the first puppet in their lil "game", and thus, the first killer had been made.

Sorry that this maaay be a bit pressures centered bUT I PROMISE, I WILL GET TO THE FORSAKEN-CENTERED EVENTS I JUST WANTED TO EXPLAIN IT A BIT-😭/silly/lh

But no really I do apologize, I just have a LOT to share-

-corvid enthusiast

oh this. this this this this this. corvid enthusiast how DARE you try and bring us back to our pressure phase /silly

really really really love the concept of this au augh. just. just gonna. nom. sorry uh the au's gone we ate it 😔

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 41]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 41 - The showers are broken, Scar and Grian head down to the river, and all hell breaks loose. The compound has rules for a reason.

📝 Words: 15,776

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 41 on AO3

—

A guarded expression passes over B’s face, unreadable and moving far too quickly for Grian to properly catch and discern.

“Yeah,” he says, stiff, the word sticking strange in his throat. “So, about that.”

A second passes, reluctance caught in it before finally B relents.

“You’re gonna find out the moment you go in to eat anyway, so I’ll just warn you now,” he sighs, speaking as though he’s sharing something somewhat confidential. “We’re in a bit of a high alert situation right now. The patrols we did yesterday yielded a lot more undead in the area than we normally get, and Ren doesn’t like the way the hordes are nearing camp, so he’s sending groups out to shore up the perimeter as a precaution. Joel’s always up early for breakfast duty, so…” he shrugs, forcing himself to crack a smile. “It was off to the mines for him.”

“And Etho?” Scar presses.

That, at least, brings them a moment of levity, B quirking an eyebrow at Scar before he answers, “No way you haven’t noticed that Joel can’t get very far without Etho trailing after him.”

It takes a second for B’s words to sink in, but then, with a fondness that Grian wasn’t quite expecting, Scar glances towards him, his hand bumping against Grian’s elbow as he teases, “I wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

It pushes a blush into Grian’s cheeks, for once not feeling self-conscious as Scar points out the connection between them.

It could’ve always been like this, a part of him thinks, traitorous and bitter. If you had let yourself love him.

[ read more ]

—

Chapter 41! The penultimate chapter of There Are Monsters Nearby! We get a bit soppy in the notes with this one, but for here we both just want to thank you all so much for coming along on the TAMN journey with us. Next week is the final part of this portion of TAMN, but in the meantime we wanted to treat you with an extra special, extra long, early Hallowe'en update!

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

[lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Wrote a lil something awhile back with this premise (link here) but as I'm catching up with the recent updates on diasomnia chapter, I thought "why not write this with them?", thus this idea was born. Though I haven't writed for the whole diasomnia before so lemme know if you think they're too ooc!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Here in Brazil when we met someone new or just as a form of greeting, it's customary to give them a hug and a kiss, or a polite handshake. And in general we are really affectionate with our friends. So I was thinking how some of the characters would react.

Malleus is touch-starved, plus he doesn't know much about the world and the customs of humans. So when you, a little human, constantly greet him with warm hugs and ask him to lean in a little so you can kiss his forehead and cheeks? Mal-Mal here is over the moon, wanting more of that affection he doesn't get so often, he wants to hear you making that high pitched voice while you hold his face and while you pat his head and stroke his horns. By seven, you certainly don't know what fear is. And little by little he returns your affection, laughing at your surprised expression when he kisses your forehead and smiles full of mockery.

Always so mischievous Lilia tends to use his powers to levitate you next to him every time you hug him as a form of greeting, at this point this is already a little tradition of yours. He loves receiving your kisses, pink adorning his cheeks every time, but he prefers to cup your face and pepper it with slow kisses, and sometimes sway and twirl with you from side to side as if you two were dancing. Lilia loves your small gestures of affection, even if they are just deep-rooted customs from your culture, they still mean a lot to him. I also feel like he would be the type of friend to create a secret handshake, something unique just for the two of you.

Sebek feels his cheeks flush, he tries to lecture you but only low murmurs and strangled screams leave his lips with every kiss you leave on his cheek and every hug offered. He's like a child who received the gift he's been waiting for his whole life and now he's so excited that he can't express himself, although he doesn't need to shout how he feels when his eyes express to you how much each of your gestures means to him. He will deny everything and try to act like he always does, but he is much softer on you after receiving your daily kisses and hugs.

Silver smiles, imitating your greetings as a sign of respect for you and your culture. Every kiss, handshake and hug exchanged leaves him warm inside, the other students are not as warm as you and he finds this change interesting. He likes to wonder if everyone in your country is as warm and welcoming as you, and he would love to hear you talk about where you come from. He would love to ask you to hug him while he takes a nap, but the idea is embarrassing enough for him to put into words, but maybe one day it will come true.

[prolix-yuy]

Hello friends! It's been way way way way WAY too long since we chatted, and to be honest I've been taking an embarrassingly long time to write this update post because godDAMN life just gets you sometimes and you go on an impromptu hiatus that gets super messy. So let's get into what's been going on and what to look forward to!

Pedro Tax for this long-ass post.

(We're gonna get into some personal stuff, but if you're just here for what's coming up skip down to WHAT'S NEXT for the tl;dr version)

So beyond work getting hectic from January to March, which was the catalyst for everything getting wacky, I experienced a weird emotional turn that I wasn't expecting. It made me get a little introspective, which I blame some of my productivity slump on.

As I was finishing up the Bangathon entries, I noticed a sharp decline in interaction. I'm a fairly young fic writer on Tumblr, but I was a little baffled as to why stories I'd posted only a week before got a nice bit of interaction yet the newer ones were only getting half to a quarter of what I expected. For a minute I thought I had been shadowbanned (I was not) or I hadn't tagged the posts (I had) or my taglists weren't working (they were). People were already talking about interaction being lower, so I sat back and tried to go with the flow and not let it bother me. I posted Decoherence, which has a more niche audience, but I was definitely missing and wishing for some of the comments and reblogs I thought I might get.

All this led up to one of the least favorite voices in my head saying something that stuck around:

"Well, you were right not to become a writer if your motivation is this closely tied to feedback."

If you're new here or I haven't talked about it much recently, I initially was planning to be a writer. Went to school for it and everything. While I was there I felt like I hadn't found the stories I wanted to tell yet. My colleagues were developing in their niches and writing "the great American novel" and I didn't feel like I fit in. My stories had a lukewarm reception, and I never felt like anyone was excited about anything I was trying to say. So I wrote myself into burnout by the time I graduated with not much to show for it. I ended up doing a career switch, which I love to this day, but I stopped writing for almost 10 years.

Coming to Tumblr, I felt that spark of excitement writing again, and some of that was definitely due to people commenting and being excited or interested in the stories I was sharing. That truly revived something in me I thought was long gone, and reflecting back on the last two years that I've been sharing stories with this community makes me wildly emotional. I didn't know how much I missed of the life I left behind, and how much joy it brought me to share stories again.

Which is why it was SUPREMELY FRUSTRATING to have that shitty little voice pulverize my productivity and excitement over something as silly as interaction. But I'm sure most of you know how hard it is to get that voice out of your head. I worked to write things I found fun and less stressful than the series I already felt bad for not updating. And while I still love those stories, it felt like I was pulling them from an inauthentic place and finishing them wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped.

Thus the hiatus! I stopped writing and turned my attentions to consuming and creating in other ways. I watched some shows I'd been meaning to catch up on, started planning to buy a house, worked my butt off at the day job. And I was starting to feel like inspiration was coming back. I didn't want to spook it so I took my time and promised myself I was going to start small and not stress about getting stories out for a bit.

Top that off with some medical surprises, an upcoming surgery, and a little re-evaluation of life moving forward and things have been wild. But I've been missing the daily joy I get from being part of this fandom, and I'm getting back into being here more because I miss you guys! AND! I have stories I want to share and fun to be had. So let's shake off all the heavy shit and get to the fun stuff!

WHAT'S NEXT!

The big thing I'm getting ready to post (after teasing it for so long) is the 2024 Bangathon! This one is different from last year's because instead of requesting stories from me, the Bangathon is open to anyone who wants to participate! There will be a randomizer to play with, and some fun bonuses for those who participate. The announcement will be coming out soon, stay tuned!

As for fics, here are some updates on what's in my WIPs:

Series:

I Think of You: I spent some time rewatching Mando for the newest installment, and I've finally gotten the thread of where to go next thought out. It's been a long time coming so this one's gonna be BEEFY to make up for it.

SW!Frankie: I am crushed to realize it's been over a year since I posted any SW!Frankie! I've got a new story about him and Ms J moving in together I need to finish, then some more asks that are getting into new story arcs I'm excited to share!

Best Laid Plans: Dieter and Murch's first date is bouncing around in my head and I NEED to get it on paper. There's much fun to be had, and I've been binge listening to my playlist for them to get into the headspace.

Midnight Alley: I got all up in my own head about continuing the story with these two and lost a little steam, so I'm going to ease off my "big plans" and start smaller with some oneshots instead. I think it'll help me find out where I want this story to go.

One Shots in Progress:

Decoherence Follow-Up

Incubus!Dieter Ask

You know, laying it out like that makes it feel much more manageable than my brain was telling me! I'm also planning to prioritize more fic reading while I'm getting these updates in ship-shape. Reading your stories always helps get my creative juices flowing, and there are so many good ones lingering in my TBR list that I need to devour.

This has been a rollercoaster of emotions, so thank you for coming on the ride with me. I'm excited to bring more of myself back to Tumblr and have fun with all of you again! To many more stories!

[merlinfromberlin]

Numb Little Bug - Chapter 1

I haven't shared an new story/story updates here for a while, but I did something and I like it.

Summary:

The feeling was already there when it became aware of life for the first time. It was eternally graceful and wise. The feeling would still be there long after its awareness of life had faded for the last time. It was eternally graceful and cruel. Or: When Primus created a newspark to save the life of its Prime, he did not expect his little puppet to survive its first mission. However, when the sparkling is surprisingly saved through the capable servos of a certain, grumpy medic, the god is not opposed either. Instead, he recognizes this as his opportunity to influence and ultimately end the War on Cybertron through his creation—no matter the cost. Or, put more crassly: A retelling of Transformers Prime with Bumblebee as Primus’ puppet.

Chapter: 1/7 Wordcount: roughly 10.5k words.

Short excerpt below the cut:

The feeling was already there when it became aware of life for the first time. It was eternally graceful and wise.

The feeling would still be there long after its awareness of life faded for the last time. It was eternally graceful and cruel.

When its optics flickered online for the very first time the feeling was already rooted deep within its little spark, waiting for it to arrive. You are late, guardian, it welcomed the new life to the desolate wasteland of a planet before its processor had even finished its full booting routine. We will have to hurry and adjust.

The world it had awoken in was grey and slowly dying. It did not yet know, but far, far above it, the sky was, too.

Sluggishly, it turned its helm to the side, programmes and subroutines adjusting only slowly to the cruelly overwhelming sensations of becoming alive.

What little light the blue glimmer of the big, but dim sphere above it provided was barely enough to illuminate its immediate surroundings. Soon, even that little glimmer would fade and perish, too. How it knew that, it could not say. The Allspark had been dying for far longer than it had been alive, after all.

After a while the feeling in its spark urged it to get up and so it did.

Its first steps were unsteady and clumsy. When it tripped over its own pedes and fell, there was no one there to catch it. Sharp metal ripped a burning cut into its servo as it failed to catch itself. The energon that oozed down its digits was enticingly blue and vibrant, burning brighter than the dying chamber it was trapped in.

Hush, the feeling in its spark said as it closed the wound in its servo, urging it back onto its pedes with insistent prods. Go on now. You need to find him.

The feeling led it through huge, echoing hallways and chambers that had not borne witness to life in many orns. Thus, the walls often leaned in to take a closer look at it before helping the feeling to usher it along, rolling debris and obstacles out of its way. Everything here, alive or not, knew of the importance of obedience to the feeling in its spark.

It got hungry long before it reached the feeling’s intended goal. Hunger was a curious sensation, it decided after marching on for awhile. At first it had only nagged shyly at the bottom of its tanks, easily dismissed in favour of its orders. With time, however, it had grown into a monster intent to devour its insides whole. It hurt and it didn’t know how to make it stop.

Hush, the feeling in its spark spoke as it blew a wave of numbness across its tiring frame. Tiredness… that was new, too. It’s going to be over soon.

At some point or another, its pedes started hurting, too. It just walked on, down paths that had never had something like it in mind when they had been built lifetimes ago.

Finally, the hallway in front of it opened up into a chamber. Despite the feeling’s constant nagging to go on, it couldn’t help but stop the moment it could make out the sheer size of the room in front of it. The structures it had been wandering ever since it first woke up had already been large, but this hall’s dimensions simply defied its comprehension. It could barely make out the rounded wall on the other side of the hall. Distantly it wondered who this might have been made for. Not it in any case.

Climb, instructed the feeling in its spark. It stumbled forward a few steps with the force of the order. Only when its gaze followed the direction of the push up, up, up the rounded walls did it notice that the enormous hall was actually an enormous hole, opening up to a grey sky what felt like lifetimes of height above its helm.

Climb, commanded the feeling again and so it started climbing. It was the only thing to do for a numb little thing like it.

When it finally pulled itself out of the Well, it collapsed in exhaustion. Warnings it could not yet comprehend flickered through its HUD but were dismissed easily enough at the command of the feeling in its spark. Then, only microcycle later, it was urged back onto its little pedes.

Hush now, little thing, commanded the feeling as it threaded impressions of a gentle but fierce giant clad in red and blue into its tiny processor. You are almost with him. He needs your help. Go now.

At some point its pedes started hurting again. Its tanks were hurting, too. And its optics. The feeling in its spark simply enveloped it in numbness, so it could walk and march and soldier on.

It knew immediately when it finally neared its destination because the feeling in its spark began to buzz excitedly in anticipation. In the distance it could just so make out two figures clashing in an intricate dance of blows, claws and blades. One of them was grey and terrible, the other was red and blue and awe-inspiring and losing.

The feeling in its spark quite happily confirmed the latter as the Prime it had been created to aid. You will save him. It is not yet his time to return to the Allspark.

It was continually ushered forward by the feeling, towards the fighting figures that slowly revealed themselves to be giants as it came ever closer to them. Quite suddenly, it realised that not only were they big, but it was also, more importantly, incomprehensibly small and quite insignificant in a world of mech larger than life.

Still, it soldiered on.

It had a mission to fulfil, after all.

Distract him. Now! ordered the feeling in its spark when it had finally stumbled close enough to the giants to be in danger of being squashed. Like a bug. Whatever a bug was. Despite its curious prods, its processor refused to elaborate beyond the simple word.

The feeling in its spark gently redirected its attention back to the fight and repeated its earlier order. Distract him so that the Prime can live.

It did not want to disappoint again so it did the first thing it could think of and simply jumped at the grey monster, scrambling desperately to cling to his mighty pede and pull his terrifying attention onto it.

Continue reading here: XXX.

[serensama]

Dr, Who?

Thursday Bangers - ongoing weekly prompts by the amazing @woundedsoul12 . I will be doing my best to create a story out of each lyric given to me and will be updating this post as we go along to keep it all in one place!

Read on Ao3

Prompts provided thus far:

I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me - "The Last of the Real Ones", Fall out boy

A hundred days have made me older since the last time that I saw your pretty face - Here without you, Three Days Grace

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all - Lover by Taylor Swift

I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice - Mercy by Shawn Mendes

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met- The night we met by Lord Huron

No matter what happens, he cannot come between us again I know we're better than friends- Million Dollar Baby by Tommy Richman

Baby, I'm so into you, darling, if you only knew, all the things that flow through my mind - Fantasy by Mariah Carey

And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow, You're the closest to Heaven that I'll ever be, And I don't wanna go home right now - Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls

All my friends we're glorious, Tonight we are victorious- Victorious by Panic! At The Disco

It's not a walk in the park to love each other, but when our fingers interlock, can't deny, can't deny you're worth it - Still Into You by Paramore

——— 

Lilya managed to catch herself before falling onto her face, pulling away from the insistent hands urging her to stay warm in bed. 

“Stop it! I have to go, I’m going to be late!” 

“Just call in sick!” 

“I have a really important- let go of my bra!- appointment.” 

“But I was hoping to get to know you more.”

“Yes, that would be lovely. But I have got to go-”

“What’s the address of your office? I want to take you out for lunch, seeing as we can’t have breakfast together.” 

“Oh um, yeah- sure. I’ll text it to you, see you then!” 

“Hey- wait-”

She didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence before bolting out of his apartment. It was only as she slid into the back seat of her uber that she realised she didn’t have his phone number. Or remembered his name. Curse Teia for calling her out to bitch and moan about her latest break up with Viago and bullying her into drinking all those shots. Before she knew it, her friend had drunk dialled her stepbrother and the two were back together and disappearing into a darkened corner of the upscale bar, leaving her alone with her phone, two abandoned shots and the arrival of a really, really attractive man who had no right to look as good in a suit as he did. 

She further cursed Teia for her buzz, the liquid courage in veins making her brave enough to give voice to her curiosity if he looked as good out of the suit as well. He was surprised, pleasantly so, but he confirmed that he would not be disinclined to help sate her inquisitiveness. 

The drinks remained abandoned. A text sent to Teia to let her know she was okay, along with a selfie to show her who she was leaving with- and the next thing she knew they were in a cab, with his lips on her neck and his hand up her skirt. So reckless. She hadn’t had a one night stand since her final year in university. This man however, was much more skilled than the football player she had left the bar with so many years ago. 

It was neither here nor there. It was just some fun, a great story to tell Teia and a fond memory of the sweet one night stand. Lilya rushed into her rooms and waved at her 11:00am appointment, patiently waiting for her with a kind smile. 

“I’m so sorry I was late! Please give me two seconds and I’ll be right with you!” 

——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— ——— 

She was right. It was an important appointment. Her patient had a breakthrough, understanding the complexities of what he had been through and knowing it was okay not to be okay with any of it, she almost cried with him as he broke down for the first time since he was a child. They booked in a time to see each other the following week and she was so damn proud of him, she asked if he would be adverse to a hug. 

“If you asked me two years ago? I’d have said no. But today? After that- with you?” He smiled, opening his arms out awkwardly like a robot whose arms weren’t oiled enough, creaking from the strain. 

Lilya smiled at her receptionist who had a warm expression on her face at the heartfelt interaction. The man had come leaps and bounds into himself since he’d started seeing her. 

“Cousin? Are you alright?” 

Lilya looked up, stiffening as she pulled out of the friendly embrace. She turned and saw the face of the man she literally ran out on, fresh as a daisy, and her in her day old clothing and with his cologne still on her skin. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Well. Closer to being fine anyway, thanks to Dr. de Riva here,” Lucanis grinned at her, pushing her toward the door to meet his cousin. “Dr de Riva, this is my cousin, Illario. I’ve spoken about him before.” 

Lilya paled and swallowed, nodding at the taller man who was staring at her in shock. 

“She… she’s your doctor?” 

“This is… Illario?” 

Lucanis smiled and encouraged the two to shake hands, completely oblivious to the weird tension that came upon the two most important people in his life. 

“Um… nice to meet you doctor… Lucanis has told me so much about you,” Illario said, finally finding his tongue. He held out his hand and waited for her to take it. 

Lilya blinked at it and only forced out of her daze when her receptionist cleared her throat. “Um, yes. Yes, of course! Hello- nice to meet you too, Illario.” 

He smiled at her widely, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. 

“Lucanis has told me all about you, too.” 

His smile faltered. 

Shit. 

——— 

Just over three months. Just three. And his cousin still would not forgive him. 

For the third time that week, Illario had tried to visit Lucanis and beg for his forgiveness. How could he have possibly known that the woman he randomly met at a bar and had sex with was his therapist? He had never met the woman before! Would that have made him stop? No. But he would have at least had a definite pause before doing what he did. There would have been a pause! Unfortunately, his cousin did not appreciate the ‘theoretical pause’ and slammed the door in his face once again. 

Because of their little interlude, the doctor- Lilya de Riva ( which he only found out after a thorough thrashing he got from his cousin) - had cancelled all upcoming appointments with Lucanis, saying some ridiculous thing about her not being able to ethically treat him moving forward and that there could be no room for bias and whatnot… She then referred him to an Associate Professor Emmrich Volkarin, told him that he was famous in their field and she even studied under him. That he was so renowned that his patients swore he was so perceptive that he could hear thoughts they didn’t dare speak, giving them agency to find real acceptance and peace. Even with all that, his cousin was furious at the situation. At him.  “I trusted her, Illario! She was a confidante, someone I could talk to about anything without judgement or worry she was trying to find an angle to exploit. She was opening doors I had long thought were closed off and you, you slammed them all shut again!” 

He had punctuated that particular discussion with another slam of the door. 

And people thought he was dramatic. 

Illario sighed and left the cup of coffee from Cafe Pietra on the welcome mat and walked back down to the town car waiting for him. It had been three months since Lucanis had joined him going to and from work. Three months with Caterina hounding him to ‘fix his cousin’. Three months since he had last seen her. 

Illario raised his eyebrows in a quick thank you to his chauffeur for opening the door and slipped into the corner of the seat, his right knee perched upon the leather upholstery without Lucanis frowning at him to move his damn leg. He took a sip of his lukewarm coffee and tried to forget about the pretty girl smiling at him at the bar. Bright green eyes, long raven hair and a grin that could light up even the darkest corners of a club. 

He had every intention of chatting her up on his own and then she giggled and picked him up. Illario was suddenly very grateful for the company car breaking down that had caused him to wait at the nearest establishment to kill time before his taxi came. The girl wasn’t after his money, not by the expensive suit she wore or by the wallet full of cash and black credit card he spied when she paid her tab. She didn’t know his name, and she had clearly already been there for a long time before him which meant she wasn’t hanging out trying to catch him specifically. 

No, this woman just thought he was attractive, and that was really attractive to him. 

Illario scoffed at himself as he finished off his coffee, wincing at the last of the tepid liquid. He was being stupid. It was a one night stand, he had had so many before, he didn’t know why this one refused to leave him. He’d find himself thinking about it whenever his mind wandered- in between his grandmother nagging him, his cousin berating him, his constant responsibilities within their company- she’d slip right in, uninvited. 

He’d remember her laughter, the way she kicked off her designer shoes without a care and didn’t complain at the bites and marks he left on her body. The way she seemed so in sync with him even though they’d barely said a word to each other- it was madness that he was hung up on her, acting like she was someone he had a relationship when for all intents and purposes, he probably wouldn't be able to identify her in a line up if pressed. 

You’re such a bad liar, you can’t even lie to yourself. Pathetic. 

He banged his fist against the door, ignoring the way the driver looked up at him in the rearview mirror. His memories of her were more vivid than any of his other flings or so called relationships. Knew how small her hands were compared to his, the feel of the skin on her neck, the heat of her curled against his body when she slept. He could barely remember Zara and he had dated her for more than two years. Illario groaned at the thought of the heinous witch, thanking the universe for allowing him the clarity to let that woman go when he did. Poison. That was what she was. He should have listened to Lucanis when he told him as much. 

Then he met her. Miss- no, Doctor, Illario, respect her accomplishments-- Doctor de Riva and he was reduced to a sad, pining mess. He had tried to talk to her, to speak on behalf of his cousin to continue treating him, and when she refused to take his calls at her office, he was relegated to speaking to her perky secretary who said she was unable to speak to him and to leave him number and she would return his call. She never did. He just wanted to talk to her. Prove to himself that he was just imagining things and there wasn’t anything special there, that he wasn’t missing out something he had long convinced himself was not for people like him. At least not when Caterina had planned out both his and Lucanis’ lives to a tee. Butterflies in his stomach and fluttering hearts for pretty girls with a smile he still dreamed about were not things his grandmother cared about. 

The car stopped and Illario checked over his reflection, double taking when he thought he saw the beginnings of a grey streak on his temple, breathing easier when he realised it was just a smudge on the window. All the stress he was under was not good for him. 

It was probably best for him to try to find a therapist. 

And he knew just the one he wanted to speak to. 

——— 

The car door swung open and Illario stepped out, ensuring he took the dossier he had been studying for the last four days before his meeting with the Cantori Family, the largest entertainment agency in the country. Nights spent poring over their figures for the last ten years and dismantling their biggest wins and losses had left him exhausted, but he was prepared and knew that this partnership would be of benefit to both their companies- and maybe then Nonna dearest would finally get off his back. Until she found something new to bug him about. Or remember something old. She wasn't picky when it came to busting his balls. 

The elevator opened and a familiar, sickly sweet scent assaulted his nose, his mouth twisting with obvious distaste. He hadn't smelled that perfume since- 

Fucking fuck on a fucking cracker. 

“... Zara.”

She was like a demon or something. If he said her name or thought about her enough times, she would be summoned to haunt him forever. 

“Amatus!” she squealed, bopping on the spot in her excitement to see him. “It has been so long, why have you not returned any of my calls?” Illario turned to his driver and stopped him from coming with him, not wanting another person to be subjected to whatever she had planned. He needed to have a long chat with their security team. How they could have missed a psychopath in their building waiting around in an elevator, riding it for goodness knows how long obviously waiting for someone was beyond him. Someone’s head was going to roll for the oversight. Preferably Zara’s, but he was too pretty to face prison over the likes of her. He stepped into the elevator, his skin already crawling from the idea of spending more than 20 floors in her company in such a confined space with her specific brand of bat-shit crazy. 

“Oh, I don't know why, Zara. Maybe because we broke up eight, no, nine months ago! How do you keep getting my numbers? I’ve changed it five times!” She pouted as if she didn’t hear him, which was probable, the woman only ever heard what she wanted to and whenever she heard otherwise- she would do everything in her power to change it. And whether he liked to admit it or not, the Renata family was powerful, holding too much stock in the Venatori venture capitalist group- almost making the wench untouchable. Almost. 

“Silly boy. You know my brother Calivan likes to keep tabs on everyone for me. I’ve left so many messages and still you won't call. Are you still playing hard to get?” His hand gripped around the folder, papers wrinkling under his hold. “I have not placed a restraining order on you Zara, out of respect for your family and your position, but if you do not stop this, I will do it. I have no qualms about dragging your ass through the dirt if it means you will finally leave me and my family alone.” Zara’s sweet smile turned sour, her top lip curling into the same sneer she made when he broke up with her. The smaller woman pushed him into the back wall of the elevator, pressing her body against his as if that were enough to coax him back to her bed. The witch had him convinced that she cared for him, that she wanted him to reach his full potential, and would help him to be the one Caterina chose to succeed her. He didn’t want to listen to Lucanis who tried to tell him she had attempted to seduce him and when rejected by his cousin, she went to him. He tried to tell him that she was obsessed with the Dellamorte family since university, and she didn’t care if she got in through either of them. There was something grander afoot than either of them knew but Lucanis knew they should not get into bed with Zara, and definitely not with the Venatori. But Illario was always stubborn. And it took almost allowing some Venatori executives to strong arm their way into their inner sanctum for him to wake up and realise that his cousin was right (he was always right, he was Lucanis ‘Maker-Blessed-and-can-do-no-wrong’ Dellamorte.) 

Zara dragged her blood red nails along his neck, her mouth too close to his for his comfort. “Don't deny me, Illario,” she cooed, pressing her hips into his, “we were together for three years-”

“-Two! We've been broken up for nearly a year!-” “-what we have is special. No-one knows you like I do. No-one understands you and what you crave like me. No-one can love you… not like I can.” Illario swallowed. She never learned. Always using his insecurities against him and trying to make him believe he was the lesser Dellamorte. But he had learned better. Even met someone who seemed to click with him, more than he ever expected to with such a brief meeting. It wasn’t just the sex, though the sex was… the sex had been something else, but the way they held each other through the night, the wordless way they knew what the other needed and the genuine way she smiled at him- like she'd always known him- it was like she was literally dreamed to existence just for him. “Ahh, see, I knew it! There’s the Illario I know and love. Always up and ready- I knew you still wanted me. Loved me. You will for the rest of your life,” she grinned, incorrectly assuming his hardening cock was because of her. Her long fingers trailed down his body and he wanted to be ill, the feel of her touching him forcing every hair on his body to rise in revulsion. 

He pushed back firmly, keeping his hand between them to ensure she stayed away. “I don’t love you. I don’t want you. This was just my body reacting to the thought of someone I actually desire.” She scoffed, her pretty features darkening with jealousy. “You’re not with anyone else- there’s no way you’ve moved on from what we had. What we have!” The elevator bell rang and the doors opened to the top floor, reserved only for his family’s offices. “There was nothing then, nothing now and nor will there ever be, leave or you will be escorted out!” he snapped, walking out hurriedly, hoping to escape her. “Don't you walk away from me Illario Dellamorte! You’d be nowhere without me, just some piddling paper pusher in your grandmother’s company behind your cousin. I made you someone!” she shrieked, eyes glassy, as if she could feel actual emotion. The god damned ghoul. 

He could not let that slide. His pride would not allow it. “Listen here you knuckle dragging thundercunt. I was always someone. And I am better for not having you in my life, you are nothing but rot. Anything you touch is infected with it. It took me long enough to realise that you were killing me from the inside out- I will never want you. And if by some horrible luck I do think of you, it will only be with regret, for losing two years of my life beside a disease parading around in human skin. Get. Out.”

Illario felt lighter than he had in months releasing that tirade upon his bloody ex. Did she deserve it?... Eh, kinda. But he had been so pent up for the last couple of months he had to unleash it on someone. Who better than her?! “No, I don’t accept this!” she cried out, her heels clicking on the floor behind him. “You’re just upset, it’s okay. We can talk it out and we’ll be stronger, Amatus, you’ll see. I was just angry and said some things I didn’t mean. Of course you were, are, someone. I wouldn’t want to be with you if you weren’t.” 

That’s even worse, you daft bitch.

“I’ve told you. I’ve moved on! I don’t want you anywhere near me, her or my family- do you understand?” he called out over his shoulder, ignoring the worried looks from the PA’s scattered around the floor. “Fletcher, get security on the line. Get this woman escorted out immediately. She is not to be allowed near the premises, understood? And set up a meeting with the de Acutis’- I want to know how she even got in!” “Yes, Illario. Right away,” they answered, automatically picking up the phone. Zara rushed over to Fletcher's desk and tore the handset from their hand and slammed it back down, earning an unimpressed glare from them. “Great, now I’ll have to disinfect my phone.” 

The woman skittered after Illario, cursing after one of her heels snapped from under her, calling out to him as she collected herself. “There’s no one else. Stop lying to me. If you want me to apologise, I’ll apologise. Don’t just cut me out of your life for no good reason!”  He almost turned around again, too tempted to strangle her with his bare hands, until he saw her. Same long, dark hair. Creamy skin and bright eyes. Mercy, he could see the green of them from where he stood. She was standing outside his office, looking far too tempting in a simple shift dress and heels than she probably meant to.

“Mr Dellamorte, I hope you forgive my intrusion, but my assistant refused to continue working for me unless I managed to stop you from calling my rooms,” she explained, her arms linked behind her back, pushing her chest forward and creating the most alluring line of curves down her body. “Would you have a minute to spare for me?”

He spied Zara turning the corner, hissing his name.

Illario looked back to Lilya, who was looking at the crazed, hobbling woman coming toward them with a furrowed brow, confusion and apprehension apparent on her beautiful face. He handed the dossier to a nearby assistant and turned back to his unexpected guest, flashing her with what he hoped was a charming, but apologetic grin.

“Certainly. I’ll even give you two minutes. But until then, I pray you forgive me, Doctor.”

And before she could ask what she needed to forgive him for, he promptly pulled her into a kiss.

——— 

Her lips were softer than he remembered. Plush and smooth as he moved his mouth over hers. He had intended for it to be a long, chaste peck, but then she kissed him back. Tentatively at first, like she was shy, until she felt his tongue lick at the seam between her lips, and she responded in kind. Illario couldn’t believe his luck when her arms linked around his neck, and she stepped closer to him, her hips pressed against his own. 

If he were being completely honest, he had totally forgotten that she-beast Zara was still in the room. That was, of course, until she grew a second head and started screeching out of it. Or at least that's what it sounded like. 

“Illario Dellamorte! Who the hell is she?!” she shrieked, stomping her way closer to them. Much to his surprise, Lilya stepped beside him and held his hand, an action that Zara did not miss, causing even more unpleasant, indignant noises to erupt from her. “How could you do this to me?” 

Lilya looked up at Illario, a wary expression on her face as her eyes darted between him and Zara. “I… I’m not sure what’s going on here. Illario, who is this woman?” 

Seeing as he was probably already going to be killed by Dr de Riva as it was, he didn’t see the problem in dying a second time over if it meant that he’d finally get the crazy ex off his back. Besides- if he was going to hell, he may as well enjoy the descent as much as he could. He hushed her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders protectively, drawing her into his side. His other hand smoothed down her long locks and held her face tenderly, concern playing across his handsome features. 

“Lilya? Mi Amor- are you okay?” 

Oh, he was asking to be kicked in the balls by this woman. When they finally got to speak to each other alone, it would just be two minutes of her just kicking the shit out of him. 

She blinked but recovered quickly and nodded, her small hands curling into the lapels of his navy overcoat as though she were nervous, or possessive, or both. He had to hand it to the doctor; she quickly cottoned on to what he needed from her and played her part well, considering she had only witnessed the brief interaction between him and Zara. Another pang of guilt hit him for being the cause of his cousin’s no longer being able to be treated by her, but it was almost worth it to see Zara almost go full exorcist mode. He only hoped she wouldn’t start puking up pea soup all over the carpet. Caterina had insisted on the white carpet and would be terribly put out to see it stained. 

Zara yelled out his name again, and he ignored her, captivated by the clear green irises that were staring up at him. He’d dreamed of her eyes for weeks, seeing them up close and in the light of day, he knew he’d be dreaming of them for many more. When he continued to disregard her, the woman rifled through her bag and threw her phone at his face. If he hadn’t been eye fucking the pretty doctor in his arms and been in the right state of mind, he might’ve stepped aside - but instead, he was beaned right on the corner of his eye. Say what you would about Zara, the bitch could aim. 

“Fuck. That was meant for you, you homewrecking whore!” 

Then again, maybe not.  

“Hey, ‘Lario, can you see me? How many fingers am I holding up?” she asked, her tone serious, with two fingers held up in front of him. He answered, and she smiled, wincing at what she knew was going to be one hell of a shiner. Once she was satisfied that he wasn’t in any immediate danger, she stepped out in front of him, like she was the one protecting him. 

“I am not a homewrecking whore. You are just a woman who can’t come to grips with reality. This man does not want you-” 

“You’re wrong!” 

“I assure you, I am not.” 

“Illario isn’t seeing anyone. He’s just doing this to make me feel bad for the rough patch we’ve had-” 

Lilya scoffed, a cold, heartless noise he would have never thought would come out of her. He almost got hard just thinking about her being so ruthless. Fuck… maybe he really did need to see a therapist. Who the hell in their right mind got off on that? 

“My dear Miss… Zara, was it?” Lilya asked, knowing full well what the woman’s name was. “You said that throw was for me; I suggest you leave with the kind security guards heading our way now- lest I show you the damage proper aim can do. And trust me, I never miss a target.” 

Yep. He was hard. He was going to go to hell with an erection and a stupid grin on his face, and he didn’t even care. He pulled Lilya back and held her waist from behind, placing a kiss to her temple as he kept his eyes on Zara, the security doing their best not to manhandle the irate woman, knowing who she was. 

“I told you, Zara,” he began, curling his arms around her in a full embrace, “I’ve moved on. We’re over. You have no business with me, her or the company, so you must leave the premises. If you are seen here again, without express invitation from me or my family, I will press charges. Do you understand?” 

The woman stood still, her shoulders heaving up and down from her heavy breaths and glared at him. If he didn’t know better, it felt like he was being hexed by her stare alone. She didn’t answer him; instead, she pulled her arms free from the guards’ loose hold and walked out of the office, security following closely to ensure she was escorted from the building. 

Illario sighed deeply once Fletcher confirmed they had gone into the elevators, and the rest of the office returned to their business as normal, only a few people shooting him and the random woman curious glances as they continued working.  Lilya turned around and tenderly touched the reddened area around his eye socket, flinching empathetically when he did. She went to his EA’s desk and kindly asked if it was possible to get some ice and ibuprofen for him, and then led him into his own office. After surveying the layout, she determined that the couch was the best place for him to sit and gently helped him to it - not that he was unable to do so himself, but he found that he didn’t mind being led or cared for. It had been years since anyone who wasn’t Lucanis had looked out for him. 

...Had anyone apart from Lucanis ever looked out for him? 

He was lost in thought when a cold punch hit him in the face, and he exclaimed, shaken free from his downward spiral. 

“Oh, stop being such a baby, it’s only ice,” she soothed, a wry smile playing at her lips. Right. Those lips. Sinful, pouting, pliant - “So, I’m going to assume that was your ex? Clingy? Unable to understand that you’re broken up? Obsessive? She needed to see you with another woman to move on, so you used someone she didn’t know in the heat of the moment to get your point across, which just so happened to be me. Am I close?” 

“Yes, yes. You’re a genius and a good judge of character…” he grinned, grimacing for a second when his eye smarted. To her credit, she only smiled briefly at his pain and continued icing his injury. “Correct, Mr. Dellamorte, on all fronts,” she whispered, holding his gaze. “So that begs the question you should be asking…” “And what is that, Doc?” he chuckled, ignoring the pain in his cheek. It was easy to do so when he could easily smell the perfume that had long faded from his bedsheets, warming the air around him. 

“What does my impeccable judgement tell me about you?”  His smile faded. Hers grew. 

“I’m not going to like what you say next, am I?” he groaned playfully, taking over the icing duties, instantly mourning the loss of her touch. She sat back on the couch and laid her hands on top of each other on her lap, the woman he held in his arms retreating behind her professional facade once more. Suddenly, his attraction to her ability to smoothly switch to callousness dimmed when it was focused on him. 

“Probably not, no. I think now that… the debacle outside has played out… it is time I take those two minutes you promised me.” “Well, you’ve certainly earned them.” “Well done, me,” she retorted with a smile so sharp it could cut him in two. “You need to stop calling my office. My poor assistant, Bellara, has threatened to quit if she hears your voice on the other end of the phone one more time.” Illario raised his left hand in surrender. “Scouts honour, no more calls to your office.” 

“You’re meant to raise your right hand for that,” she clicked her tongue with faux disappointment, a shadow of the warm smile he could look at for hours playing across her mouth. 

“I’m injured, take pity,” he pouted, earning him an earnest laugh. She motioned for him to remove the ice pack, and she leaned in to inspect his face, so close he could just kiss her again, but she retreated as quickly as she came. 

“Hmm... shan't. For it is my expert opinion that you will, in fact, live. Congratulations, Mr. Dellamorte, you can continue being the best-dressed rake this side of town.” “Ouch. That one hurt, Doc. Isn’t your first rule to do no harm?” “Helping you take your ego down a peg or two is not doing harm. It’s a kindness to the rest of the world. I should get a medal,” she stated audaciously. “So now that we’ve confirmed that you are, in fact, not dying, and you’ve promised that you will no longer politely harangue my assistant, I shall bid you a good day. I leave with the sincere recommendation for you to please get examined by a doctor, especially if your symptoms get worse.” 

Illario cleared his throat, his grin already telling Lilya exactly what he was going to say next. 

“You’re a doctor. Please feel free to examine me once again, as thoroughly as needed. Doctor’s orders and all that.” 

She laughed again, her head thrown back like she hadn’t laughed in years. 

“You know what, sure. I could do that,” Lilya positioned herself between his legs and bent down until they were face to face, her hand supporting his chin, thumb unconsciously caressing his freshly shaved jaw. “Hmm, you’re right, you do need a follow-up. You should call my office and… oh wait… You can’t. What a shame. Good day, Mr. Dellamorte.” 

She tipped his chin back gently with a wide grin and sauntered off, completely aware that he was watching each step she took out of his office, and what she assumed was out of his life. But if there was one thing Illario Dellamorte knew, it was whether a deal would be worth the risk and effort it took to pursue, and Lilya de Riva was exactly the kind of risk he wanted to take.  

——— 

Did she have to swing her hips from side to side as she walked out of his office? No. Did she want to turn back around and just give in to it all, climb on top of him, and make out like rabid teenagers for the rest of the day? Maybe let him get to third base a little? Yes. Yes.

Should she have? 

Absolutely not. 

Things were already messy, and the last thing anyone needed was for her to complicate things further. She had gotten what she wanted from her visit, which was that Illario would cease contacting her rooms. However, a part of her was going to miss Bellara coming into her office with an assortment of Post-its, all dated with slightly different, but inherently similar messages from him scrawled on them. 

‘Sorry about everything, Doc. Please give me a call so I can apologise to you properly.’

‘I didn’t mean to mess up my cousin’s treatment with you- for what it’s worth, you did help him. I feel terrible. Please let me make it up to you, because he certainly won’t let me make it up to him.’

‘Hey Doc, don’t know if your assistant is actually giving you any of these. If she is, would you mind calling me back just so I know that you have some competent help there? I can always send you a new PA as an apology for everything.’

It was the last message that had Bellara threatening to quit if she didn’t get Illario in line. Still, good help was hard to find, and Bellara had so much promise that she wanted to ensure she had the best leg up - and that was made possible by working with her. Bellara was able to access resources that the average student didn’t have, browsing through exclusive online journals and textbooks between her patient’s visits. She also found it much easier to study in her quiet rooms with little distraction. Lilya shuddered to think how difficult it would be if she were working at the mall or in a restaurant. 

But still… she shouldn’t have let herself get swept up in the whirlwind that was Illario Dellamorte. Allowing herself to play along with that charade to free himself from his jilted ex-lover was careless of her… she didn’t do chaotic, and yet there she was diving headfirst into the trash heap that was his life. 

Oh that was judgemental. You can’t base his entire character on what Lucanis said about him; you know better. You should know better! 

She hailed a taxi and slid in, sighing with disappointment at herself. She was a doctor, a psychiatrist, a damned good one - but she was human too. There was no denying there was something unexplainable about whatever connection they shared. It wasn’t love at first sight by any means, but it ran deeper than just lust. Though… When he kissed her earlier, it took everything in her not to pull him onto the nearest desk and demonstrate to the entire office just how over Zara he well and truly was. 

Lilya grumbled at herself, squeezing her hands tightly to get a hold of herself. It wasn’t like her to fantasise about a man, especially a man she had a one-night stand with. He was her equivalent of an earworm, hearing his voice when she was in bed, always when she was just about to fall asleep - his grunts, his moans, the rasp deep in his throat when he asked if she was close and - no. She had spent too much time recalling that one night to help her get through the lonely evenings, and she was a little scared that she had become dependent on him, dependent on the memories of him. 

That was why she theorised that seeing him in person may be the end to all her worries. She would see that he was just a man, and her mind was likely inflating him to impossible heights to help her get off. 

But then he came in with his perfect hair, tanned, broad and dripping with confidence and charm- and then he kissed her. 

All the feelings came rushing back to her against her will. The time she spent in the arms of a man who seemed to read her mind and fulfil every carnal need she had, someone who appeared to be genuinely excited to get to know her, rather than just being relieved to see her getting dressed and running out of his life. What was holding her back? It wasn’t expressly forbidden to see him now that his cousin was no longer her patient, but it felt so unethical to even think about it. She wouldn’t hurt Lucanis any more than he had already been. It was why she hadn’t returned his calls; she didn’t think she was strong enough to say no to him again. 

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she looked down to see a text appear. 

“My fucking meeting was postponed until next week. Tell me something good?”  

Teia. She had told her about this meeting and said that it would be life-changing; there was no doubt her friend was annoyed it had been delayed. “Good? No patients today. Probably staying at home and eating whatever is not growing mould in my fridge and pretending I’m not two seconds away from adopting all the cats and dogs at my local pound so I can complete my transition into a hermit with an army of pets.” 

Her reply was instantaneous, and forced Lilya to stifle a giggle in the back seat of the cab. 

“Nice. If you find a small dog that will terrorise your brother for me, please let me know. I’m so sick of his damn obsession with his snake.” 

“Please tell me that’s not a euphemism for his penis.” “... Then I guess we should change the topic.”

“I’m going to stop talking to you now.” 

Lilya was about to put her phone into her bag when she was reminded of the phone that was hurled at Illario’s handsome face and how warm and smooth his skin was under her hands. She flicked herself as hard as she could, yelping at the sting and ignoring the way the driver gave her some wicked side eye. She was going to go home and forget the day had happened at all, and just watch a random show as she doom scrolled on her phone. A day of self-care. One that did not include illicit thoughts of a certain tall, gorgeous man with the bluest eyes she had ever seen and fucked like a demon- at this rate, she, her dirty little memories and her recently charged friend in her nightstand were going to have another sordid interlude. 

No. 

She pulled out her phone and opened up a new message. 

“Neve… do you feel like coming out with me tonight? Anywhere you want.” 

If one random encounter got her this way… perhaps another random encounter with a completely different person would help her exorcise him from her life. 

“How about The Diamond? I’ve heard good things about it. Bit up market, nothing like The Swan back home, so it’s right up your alley. I was going to meet someone there tonight. Did you want to meet up with us there?” 

The Diamond. That was where she met Illario in the first place. Well, maybe that was where she could leave him behind. 

——— 

She had to ask herself again if she was heading down a self-sabotaging spiral. She had spent an embarrassing amount of time getting herself ready and choosing between which little black dress didn’t scream out ‘desperate’ but also didn’t say ‘prude’- and settled for the fitted mid-length, off the shoulder satin number, with a noticeable slit on the front of her thigh. Enough to tell people she was happy for them to look, but she wasn't going to provide the whole show without a little bit of effort from them. 

Lilya almost changed her mind three times on her way there, but she knew if she didn’t actively do something about her needs, she’d be compelled to do something stupid. She was a proponent of the phrase ‘physician, heal thyself,' and she wanted to believe that by tackling the problem head-on, it would finally get her back on track and leave the past behind her. She could call this foray into questionable decisions a part of her self-care regime, that finding someone willing to indulge her in a night of frivolity and hedonism, with no questions asked and no strings attached, would be a cure-all to her unending fantasies about a certain Casanova. 

The Diamond was infinitely busier than the last time she came with Teia. Bodies were pressed up against each other as the crowd tried to move to and from the dance floor and the bar; the bass of the song thumping so hard that she almost mistook it for her own heartbeat.

Lilya surveyed the club and managed to make out the familiar silhouette of her best friend at the corner of the bar, the bright lights that illuminated the benchtops, accentuating her sharp jaw and highlighting the white of her shirt. She giggled when she noticed she had also worn a fabulous (but ridiculous) fascinator to the club. Bless her. 

Neve, astute as always, turned just in time to see her across the room and raised her eyebrows in a subtle greeting. Lilya moved through the people and suddenly remembered why she had stopped going to places like this in her 30s. It was because she detested large groups of people. Add copious amounts of alcohol, lust and drugs, and they were a horde of mindless beasts looking for another creature to rut upon.

She paused when she realised that was also precisely what she had intended to do that night. Minus the excessive drugs and alcohol. Was that any better? Is being a carnally charged animal better when one wasn’t wasted? In her professional opinion?... Oh screw her professional opinion. She wasn’t out as Dr de Riva. She was just Lilya there. After one more ‘excuse me!’, she was able to find herself next to Neve, who quickly passed a shot glass that she downed without hesitation, causing her friend’s mouth to quirk into a sly smirk.

“I could have slipped something in that, you know.”

“As if you’d need it to get me into bed.”

“Touché.” 

“So, who were you meant to be meeting?”

“Already met him. He’s an informant of mine; he said he’d only meet here as he had some business to attend to, and I had to work around his schedule. Criminals these days, no bloody manners.”

Lilya stole the bottle of liquor Neve held and poured herself another shot, nursing the liquid in small sips. “And you thought dragging your poor defenceless civilian friend along was a great idea?”

Neve smirked, toying with her cigarette holder between her fingers, Lilya knowing her friend was probably itching for a smoke as she always did whenever she drank. “You? Defenceless? Miss ‘My brother is probably having me tailed’?”

Lilya groaned. Her stepbrother was the paranoid type, and ever since he took over the family business, he had become even more wary of the people she associated with. Telling her at every chance to be more cautious, to stop being so trusting, and to make sure to take tester kits wherever she went, to ensure the water they served wasn't poisoned. 

“He stopped doing that years ago.”

“He did?”

“Mhmm. I made one of his little spies cry and sent him back home with his tail between his legs. I told him I would do that to each and every person he sent.” 

“Fantastic. I’ll drink to that!”

“You’d drink to me just blinking.”

“And it wouldn’t even be the first time I did,” the detective smirked and raised her glass to her, rolling it along her cheek with the palm of her hand before deftly pouring the alcohol into her mouth. Neve tapped on the bar and pointed to both the ladies’ and smokers’ rooms, only waiting a moment for Lilya to shake her head before effortlessly disappearing into the crowd.

She poured herself the last of the Gran Patròn and smiled to herself. Neve was not one to normally spend so frivolously; even on a detective’s salary, she fed most of her money back into her community. This bottle alone would have cost her at least $700, and she had known this woman since university; that $700 was better served in Dock Town, not in the bottom of a toilet bowl after a night of binge drinking. Whoever her informant was, they were generous with both their intel and their money. 

Lilya turned around and leant against the bar, resorting to what she did whenever she was alone in public. She people-watched. She smiled at the group of young women out celebrating a bachelorette party. A lovely thing in the middle was dressed in white, wearing a plastic bejewelled tiara on her head and a satin sash across her body, with “bride to be” written in bright pink lettering. There was a large group of finance bros or lawyer types, all suited up and congratulating themselves on the deals they had closed, vying to be the most lavish amongst each other to prove something about the size of their bank accounts.

Then she happened to look across to where some of the semi-private booths were, and there was a man watching her intently, his shot glass halfway to his mouth. He smirked at her and raised his arm in a toast, and she joined him, about to drink, when he motioned for her to stop abruptly. She laughed and waited as the mysterious man had asked, doing her best to look quizzically at him, silently asking for permission to drink. He shook his head and wiggled the index finger of his free hand to her, Lilya almost hearing him tut at her. 

He stood up, to the disappointed cries of the party around him, and he waved them off, shouting back what she could only assume were obscenities for his friends to shut up. He made his way to her, with all the confidence and swagger of someone she knew she would be attracted to… then as he drew closer to her, his features became clearer under the brighter lights. 

He could have passed as another bloody Dellamorte. Same high cheekbones, a strong nose, and thick, dark, lustrous hair. He was bloody gorgeous. The sharp ring of their glasses snapped her out of her daze, to find him thoroughly enjoying having her undivided attention. 

“Sorry, it seemed a shame to miss an opportunity to share a toast with a beautiful woman,” he said, clinking his glass against hers once more.

Lilya sat up straighter, trying to think if she should entertain the wicked idea forming in her head. If she could not be with Illario Dellamorte, perhaps she could scratch the itch with someone who kinda - kinda really - looked like him and simulate some sort of closure that way. Was it healthy? Was it something she would recommend to one of her patients? Of course bloody not. But she was not her patient, and she was still human and fallible. There was nothing unethical about her sleeping with someone who looked like her former-patient’s cousin… if there was, god damn it, the ethics committees these days needed to get laid too. 

“Oh, you wanted a beautiful woman? You just missed her; she just went to the bathroom. But she’ll be back soon if you want to wait. Until then, you’re welcome to put up with the likes of me,” she smiled, gesturing to the empty seat next to her.

The stranger chuckled and shook his head, pointing at her cheekily. “Ah, you caught onto my game, I am so ashamed. I guess I should do the honourable thing and talk to you and get to know you, maybe even buy you a drink or two to make up for my terrible behaviour… Miss-?”

Lilya took a second to think about what she was about to do, weighing up the pros and cons of following through with her hormone-fuelled plan.

“Lilya,” she replied, her smile growing as his widened at learning her name. “And yes, a drink, or two, would be the very least you could do after humiliating me like that, Mister?”

“Another bottle of what she’s having,” he said offside to the bartender, who merely nodded dutifully. “And it’s Elek, pleasure to meet you, Lilya. Whatever you have in mind for me to undertake as an act of contrition, I would be more than happy to do,” he answered with such a honeyed tone she was already tempted to lick the side of his mouth to see if he tasted as sweet. “Buy you dinner? Achieve world peace? Cure cancer? Worship at your feet until you saw fit to let me stand again.” He poured her a glass. “Name it.”

He was probably a long-lost cousin of theirs. Their flirtier, wisecracking long-lost cousin. 

“And if I choose to never let you up from the floor? What then?” she asked teasingly, letting her eyes run up and down his body provocatively, leaving no room for interpretation of what she meant. 

It was his turn to pause as a light dusting of pink spread through his cheeks, which she knew had nothing to do with the amount of liquor he had imbibed that evening. “Well then,” he began, tipping his glass back faster than he should have to savour the taste of the sipping tequila. “I would hope that you would have mercy on me… and at least give me a pillow for my knees. I may look young, but these joints just aren’t what they used to be. I would hate for you to be distracted by the sound of them cracking. I’d have to start my apology all over again.” 

Lilya burst out laughing and took a sip from her glass. 

“Alright Elek, you have my attention. Tell me about yourself,” she smiled. 

---

Illario winced when a dull pain radiated through his cheek, the bruise slowly starting to darken from the pink it was earlier that day. If it were up to him, he’d be at home icing up his damn injury but once his grandmother had told him she had taken the liberty of rescheduling the meeting he had been in charge of - he wanted to scream. He stupidly thought for a second that she had done it out of concern for his well-being, wanting her grandson to get thoroughly checked out and ensure he was fine. But no, she wanted to be certain that he couldn’t potentially ruin the merger because he wasn’t of sound mind due to his injury and/or incompetence. Old witch probably assumed that he was going to go insane over seeing Zara again. He was half tempted to tell her to do it herself or wrangle his cousin to do it instead - but he bit his tongue. As they all did when it came to Caterina. 

“If you are so eager, go see Teia yourself. She told me in passing that she will be at The Diamond sometime tonight.” 

The last thing he wanted to do was go to the same damn club he met Lilya in, not when she was literally in his hands just 12 hours earlier. It would be like an exercise of torture, and as masochistic as he could get, even he wanted no part of it, given his current foul mood.

Illario moved easily past security and was instantly assaulted by the smell of harsh colognes and too-sweet perfumes, the din of too many people talking at once, and the pulsing lights threatening to trigger a migraine when combined with his smarting cheek. He didn’t even know if Teia was there yet; he was just forced to go and wait until she appeared. Thankfully, his EA had the presence of mind to call ahead and secure a private room for him to wait in and to be advised when she would arrive. He was about to be led through the club when he picked up a familiar laugh, cutting through the brief moment of silence between tracks being played, and after only hearing it that day, he could have placed it anywhere. 

He turned his head to the sound and craned his neck, dodging around the people walking between them. 

She was there.

Laughing. 

With another man. 

She leaned in a little too closely, her right arm upon the bar to support her, the man’s arm slung low around her waist. He watched as the cocky little shit pulled her closer and whispered something in her ear which made her laugh even harder, the psychiatrist almost falling backward. Thankfully, the idiot at least had decent reflexes and caught her, taking full advantage of the situation to press her against him. Illario could feel his stomach turn, his teeth clenching at the sight. He didn’t want to see this. Didn’t want to see her from the sidelines as some other guy was lucky enough to hold her and steal a kiss from her lips, when he knew it should have been him in his place.

Illario keenly observed the couple in their not-so-private moment, fighting against himself as to whether he wanted to retch at them deepening their kiss or if he wanted to go over and smash the man’s head into the bar… and then retch on him for good measure. From his vantage point, he could see her pull back, her lips slightly swollen and her cheeks flushed with colour. Lilya said something to her companion, and he nodded, taking her hand and guiding her onto the dance floor. His feet followed them without realising, the surprised voice of the club manager fading off into obscurity as he walked away from her, to see where that man had taken his favourite physician. 

The man had chosen a free space in the middle of the floor, surrounded by so many others moving to the rhythm. He lifted her hand and encouraged her to spin, circling his arms around her to stop her, both laughing heartily. With a move so smooth even Illario had to give him props, he spun her again so her back rested against his chest, the two just swaying to the music. Illario could feel himself sneer as the man trailed his nose down the line of her neck, and he could see her enjoying it; Illario could almost hear her breathy sighs in his ears. He fumed at the hands that weren’t his, exploring the curve of Lilya’s hips and thighs as he continued to whisper things to her she obviously approved of. Illario felt himself mirror her actions, biting his lip whenever she bit hers. 

He was screaming at himself for just gawking at them, even at his lowest, he would never stoop to being voyeuristic without the other person’s knowledge – yes, he was kinky, but he wasn’t a creep - when another woman came and tapped the man on the shoulder. She was as gorgeous as she was furious; even from where he stood, he could feel the ire emitting from her. Lilya’s dance partner said his quick goodbyes and obediently followed the woman off into a dark corner, where she had taken the man by the collar and was tearing into him quite obviously. He didn’t have to hear the conversation to know the woman was warning the man never to stray close to Lilya-or perhaps any other woman-again.  The cheating bastard should have known better. 

Lilya chuckled to herself and looked around, embarrassed, her expression unsure if she should stay dancing by herself or head back to the bar. Illario watched her enraptured as her thoughts crossed over her face for him to see, her bright eyes closing as she allowed herself to get back into the beat of the song, uncaring that she no longer had a partner to join her, just happy to dance on her own until someone else stepped in. Her hips rocked from side to side as her arms went up above her head as she bounced to the music, happily carving out her own little niche on the floor until her pretty eyes opened and landed directly on him. 

---

Lilya paused, frozen to the spot as the realisation of who she was looking at dawned on her. That was not Elek. Nor was it another man who merely resembled the one who had plagued her thoughts for the last three months. It was actually him. Somehow, he had known exactly where to find her, and he was looking at her as if she were his prey. She did not move as he stalked his way over to her, all fluid lines and smooth motions like the perfect predator. 

“You look like you’re about to leap on me, Mr Dellamorte. I don’t see any errant exes lurking here in the shadows you need saving from,” she teased when he was within earshot. “Have you managed to turn into some sort of animal in our hours apart? Have you come here on the prowl as the big bad wolf?” 

Maker, she was never going to drink again. She was a bloody menace to society. 

“Well, I’m certainly not your grandmother,” he said, with the same glint in his eye that fascinated her the first time they met. 

“I’d hope not. Otherwise, I’d have to ask how you managed to get your eyesight back, Abuelita- and that might make it weird,” Lilya smiled, her hand rubbing at his chest. 

Illario could not help but break into a grin when she did not pull away from him. “All the better to see you from across the room, my dear.”  

Feeling emboldened, he closed the distance between them so they almost touched and allowed his fingers to skim up her arms, unable to conceal his delight at the way she swallowed instinctively, goosebumps rising along the path he’d travelled. He could tell she was having another internal struggle, being so close to him, torn between what she should do and what she wanted to do. His hands somehow found themselves around her waist, thumbs lightly kneading into her, her eyes darkening as they focused on his mouth. 

“What… what large hands you have.” 

“All the better to feel more of you with… My dear,” Illario played along, chuckling amusedly. He could feel her relax in his hold, and he pressed his forehead to hers, relishing the physical closeness he seemed to share so easily with her - a force of chemistry or connection he had never felt with anyone. Lilya pulled back to scan over his features, her hands ghosting over his face, fingers tracing the shape of his lips until they pulled back into a wolfish grin. 

She licked her lips. So did he. Illario could feel her breathing pick up, shallow and fast. 

“My, my,” she whispered, her mouth slyly evading his whenever he tried to kiss her again, giggling softly as he growled with every missed attempt. “What big teeth you have.” 

Illario laughed so loudly that some of the other revellers turned around at the sound. His hands shifted to cradle her face, and he pressed a kiss to her hairline, tipping his mouth toward the shell of her ear to ensure his lips feathered against the delicate skin there. “Now, now, darling Lilya. You must remember just how well I can eat you… And if you don’t… I look forward to the chance to remind you.” 

Her eyebrows softly curved upward with want, a gasp falling from her lips as her desire took over her, and he waited. They were barely a whisper apart, and if she allowed it, he would be able to kiss her without any other pretence than simply wanting to. 

She nodded. 

Illario could feel her warm breath on him, eager to taste her lips again- 

“Honestly, Lilya. I leave you alone for ten minutes, and you manage to entangle yourself with not one, but two strange men? I don’t know if I should be worried, envious or proud?” 

Lilya was released from her wayward longing the moment she heard the other woman's voice and quickly stepped away from Illario; the club was still stifling, but the air around them had turned sharp, almost glacial by contrast. She muttered her apologies and used words like ‘inappropriate’, ‘inebriated’, ‘foolish’ and 'never again' before tottering away and linking arms with her friend, the latter giving him a long but entertained look as she led them out. 

Illario shoved his fists deeply into his pockets, unsure if he’d hit someone with how wound up he felt. He counted to ten and breathed, and then did it again before letting his hands fall to his sides and walking out of the club. He couldn’t sit there and mull over what had just happened; he’d drive himself insane. Lilya’s little retreat only poured fuel on the fire already raging inside him. Whatever it was they shared, it wasn’t one-sided. It wasn’t imagined. She wanted him just as much; he felt it in every look and every breath between them. His need for her grew into something fiercer, even more consuming. He had just been chasing her before. Now, she would feel what it meant to be truly hunted by him.

——— 

Neve was a patient woman; she would wait until Lilya was ready to talk before saying anything. She had to be willing to wait in her profession; not all cases were open and shut within a day. Unfortunately, some cases took months to crack. This latest stuff with Aelia and Dock Town… urgh… No. She was not going to think about that witch any more than she had to. The detective wrapped her arms around Lilya, who was lightly shivering in the evening air, the autumn chill biting through her even with the tequila swimming through her veins, the two women huddling together for warmth, reminding Neve of their late nights trawling through different clubs in their youth and never remembering to wear jackets. Apparently, neither had grown wiser as they grew older. 

Lilya pressed her cheek against Neve’s as she tightened her hold around her waist, desperate to siphon every bit of her friend’s body heat for herself, ignoring the way the taller woman laughed at her. “I can’t believe I did that, that was just so humiliating.”  Neve squeezed Lilya in return and comfortingly rubbed her back. “Oh, don’t worry, no one else noticed. Everyone’s too wrapped up in their own stuff to worry about anyone else.”  “But I know what I did, I’ll remember it,” she whined, burying her face in her friend’s collar. “Impulse control- gone. Reasoning- non-existent. Judgment- fucked from here to kingdom come. You should just put me in solitary for the next year and let me think about what I’ve done for a good long time, to make sure I don’t go terrorising random innocent people at night and try to mount them.”

Neve snorted and pushed away from Lilya, the latter moaning the loss of warmth instantly. “People, you say. Well, those particular people, you somehow managed to entangle yourself with, in the blink of an eye, looked mighty similar there, Lil. Seems you got yourself a type.” 

Lilya was half-tempted to stomp her foot like a petulant child, but she wasn’t quite that drunk yet. Sometimes she really hated Neve’s perspicacity and frankness; between her and Teia, she never had any peace. As good a reason as any to never let them hang out together. 

“Is this because of that night you spent with that guy a while back? I remember you telling me he was all god-like bone structure, a smile that made you feel like he was already inside of you and so beautiful it made you want to cry whenever you thought about him,” she ribbed, lighting a cigarette and checking her phone to see how long their Uber would be. Her eyes flicked back up to Lilya, who had turned a vivid shade of pink as she recalled their conversation one week after their encounter. 

“I told you that in confidence, whilst I was not exactly sober for your compassion, not for you to use as ammunition to call me out for fun at your leisure!” 

“…Do you even realise who you’re talking to here, Lil?” 

“I need new friends.” 

“You need to get over this little infatuation of yours.” 

“I was trying to, then you pulled the first guy away-”

“ He was my CI! A literal criminal, Lil!” 

“He was quite gentlemanly for a criminal.” 

“He’s a professional con-man.” 

“Who can kiss.” 

“The second one looked like he could, too-”

“He can.” 

Neve paused. She was certain that she had stopped her from kissing that other handsome stranger. How could she possibly know… “Shit. Lilya… that second guy. That’s the guy, isn’t it? The one you’ve been trying to get over.” Her silence was all the answer she needed; the detective cackled at her friend’s obvious discomfort. “Oh, this is too good. Better than any trashy stories from back home, I am positively living . Please continue, give Aunty Neve all the sordid details of how he found you here and what you would have done if I hadn’t interrupted you. Leave nothing out. We have another 5 minutes before our ride is here.” 

Lilya glowered at her, tempted to beat Neve to death with her own prosthetic- just to buy enough time to avoid revealing all the gritty particulars she’d been longing to share. Nonetheless, she knew she’d be dreaming of their almost-kiss for days to come. Her skin burned with the memory of his lips under her fingertips, along her ear, and the strength in his hands as he held her body to his. Her heart was already fluttering at the most basic of recollections. If she even dared to tell Neve the things she thought about him, what she wanted to do to him and with him? She’d probably come on the spot and then die from embarrassment. And if she didn’t, Neve would make sure to put her in the coffin herself with her never-ending, sarcastic quips.  She had finally managed to string the words together to tell her to shut up and mind her own damn business when the very hands she’d been fantasising about brushed her shoulders and slid down her arms. Lilya’s eyes snapped to Neve to check if it was all in her head- but judging by her bugged-out stare, it wasn’t just some intense daydream.

“This won’t do,” he tutted against her temple, his fingers caressing the smooth skin along her biceps as he huffed out his approval. “You’re so cold, Doc. We can’t have that.” He trailed his fingertips down her arms, thrilled by the gooseflesh that rose at her nape. It took everything in him not to run his lips over it and up her neck, to make the rest of her body tingle with his kisses- but her friend looked like she’d probably burn his eyes out if he tried anything more than what she already allowed with her friend.

Illario shrugged off his jacket and carefully draped it over her shoulders, his hands running down the line of her arms once more, firmer, not meant to tease, but to remind her how he had touched her when they were alone. “Here you go, Doc. You need it more than I do. I’d offer you a ride home, but I doubt you’d accept it. I do hope you have a lovely evening.” He squeezed her hands, and she almost squeezed back, her cheek pressed against the lapel of his jacket, facing him but unable to look him in the eye. Dangerous things happened when she met his gaze. 

Then, as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. He disappeared into his town car and did not even look back at her when they drove off. 

Lilya pulled the large jacket around her frame and let herself take in the fading scent of his cologne and closed her eyes as flashes of their kiss earlier that day flooded her mind, how wonderful it felt to be back in his arms with his mouth on hers- 

Neve stared at her friend, blinking blankly. She hadn’t seen her like this about a man since she had dated Ashur, the man who broke her heart to become a priest. By her glazed-over look alone, whatever the two shared was more explosive and intense than what Lilya had with the man she was convinced she’d marry. After things ended between them, the poor girl stopped dating and focused only on her career. Sure, there were casual flings, a friendly booty call whom she trusted enough to call upon whenever human contact was a necessity- but the look on her face screamed to Neve that this was not someone she was going to get over through willpower and abstinence from him alone. 

“Oh my darling, Lilya. You went and done it.” 

She looked up at Neve with confusion, her brows furrowing together as she continued to unconsciously revel in the scent of the man, her expression gradually softening the more she inhaled his scent from his collar. “Done what?” 

“Gone and fallen for him, obviously.” 

“Wha-no! I don’t even know the man, I can’t, you don’t just- I mean I certainly don’t - people don’t do this! A-Adults don’t do this!” she spluttered, growing increasingly flustered as her vehement denials piled up, her anxiety rising with a sharp sting of what she recognised as cognitive dissonance. “... Neve.” 

The detective hushed her, extinguishing her cigarette with her heel and opened up her arms again for Lilya to snuggle back into her embrace. “Don’t worry, Lil, there are worse things than being head over heels for a guy like that.”  “... There is?” she asked, her voice muffled between them.  Neve nodded and smiled softly. “Mhmm. You could like them, and they could not know you exist. Or they know you exist, but just don’t care. Thankfully for you, that man, oh Lilya, that man looks like you’re the only thing that exists. And at the very least, I know that he has excellent taste in women… And clothes, this jacket is fabulous.”

——— 

They sat in the backseat of the Uber, and Neve was chatting about something to do with shoe polish, nail polish or Polish sausage, but she just couldn’t keep her mind from straying to a certain man with cheekbones so sharp they should have been classified as weapons. Lips so plush that she wanted to spend hours just nibbling on them and-

“... Want a napkin for your drool?”

“Huh?” she answered eloquently, turning to face her quickly, a surprised look on her dazed face. Neve laughed and leaned against the side of the door, taking a long look at her and laughing even harder. “What?! What is it?”

“You really bloody like this guy.”

“What the hell are you talking about now?” Lilya groused, shirking away and sitting with her back ramrod straight against the seat.

“You were spacing out with a dreamy look on your face. You have never done that except when you first started dating Ashur; you certainly haven't done it since. Well, I mean, except for right now, of course,” she said, leaning over to pinch her friend’s cheek and getting pinched in return. “Ah- hey! Don’t shoot the messenger! It’s not my fault you’re so repressed, you didn’t notice it!”

Lilya threatened to pinch her again, but kept her hands to herself. It was hardly fair to do so when her friend was right. She really hadn’t noticed, just told herself it was all in her head and that it was hormones and couldn’t be anything else… especially with someone like Illario Dellamorte. Even with the things she had to dismiss because it was a secondhand account from Lucanis, it didn’t mean he wasn’t splashed around in the society pages.

After her initial meeting with him, her mild obsession took over her, so she did the perfectly normal thing to do: she googled the shit out of him. He wasn’t hard to find, and he wasn’t particularly secretive about who he was and what he did. He’d been seen with different debutantes and heiresses from around the world, attending fashion shows, and of course, she’d heard his name spoken by people in her circle at times, though she never paid attention to it. They didn’t run in the same crowds, but it didn’t mean their lives couldn’t occasionally intersect. Both of them came from money; his older than hers, but both names and fortunes were well respected. Outside of their family businesses, they were unlikely to have met, except perhaps as a brief greeting at a benefit or a mutual acquaintance’s gala event.

And yet. They met. And every subsequent time they met, the feeling in her chest grew more insistent… she didn’t want to admit it, but not being able to kiss him before physically hurt, like something was torn away from her. She kept herself hidden, hiding behind the pretence of professionalism and what was right. She had followed the rules; her patient was well looked after and no longer under her care. There was no hard and fast length of time that she had to wait to start something with Illario, but still, she would need to speak to her licensing board. Was that something she wanted to do? Did she want to risk her credibility, possibly undermine people’s trust in her, just because she had a little crush? That stuff followed you forever. Was this worth the pain? Could she live without ever knowing?

“Hey Neve.”

“Hmm?”

“You wanna abuse your powers as a detective?”

Neve sent her a sidelong glance and crossed her arms. “... I’m listening.”

“You want to get me Illario’s address? If I recall correctly, he lived uptown because it only took about ten minutes to get to my clinic from his place… I don’t really remember much because I ran out of his house so quickly the last time. This way I can go there real quick and confirm whether all I’m feeling is just me being hornier than I’ve ever felt, or if I actually like him you know.. as a person and stuff.”

Their driver choked on his drink.

“Yeah… no. Not doing that for you. Surely there’s someone in your family who knows him. Just ask them. Go to his office-”

“I’m not doing that again.”

“Again? Maker, I need to be caught up on the latest gossip.”

“Thank you for nothing, you upstanding pillar of the law.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now I’m going to have to call him.”

“...You had his number all this time?” Neve stared at her agape, shaking her head at her friend.

“Yeah?”

“And you didn’t call him?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Damn. That’s big. Such restraint from your part.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re obviously really into him, Lil.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“I have eyes. They both work just fine. I may only have one leg, but both my eyes are in tip-top shape. You’re biting your lip, your right leg is bouncing nervously, and your left thumb is flicking at each fingertip- you’re nervous. You’re excited. It’s cute.”

“Shut up. Just keep smoking and ruin your eyes already, stop seeing things so well.”

“Damn. Such a hater.”

The phone was ringing and she was so close to hanging up, freaking out that she was about to get his voicemail and she didn’t know what to say. ‘Hey Illario, it’s Lilya. Uh. Dr Lilya de Riva… in case you know more Lilya’s. Anyway, Yeah. So, this is my number, and now you have it. Now, I’m going to anxious-puke into this driver’s backseat console. Bye.’ That would charm the pants right back on to him and super glue them in place.

She was going to hang up-

“Hello?”

Shit. Damn. Shit. Shit!

“...Hello?”

Lilya squeezed her eyes shut and weathered the good-natured slaps from Neve after she heard the deeper voice on the other end of the line.

“Maker, Zara, if this is you-”

“I sure hope you don’t lump me in the same boat as your ex, Mr. Dellamorte,” she replied, Neve nodding and silently snapping her fingers to amp her up. She was a shit, but she was her shit, Maker bless her. Lilya heard a surprised huff, and a delicious chuckle followed. She could imagine him dipping further into the seat of his town car, his head thrown back on the headrest, his hand deep in his pocket, and the biggest grin on his face. As if he had won a bet, and her crawling back to him was his prize.

“I would never, Doc. It hurts that you think I ever would,” he said swiftly, and Lilya could hear the smile in his voice. It almost made her want to hang up just to spite him, but that would get them nowhere. “Zara is a breed unto her own. But then again, so are you-”

“...What?!”

“She is an accident of nature. You are the pinnacle of it, hardly comparable.”

Oh, he was smooth; she would give him that.

Neve mouthed, ‘ask for his address,’ and Lilya smacked her, earning a kick in the shin from her prosthetic, and she yelped loudly, causing Illario to ask if she was okay, obvious concern flooding his tone. Her friend whispered her apologies and tried to rub her smarting leg, the commotion resulting in their hushed voices talking over each other.

“Stop it!”

‘‘No, I’m so sorry!”

“Would you stop touching me!”

“Oh, Lil, I feel terrible. I take it back, you can sleep with Elek.”

“What the hell is going on over there?” he asked, his amusement shadowed by worry that the woman might accept the offer to sleep with another man. “Lilya?!”

Lilya pushed her friend off of her and put the phone back to her ear, cursing that she would sound more winded and agitated than before. “Hi, yes, yes, I’m here! Sorry about that. If you see that a woman was killed in the back seat of her Uber, and her friend was the prime suspect, I was with you all evening? Okay?”

She heard him laugh, and she hated to admit that she liked how it sounded- deep and rich. “You got it, alibi secured, you were with me all night- murder away.”

Lilya paused and reminded herself that fortune only favoured the brave. “Do… Do you think we could make that alibi… real?” she said, instantly smacking her forehead to her palm, if that didn’t sound like the worst way to invite herself over for a booty call, she didn’t know what was.

A long stretch of silence played on between them as Illario processed what she had said.

“Um… hello?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Doc.”

“It’s fine. Ignore me. I just… I’m going to go- I’m so sorry to call you so late-”

“I’ll text you my address… unless you want to text me yours?”

“I… we’re not going to have sex!” she blurted out, Neve snorting in the background, and again, Illario laughed.

“Well, that’s a shame, but I figured as much. I’ll send it to you now, see you soon,” he said, promptly hanging up.

---

The woman never failed to surprise him.

Just half an hour ago, he had formulated a plan to win the woman over; he was going to break down her walls, systematically destroy every argument she had to oppose him, and bend every rule there was to get to her. Nothing was going to stop him.

Except her, apparently. Beating him to the punch.

His driver pulled out in front of his building as instructed, and Illario sat back and laughed.

---

Lilya finished fixing herself up - “Yeah, you’re definitely not here to have sex aye, Lil, there’s another reason why you’re pushing your tits up and over your dress” - and pressed call icon under his name, wedging the phone between her ear and shoulder as she climbed out of the car. She didn’t even hear one full ring before it cut off to his voicemail, the generic robotic voice telling her to leave a message, and she hung up, ready to text him back saying she was in front of his building.

“Fancy seeing you here, Doc.”

It was unfair that the man moved so smoothly that he made walking look like he was dancing. She was so entranced by him that he had almost made it to the front of the Uber.

“N-No, wait, stop!” she called out, arm out in front of her, shocking the man to pause with a confused look. “I just… You need to be over there, and I need to be here.”

Illario stuck his tongue in his cheek and grinned, trying not to snicker. “Oh, you do? I wonder why that is?”

“Oh, don’t tease me, Mr Dellamorte,” she sassed him back, hugging his jacket tighter around him, which for some reason he seemed to approve of.

“Why not? You know from experience just how good at it I am.”

He licked at his incisor, and Lilya was tempted to tell him to stop doing that, but she knew he’d relish it far too much. Because she would, if she were in his shoes. Lilya pressed her lips together and shooed him back, Illario raising his arms with his elbows bent in question as he stepped backward until he was in line with the back of his car. “Alright… that’s… that’s far enough.”

“I’m sorry- are you talking? I can’t hear you from over here in Orlais,” he called out, shoving his hands into his pockets. Maker. She hadn’t noticed before but he had rolled up his sleeves and she could see his toned forearms, part of her remembering how some of his veins had become more visible when he had held her up by her hips and she- damn it.

“Just… please, you owe me, remember?” she said, with enough edge to her voice that made Illario drop his usual tone. He gently dipped his head to show he yielded and stood there quietly, waiting for her next move. “I don’t know… whatever it is this is that seems to be between us,” she started, searching for the right words, “but… it will not let me be. I am not too proud to say that you have been on my mind more than I care to admit. But I am not sure if that’s just because we have good chemistry, or if there’s an actual connection there. And I need to know.”

Illario tilted his head to the side and appraised her, unsure of what she meant. Wasn’t that the same thing?

“I know next to nothing about you, the real you, we’ve met less than a handful of times, and we did not do a lot of talking for it to be a viable connection. But I can’t help but wonder… if I'm wrong. And if I am- am I okay with never knowing that?”

He took a moment to mull over her words and deemed them fair enough. Logically, what she said was correct, but for him, it didn’t quite fit. He had never experienced what they shared before in his life; he had so many partners and some of the most intense sexual escapades one could have, but none left him reeling like that night with her. The kisses they shared in his office had felt like he was able to think again, as if everything noisy within him had gone quiet, stilled, and steady. Nothing in his life had ever been able to do that, no drink, no drug, no one. Except this woman who picked him up from a bar and then literally ran out of his life.

“How do you propose to answer this?” he asked, crossing his arms and fixing her with a discerning stare.

“We shall play a game.”

“... A…game?”

“Mhmm. You ask a question, and if I like the answer, you can step forward; if I don’t, you take a step back. I will do the same. Until we either finally meet or stay apart. Do you agree?”

“Does that count as the first question?”

“Illario.”

“Step forward.”

“What?”

“You called me by my name. I liked your answer. Please step forward.”

Lilya’s laughter bubbled out of her without her realising, covering her mouth to stifle herself, as she didn’t need one of his uppity neighbours calling the police on her for being unruly. Though thankfully, it was Antiva, the city never truly slept. “You tricky bastard. I get to ask two questions now.”

“What the hell- that’s not how you said we played the game.”

“I also didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“Are you sure you’re not a lawyer? That doesn’t seem like a therapist-y thing to say.”

“I am. That counts as another one of your questions, by the way, so now I guess I have three questions in a row to ask you,” she said, doing her best not to smile or gloat. Illario’s eyes squinted at her as a grin appeared on his face, chuckling into his hand when he knew he’d been played.

“Please step forward again. What can I say, I liked your answer, Doc. Almost makes me wish you worked for me, that’s some hard ball negotiating even I couldn’t argue against… but I guess if you did work for me, we wouldn’t be here in front of my building playing this weird game at midnight, so, I’ll just be happy you’re not on my payroll.”

“You couldn’t afford me on your payroll.”

“I am wealthy.”

“So am I… and if you tell me to step forward because of that answer, I will lose it.”

Illario raised his hands in surrender and mock innocence. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, it wasn’t a question.”

Three questions. She had three questions to ask him when there were so many that raced around her mind. Go with your gut, it hasn’t led you astray yet. “Alright, what were you doing in the club tonight?”

“I was going to meet someone there for business, I hadn’t expected to find you there.” She nodded, and he took a step forward.

“If money weren’t an object, what would you be doing with your life?”

He paused and took the time to think out his answer. “The thing is, Doc… money isn’t an issue. I’ve never really thought about it because I didn’t think I could think about it. My life has been planned for me since the day I was born. This is who I am. I don’t think… the question should be if money weren’t an object. It should be, if I weren’t a Dellamorte, what would I be doing with my life?”

She had not expected him to be so candid, especially with the witty and flirty responses she had become accustomed to. Lilya nodded again, and he took a step. “Do you see yourself in a committed relationship in the future?”

“Yes.”

It was the way he said it, with his eyes pinned to hers and the barest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, that made her swallow audibly. He said that with his whole chest. No hesitation. Eyes on the prize. That’s the second time she thought of herself as a prize, that was some egotistical shit right there. She felt herself nod, and he took a larger step toward her, but she said nothing against it, for he answered a big question.

“That’s three questions. My turn. Why did you call me?”

“I-” she stopped talking, about to give some stupid answer, but she owed it to herself to be honest. “... My friend in the car there… shared some keen insight with me that I truly hadn’t considered, and I needed to make sure before resigning myself to a course of action. What-ifs always kill me.”

“Take a step, Doc.”

Lilya took a step forward and realised she was already in front of the side mirror of the car, and Illario was already midway by the driver’s window. “Who was the one that got away?”

He leaned back and laughed, his eyes crinkling shut with such mirth that she was inspired to smile back at him.

“Doc… isn’t it obvious?”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Believe it or not, I am not accustomed to anyone running away from me, let alone getting away from me.”

“So is that it- you’re just intrigued because I’m the first one who didn’t fall over themselves to be with you straight away?”

“That may be a part of it. I don’t know,” he shrugged, still smiling like an idiot. “All I do know is that there is something about you, something in me can’t shake. I’ve tried. I’ve tried to forget about you, I’ve tried to meet other people, but whatever it is inside me doesn’t seem to want to work if it’s not you.”

“They have pills for that now, by the way. Small. Blue. Popular with the men, I hear.”

“Fuck me, Doc, you’re killing me here,” he groaned, shaking his head with a grin.

The sound of a window rolling down, and they were met with a very unimpressed Neve. She looked up at Lilya and tapped on her phone at the time. “Are we planning to stay here all night? Henry needs to get to sleep; he has an early start tomorrow.”

“Who the hell is Henry?” Lilya asked, utterly befuddled.

“Our driver! He’s been waiting here, watching you two play footpath footsie for the last ten minutes, and we’re his last ride. Either you wrap this up now, or we need to let him go.”

Illario strode forward and bowed down slightly in front of Neve’s door with his right hand over his heart in apology. “I am so sorry to you and your driver, please, let my driver take you wherever you need to be.”

“I’m not leaving, I’m invested now,” Neve replied nonplussed. “And I’m not leaving her without a ride, without a witness. I don’t care how pretty you are, there’s just no way. Not with what I’ve seen in this world,” she said, looping her arm around Lilya’s waist. The doctor looked upon the detective with grateful eyes and hugged her back, thankful to have such a friend.

“Alright, Dellamorte, speed round- if I told you we needed to wait two years because I need to adhere to what my licensing board expected of me after reporting this, what would you do? Would you move on, or would you wait with the possibility that whatever you’re feeling would dissipate before the time was even finished?”

“I’d wait.”

“You can’t answer that quickly!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not something that can be answered quickly, especially by someone who spent ages pondering what they’d like to do if they were able to!”

“Well, I’m not just anyone. I’m the CFO of our conglomerate. My job involves literally looking at something, running the numbers, casting projections, reviewing potential returns on investments, and analysing our cost-to-benefit ratio for all our acquisitions. I already know that if I invest two years of time in you, whatever I get would produce a return I can’t even quantify. There is only one risk I can see.”

“What’s that?”

“That you don’t see the same when you look at me.”

Lilya’s hand shot out and grabbed Neve by the arm, fingers wrapping around her wrist tightly, as if to ground her and convince herself she wasn’t dreaming. Her friend’s hand rested on top of hers and squeezed back.

“Shit, Lil. If you don’t kiss him, I just might.”

Illario smirked. He almost said “I’m game” in reflex when he realised that, surprisingly, he wasn’t. There was another beautiful woman in front of him paying a compliment he’d normally eat up, but he could only focus on the one who had been haunting him for months on end.

“Take… take many steps forward,” Lilya said against her better judgement.

Neve clucked her tongue and moved toward Illario’s car, talking over her shoulder in their general direction. “I will hop in with -“

“Marcel.”

“That’s right, thank you, Illario. I’ll hop in with Marcel and circle the block a few… dozen… times. You two talk. I’ll be back soon… ish. Lil, I’m a phone call away. He does anything- you call me, and you won’t even need an alibi if something happens to him.”

“Tough words from the cop who wouldn’t even get me an address.”

Neve turned on her heel and pressed her hand daintily to her chest as if she were offended. “There are some sacred lines you just don’t cross, Lil. I’ll be back. Make good choices. Remember, public indecency isn’t cool. So don’t get caught.”

“Just go, Neve!”

Lilya exhaled and closed her eyes, exasperated at her bestie’s antics. She heard the click of his shoes against the pavement and knew he took liberty with how many steps were classified as “many,” stopping short, just in front of her. It was her fault. She had not been specific.

“What is truly holding you back?” he asked, hands twitching at his sides with his need to touch her again. Up close, he could see it, the flicker of emotions, the rapid fire of thoughts as they moved across her face. She was choosing her words carefully, weighing them not just for him, but for herself as well.

“The professional aspects are a real concern. It is. I worked too long, too hard and care about my patients too much to lose everything- because my licence can be taken away from me, because of this,” Lilya said as she wildly gestured between them. She took a breath and hugged herself, knowing there was no point in indulging her self-denial any longer. “And yeah, that’s not just it- there’s more luggage than that to unpack. I know there is, and none of it is your fault. I don’t know quite how to fix it because there was no one worth fixing it for before”

He gave in to his desire, reaching for her waist and pulling her gently toward him, closing the last sliver of distance- bringing them back to where they’d been earlier that evening, earlier that day. Just a breath apart. Lilya’s hands moved without thought, settling against his chest. The fine silk of his shirt was warm beneath her fingers, smooth and soft, just like the skin she remembered, the skin she shouldn’t still be thinking about. But she was.

“Final question… You seem willing to go through with this. The waiting. My ethical responsibilities. The crazy friends I keep in the wings to torment you… all of it…”

“That’s a statement, not a question. It’s a true statement surely, but not a question, Doc.”

Lilya’s nails lightly grazed along his chest as she curled her hands into fists, a frown playing at her lips. “The question is… would you go through with all of it, even if it meant hurting your cousin? Because it might. It could really hurt him if we were to continue. Are you willing to do that?”

Illario froze. Could it? Could he?

Lilya smiled sadly at his hesitation- read him like a headline. She took a step back, both of them instantly colder for it.

“And that… that right there. That is why we can’t do this.”

He reached for her, his instincts overriding everything, but she stepped further out of his reach. Illario could feel his heart pounding in his chest as she took another. They were so close, right there, and he felt the chance slip through his fingers. How did the closing of this door feel worse than any of his actual relationships? Were they all so shallow that this flicker of real, actual connection with someone meant more to him than anything he had before? Was that a thing?

“… Yeah, Neve. Come back. It’s okay- I’m fine, I’m fine, we’ve just finished talking. Mhmm. Yup. We’ll get another ride. See you soon.”

Clearing his throat, Illario blinked a few times to come back to himself. “You can take my car. I said he’ll take you anywhere you want.”

“ I couldn’t-“

“You can. You should. Please, I insist.”

“I… thank you.”

They stood in silence as they waited for Neve to return. Lilya shivered and suddenly realised she was still wearing his jacket.

“I should- your jacket”

“It’s fine. Keep it until you get home.”

“Yeah. Okay, thanks.”

An eternity passed as they stood side by side, the awkward tension growing by the second. She wanted to tell him to go inside, but she knew he’d tell her he wasn’t going to leave her alone, and then it would be even more awkward because it would make her heart flutter. Even more than the mere thought of it already did.

“Just tell me this. What was the point then, of coming here? Of this entire exercise?”

“If it were just about sex, then I might be able to sublimate that I’m human and I can make one more mistake. Get you out of my system. But I think... that it’s more than chemistry. And to go into anything with that knowledge, I can’t even pretend to know how to face doing that every day. To choose to make a mistake that hurts the people I promised to help, every day. That’s not who I am.”

“So if it was just sex that’d be fine, but because I actually like you, that’s what makes it worse?!”

“Yes.”

“You shrinks are messed up, you know that?”

“Yes.”

“So what… this is it. For real. No chance of anything, now or in two years?”

“… Yes.”

He swallowed as an acrid taste, like something burnt, bloomed at the back of his throat. “Fine. Then, please, as a man who makes mistakes, may I just have one more? For our old fuck-ups’ sake?”

She looked at him for a moment, something fragile and knowing in her eyes, and then she nodded- slowly, solemnly- with no illusions or promises. Just the quiet agreement of two people who had already said goodbye in everything but gesture.

He stepped down off the curb. She stood slightly above him on the footpath, and he couldn’t help but notice, with a flicker of fond amusement he knew he shouldn’t have, that even now, he was still taller. Illario reached up, brushing a few stray hairs from her face, fingers longing to linger upon her skin. She was still utterly, impossibly enchanting, more so in this moment, wrapped in silence and streetlight and the ache of what they wouldn’t become. And maybe that’s why it hurt. Because she was standing right there, close enough to touch, but still not his.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then her temple. And finally, a last, gentle kiss to her lips. Chaste, reverent, a farewell shaped from the affection he bore her from the fleeting moments they had shared. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t have to. They both knew this was the end of it.

When he stepped back, the space between them felt even heavier than before. He had wanted to say something cool or suave or, at the very least, memorable, but his car turned the corner and he missed his chance. Again.

A cold wind tugged at her as if it was urging her to stay back, but her feet remained rooted to the spot. The tension between them, once warm with possibility, cooled fast, like a breath on glass- already fading. She reached for the right words, but found none that would give him the solace he deserved after what she put them through, to sate her own damn curiosity.

“For whatever it’s worth,” she began, meeting his eyes one last time, “I’m thankful to know it was more than sex between us. I’ll mourn it… and be grateful. For what could have been. And I’ll rest easier knowing it wasn’t just chemistry- it was real.” She inhaled sharply, bracing herself. “It just… couldn’t be.”

The silence stretched on between them, tremulous, terrible and tender.

The car pulled up behind him, its headlights slicing through the darkness like a spotlight on a stage, the last act of their messy play. He stepped back, his face unreadable, jaw clenched in silent compliance. He opened the door for her without a word, but his eyes followed her like she was about to step behind a closing curtain he wasn’t ready to let fall.

“Goodbye, Mr. Dellamorte.”

A nod.

“See you around, Dr de Riva.”

Their formality a shield, an effort at dignity between them as they both unravelled.

She slid into the car and he did not look away, even as the shadows stole her from him.

She collapsed into Neve’s waiting arms, embracing her without hesitation, like she’d been bracing for the impact all along. Neve had always known when Lilya was coming apart; she’d learned to listen for her unspoken words long before they were ever said. Lilya tucked her head beneath Neve’s chin, her voice muffled but unmistakably raw. “I don’t want… I can’t be alone tonight. Can I stay with you?”

Neve rested her cheek on the top of her head, her hands rubbing at her arms in quiet reassurance. “Yeah, of course. I’ll have to tidy a little… okay, a lot… but yeah. Of course.”

Lilya closed her eyes. Guilt coiled low in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she’d made the right choice for her, for them- only that she had made a choice. And for tonight, that would have to be enough.

---

Outside, the car pulled away, its taillights fading into the dark. He stood there, unmoving, like a damned statue carved from an artist’s confusion and regret, watching until even the red smear of light had vanished into the night. He didn’t follow. He couldn’t. Not now. Not after that.

He laughed again, at himself, for he'd fancied himself a hunter. Told himself he would chase her, sweep her off her feet. She really never failed to surprise him. He hadn’t expected her to look at him with those big, bright eyes that told him yesand no within the same breath. She’d given him a taste of maybe, just long enough for him to believe, before snatching it away from them both like a cruel trick, some malicious sleight of hand.

She wanted him. Maker, he knew that much. She did too. It was heard in her trembling voice, felt in the way her hands had touched him, seen from the shine in her eyes she blinked back too quickly to be ever called tears- but it was there, she was there. But wanting wasn't enough. Not for her. Not when it meant hurting Lucanis. So she left- noble, broken and beautiful in retreat.

And he stood there, thoughts soaked in bitterness, drowning in the quiet. A would-be hunter, shot down before the hunt even began. Wounded not by her rejection, but by the brief flare of promise. He was just a man who wandered too close to the flame and never learnt, no matter how many times he was burnt. All he could do was bleed out silently in the dark, as she slipped away and the night closed in behind her.

——— 

Pizza for dinner? No, maybe some pasta. Or both. And some gelato, of course. 

Months had passed since she last saw Illario Dellamorte. 

True to his word, he did not call her office, did not contact her at all. She had tried to delete his number from her phone, but she couldn’t. Told herself to keep it just in case. The weeks that had passed saw her fall into a mindless routine of working, eating, and watching unenjoyable shows, where she yelled at the TV and browsed the dog shelters for a companion that she could call her own. She was the same person her patients knew, but Bellara still watched her with quiet concern, never lingering too long before glancing away, though not before Lilya caught her. She was grateful for her assistant’s sensitivity. Bellara could talk the ear off a statue and often overstepped in the most endearing and well-meaning ways, but when it came to pain- real, enduring pain- she was wise beyond her years. She recognised it even when concealed behind a smile, and knew better than to speak before Lilya was ready.

She hadn’t caught up with Neve since she spent the weekend rotting in her bed with her, her friend trying to force raw cookie dough into her mouth with whiskey in an effort to heal her. Teia had tried to call and ask her to go out for drinks or coffee, or even just to prove she was alive and not just some AI answering machine, but she kept saying she was busy or not feeling well, or that it would be some other time. 

“But you’ll come to the party, right? You said you would!”

“Yeah, Tay, of course.”

...Yeah. She lied. 

She didn’t want to be a downer at the party. The last thing Teia needed was to be watching her from the corner of her eye and babysitting her when it was her night to shine. Lilya would take her out for drinks on the weekend to celebrate and buy her something ridiculously fabulous to make up for it. She had every intention of staying in her pyjamas for an ungodly amount of time again. She scratched at her head, irritated with herself- she hadn’t even broken up with him! He wasn’t her boyfriend. But she’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t miss his presence in the periphery of her life; that she wasn’t constantly thinking of him, if he was okay and had already moved on. That she wasn’t obsessively scanning the society columns to see if he’d been spotted out and about like some creepy idiot who couldn’t let go of someone who was never hers to begin with.  

She heard her front door open, and she sat up, alarmed, until she heard her brother’s voice call out to her. “Lilya? Are you home?” 

“...No?” 

“Wonderful. I’ll just wait until you’re back then, shall I?” 

“Tremendous.” 

“Lilya de Riva.” 

“Viago de Riva.” 

“Are you alone in there?” “If I were home, then yes, I’d consider myself very much alone.” 

“Are you clothed or naked?” 

“Technically, you’ll find we’re all naked under our clothes.” 

“I’m coming in.” 

“I’m not home, remember- hey! Hey! Stop tha- Viago! Stop!” she shrieked as he climbed onto her bed and locked his arms around her middle like he used to do when she was a child, half expecting him to slam her into the bed after they’d watched one too many wrestling matches. He lifted her up with such relative ease she was half tempted to ask if he had been testing a new steroid on himself- mad chemist that he was. 

He propped her up, looking over his dishevelled sibling, hair a mess, wearing what he could only assume was her very worn university sweatshirt and the biggest, baggiest pair of pyjama bottoms he had ever seen. It was unbecoming of a de Riva, and his flat, disappointed stare said as much. She scoffed at him and made to burrow back into her nest of pillows and blankets, but he caught her around the middle and threatened to throw her over his shoulder if she continued being an annoying brat. 

“Why are you here, Vi?” she said, looking like a sad wet dog. “I just want to be left alone, is that too much to ask?” 

Viago shook his head and crossed his arms, glowering at her so intensely that it would have levelled anyone else who hadn’t grown up with him. “We have. We have left you alone, and you have done nothing but fester here. What would you be saying to your patients in this situation, Lilya?” 

She gave him a sour look. How dare he use logic on her? Even worse, her logic. Asshole. 

“I just don’t feel up to going to this event and dressing up and pretending to care about celebrities and other trust fund babies, with their ridiculous blue blood issues, like not having enough of their favourite champagne available, their maids are more loved by their children than they are, or their country club’s greens aren’t green enough. I don’t have it in me, Viago.” 

He gave her a long, discerning stare, which warmed the longer he observed her. He placed a gloved hand on her shoulder and squeezed, in what he hoped was a comforting act. 

“Lilya… I don’t give a shit.” 

“...What?”

“I do not give a shit,” he repeated sincerely, squeezing her shoulder again, this time his comfort was less keenly felt. “I don’t care if you don’t want to see me or return my calls, only sending me one-worded answers to show me proof of life every other week. I don’t care if you want to look like… this… or if you appear to be subsisting on grilled cheese sandwiches and take-out alone. What I care about is my own peace of mind.” 

“You just said you were happy with my text messages,” she whined, pushing his hand off of her. “Why are you making my life hell?” 

“Yes, I am happy with them. But Teia is not,” he differentiated with a pointed stare. “And if she is not happy, I am not happy. Because she continues to drive me mad talking about you. So if my life is hell, your life is hell. It is like what your mother used to tell me, sharing is caring.” 

Lilya did well not to snort in front of her already unimpressed brother. 

“So you will come with me, you will get ready, you will attend your friend’s party, and you will pretend to have a good time. You will talk, drink, and relate to those blue-blooded bastards, and you will be a damn good friend to Teia, do you understand? Because lately, you haven’t been.” 

She really hated it when he made sense. It was so typically Viago, making good points with his haughty little face, it made her both want to hug and punch him. But she figured that was how most siblings felt about each other. 

“Fine… but I am wearing UGG boots out of this house.” 

“Lilya-” 

“Teia wouldn’t have cared if I showed up to the party like this.” 

“Teia is a far better person than I am, which is why I was sent. We’re going back to the House, Teia has her team waiting to get you ready. So march down and get into the town car, young lady-”

“-Young lady?”

“I swear to the Maker, Little Bird-”

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going.” 

---

Lilya sat in the chair, mentally calculating the most efficient way to strangle her best friend, just enough to leave her conscious for her own celebration, of course. She’d seen the invitation tucked into Viago’s attaché case, the same one she had deliberately left unopened at her office... because well... she really had no plans to go. She hadn’t even taken it out of the envelope, just confirming she received it when Teia had asked. 

“Teia... why didn’t you tell me you were merging with Dellamorte Holdings?” 

“Why did I have to? It’s right there on the invite. Why do you ask?”

“Are you kidding me? How come it hadn’t come up before all this?! You know who I had that one-night stand with that night you got back together with Viago!” 

“Lilya, I literally have no idea who you’re talking about.” 

“What? I sent you a selfie before I left the bar that night!” 

“Which I never got, sweetie, don’t know what to tell you. The wonders of modern technology. So wait... who did you sleep with? Was it Lucanis or Illario?”

“Teia.” 

“Fuck me. It was both of them. Well Done.” 

“T E I A”

“... Oh shit. It wasn’t Caterina, was it?”

“I really need new friends.” 

“You can try, darling, but none will be as fantastic as I am. Now... was that a yes or no to the cousin threesome? If you don’t respond, I’m just going to start making up nasty assumptions that line up with my expectations of you. I’m thinking you all wanted to use a hot tub, but it was too small, and you had to sit on one of their laps? Or their face? Tell me everything and prove me wrong.”

Upon arriving and fixing her friend with a glare sharp enough to make Teia laugh, she immediately slipped into the background, doing her best to remain unnoticed. She lingered at the fringes of the party, making polite conversation in small groups, her eyes scanning the room, careful to avoid seeing or being seen by... someone.

Still, she breathed a little easier. Even in a room full of acclaimed producers, directors, and entertainers, Teia shone. Resplendent as ever, she drew every gaze. As CEO of the country’s largest entertainment group, she had always been impossible to ignore. Viago stood beside her as if he’d been photoshopped there, polished, rigid, and pristine. But that was nothing new to any of their peers. He had long been known as a bit of a snob: reserved and wholly uninterested in mingling with... people. They weren’t there for him anyway. They were there for the glamorous woman on his arm, dressed in a deep red gown with a back so low it revealed the tattoo she’d gotten on their girls’ trip to Rivain, the one they took to celebrate Lilya’s high school graduation. Teia wore it without apology, clearly unfazed by who might see it.

She had worked hard to secure this deal, and tonight she deserved her moment. But that didn’t stop her from glancing over her shoulder, checking that Lilya was alright.

Pushy or not, there was no better friend in the world than Teia Cantori.

“Lilya?” 

She paused, panic spreading through her in an instant. 

“Lilya de Riva? My dear, it has been too long!” 

She relaxed. She knew that voice, and it was not his.  

Spinning on her heel, she turned to see the gentle face of her old professor, Emmrich Volkarin, dressed to the nines as always, holding a flute of champagne and a tiny plate of hors d'oeuvres. Lilya smiled for the first time in what felt like days and reached out for her old friend, kissing him warmly on the cheek. 

“Professor Volkarin! Hello! Pardon my surprise, I wasn’t expecting you here!” 

“Please, Lilya, Emmrich. I’ve not been your teacher for many years now,” he gushed, carefully propping his food and drink at a nearby table. With his hands free, he greeted his favourite ex-student with a firm hug, the professor not releasing her until she let go first. Perhaps she should have let go sooner, for when she peered back up at the vertically gifted man, he was staring at her with concern. Always far too perceptive for his own good. “My dear…” 

Lilya shook her head and picked up a glass of champagne from one of the roving servers and sipped at it nervously. “Please don’t, Professor.” 

“What is troubling you?” 

“Nothing at all. Tell me, how is teaching these days? And your practice? Is Strife here too?” she asked hurriedly, clearly changing the topic. He sighed heavily and frowned; the lines around his mouth deepened, but did nothing to diminish his handsome looks. 

“Alas, he is off to a dig site somewhere deep in Arlathan again; otherwise, I would have wrangled that man into a tuxedo. You will be glad to know that my teaching still proves to be an exciting endeavour! Finding like-minded souls, like yourself, and helping them find their paths to help others is always fulfilling. And whilst I’ve pared back my private practice hours, it is still good to be out there assisting people,” he said pointedly, picking up his glass and saluting her before taking a drink. 

Lilya groaned quietly but could feel herself smile nonetheless. Emmrich Volkarin was the best in their field for a reason. She wiped at the lip gloss that had stained the rim of her glass to shift focus from her friend’s intense gaze, not wanting to divulge everything to him in such a public area. As if reading her mind, he offered his arm and led them to a seating area outside the function room, where only a few people were about. He sat them down and took both of her hands into his, patting them lightly as he had when she had broken down in her honours year, after her laptop was stolen and along with it her half-written thesis. 

“Lilya… we’ve known each other for years, and I consider you a dear friend and colleague,” he said gently. “Please, let me help.”

“Viago called you, didn’t he?” she asked, glancing up to find her brother watching them from the hall. Nosy bastard. 

Emmrich chuckled awkwardly and gave a slight nod. “He did. Invited me to have a chat with you as he believed you would not be so open to meet with me otherwise. He’s still fiercely protective of you, even after all this time.”

“That’s one word for it,” she muttered, but she managed a tight smile in Viago’s direction before turning back to the professor. “I… You’re going to be so disappointed in me,” she whispered, her voice catching. Shame, sadness, and guilt welled up all at once, turning her bright eyes glassy. 

“Disappointed? Goodness, no. Concerned... well, perhaps. But never disappointed. You’ve always been one to hold yourself to such impossible standards.” Emmrich’s expression softened, but he remained measured as he always did.

Lilya smiled weakly and gathered her courage, edging closer to him on the couch, not wanting anyone to hear her admit to what had happened between her, Illario, and the consequences for Lucanis’ treatment. Everything that had passed in the last six months, the almost-something that happened between them and the fact that she embarrassingly, still could not get over it so long afterwards. 

“How foolish of me, right?” 

Emmrich exhaled gently. “Matters of the heart make fools of all of us,” he said, voice warm but cautious. “But you’re right, this is indeed a complicated situation you’ve found yourself in. And unfortunately, it’s not one I can advise you on directly, not while I’m still working with Lucanis.”

Lilya blinked. “Of course. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in a difficult position-”

He shook his head kindly to comfort her. “You’re not. But this is something where your own judgement, and your ability to navigate ethically, matter more than anything I could tell you. The fact that you're thinking about Lucanis’ well-being, even now, says a great deal about you.”

She nodded slowly, though her throat tightened as she prodded further into the matter. “But let’s say, hypothetically, that the feelings weren’t one-sided. That there’s still something unresolved. Wouldn’t proceeding with it still risk damaging Lucanis? Another betrayal from the people he trusted?”

Emmrich took a moment, then offered a steady, thoughtful smile. “You may be right. Or not at all. The only way to know is to talk to him, when the time is right. If you truly care about both of them, clarity and honesty are the best path forward.”

Lilya gave a strained laugh and smoothed the skirt of her dress, fingertips dancing over the fabric. “Truly, there’s hardly any point. Just because I’m still holding onto something doesn’t mean Illario is. Once I told him this could hurt Lucanis, he hesitated, and that’s where we parted ways. Men like him don’t pine for women like me, Professor.”

He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other with the familiar expression he wore in class when she thought she’d nailed the right answer, only to realise she had failed to take in all the variables of the situation.

“Ah, Lilya,” he said, smiling fondly. “Perhaps I still have a few things left to teach you.”

---

Another glass of Negroni was thrust into his hand, and he grunted his thanks, ignoring the dry laugh that followed shortly. 

“Why thank you for that Lucanis, how kind of you to refill my drink Lucanis, why am I being such a pain in your ass, Lucanis? Oh, I don’t know Illario. Perhaps it’s because you’re a pain in my ass on days that end with a Y,” he teased, taking a sip of his gin and tonic. “Seriously, you should be happy. The merger has passed, and you’re the talk of the finance world once again, cousin. The Cantori acquisition was a good choice, Caterina is happy.” 

“...Happy?” Illario asked, choking on his drink. 

Lucanis cringed and grinned sheepishly, offering a lame half shrug. “Well, as happy as that woman can seem.” 

“If that woman ever cracked a smile, it would be a Satinalia miracle.” 

“Just because you’re in a shitty mood doesn’t mean you need to wish for the world to witness that particular eldritch horror rise,” Lucanis snorted, turning around to lean against the bar like his cousin. “But back to my original point-”

“You had one?” 

“Surprisingly, yes. You are standing here like you don’t want to be here-”

“I don’t want to be here.” 

“And yet here we are- because it’s our duty, our business. This is your triumph, Illario. You convinced us this venture was worth it, and yet these past few months, you’ve done nothing but sulk.” He paused, studying the man beside him. “Is it me? Did you prefer it when I was angry with you?”

Lucanis had long forgiven him, but his anger had taken time to fade, lingering much longer than he wanted. Yet upon hearing that Zara had managed to get to his cousin and assault him, he was pulled straight out of his fog of resentment- he was not going to let that witch near his family again. Illario had seemed glad enough to have him back at first. But the longer they spent together, the more he noticed the changes: the far-off stares when he thought no one was looking, the sudden fascination with the colour green. He wore it more often now, and he’d vetoed the original navy palette for the celebration, insisting it should be green instead- to represent new beginnings, growth, and expansion, he’d said.

He’d even met with the event coordinators personally, selecting every piece of foliage that now adorned the space. The walls were cloaked in lush shrubbery, and hanging ruscus vines cascaded like curtains, framing the room in a quiet, elegant beauty. Pops of white and green ranunculus and hydrangeas subtly drew one’s eye deliberately around the room. If Illario ever tired of being their CFO, he could’ve easily slipped into a career in event design. His flair for the dramatic had finally found a worthy outlet, rather than just his closet or his choice in romantic pursuits.  

Lucanis had tried to engage him, to see if his ex, rearing her cursed head, was the cause of the sudden change in his mood, or if something else was to blame. The team had told him that there was another woman that day in the office who had been roped into helping Illario, and it looked like there could have been a spark between them, but that was the last they’d seen of her. Typical Illario, he was not one to stay with one partner for too long- Zara was the anomaly and a dangerous one at that. Illario was probably tired or stressed after holding both jobs for so long, due to his unintended sabbatical.

“Say, Illario, how about after this event wraps up, you take the next couple of weeks off? A month, two even- however long you need to recharge.” Illario narrowed his eyes at him as he chewed on an olive. “I know you did a lot behind the scenes when I was gone, let me return the favour. Take some time off, Maker knows you have too much leave accumulated- our HR team has been hounding me to force you to take leave for a few months now.” 

“Like you can talk, HR said you needed to take even more time off.” 

“Yes, it is obvious we need hobbies outside of work. But please, think about it. Maybe some time away from here will do you some good,” Lucanis said earnestly, causing Illario to pause mid-drink before agreeing to think about it. He clapped Illario on the back and was about to suggest they head off to re-join Teia and her date when he noticed two familiar guests enter through the main entrance. “Is that.. Why is my past therapist and current therapist here tonight? Did you invite them?” 

“What?!” Illario’s reaction was instantaneous; he snapped to attention, eyes locked across the room, and Lucanis followed his gaze.

Lilya.

Lucanis raised an eyebrow. Of all the women in the room, of course it would be her.

Illario didn’t speak, didn’t move. But Lucanis didn’t need him to. The way his cousin watched her, like someone staring at a memory that should’ve faded by now, but hadn’t. Like he’d tried to forget her, tried to let it go, but couldn’t. She should have been a ghost by now, something half-remembered and harmless. But there she was. Real. Beautiful. And still not his.

That look told Lucanis everything.

---

Illario straightened to his full height to see across the room, his eyes locked onto the two arm-in-arm and obviously attending the soiree together. He saw her first, of course, found her easily. He always did.

Even in a crowded room in a sea of black, she drew his gaze like a secret he wasn’t supposed to want to remember. She hadn’t meant to stand out; he knew her well enough to see that. The strapless black gown she wore was simple and sophisticated. It clung to her like water, dark as ink, flowing over her form. Even from across the room, the way the fabric drank in the light, soft and heavy, he knew it had to be velvet. Something so wonderfully tactile, encouraging your partner to touch you, to run their palms over you again and again - it seemed like the perfect choice for her. Lilya had leaned in to something that Teia had whispered, and she smacked her playfully; the satin trim at her chest catching the light when she moved, tempting him to follow every movement. How could something so little, so innocuous, affect him still?

He told himself to look away. He even managed it… for all of three seconds. But when his eyes slid back across the room, there she was, laughing politely at something the man beside her said. His hand was too familiar on her back, his smile too warm, too satisfied with himself. He had to remind himself it would not be a good look to beat up a guest at an event he was hosting. It might send the wrong message about how he conducted business. 

Though, thinking about hurting the man wasn’t technically against any rules. He shouldn’t have been there anyway, not with her. Not if the reasons she'd given him months ago still meant anything. Too soon. Too complicated. Too inappropriate- she’d said. For Lucanis- she’d said. She was the one who had drawn the line, snatched back any possibility with a trembling smile, and told him it was for the best. And yet here she was, arm-in-arm with someone whose conflicts ran deeper than his did. The man was in charge of Lucanis’ treatment, right? So it didn’t make sense. Or was her refusal simply a matter of politeness? That night, as she stood in his embrace, did she realise that he wasn’t worth the trouble, but found the old man was? 

He couldn’t let his bitterness show. Not tonight, not in front of Lucanis. He stood with his drink and a mask of practised indifference, but his chest felt heavy. Because no matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Even in something so deceptively simple, she was the picture of devastating beauty. While the others merely sparkled loudly, she smouldered quietly, commanding the room’s attention without having to say a word. And he, oh, he was still aflame.

He turned to the bar and requested a shot of grappa, causing Lucanis to watch him from the corner of his eye. He ignored him and swallowed it in one go, the burn of it reminding him that he didn’t care. She made her position very clear that night in front of his building, and he was not, could not, would not be interested in someone who did not want him. 

He needed another drink. 

---

Lucanis glanced between his cousin, now ordering another shot, and his therapists, past and present, who had moved with Teia further into the centre of the room, chatting cheerfully and utterly oblivious to the strain mounting between him and Illario. He exhaled through his mouth, straightened his tuxedo, and resigned himself to the inevitable.

There was nothing for it. He would have to do something before the tension drowned them all. In grappa or guilt, whatever got to them first. 

“Mierda.”

——— 

He had miscalculated. Again. What looked like a few casual steps from Illario's side became a forced march across polished floors and over-polished people, ending far too quickly in front of Viago, Teia, and their audience. He really should have taken the long way around. Teia and Viago greeted him with cordial smiles and chatter he barely caught over the pounding heartbeat in his ears.  “...I’m thrilled for Teia and for Dellamorte Holdings, of course, it’s a great deal for both companies. But I forget my manners, Lucanis, please meet esteemed Professor Emmrich Volkarin and my little sister, Lilya de Riva,” Viago said, gesturing to the people to his right, noticing the strained smiles on those he had just introduced. Lucanis cleared his throat and nodded gratefully, not wanting to give too much gossip to any prying listeners around him.

“Ah, thank you, Viago,” he finally replied, taking another sip of his drink. “We’ve… uh… we’ve all previously met,” he said, trying to ignore the way Teia’s eyes gleamed sinisterly as she mouthed something to Lilya which could have been ‘oh that’s him’, ‘so bad, Tim’ or ‘throw that thing’... he really needed to work on his lip reading, something he and Illario learnt one summer as children to spy on Caterina. “It’s a pleasure to see you here, Professor.” 

His therapist smiled and raised a glass of champagne in his direction. “A marvellous evening, Lucanis. What a wonderful celebration, a triumph on all fronts!” Lucanis turned stiffly to Lilya, who looked two shades paler than she had only a minute prior, knuckles white as she clung to the Professor’s arm. The only way one would notice that Emmrich felt any discomfort was from the tightness in his eyes and smile. 

“Dr … uh, Lilya? Nice to see you again,” he said stiffly, bowing slightly, which only seemed to delight Teia but confused her date, who was looking between them all suspiciously. “I didn’t realise that you were Viago’s sister,” he added lamely, like that mattered at all. 

Lilya shook her head and waved her hands at the same time with a stricken expression, taking a step forward and bracing a hand on his shoulder, only causing her brother to give them an even fouler look as Teia practically buzzed beside him. “No, of course. Why would you know that? I’m not one to tell anyone he’s my brother. Ever,” she said pointedly, casting a harsh look at Viago, who matched it evenly.           

Lucanis laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get the feeling, it’s the same with my cousin, Illario.” Lilya turned another shade paler and released him, wringing her hands together worriedly. “I… I was hoping to actually speak to you, if you had the time,” he said, finding his courage and offering his hand with a bow, like he was asking her to dance. “Please.” 

Lilya looked between him and Emmrich, unsure of what to do, worrying at her bottom lip. Her eyes flicked to Viago. He was already watching her, mouth pressed into a warning line, jaw working like he was ready to intervene. She shook her head once, small but firm, and gave him a tiny smile-  I'm alright, stay out of it. Viago’s nostrils flared. But he gave a tight nod back, conceding to her, a rare occasion indeed.  “I- we should. We should talk-” 

“That sounds like a great idea, Lilya. Go and get to know Lucanis,” Teia grinned, reaching over and taking the drinks out of both of their hands. “In fact, you should go dance! You can talk and dance at the same time!” 

“No I-”

“Please, Lilya.” 

“I-” 

“If my sister is not feeling up to it-” Viago started, only to be quieted by his lover’s iron-like grip on his forearm. 

“I think Lilya really wants to speak to him, Vi,” she grinned with a crazed look in her eye. 

“We will, Lucanis,” Lilya finally answered, lightly touching his bicep with a concerned expression. “But this may not be the best place or time-” 

Professor Volkarin coughed dramatically, clearing his throat and examining his nails. 

“...Professor?” Lilya looked at him from the corner of her eyes expectantly. 

“Oh? Hmm, if you two feel up for a chat and a quick spin around the ballroom, I’d say that’s exactly the right way to catch up,” he said, voice light but edged with that familiar no-nonsense tone she remembered from when he caught an Honours student plagiarising half his paper. Emmrich had warned him that there were to be no excuses, or the student would be back in First Year before the week was out. Who knew such quiet authority could come wrapped in so much kindness?

“But… I don’t want to cause any more harm.” 

Lucanis smiled, re-extending his hand out to her. “You didn’t, and no harm can come from a dance between two old friends.” 

Lilya nodded and looked back at Emmrich who took her purse from her, quickly whispering in her ear that perhaps fate had different ideas as to how and when it would be best for them to talk- and that he was always there to help Lucanis should he be needed. After taking a moment to smooth out her dress and wipe her sweaty palms on the fine material, she nodded and accepted his hand, shooting final looks at Teia, who flashed her a thumbs up. Viago glared at Lucanis, and Professor Volkarin gave her an encouraging smile. 

He led her onto the floor just as the band played a tune they could waltz to, a respectful distance kept between them, both stiff and awkward in each other’s presence. Lilya was thankful that they were in a brightly lit area, so no one could claim she was doing anything untoward with him. Lucanis started the dance, and she followed easily, as etiquette and ballroom dancing lessons from her youth, which had seemed utterly irrelevant in her past, finally found some use.  

They turned about the room, Lilya focused on counting the steps and following the beat instead of paying attention to Lucanis, who looked just as uncomfortable as she did. She was tempted to break the tension, but he was the one who wanted to talk, so she would let him end their silence. He knew that was how she worked… even if she was no longer his therapist. 

“I-” he said, unsure of where to start, only to be startled when Lilya looked up at him, her eyes wide and alert at being spoken to. 

“Yes?” 

“Oh…” he said, eyes falling onto hers, the wheels in his quick mind churning a mile a minute as he joined the final pieces together. “I… well, that is to say… I’m doing well, Dr de Riva.” 

Lilya’s eyebrows turned upward and her lips pouted, belying her gratitude under such a sorrowful countenance. “That’s so good to hear, Lucanis, I’m glad for you.” 

“I know. I know you are.” He lightly squeezed her right hand in his in a reassuring grip. 

“You have to know, I never meant to hurt you, or do anything that could have potentially hurt you at all. You were my patient, and your well-being meant, means, everything to me. Even though you are no longer under my care,” she said quietly enough, so only he could hear. Lucanis smiled in response and squeezed her hand again to confirm he had heard her, spinning her gracefully and pulling her back in, glad to see her shoulders relax a little. “If I had known he was your cousin, I would have never-”

“Dr… Lilya. It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not okay-” 

“Lilya,” he said more firmly to make her stop and really listen to him. “It’s okay.” 

She shut her mouth after a moment, still staring at him, stunned. “You don’t have to make me feel better about this, that’s not your job, Lucanis. It was a mistake, and I regret the effect it may have had on you. But at the very least, I am glad you have Professor Volkarin in your corner.” 

“And he’s been amazing, the only good thing that’s come out of this, really,” he said, wanting to soothe her worry. Lilya looked him in the eyes again, and a knowing smile began to form on his lips. 

“Oh, there they are again,” he said mysteriously, chuckling to himself. “So obvious, really.”  

“What? What’s here? What’s obvious?” she asked, curious as to what he was talking about.

“... Green,” he replied, tapping under his eye, which further confused her, as the woman looked around the room for a clue. 

“Oh, you mean the decoration? Yes. It’s beautiful, so verdant and bright, a lovely choice, really,” she complimented- and she meant it. Whoever had decorated the room had an eye for beauty and style. 

“Yes, you are very correct. Bright. Lovely choice,” he laughed, shaking his head with mirth, the woman clearly not understanding the theme had been inspired by her, by someone completely taken by the colours in her eyes.  

Lilya shook his hand like an impatient child, a large smile on her face as she fought for his attention. “Lucanis Dellamorte, you must tell me what is so funny.” 

Lucanis smiled at her so earnestly that she felt such a weight lift off her shoulders. The man had always been so expressive; she knew that he wasn’t trying to deceive her - he truly was well, and he didn’t hate her for what she had unwittingly done to him. “Dr de Riva, Lilya, it’s alright, you know.” 

“What is?” she asked, not following his train of thought. 

“I’m alright, with whatever happens moving forward. Whatever you choose. Whatever he chooses, I’m alright with it. I support it- support you both. I didn’t realise that you weren’t just another one of his careless flings. I thought he did it because he was being reckless again, or selfish, or he just didn’t care about the consequences of his actions… but now I know. I know that for a little while there, it was me being careless, me being selfish for not giving him a chance to explain, to understand. And I care, I don’t want that for him. Or for you. If the only reason you two aren’t dancing together right now is because of me, I don’t want that at all. I want the people I care about to be happy.” 

Lilya slowed their turn and set her fingertips more firmly on his shoulder. “Lucanis, be honest. When you first saw me tonight … were you angry?”

His brows drew together, and his mouth opened, but he shut it quickly before nodding once. “For a moment, yes. Not at you. At everything. At myself.”

“Ah.” She let out a soft breath, half relief, half remorse.

He squeezed her hand and coaxed her back into the pattern of the waltz. “It passed. Shock can resemble anger - you told me that once, remember? The second it cleared, I was glad you were here. A little confused why, certainly, but happy all the same.”

“Happy?” The word came out small, incredulous.

“Of course,” his voice steadied. “You helped me reach this point. Seeing you across the room, how could that bring anything but happiness?”

Her shoulders loosened; colour crept back into her cheeks, a small but genuine smile pulling at her mouth at his kind words. 

Lucanis felt the cold distance between them slip. Her sincerity shone through her awkwardness, and for a moment, he could almost pretend she was across from him again, just talking, like she used to, as someone he trusted. Someone who had only ever wanted to help him.

Lilya almost forgot how to stand; her patient, ex-patient, had confirmed everything she had dared to think of asking him without having to breathe a word. 

“You… I will not deny that I do harbour some feelings toward him, but he isn’t my concern. Do you understand what you’re saying? What you’re consenting to? This isn’t something you should think so lightly about, Lucanis. Take a moment. Take a day, a week- even a year, or two! I will abide by whatever you say with no ill will. My private life is not up to you to save, okay? Do not do this because of any concern for me or my well-being, or a misplaced belief that you need to agree to anything because of our past. You need to do what is comfortable and what feels right to you.” 

Lucanis spun her again and pulled her back in, a wry smile on his face. 

“You taught me to speak my mind and my truth. Professor Volkarin has expanded upon that. And if I am allowed happiness, I should be able to grant the same opportunity to those I love. And... I love him. Even if he’s a pain in my ass, he’s always been my brother.” 

“This is not about him or me, but you. Don’t say things on a whim or because you think it’s what I want to hear-” 

“Doctor… seeing him unhappy for the last six months has not brought me joy.” 

“Oh, no, of course not-” 

“It’s a little hard, knowing you think I’m doing this for the wrong reasons. I chose this because it feels right, not because I’m slipping back into my old patterns. When you question that, it almost feels like you don’t see how much I’ve grown.”

Lilya wanted to hug him, but gathered herself swiftly. “I’m making a mess of this, I’m so sorry, Lucanis-” 

“Yes, this is a mess. But trust me when I say, from the deepest parts of myself, that I am okay. I am good. That whatever happens between you two is fine by me, so please let me step aside. Do not make me a part of your decision process moving forward because you already know where I stand on this-” 

“Please, think on this some more-” 

“Oh, that’s Caterina-”

“If you have to go, we can continue this later-” 

“No need- here, take over, will you? Caterina’s calling for me. So sorry, Lilya. I’ll speak to you soon, yes? Good to see you again!” Lucanis said hurriedly, manoeuvring her hands into someone’s hold as she nodded absently and tracked his path through the crowd toward Caterina Dellamorte. The woman stood with a stoic look on her face, but her sharp gaze shifted the moment Lucanis approached, cutting past him to land squarely on Lilya and her new dance partner.

She had barely noticed whose hands Lucanis had placed hers into until the hold changed, gentler and a little uncertain. 

Of course. Illario. Of course.

Somewhere behind them, Lilya heard Teia make a noise suspiciously like a barely stifled cackle. When she glanced back, Teia raised her champagne flute and clinked it lightly against Viago’s glass, not even pretending it was accidental. Her friend’s eyes sparkled, triumphant and far too entertained at her expense, focused on them like a cat watching a pair of mice stumble into the same trap and licking her lips at the deliciousness of it all.

Teia caught her gaze and mouthed, ‘Illario?’ with an arched brow, a grin, and an exaggerated wink that left little doubt she was thrilled. Lilya spun quickly away, her cheeks warm. She knew she owed her a very long debrief once this night was over.

She felt Illario's breath on her cheek... warm and close. And what startled her most wasn’t the nearness, but how easy it was. How natural it felt to be in his arms again. That realisation struck deeper than she expected. Her fingers tightened by reflex, stiffening as if to pull away, something he noticed immediately. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, like he was bracing for her to disappear again. For a second, he didn’t move at all, holding her as lightly as he could, unsure of what to do next.

But she didn’t step away.

Their eyes met, and something held there between them, raw and irrepressible. Slowly, deliberately, he shifted his grip, his sapphire eyes connected to her pale emerald. He slid his fingers between hers, weaving them together instead of resting palm to palm. It was no longer a formal hold. It was a memory, a reach, a quiet liberty taken. Scandalous, though she didn’t stop him… She let him. And for one quiet second, her ache to stay close overwhelmed the whispers of caution in her mind.

The touch settled between them with a weight it shouldn’t have carried. It wasn’t possessive, nor was it laced with hope. It was simply... sincere and unguarded. Their eyes locked, speaking volumes in the silence. Perhaps because neither knew the words, impossible to find in the moment, or because they feared that it would change everything for them once again. They had craved this, yet both were terrified that admitting it would shatter the fragile thread holding them together. To speak, would be to question, to confront a dangerous truth and hear answers they were both too delicate to risk just yet.

The band swept over their silence with a slow three-count. He guided her into the first turn, his posture immaculate, eyes dark, mouth tight, as if the measured steps of the dance were the only ‘words’ he could trust himself to voice.

Lilya thought she heard the click of a camera and whispers of her name, but she was probably just being paranoid. It didn’t matter. The delusion of privacy was shattered all the same. It was too public here. They were not cloaked in a shadowy club this time, surrounded by the safety of anonymity and faceless bodies who did not care about them; here, they were the show.

Their first turn of the floor was stiff. 

One two three, one two three. 

He left a polite inch of air between them in case she drew back. 

One two three, one two three. 

She counted beats because numbers were safer than emotions.

One two three, one two three. 

The second turn had them soften in each other’s presence. Illario’s thumb brushed the back of her hand in a soundless question - is this okay?Lilya let her left hand settle on his shoulder, relaxing in his hold. With each step, they recalled what they had tried to bury and ignore. He moved her through a gentle pivot, and she followed without thought. The intimacy of their position was sweet and sharp, both of them teetering perilously on the edges of their good judgment once again.

The lights and discerning gazes reminded them both of the rules that still applied to them- not here, not now, not yet. Every shimmer of the chandelier felt like a spotlight; every whisper, a possible dagger in their backs. They danced on a stage where one wrong move could unravel them both.

Their final turn carried them past Viago’s guarded stare and Teia’s curious smile. Lucanis sat at the bar, resolute and unburdened, with Professor Volkarin beside him, proud of his patient and happy for his student. 

The silence between them was louder than the music, thick with their tempered longing. The final notes from the band faded, and polite applause rippled across the room, giving way to cheery but inane chatter. Illario and Lilya lingered in place, barely breathing, hands still linked. She hadn’t noticed that she had stopped counting. Just that the dance was over, and she was still standing in his arms.  Both caught between caution and hope, each waiting for the other to pull back first. Neither was ready to move away… or on. Not yet. 

“Would you… Would you like to dance with me… once more, I mean?” Illario rasped, licking his lips like a man who had just been offered his first drop of water after being asleep for far too long. 

Lilya nodded and shifted her hand more securely in his, taking a half step closer to him.

“Yes. Yes, Illario. I would like to dance with you.” 

[waitmyturtles]

I haven't written an Old GMMTV Challenge update in SOOOOOO long, and I was just about to write a short screed compelling folks to think about taking up The Miracle of Teddy Bear, which I'm watching now for the project. I've also made some changes to the list, which I'll report below:

1) I paused Miracle for a couple of weeks to catch up on 2022's Triage, the second in a trilogy of shows by the Y novel writer, Sammon (most recently known for 4 Minutes, and better known for premiering with 2019's Manner of Death). I wanted to catch up on Triage before Spare Me Your Mercy airs, the third show in the MoD/Triage series trilogy. (Sammon has been posting on Twitter recently in anticipation for SMYM, thus my urgency in watching Triage.)

I wasn't intending on including Triage on the OGMMTVC syllabus, but I am, not even indulgently, but because I think if someone's going to situate themselves as a student of Thai BL, then this show should be watched as simply a TOTALLY REMARKABLE queer drama that plays not just with some BL tropes, but with a ton of other television tropes as well (as so wonderfully listed by @dragonsareawesome123!) TRIAGE IS SO FUCKING, FUCKING, FUCKING AWESOME, and I screamed in my liveblogs about it, so fuck yeah, I'm gonna review it soon (after I finish and review Miracle for the sake of chronology).

2) After I get reviews of Miracle and Triage out, I'll finally review GAP, which I watched this summer, and I'm glad I've given myself a lot of breathing room to think about GAP and its longterm impact, because I was gently unhappy with the show as it ended and how its script worked. I know some Idol Factory shows, like The Sign, are known for being bloooated, and I don't think GAP was bloated per se, but it was messy enough for me to think about it more critically than I expected in regards to celebrating Thailand's first GL. (It seems like The Loyal Pin is faring better by way of being a better script? But I haven't conversed with anyone about this yet.)

In any case, this breathing room, along with watching more shows from 2022, allows me to take the full step back I need to to celebrate GAP in its historical glory, notwithstanding the weak script, so that I'll do after I write up on Miracle and Triage.

(By the way. 2022 was a HELL OF A YEAR for Thai BLs. Bad Buddy ends, we got KinnPorsche, Triage, The Miracle of Teddy Bear as Thailand's first queer primetime drama, Secret Crush On You, The Eclipse, Moonlight Chicken is filmed but not aired, My School President premieres. 2023 and 2024 can only weep in jealousy, unfortunately.)

3) Finally, the real reason why I was going to put pen to paper today is that I am not done with The Miracle of Teddy Bear, and it's truly a HEFTY COMMITMENT to watch it, 16 hour-and-a-half-long episodes (meaning, 32 normal episodes) (New Siwaj drools in envy) but part of my thinking, as I start episode 12 tonight, is that I might need to compel my fellow Bad Buddy girlies to give Miracle a try.

If Bad Buddy was remarkable for existing in the no-homophobia-bubble, and using family rivalry and intergenerational trauma as sophisticated stand-ins for homophobia --

Miracle follows in BBS's footsteps as

1) not at all a BL, but a queer drama, Thailand's first major primetime queer drama,

2) a show that absolutely grabs all kinds of homophobia -- internal, external, social, familial homophobia -- by the neck, and reckons and analyzes each kind of homophobia through brilliant writing and character development,

3) a show that STILL, like BBS, grapples with intergenerational trauma, the trauma of adults coming from broken families and committing future harm on their children; as well as reckoning with the impacts of misogyny; as well as reckoning with the impacts of individuals standing up AGAINST social biases, including social homophobia, corporate demands against the environment, interactions with the police, so so much, and

4) a show that STILL commits to realistic development of romantic bonds among multiple couples, using flashbacks intelligently and sensibly, and leveraging romance often to sensibly lighten heavy moments.

I'll let y'all know how I fare as I get to the show's end, but let me just say at this point in time, before I dive into the show's last five episodes, that at least contemplating a watch of Miracle will be utterly satisfying for folks looking for incredible watches as we plod through a few mediocre shows at the present moment. I didn't think it would happen in the course of this syllabus, but I think Miracle is going into my top three of all Thai queer dramas I've ever watched, with Bad Buddy and He's Coming To Me at the top of that list.

[oohnotvery]

Hand To Your Heart: Chapter 8

Read on AO3 here.

tw/cw for pregnancy content in author’s note:

Thank you so much for that warm “welcome back.” I don’t feel like I deserved your generosity or kindness since I completely bailed on this story for so long.

If anyone is interested in a personal update, I’m over halfway to meeting my new baby and unfortunately have had some complications (including a minor surgery last week, thus the delay in posting Chapter 8), but the little guy is healthy and gigantic. We have a name, which is exciting, and my daughter has started carrying a baby doll around and calling it her “baby brother.” So that’s truly precious! We’ll see how she really feels come February.

Okay, but also in personal news—and perhaps this is too personal for Tumblr, but I can’t help myself—I had to withdraw my daughter from her daycare two weeks ago because I caught her teacher HITTING HER across the face. I reported the daycare and the teacher to the appropriate authorities, but oh my god, what if I hadn’t seen it happen?? That was a devastating day and sometimes I still close my eyes and that moment just replays in my mind’s eye over and over and over again. I’ll be sitting in traffic and jolt back to seeing someone hit my little girl and my blood BOILS. Trust no one, indeed.

As to the fic, just a reminder, this story isn’t Mulder/Diana, and it also isn’t Scully/Other! Have no fear.

Mike Stephens seems highly motivated to make the most of their arrangement, because just two hours later, at 4 p.m., he struts into the bull pen as cocky as a rooster.

At first, she doesn’t notice him, only registering a shift in the atmosphere when she sees Mulder’s head lift and his shoulders tense. Following his gaze, she looks up, her cheeks flushing the moment she catches sight of Mike.

Abruptly, she rises to her feet, determined to head this off before it escalates. Part of her wants to shove her new sexual arrangement in Mulder’s face; a much larger part of her demands she conduct her intimate business in private. She catches Mike’s arm before he can cozy up to her desk, steering him towards a nearby conference room where they can be more discreet. But he stops her gently, a wide smile on his face.

“Just wanted to see if you were around tonight,” he says quietly, his face tipped towards hers. “Or am I being too forward?”

She swallows past her embarrassment. Any ordinary person might not catch their muted conversation, but in her peripheral vision, she notices Mulder’s tense posture and the way his head angles towards them. He’s definitely listening.

Remembering herself, Scully flashes Mike a reassuring smile while her brain tries to process her response.

At first, she hesitates. Seeing him tonight would be . . . expeditious. She hasn’t even had a moment to reflect on her impulsive choice to get involved with Mike. Is rushing into something with him tonight a mistake?

And then she remembers Mulder’s plans. He’s going to dinner with Diana tonight—dinner, drinks, and most likely sex. Scully attempts to overlook the reality that she’s centering her choices around Mulder’s plans, and it grates on her more than she’d like to admit. But it’s always been this way between them. From the moment she and Mulder met, she’s anchored her life to his. In a sense, she’s always been destined to revolve around him.

She meets Mike’s gaze and gives a short nod. “Come by at eight?” she offers, keeping her voice low.

His smile widens as he reaches around her to grab a sticky note and pen from her desk. He pushes them towards her.

“Your address?”

Behind them, Mulder turns slightly in his chair and Scully’s face burns brighter. Why is she doing this to herself? He’s a smart guy. He’s going to know she’s just doing it because he’s sleeping with Diana. He knows she isn’t actually interested in Mike—she even admitted it to him many moons ago.

“Dana?” Mike prompts, interrupting her thoughts.

She bites her lip, then scribbles down her information.

She and Mike exchange a few more pleasantries before he retreats towards the elevators. She takes a second to collect herself, combing her fingers through her hair and smoothing down her skirt. She still has about an hour left of work before she’ll allow herself to leave to get ready for tonight. She just needs a moment to calm down and refocus—

Mulder is watching her, his body now fully turned to face her. She catches his gaze and tries not to react at what she sees in his eyes. His gaze is coolly neutral, the face of a profiler, giving little away. But she knows him well, and she thinks she sees something else in there. Hurt, maybe, or confusion. She can’t quite place the emotions. But she does know one thing: he’s onto her.

Pursing her lips, she breaks his gaze and primly takes a seat. Time to get to work.

**

At home, Scully showers and shaves, ignoring the way the razor bobbles in her trembling hands. It takes her thirty minutes to pick out an appropriate outfit. Staring into her underwear drawer is like staring into a timelapse of her short-lived relationship with Mulder. She can’t wear the black lingerie set with Mike tonight—she was wearing those the first time Mulder ever went down on her. She can’t wear the blue set either, because the panties have a tiny rip in the side from where he yanked them off roughly in excitement. In the end, she discover she only owns two pieces of undergarments that Mulder hasn’t touched, and while both pieces are the opposite of sexy, she simply can’t bring herself to wear anything that reminds her of him tonight.

She settles on a black cardigan and black pants, dabs her lips with a thin layer of lipstick, and touches up her eye makeup. She pops open a bottle of wine and drinks half a glass by herself, wondering if Mike will care that her breath smells like alcohol. She highly doubts it. This is just casual sex, nothing more.  

Mike knocks five minutes before eight and Scully’s fists curl into tight, anxious balls as she walks to the door and lets him in. He makes a few standard comments about how nice her apartment is, how it took him a few minutes to find a parking spot, how she lives far from the Hoover Building. She nods and responds with the usual pleasantries, her higher mind taking over even as her internal alarm system begins to register a blind panic.

What the fuck is she doing?

She jumps when he settles his hands at her waist.

“You alright?” he asks, his eyebrows creasing.

She swallows thickly and nods, unable to speak. His hands are too heavy against her hips and he’s standing at the wrong angle. Mulder is so much taller, she realizes idly as Mike tugs her flush to his body. God, and Mulder is stronger too, she realizes as her hands rise automatically to his biceps. He smiles down at her and this time, she robustly fights the urge to compare his lips to Mulder’s. But she can’t help but notice that Mike’s aren’t as full, and his teeth aren’t as straight.

It's obvious before his mouth even touches hers that she’s not going to enjoy this. For Christ’s sake, she chides herself, am I ever going to want another man now that I’ve had Mulder? What have I done to myself?

Her panic escalates as Mike’s tongue darts out to part her lips. It hadn’t occurred to her until this moment that she might get emotional kissing another man. From this point on, she realizes with a sinking heart, Mulder will no longer be the last person I’ve kissed. The thought makes her so queasy that she starts to pull away, but Mike presses into her more firmly. With shock, she realizes he’s already hard.

Don’t do it, don’t do it, she reprimands herself. Don’t make the comparison—

He’s not as big as Mulder either.

“Fuck,” she whispers angrily, pulling away.

Mike opens his eyes and stares at her with concern. “Everything okay?”

She glances up at him, but her mind is somewhere else completely. Mulder is at dinner with Diana, she thinks. He’s wining and dining Diana Fowley and then he’s going to fuck her. He’s going to fuck that woman tonight and he’s not going to be thinking of me. Who cares if Mulder isn’t the last person I've kissed? I haven’t been the last woman he’s kissed in weeks.

Is she really doing this to make herself feel better? Because if so, it’s only making her feel much, much worse. She blinks, trying to clear her thoughts.

“Just needed a minute,” she says nervously, hoping her hesitation comes across as coquettish shyness.

She excuses herself to pour them each a glass of wine, and only after she’s downed hers does she let Mike kiss her again. He moves them to the couch and she idly notes that he’s unbuttoning her cardigan, then her pants. She keeps kissing him for the sake of appearances, but she is nearly apathetic in her arousal. Mike’s fingers drift down to her panties and she wills herself to get wet for him, but she’s too distracted.

“Too much wine,” she says unconvincingly when he glances up at her in question. “I’ve—I’ve had a long day.”

Mike withdraws his hand and settles back against the couch, eyeing her carefully. “Should we postpone?”

“Hmm?” she asks aloofly, as if she hasn’t been completely disinterested in him since the minute he arrived.

He smiles gently. “I get the feeling you’re not quite ready for this tonight.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not that—”

“Dana,” he says kindly, leaning forward, “tonight’s been nice. You’re a beautiful woman and I want to spend more time with you.” He reaches out and brushes her cheek. She tries not to flinch. “But there’s no reason to rush this. Why don’t we rain check?”

She nods dumbly, unable to reconcile the tumult of emotions raging inside her: relief that she doesn’t have to fake it with Mike anymore, and humiliation that she couldn’t go through with her plan. Mulder surely isn’t having trouble getting it up for Diana tonight.

In the end, she and Mike leave it open, tentatively agreeing to catch up again on Sunday. But when the weekend passes and she hasn’t heard from him, she starts to worry that perhaps she’s ruined her chances.

On Monday, Scully enters the bull pen with a brave face. She knows she’ll see Mulder and she suspects that Diana will make an appearance at his desk. How many times will she have to endure watching their relationship blossom in front of her?

But Mulder doesn’t show. By lunchtime, Scully assumes that he and Diana are off together working their case, which is why she’s surprised when the woman in question struts down the hallway and plants herself in front of her desk.

“Agent Scully,” Diana greets her.

“Agent Fowley.”

Diana props a hand against her desk and Scully steels herself for yet another emotionally difficult conversation.

“Have you seen Fox?” Diana asks.

Scully blinks. “Not this morning.”

Diana purses her lips. “And over the weekend?”

Scully shakes her head slowly. “No, I haven’t seen him since Friday.”

“And you haven’t heard from him?”

Scully narrows her eyes. “Is something wrong, Agent Fowley?”

Diana clears her throat, straightening up. Scully can tell she’s trying to act casual, but when Diana speaks, there’s concern in her voice.

“He was supposed to meet me Friday night and he . . . didn’t,” the other woman says. “He hasn’t answered any of my calls or emails either. I tried going by his apartment over the weekend, but he didn’t answer his door if he was there.”

Scully considers this. “Was his car in the parking lot?”

Diana shakes her head. “The building has been mandating street parking lately. I drove around the block and didn’t see his vehicle, but there’s a chance I could have missed it.”

Scully nods thoughtfully, resisting the wave of irritation she feels at not knowing this new development in Mulder’s apartment situation. “And he gave you no indication that he’d be out of pocket all weekend?”

Diana rolls her eyes. “You know how he is. Fox is rarely predictable.”

This may be the first time she’s ever agreed with Diana Fowley on anything, and she finds herself nodding.

“I guess I’ll give him a call,” Scully finally says, chewing her lip. “See if I can get in touch with him.”

Diana nods stoically, but the concern in her eyes is evident. Although it’s not unheard of for Mulder to go missing for days at a time, Scully feels herself growing uneasy at Diana’s reaction. The other agent expected to see him this weekend, that much is clear. After Diana departs, Scully picks up her phone and dials Mulder’s number, immediately getting his voicemail. She shoots him an email, but after an hour with no reply, she starts growing restless.

The day passes and Mulder never shows. Scully tries calling him three more times with no luck. When Mike gives her a ring, she sends him straight to voicemail. When she listens to his message, she learns he wants to come by tonight. Scully swallows hard at the thought. She really needs to force herself to try again with him. One more try, that’s all she needs.

But as she stares at Mulder’s empty chair, she knows exactly how she’s going to spend the rest of her evening. As a courtesy, she shoots Mike an email excusing her absence tonight and suggesting they try later in the week. When five o’clock hits, she jumps in her car and steers it towards Alexandria.

She’s going to find Mulder.

[p5x-theories]

Info on Future Phantom Thieves

(last updated 6/12/25!)

There are currently several known or suspected future Phantom Thieves, and a few other things that may either be related to one of them, or tied to yet another future thief.

Every character listed here matches the file naming convention used exclusively for teammates (story and Phantom Idol), and in most cases, this is the main reason they're listed here. Some of them may ultimately turn out to be inaccurate (we've seen the developers change plans in real-time), but this list contains all the characters indicated by the files for information's sake.

The first is Aran Hirano. Her codename, at least in the files, is indicated to be Polter.

She first appears in the story riding on the train at the same time as Wonder, Motoha, and Ruferu. Wonder and Ruferu unknowingly catch her attention, and she digs around in her bag for her sketchbook as the train is stopped. However, when she looks back, she’s confused to find they’ve vanished into thin air (as they used the MetaNav to enter Mementos). Later, at the end of Chapter 2, she appears in a cutscene where she notices a strange app appeared on her phone, and is nearly hit by the Rush Rider while crossing the street.

In Chapter 3, we see she recognizes Wonder from the train when she runs into him in Shinjuku, and seems to have taken an interest in the mystery around him. She overhears the Phantom Thieves talking about some Metaverse-related concepts, but they don't see her. She later notices Wonder meeting up with the others again, and overhears them talking about the calling card just before it pops up on everyone's phones. Later, she eavesdrops on them again when they return from the Metaverse with Katayama and Akashi's Treasures, and the following conversation plus her reactions imply she may be the author of "Phantom Thief Family", a manga that Motoha enjoys.

In Chapter 4, it's confirmed she's the author of that manga, and helping with Kiga High (her school) and Kokatsu Academy's co-production of a stageplay based on it. She declares (heavily implied to be lying) that the Phantom Thieves are a "perfect match" for the Phantom Thief Family play's main cast, and essentially holds Kiga's own play rights hostage in order to force the co-production to happen so she can work with them. She later helps Wonder get more information on Takami Shimotsuna, and reveals to the Phantom Thieves that she knows their identities. This leads them to be incredibly suspicious of her, especially when Riko discovers she has the MetaNav on her phone.

She also makes a brief cameo in the first opening animation for P5X (the greyscale image of her above), a significant appearance in the second opening animation, and when asked whether she would join the team in the future, the game's producer only replied that he doesn't want to spoil anything. All of this heavily suggests she'll be a story teammate, likely joining next after Luce.

The name of the third one is confirmed to be Narumi Nashimoto, and while her files are labeled as "Liben", her codename was later indicated by her voice lines in the Akihabara Puzzle Event to be Lume. The Lume codename first appeared in Version 1.3.2’s files, but wasn't confirmed to be Narumi until Version 3.0.2 when these voice lines were added. Narumi was later included on TapTap's Confidants stat page accidentally (it was quickly fixed), suggesting Lume will be a 5-star character. Narumi recently won the first anniversary's future Confidant vote, and thus has been promised to have her Confidant prioritized.

She can be seen during several of Wonder’s Confidant events with Merope. She stands outside a maid cafe in Akihabara, and offers them flyers for the cafe (though Merope's overeager interrogation based on what she's learned about idols does throw Narumi off for a moment). Later, when Wonder and Merope return to the cafe, she recognizes them, and acts as their server. Merope is heavily invested in doing everything exactly as she learned from her research, but this time Narumi takes it in stride.

After a moment, Narumi receives a phone call, and has to step away briefly. The player overhears part of the conversation- she calls the person on the other end her older sister, and tells her there is bento from her part-time job in the fridge. Eventually she comes back, and Merope orders enough food that Narumi gives her a special coupon to take pictures with her.

Merope mentions repeatedly visiting the cafe after this, and she and "Naruru" seem to grow closer as friends, as Narumi recognizes her by name, Merope defends her from a pushy fan, and Narumi even opens up to her about her money troubles, working multiple jobs, and her enjoyment of being an idol. Merope later has Wonder steal the heart of Narumi's greedy, insensitive producer, which allows Narumi to continue working as an idol rather than being forced to graduate.

She later plays a role in the Akihabara Puzzle Event, helping run the event as well as one of the missions.

Her introductory appearance in another Confidant being voiced, and her general relevance to that Confidant from that point on, are both very similar to known Phantom Idols, such as Yukimi and Reo. As such, she seems likely to be a Phantom Idol, rather than a story teammate, assuming plans for her haven't changed.

The name of the fourth one is confirmed to be Tamayo Yoshida, and her codename in the files is Jitianzhudai, though this seems to be her Chinese name rather than a codename.

She first appears towards the middle of Motoha’s Confidant, having known Motoha in the past when they played baseball together as kids, and now being part of a high school girls’ baseball team. She wants Motoha to join her team, seeing Motoha as her “eternal rival” even as Motoha’s gotten rusty from not playing baseball for so long, and hopes to eventually revive women’s professional baseball.

When Motoha declines to join- angry that Tamayo insulted Wonder by implying he's a bad coach- Tamayo ends up challenging her to a competition to see who can hit the most home runs at the batting cages in Yongen-Jaya. If Tamayo wins, Motoha will join her baseball team, but if Motoha wins, Tamayo will take back what she said about Wonder. She tells Motoha to call her whenever she's ready to face off, and leaves.

Later on, as Motoha trains for their confrontation, Tamayo talks to Wonder about her determination towards baseball, and a bit about her past with Motoha. Wonder, however, makes her slightly reconsider whether forcing Motoha to join her team is the right approach. When Motoha calls her back and lets her win the challenge, Tamayo ends up letting her keep training rather than keeping up their agreement that Motoha will have to join her team.

Like Narumi, with her introductory appearance in another Confidant being voiced, and her general relevance to that Confidant from that point on, she seems likely to be a Phantom Idol, rather than a story teammate, assuming plans for her haven't changed.

This character's name is confirmed to be Takumi Serizawa, and her files codename is Lailizetuomei, though this seems to be her Chinese name rather than a codename.

She has portraits and a real-world 3D model, as well as an SNS icon. Concept art for her was shown briefly in a promotional video.

She appears during Shun's Confidant, at the same restaurant as he and Wonder are visiting. She recognizes Shun's name, and comments to herself that he seems "quite promising". In Shun's next event, she approaches him (he recognizes from her business card that she's a very famous food consultant in the catering industry) and invites him to participate in an upcoming ramen competition.

She then makes later appearances, constructively critiquing Shun's dishes as he tries to figure out what to submit to the competition. When asked why she's going out of her way to help him, she admits that Shun's work ethic reminds her of her father's own work ethic. Shun later impresses her with his next dish after that.

Like Narumi, with her introductory appearance in another Confidant being voiced, and her general relevance to that Confidant from that point on, she seems likely to be a Phantom Idol, rather than a story teammate, assuming plans for her haven't changed.

Added with the start of Chapter 4, Shimotsuna's secretary, confirmed to be named Daichi Ousaka, was added, and his 3D model notably matches the thief naming convention as well, though his files codename is Fengbandadi, which is again likely just his Chinese name.

Notably, as he works for the fourth Palace ruler, he has a role in the main plot. However, given Luce already has joined the team for Chapter 4, if he does ever become playable, it seems more likely he'd just be a Phantom Idol.

Another 3D model matching the thief naming convention was added in Version 2.1.1; her files codename is Tengdao (likely part of her Chinese name), and she also has an SNS icon, but nothing else is known about her at the moment.

Another possible aspect related to future Phantom Thieves is the “Pegasus” Persona in the files.

Besides the battle portrait above, Pegasus has a 3D model as well. There’s no indication of whose Persona Pegasus is, however. It could be any of the potential thieves listed above, or someone else entirely. Its only other appearance is in the unexplained recolored art with Yuki from the first beta's files.

On 4/17 there was a leak on the official TapTap stat tracker confirming/revealing several future Confidants, and new Confidants have previously stated to always be 5-star Phantom Idols (if they're not a story teammate). The characters who are not already playable, or listed elsewhere on this post, include: Musubi Matsukata (listed separately from YUI, which could mean she'll get a variant alongside this Confidant) and Kumi Katayama.

Related to the above, and mentioned earlier in this post, for the first anniversary they held a vote about future Confidants the players would like to see. Aside from Narumi winning, Kumi Katayama was in second place, and has been promised to have her Confidant prioritized. The orange cat, the music club girl, Saki Shirai, and the animals girl- all current or beta test side quest characters- were also in the top 10, which are promised to have Confidants added eventually, though not prioritized as much as the top 3. Again, new Confidants have previously stated to always be 5-star Phantom Idols, which gets a little less consistent when it comes to preexisting 4-stars (see Key and Puppet), but should guarantee at the very least that these five will be added as Phantom Idols.

Finally, there are some voice lines for a teammate indicated as "Lisette" that have been in the files since the first beta. It's currently completely unknown who this is outside of these voice lines, but they definitely belong to a playable character, as they mention shadows and "her desires".

[audrey-carr1]

The Heiress and the Lady of the House (Part 8)

A/N: Sorry for the late updates. I got a new job, and it takes up my weekdays leaving me the weekends to rest and write. You know I did not think this would end this way when I first started. I hope you all have enjoyed the story thus far. There may be an epilogue coming soon. Someone also suggested that I could write this from Hetty's point of view, and that doesn't sound like a bad idea.

warnings: fem!reader, Hetty x Reader

Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Want to Read on Ao3? Click here

“I’ll give you two time to talk, but I want an answer soon,” Death says before disappearing

Hetty nods solemnly to herself, thinking about what she was told. She looks at me, a look in her eyes that I cannot place. 

“I want you to be happy, truly,” Hetty says.

“Hetty, please-” She places a finger over my lips shushing me before brushing her thumb across my lips. Her hand cups my cheek, and I place my hand on top of hers. 

“You can be with your parents, it’s okay. You’d have peace, the night terrors would stop. You deserve to be happy without loss, my love,”

“But I am happy with you!” I say teary eyed. 

“If we are meant to be we’ll find each other again.” Hetty begins to cry, “I know what it’s like to not have your parents around. Especially not growing up with a mother. If you have that chance, I’d give it to you without a shadow of a doubt. I want you to have every good thing in the world. You have been running from what happened for years, and I have come to believe that you are using us to help you not face your problems. I know it’s not malicious, but I cannot watch you lose yourself to us. I’m telling you ”

“You’re leaving me?” I ask. 

Hetty sighs. Of course, that’s the only thing you heard from her speech. Hetty grabs your shoulders and waits for you to look her in the eyes. 

“I can’t offer you anything in our world,” Hetty says, “This relationship would go nowhere. Literally.”

“Hetty you came all of this way to get me only to try and leave me?” I say. 

“If it means giving you something better then yes, I will let you go.  If I let you go, I can give you more. Does it hurt? Yes, and it’s taking every fiber of my being to not be selfish and keep you all to myself,”

“I do not want for anything, Hetty,” I beg, “Only you. Please don’t let me go.”

“I will not allow you to wait idly while your life passes you by. Do more than I could, live your life beyond Woodstone. I’ll be okay…we’ll be okay,” Hetty kisses me chastely, “You’ll be okay.”

“Hetty please do not make me choose. I don’t…I can’t” My face is wet and warm with tears. My fingers clutch the fabric of her dress fearing that if I let go then this will all be over. 

“It’s okay,” Hetty says wrapping me in an embrace.

“I thought you loved me,” I sob. 

“I do love, so much if I were alive it would kill me. You have made quiet the impression,” Hetty says wiping away her own tears. 

Hetty couldn’t bring herself to say that she knows what you’re night terrors are about. How in your sleep you still call out for your mother. How you’ll mumble about your dad sometimes in the wee hours of the morning. She would never tell you that one night she asked Sass to enter your dreams, and she’ll never forget the empty expression that was on his face when he relayed what he saw. 

Hetty couldn’t allow you to live like that any longer. Sure she would go back to life as it was before you. She’ll miss having her arms wrapped around someone. She would miss having someone who understood the multiple complex layers of her personality. She’ll miss watching you interact with everyone and hearing your infectious laugh. She’ll miss catching the hijinks that you and Trevor would cook up. Hetty hates that it took losing you to realize how much joy and life you brought to Woodstone. Something that wasn’t there even when Hetty was alive. 

Hetty knew that if she were to allow you to come back with her, you would never leave. You’d never grow into the person that you are destined to be. Stifling your growth would be worse than breaking your heart. At least in Hetty’s eyes, it would be. As selfish as Hetty wants to be, she has to let you go. At least this way it doesn’t cause either of you pain you would remember. 

“Hetty?” I ask, “Hetty, what happened that day when I crossed the boundary?”

Hetty’s mind flashes back to that day. Her stomach is twisted in knot as she replays the image of you layed on the floor being worked on my paramedics. The feeling of losing you so intense it makes her spin even now. Hetty takes a shuddering breath before she finds the words to speak. 

“It was a very painful ordeal to watch. It all happened so fast. I woke up to noise downstairs, and I saw you being carried in. You stopped breathing,” Hetty stops her voice too shaky to continue.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to continue,” I say taking her hand. 

 “What did it feel like for you?” Hetty asks.

“I didn’t feel a lot really. Apparently, the reason I felt so crappy before is because my soul, or what was left of it, was trying to attach to Woodstone. Since the other part was here, when I crossed the boundary I cam here. This is the place where-”

“Where the girl pushed you. Riley told me after I had asked,” Hetty says, “It’s okay you don’t have to talk about it,” Hetty says. 

She pauses for a moment, and then continues,“So this was inevitable, you would have had to cross the boundary at some point.” 

“Yeah I guess so,” I respond.

“And I’m at the hospital now?” I ask already knowing the answer. I just want the confirmation that I’m still alive. 

“In a coma,” Hetty nods, “I only found you because we did a reverse seance,”

“A reverse seance?” I ask. 

“The ghosts sent me to you instead of asking you to come back. We were afraid that if your soul came back to Woodstone it would be trapped as a soul forever. This whole ghost thing can be very tricky,” Hetty laughs before her lips go back to being pressed in a fine line. 

At some point we find ourselves sitting, and I watch as Hetty draws mindless shapes in the sand. 

“I can’t remember the last time I played with sand,” Hetty says a bit amused by her own actions. 

I watch her a little longer before speaking up again. 

“You’re not going to let me come back with you, are you? I ask looking at her. 

“You are a woman who can make her own decisions, but I would advise against it,” Hetty says not looking up from the drawings. 

I don’t respond. My mind wanders to the possibilities that lay infront of me. I lean against Hetty and she wraps her arm around me.

“If you could leave Woodstone, what would you do? What would you be?” I ask. 

Hetty's smiles at the question, her eyes staring out into the distance as she ponders her answer. 

Hetty laughs softly before saying, “Here’s something I haven’t told you. I used to design dresses. I never made them, but with drawing skills, I could sketch some of the best designs. I had a few of them made, and I wore them. It felt nice to have original works that no one else could get their grubby little hands on,” 

I laugh at the last comment. 

“I think you would be a great designer,” I say. 

—--

“When did you first know you liked me?” I ask. 

“I’ve always liked you,” Hetty says smiling. 

“I mean romantically,” I say nudging her, and Hetty laughs. 

“Well, I remember seeing you for the first time. That was the first time I think my heart skipped a beat without it being cocaine-related,” Hetty says, “I think I knew I liked you when we would go on our walks together or when we would have our moments alone. I looked forward to those moments more than I would have cared to admit in the past. I knew I was in love with you the night we danced. When I had you in my arms…I think about that moment all the time. Especially since that is when we first kissed. I knew from that moment that I was head over heels in love with you.”

“When did you know you liked me? Hetty asks me this time. 

“I’ve always liked you,” I reply grinning. 

“Using my words against me I see,” Hetty smirks. 

“I knew I liked you the moment I laid eyes on you. I fell for you literally, and you caught me. I saw our forever in your eyes,” I lean in closer to her laying my head on her shoulder.

“You are rather clumsy,” She says matter of factly leaning into me. 

“Hey!” I say in self defense, and we both laugh. The laughing dies down and gives way to silence. The sound of the water and wind rustling the leaves the only things making noise. 

“What are you going to choose?” Hetty asks looking at me this time. 

“I’m not sure,” I reply softly,  “Hetty I don’t want to lose you.” 

Tears begin to fall down my face, and I bite my lip to keep from sobbing. 

“You won’t lose me. I promise you won’t lose me. No matter what memories may be lost, we’ll still have each other someway,” Hetty says wiping the tear from my face, “My love is so strong for you. Though you won��t remember me, and I won’t remember you my love will always be there. I can feel it.”

Hetty has to fight back tears herself, “I’ll be the sun that kisses warmth on your skin, I’ll be the clearest day when the rain is done. Not even a shake of an earthquake could break my love. That’s how strong my…our love is. We’ll find a way to each other again. In some other lifetime, we’ll be together. I know it,” 

Hetty leans in, and I do the same. Our lips meet in a kiss. This kiss is different. It is uplifting and heartbreaking at the same time. Filled with sweet memories and regrets. We pour ourselves into kiss grasping for just a bit more of each other before the inevitable happens. We hold on to the other almost afraid to let the other one go. I break away from the kiss and look at Hetty. 

“I love you,” I say

“I love you too,” Hetty says

—----

In some other life - June 2025

We walk inside the shop, the bell above the door sounding above us. We are greeted warmly by the staff, and given complimentary glasses of champagne. Movement at the top of the stairs brings our attention in that direction. A striking pair of blue eyes meet mine. I feel as if the air has been sucked out of the room, and my heart skips a beat. I take in the woman’s appearance.

Curly red hair, piled into a messy bun with a pencil sticking out from it. They are dressed in black slacks and a dark teal top. A string of pearls around her neck. A tape measure hanging carefully from her fingers.

There is something familiar about her, but I can’t place it. I hate that feeling when you think you’ve seen someone before, but you know you haven’t. I’m brought from thoughts as the woman descends the final step and walks over to us. 

“Welcome to House of Woodstone, I am the Lady of the House, Henrietta, but you can call me Hetty.”

Nadine and Riley both introduce themselves taking her hand in greeting. 

Hetty gets to me, and my heart flutters again. 

“You must be, (y/n),” 

I’ve gone mute, and I can only nod. I’ve never been rendered speechless by such beauty before. She outstretches her hand, and I take it in greeting. 

“Her skin is so soft, and she smells of bergamot, my favorite,” I think to myself

“Well (y/n), we must get you fitted for your dress,” Hetty says placing a hand on the small of my back to lead me into the dressing room. I try to fight the blush that threatens to overtake my cheeks at the gesture.

The blushing gets harder to fight when her hands work on the dress. I feel like I may die just by her being this close to me. I feel the warmth of her hands as she smooths over parts of the dress. 

“We’re going to get some more champagne, we are all out,” Nadine says taking Riley with her. Hetty and I acknowledge their departure before Hetty goes back to working on the dress. 

“Why don’t you try walking in it for me,” Hetty says. 

I nob taking some of the dress in my hand to have room for my feet. Ofcourse in my clumsy nature I trip trying to come down from the raised platform. Before I hit the floor, I’m wrapped in a pair of strong arms. 

“Clumsy?” Hetty says. 

“Awfully so,” I reply as he helps me into an upright position. Her hands rest on my hips, and I steady myself, resting a hand on her arm. 

“We’re back! We got the whole bottle this time,” Nadine announces. 

Hetty and I move from each other quickly as if we had been scalded by the other’s touch. Hetty clears her throat and gestures for me to walk. 

“Well seeing you don’t have trouble walking in the dress, I think the final alterations will be quite simple,”

“Did she ask about the bust?” Nadine says sitting on the couch.

“The bust?” Hetty asks, quirking an eyebrow up. 

“Don’t listen to her,” I say quickly. 

“No please do. She is a little shy, but we both think,” Nadine gestures between herself and Riley, “That she has a killer rack and it should be displayed but you know tastefully. Is there a way to help accentuate that,”

“Please forgive her she’s had too much champagne I think” I  apologize.

Hetty turns to me a look a mischief in her eyes before turning to Nadine, “Yes, I think I can do that. Especially if we-” 

I nearly choke on my spit when I feel Hetty’s hands on my under bust. She does some more adjusting, and I am practically squirming. I exhale sharply when her hands come to adjust my chest a bit. 

“Are you comfortable with this?” Hetty asks a faint look of concern in her eyes. 

“No, no I’m fine. It’s just uh I’m not used to dress fittings.  I’m just a little flustered, but I’m fine. Keep going,” I say and then I realize my words, “ I mean-”

“I know what you mean,” That mischievous gleam is back in her eyes. 

Once she finishes we all look in the mirror.

“How’s this?” Hetty asks. 

“It’s perfect! The cleavage is impeccable. My mouth is watering already,” Nadine laughs

I groan to myself. This is the last time I allow Nadine to come with dress shopping. 

“Well, I would hate for a killer rack to go to waste,” Hetty says her hand lingers a bit on the exposed skin of my shoulder. She winks at me in the mirror, and I feel weak-kneed again. I take the glass of champagne from the table next to me, and I down it one go. I’m a goner. 

I look to Riley and Nadine, and the two of them are walking amongst themselves. I don’t they’ve noticed anything, especially the flirting. 

“I’ll have the dress ready for you by tomorrow,” Hetty whispers to me before leaving the room. I can’t help but watch her walk away, and I do not fight staring at the extra swing in her hips as she leaves. 

—--

The Ball - Still June 2025

The night of the ball is more exhausting than I thought. Meeting and talking to people I really do not have much interest in. The only person I can think of right now is Hetty, and her eyes. The feel of her hands and the sound of her voice. 

I press my drink to my chest, hoping the chill of the glass will help fight the warmth I feel. 

“The dress looks like it was made for you,” A voice says from behind. 

I turn around to thank the person, and to my surprise it’s Hetty. 

“Hi, Henrietta, sorry I mean Hetty,” My cheeks flush, and I kick myself for stumbling over my words.

“It’s okay…” She pauses,” I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I quite like the way you say my full name,”

“I’ll admit. I also like the way you say mine,” I add,”  I love the dress too.”

“I’m glad you do,” She smiles and I do the same, “ I never thought I would make a dress for an heiress,” 

“Aren’t you one?”

“You’ve done your research,” She says a bit impressed, “It’s different when it’s a new silhouette.” 

We stand in silence watching the room and the people in it. I rack my brain to find something…anything to say. I’ve never been rendered speechless by someone before, and it is awfully frustrating. 

“So…” Hetty says breaking the silence. 

“So…” I repeat trying to find something to say to fight the awkwardness in the air. I could facepalm myself for how dumb I must sound. 

“Where is your girlfriend?” Hetty asks before taking a sip from her wine glass. 

“Girlfriend?” I ask.  I look at her and I notice her cheeks turn pink. 

“The woman you came to the dress shop with,” She says casually 

“Nadine?” I ask. 

She nods. 

 “Oh no, she’s not my girlfriend just a friend that is a girl. She is very flirty with and without alcohol,” I clarify. 

Hetty tries not to react strongly to the news that you may be single after all. She schools her features and prepares herself for the next question.

“My apologies, I assumed that since she called looking for a dress for you that you two were together,” Hetty clears her throat before continuing, “And the boy? Is he a friend that happens to be a boy?”

“Yes, in fact he is,” I reply with a small smile. 

Hetty gives an internal utterance of gratitude. Again silence overtakes the both of you, but neither of seem to mind in this moment. You both enjoy each other’s company even if words aren’t being exchanged. 

Hetty can’t describe the feeling she has just by standing next to you. She tries hard not stare, and keeps her eyes trained on the others in the room. 

The orchestra begins to play, and I immediately recognize the tune. Lana Del Rey’s rendition of Once Upon A Dream. 

“I must be feeling very bold tonight, but would you like to dance?” Hetty asks extending her hand for me to take. A feeling of nervousness overtakes Hetty as she realizes that you could say no. That she could have been overstepping a bit. 

I look at the outstretched hand.

“Yes, I would. I have to tell you that I am not well versed in the art,” I reply

“It’s okay, I’ll lead,” Hetty says

I try to fight the butterflies in my stomach that flutter when Hetty places my hand on her waist and then places her hand on my waist. Her other hand skates down my forearm, and I gasp softly at the sensation. Her other hand slips into mine easily, and we begin to waltz with the rest of the crowd. We move around the room as if we are the only ones here. 

The air feels heavy, and the tension around us could be cut with a knife. 

“I have been trying to recall where I know you from. You seem awfully familiar,” Hetty says 

“As do you,” I say, “I have never felt a strong connection with someone I’ve just met before. ” I say.

She smiles, “Neither have I.”

As we dance we prattle places we could have seen each other, but nothing rings a bell for the other.

“Are you single?” I ask. 

Hetty smirks at the question. Her tongue darting out to quickly dance across her lips. My breath hitches at the sight. I breathe sharply through my nose, and I tear my eyes away from her lips. 

“I am,” Hetty says matter-of-factly. 

She looks me in the eye, and I am thankfully she has a decent grip on me otherwise I’m sure my clumsy feet would have the best of me again. She pulls me in closer closing in any of the remaining gap between us. I’m not sure who’s heart could be the one hammering. 

Her eyes look to my lips, back to my eyes, and then my lips again. 

“May I be bold once more?” Hetty asks. 

“Please,” I reply.

Her lips meet mine, and it feels like my soul has finally found its missing piece. The cliches about the feelings of true love’s kiss finally make sense. My world finally makes sense. To anyone else, we would look like a couple instead of two practically strangers. 

The kiss breaks, we are in public after all. 

“I apologize, I have never been so forward before,” Hetty says 

“No it’s okay. I wish I would have been as forward,” I say hoping she doesn’t leave.

“Are you sure we haven’t met before?” Hetty asks again. 

“Maybe in some other life,” I say. 

Hetty smiles, kissing my lips again before continuing to lead the dance. I hum the lyrics and laugh to myself at the irony and slight accuracy of the lyrics. 

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do

You’ll love me at once

The way you did once upon a dream

-Fin-

A/N: Ah the final installment! I should probably get to work on the other stories huh?

[athena-the-undestructible]

So many of you may be familiar with the character in my PFP Leaf, but you may not be familiar with the weird group of characters she's part of who all are similar to each other but not exactly the same character.

First we gotta go back to the first generation when Game Freak hadn't even added Female Protagonists to the games yet (Average Tumblr Users' Dream).

The lead artist, Ken Sugimori, drew up the cover for the strategy guide and wanted a third person alongside the existing protagonist and rival so he drew up a female protagonist.

She got other appearances here and there but nothing too major.

However she was adapted into the Pokémon Adventures Manga and she is delightful.

She's basically the wild card of the trio, being a trickster, scam artist and cheater who stole her starter and will do anything to get ahead. Obviously she's got a lot more to her which gets revealed much later on and gets a character arc but that's the baseline to her.

Obviously she's my favourite character in the Manga.

There's a bit of confusion with her name though since due to some weird localisation with the games, she swaps names with the main rival so in Japan she's Blue and in English she's Green. I'll be referring to her as Blue since it's the first name that comes to mind.

Anyway the Gen 1 games got remade for the Game Boy Advance and by this point the games had a Female Protagonist as standard and so a new one had to be made for the remakes.

Ken Sugimori, who designed the other girl, took her into account when drawing up this new one although she had her own thing going on as well and that's how we got Leaf.

Obviously she is quite different to Blue, pretty different fashion sense and all and there's another aspect to her design which I'll explain in a minute.

But where the confusion really began is when the Manga adapted the Gen 1 remakes and updated everyone's designs, well Red and Green had new designs ready to go but Blue was a bit trickier so they ended up just giving her Leaf's design.

The characters had some similarities before but here's the point where it becomes confusing to some if Blue and Leaf are the same character or not, personally I'm not a huge fan of this change since I feel Leaf's design lacks too much of Blue's traits to be a smooth transition.

Hell younger me tried to make a design that still updated Blue for the remakes while making her recognisable. Although I am way too self conscious to actually release it so let's just move past that.

The main aspect to Leaf's design can be seen if we put her alongside Red, the male protagonist of the game.

If you look closely, Leaf is kinda supposed to be a female version of Red, having similar hair at the top, a reversed version of his colour palette and other aspects that parallel him.

Hell the two never meet in-game which was unique as meeting the character you didn't choose was the style at the time for Pokémon and was done in Gens 3-6 and the Gen 2 remakes.

She's not treated as such nowadays but Leaf being a parallel version gives her something unique and as such I like to have her separate to Blue, especially since the personality I gave her is different to the petty criminal thing Blue has going on.

And to add more fuel to the fire, Gen 1 got another remake on Nintendo Switch that kinda half adapts the original and half does it's own thing (as opposed to the more faithful GBA remakes) and so it's protagonists are very much their own characters.

But that didn't stop them adding the original lot as side characters and as part of their half hearted attempt to reference the Manga, they added a third character alongside Red and Green.

It's Blue, she's an amalgamation of Manga Blue and Leaf's designs and once again is doing something completely different, she's a girl completely obsessed with Mewtwo and catching it and even when you do, she will throw Pokeballs at you so she can catch you and thus catch Mewtwo.

She's alright I guess.

Ok that's the informative side out the way, now it's time for the elephant in the room, why is Leaf my PFP?

Well if you know me well enough then you probably noticed something absent when I was talking about Leaf being a female version of Red and yes, it's an extremely obvious Trans allegory and probably the most obvious until we get into recent Pokémon games given there's nothing stopping Red and Leaf from being the same person.

It's so obvious in fact that I noticed even before I noticed I was Trans, although this was after I'd already picked Leaf on a playthough of the game after years of picking Red so I was already on the pipeline.

Yeah Leaf was very important on my journey and she's a very easy Trans Allegory in herself with context so she was a very simple choice for my PFP.

Despite all that and the fact that Pokémon protagonists are deliberately made blank slates for you to project on, I never imagine her being much like me, more like being similar to Red, dead quiet and very skilled at battles, but also with a sinister side.

Does this look like the face of mercy?