#And Gil is actually genuinely oblivious

[softquietsteadylove]

in your latest piece of the receptionist au thena feared that gilgamesh would fall in love with somebody else one day. what if gil has a business meeting with a woman who wants to lay a hand on him. and one day thena wanted to grab something from her desk and has to see how this woman is kissing gilgamesh and Thena runs upstairs, tears in her eyes. and after gil is done with his crime business for the day he wants to spend some time with thena but she's avoiding him. he tries to talk to her but she's so angry and sad and so scared. she thinks gil has enough and doesn't want her anymore. some angsty fluffy drama :)

Thena taps her pen on the desk. Gil is in a meeting with some woman who runs casinos...or something. They have profit shares to discuss, and Thena has no reason to barge in on them.

No excuse, really.

She doesn't want to feel this way. It's not as if she would have any reason to feel insecure with someone as wonderful as Gil. For a hardened criminal, he really is the most wonderful partner she could imagine having.

Maybe that's it, though--the criminal part. Maybe she worries that he misses this life. He's been thriving since they came back to Korea to do some business again. So much so, that they extended their visit. And Thena can see some of the worries that settled into him since moving to London lift off of him.

Does he miss being a crime boss? Does he feel too suffocated in London, stuck in her flat all day, playing househusband for her?

Thena stands abruptly, determined to just...just...just ask if he needs anything before she runs out to the store. It's a lame excuse, but he's been a meeting with that woman for an hour, now. And Thena saw clear as day the way she looked at Gil.

Thena knows very well that Gil is a desirable man. She doesn't expect other people to be ignorant to it, after all. But it would be nice if she hadn't seen the woman literally lick her lips at the sight of him.

Thena opens the door, ready to ask if he wants a convenience store drink or something. But what she sees - before the door is even all the way open - is that woman, freely and happily leaning over Gil in his chair. Her hands are on his arms, and she's...she's kissing him.

Thena turns. She walks towards the elevators, practically sprinting the second half of the way. She slams her fingers against the buttons, desperate to escape what she just saw.

It's burned into her mind, though. That woman's silken black hair, the perfect ivory of her skin, her petite and willowy form. Her lips on Gil's. Her lips touching Gil's lips. Her hands on his arms--arms he uses to hold her every night, after work, after dinner, in their shared bed-

She storms off the elevator into the penthouse above his office. She feels absolutely sick, her breath coming in short gasps and her tears stinging her eyes. Her hands are shaking. She walks through the penthouse and directly to their bed, throwing herself onto it and pulling the covers up over herself. She curls herself up into a ball, trying to ignore Gil's half of the bed with his scent still clinging to it.

She doesn't know how long she lies there for. Obviously she's not doing a very good job as his receptionist, but fuck that. Fuck all of this. And fuck that woman for kissing her Gilgamesh like she has any fucking right.

She used to think about this, she reminds herself. She used to feel like such a lost little fawn when she first moved to Korea, literally trying to rebuild her life from the ground up. And then as she fell in love with her boss, her life got...rebuilt around that--around him. And the thought of having to see him fall in love with someone would plague her when she was harbouring those quiet feelings from afar.

She wonders if it would be as painful as this is now.

"Naekkeo?"

Thena sniffles, staying wrapped up in her cocoon of sheets and duvet. She could have left the building, she supposes. She could have locked the bedroom door and told him to go fuck himself. But why didn't she?

"Thena," Gil calls out softly as he walks into the bedroom. He takes cautious steps, trying to gauge how she's doing. "Sweetheart, will you look at me?"

She stays closed off. She doesn't hear him walk away, though. "Why?"

"Please, Gongjunim?" he tries again, with a different petname for her. He moves closer, sitting on her side of the bed at her feet. "I don't know what you saw-"

Thena stretches out her legs, giving him a bony kick right in the hip. She hears him grunt and finally pokes her head out. "You mean that associate of yours kissing you?"

Gil nods, and she wonders if she expected him to try and deny it or not. She wonders if she wishes he had at least tried to deny it a little. "Before I kicked her out?--yes, she did kiss me."

Thena throws herself against her pillow again.

"Baby, please," Gil sighs, leaning over so he can push the duvet down and brush her hair away from her face. "You know I don't want anyone but you."

She does know that, but she doesn't feel any less stupid over it.

"I told her to get away from me," Gil whispers, pressing light kisses wherever she'll let him. "That I'm very happy in my relationship with you."

Thena slowly turns over to look at him.

He sighs, more able to see now that she's been crying. He pulls her up to him, brushing his thumbs over the reddened corners of her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Thena. You know I would never do anything to hurt you."

She does know that.

"I love you," he whispers, kissing her softly, one hand on her waist and the other tangled in her hair, just the way he likes it.

Thena pulls away from him, and the devastated look on his face is almost enough to wipe away the vision of that woman all over him. "I can still see her, leaning over you-"

"I'm sorry," he whispers again, obviously prepared to keep on apologising as many times as it takes. "It came out of nowhere!"

Thena levels a look at him that makes the hardened crime lord shrivel. "Nowhere, Gil?"

He catches her meaning and offers her an impish smile, "come on, Sweetheart. You know what I'm like with that kind of thing."

Yes, she has extensive experience with how dense he is to someone having feelings for/being attracted to him.

"You really didn't notice," Thena glares, crossing her arms at him. He rests his chin on the hand on top of her knees, looking like a dog being scolded. "The hand brushing, the light arm touches, the eyelash fluttering?--none of it?"

Gil stares right up at her with those big dark eyes of his, "no. You think I can notice anything about her while you're in the room?"

Thena rolls her eyes in a huff, determined to stay strong and not get all charmed and fluttery over his cute little remarks. "You're terrible."

He winces, drawing up his shoulders, "a terrible boyfriend, maybe. But I'm telling you the truth, Naekkeo. I had no idea that woman was going to come onto me. Because I only have eyes for you."

Thena leans back against her pillows again, still crossing her arms and now pouting. He's so good at making himself at home in this heart of hers. She gives him a frosty side-eye. "You know, most women wouldn't care for your explanation. They would see you kissing another woman and that would be it."

Gil looks at her with hope in his eyes. He keeps his arm wrapped around her knees as he holds up a finger, "y'know, I don't consider it a kiss. She...put her mouth on mine."

Well, it does sound a little better when he puts it that way.

Thena takes in her loyal, devoted househusband, looking at her with puppydog eyes and a pouted lip. He knows she won't make him sleep on the couch. The only other time she'd tried it, she just brought him back to bed - because she couldn't sleep without him - anyway.

Gil senses her defrosting and leans forward, "I'm all done work for the day--what do you wanna do? Anything you want, baby. Are you hungry? D-Do you want me to take you to the spa?"

Thena cracks half a smile, if only at the sight of Gilgamesh - a major crime lord of Seoul - suggesting cute little things he can do to earn his forgiveness. She's going to make him work for it, but still.

"You name it," he smiles eagerly as she sits more upright against her pillows.

Thena maintains her right to withhold kisses from him, crossing her arms again and raising a brow. "I suppose I am hungry. I was about to ask if you wanted to order something when I walked in on you-"

"Okay, you got it!" he rushes, scrambling to stand off the bed and lean down to kiss her cheek and pull his jacket on all in the same second. "I'll get your absolute favourite, baby, you stay here--relax! Why don't you get into your comfy clothes? I'll bring food, and some wine, and we can spend all night here, okay?"

"Mm-hm," she smirks at him as he dashes out the door.

"I love you!"

Thena curls up under the blankets again. She will get changed into her comfy clothes, and she knows he's going to come back with a massive floral arrangement, and chocolates, and probably even more than that to go way overboard. She pulls out her phone, laying it on his pillow as she types.

I love you too. Hurry back xo

[chryzuree]

3, 6, and 9 for all four categories; well no 9 in the first but for the three others lmao

I. PRE-RELATIONSHIP

3. Who felt romantic feelings first?

questions that genuinely make me stop and stare at the ceiling for ten minutes. who did feel romantic feelings first?? chrysi started flirting w gil first, but that was mostly bc she was running away frm the pain of losing azure + gil was one of theeeeee least likely ppl to fall in love w her. and she was rlly only flirting w him because it was a fun pastime. plus, a huge part of their relationship is them both not realizing their feelings for each other… hmmmm. so is it who knew they had romantic feelings first, or who developed the unaware crush first??

…. i think i’m going to say gil, then. mostly bc chrysi’s still so wrapped up in her pain of losing azure that she can’t tell if she genuinely likes gil or if he’s jst a good distraction.

6. What was their "flirting stage" like?

answered here :))

II. GENERAL

3. What was their first kiss like?

answered here <3

6. How do their personalities complement each other? How do they clash?

OH BOY. MY FAV TOPIC EVERRRR. bc chrysi and gil are both so similar (protective. defensive of those they love. oblivious to their feelings for convenience reasons) and yet soooo difference (violently codependent versus violently independent, clueless versus astute, off-balance versus deliberately startling) and it’s jst such a fun dynamic.. they complement each other when it gets down to protecting others. they work p well in battle, for example, and for a few shining moments, they feel understood..

but they clash violently when it comes to communication styles. such as: neither of them fucking communicate to save their lives, and it’s accidental on gil’s part and 100% on purpose on chrysi’s part.

idk if i’m making sense, but they’re soooo. they’.re. they are. i meaaaan. yeag.

9. Who gets jealous easier?

GILLLL, gil gil gil!!!!!!!!!!! chrysi’s using him most of the time, so whenever she sees gil w someone (coughs, dahlia frm the light novel), she’s like “huh. good for him <3” whereas gil is sweating and crying and throwing up any time he sees chrysi w/ another man. no, he doesn’t have feelings for her. yes, he wants to shrivel up and die when she gives someone else attention that’s not HIM. please, for the love of GOD!!!! he is RIGHT HERE!!!!

III. LOVE

3. Who uses the cheesy pick-up lines, or does corny gestures?

okay, so depending on the circumstance,, both do. chrysi does it bc it makes gil blush + it’s funny and cute!! gil does it bc break told him it would be a good idea (source: just trust me). that still makes gil blush and chrysi thinks it’s funny and cute, so it works in both directions :)) ((break is doing his older brother duties of embarrassing chrysi’s future boyfriend in front of her, since he won’t be there to see them actually get together…… oh. made myself a little sad there. okay, i have to leave.))

6. What are their favorite things to do together?

answered here!!

9. What reminds them of each other?

whenever chrysi sees ravens/crows, cigarettes, coffee shops, tea shops, white gloves, a black hat, a long black coat, she thinks of gil! she also thinks of him when she sees a pretty lighter & a pretty tin box. mostly bc she thinks that gil would find a use for it (and if he doesn’t, alice will steal it and use it instead!!)

gil thinks of chrysi whenever he sees a red dress, a parasol (??? chrysi has used one exactly ONE TIME, i’m NOT sure what’s going on in gil’s head tbh), BOOKS, SO MANY BOOKS, sketchbooks too <33 also pretty ring sets.. oz nearly convinced gil to buy an engagement set for chrysi bc it was so pretty. he was BATTLING to be the devil on gil’s shoulder. shame it didn’t work (oz is kicking rocks and pouting down the street. plan foiled.)

IV. DOMESTIC LIFE

3. What is the wedding like? Who attends?

answered here :D

6. Do they have any pets?

answered hereee

9. How do they celebrate holidays?

they spend SO MUCH TIME in the kitchen. gil doesn’t like having chrysi help cook bc she’ll get distracted if he doesn’t have a task for her going at all times, but she’s good at keeping the kitchen clean even as he’s cooking and such. nd when they aren’t in the kitchen, chrysi’s crawling into their bay window w a blanket and a book and she’s begging gil to join her PLEASEEEE bc they never get a break from keeping the abyss company’s :(( come here pleaseeeeee. he obliges, but only bc he loves her sososo much.

[enteringdullsville]

I know Season Three isn’t even half over, but I’ve already drawn the Season Four cast! (Drawn mostly to scale, but the center three are all slightly scaled up. Brody’s roughly up to Marina’s eye in height)

Colton Mufflin, the Cobalt One.

Vanilla Protagonist, TM

Holder of the sacred braincell

Just rolls with everyone’s nonsense

Subtly dry sense of humor

Low key a huge nerd

Olive Zower, the Olive One.

Nightmare Pixie Dream Girl

A noodle who can snap you in half

Tough as nails, sharp as a tack

Blatantly in love with Colton

Constantly indulges in Brody’s mayhem

Brody Dinpud, the Blood Red One.

Probably a vampire

Smallest boy in Dullsville

Innocent and cute, yet bloodthirsty and vicious

Everyone is openly scared of him

Oblivious to everyone’s continuous horror

Landon Muthie, the Lavender One.

So hipster he actually self-identifies as one

Sarcasm is his first language

Brilliant, but lazy

Completely unfazed by the scarier characters.

Marina Milsh, the Aquamarine One.

Trolls people for fun

Gremlin child

Keeps video games in her hoodie at all times

Landon’s best banter buddy

Georgia Kobbles, the Peach One.

Farm girl from the country

Absolutely ripped

Normally nice, but has zero tolerance for fools

Incredibly blunt, brutally honest

Gil Von Nillion, the Gold One.

The youngest Von Nillion

Innocent and sweet

Emotionally intelligent, but dense

Doesn’t know what a bad person is

Vera Von Nillion, the Silver One.

The middle Von Nillion

Spoiled silly by her dad

Genuinely nice but haughty and snobbish

Bosses her brothers around; they don’t listen

Bronson Von Nillion, the Bronze One.

The oldest Von Nillion

The main caretaker; their dad works constantly

Mr. Heartthrob McPerfect

Secretly stressed constantly

Bobbie Lolsie, the Bubblegum Pink One.

Silly, spontaneous, doesn’t know when to stop

Always dresses like that

The lines move together and apart as she blinks

Hates seeing people sad

Forrest Macha, the Forest Green One.

Keeps birds in his hair sometimes

Completely oblivious to his surroundings

A male Disney princess

Gentle giant

Julienne Undaunt, the Cerulean One.

Hyper-competitive

Athletic overachiever

Hates losing but is always a good sport

Mom friend

Crimson Rhooba, the Crimson One.

Shy introvert; parents’ girl

Polite and kind, but not a pushover

Strong sense of justice; incredibly vindictive

Always. Fear. The quiet girl.

Monty Sauterdae, the Mint One.

High school hustler

Master of making get rich quick schemes

Very quick to anger

Good to those who earn his respect

Topher Hautchoc, the Taupe One.

Conspiracy theorist

That hair is a divining rod for the paranormal

Sleep deprived and melodramatic

Farsighted. It saves him a lot on binoculars

Mr. Peterson, the Pewter One.

Some random pigeon Gil picked up one day

Vera claims to hate him, but we know she’s lying

Constantly spacey, hyperfixated on breathing

The most stable person in Dullsville.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Imagine this: You are at a small party and you get bored with all the mindless chattering and gossip. You say you need some fresh air and head outside. Sighing, you place your wine glass down on a table and take off your heels. "Good evening.", a voice calls out from behind you. Your eyes meet mesmerizing scarlet. You know this man. But does he know you? "May I have this dance, my fellow outcast?" Smiling as you cringe at his words, you take his hand. (1/2)

Holy shit, Anon!

Before I start, I need to tell you that I am obsessed with this ask, and literally started mentally writing this the MINUTE I read through. Please pardon a little creative license; I couldn't resist. Hope you enjoy!

Edit 22 Oct. 2021- As a special request, there is another part to this fic, told from Gil’s perspective this time. Thank you for reading!

It isn't as hard to slip away from the festivities as it should be; everyone is already so deep into their drinks that they wouldn't really notice even if you did made an effort to announce your departure.

You take the miracle at face value however, weaving through various groups and couples to the kitchen, topping up your single glass of wine and stealing a few pieces of food.

For a few minutes, all is quiet in your little haven, only the soft lighting from the stove and a jack-o-lantern keeping you company. You finish off a few bites, and just as you're about to grab some more food, a couple stumbles through the doorway, oblivious to everyone and everything.

Deciding you would rather leave than interrupt them, you slip out the back door, closing it softly behind you.

Sunset is painting the sky in vibrant lilac and rose, birdsong still carrying across the yard. The day is still fairly warm, and you slip your shoes off with a sigh, wiggling your toes through the grass as you make your way to a white bistro set.

There are two empty chairs, and you happily take the nearest one, setting your glass on the table, happy to melt into the iron.There is nothing except the beautiful sky and a newfound inner peace. Blessed silence after all the hullabaloo and gossipmongering from the past hour.

"G'evenin'."

Dammit.

You hadn't noticed anyone else slipping outside, or hanging out in the yard. And now you'll have to make small talk again and feign interest in whatever pointless topics come up. Terrific.

Not bothering to even glance at your companion, who is already making himself comfortable in the other chair, you offer a frustrated sigh. "Hi."

"Oof. Little bitterness there."

Whoever he is, he sounds concerned, if not bemused.

Despite your irritation at having your privacy interrupted, you don your manners once more, turning to him with a smile you don't really feel. "Long night, sorry."

He hums. "That I get. More like a long week I think."

The admission and his tone have you breathing out the ghost of a laugh. "You got me there."

He's surprisingly quiet for a few minutes, seemingly just as content as you are to watch the skyscape. You find you're not nearly as uncomfortable with the company as you would have expected.

Subtly, you try to figure out exactly who he is, though the design of his mask makes it absolutely impossible. Really, the only thing you can make out are his eyes, a vibrant red you're sure are contacts.

You can't help but ogle his costume; he's dressed as if he stepped right out of a portrait, and if you didn't know better you would swear that was a genuine sapphire resting against his chest. And then there's his mask-

Scarlet eyes flicker your way, his lips turning up in a grin when he realizes you've been staring. "See something you like?"

You're far too embarrassed, yet somehow- "Jury's still out."

The grin grows even bigger, showing off the fangs that complete his ensemble. 

With how pale he is, you mentally decide, it's the perfect outfit for him.

You had thrown yours together on a whim, using a thrifted evening dress, hand-me-down jewelry, and a fake tiara you had worn a few times during your childhood. Ironically, the only part of your ensemble that was expensive is the mask itself, a custom piece that cost more than the rest of your outfit put together.

Now, sitting next to someone who looks like he stepped out of the 1800s, obnoxiously blue jacket and all, you feel a little underdressed, the feeling passing by as you realize he's discarded his own shoes and socks sometime ago.

There's something familiar about him, his slight slouch teasing at a memory from long ago. 

You would think, considering how few people are actually here, you would recognize him, would be able to figure out who he is.

But his eyes are strangers to you, his voice is... unique.

The not-knowing is more aggitating than his company, enough that it is the sole reason for your next words to him.

"As lovely as this has been, do you mind?"

There's no real expression on his face as he turns to you. "Nope. Do you?"

That was a challenge. You can see it in his eyes, heard the playful hitch in his voice. God help you, he's annoying. 

"Yes, actually." Deciding to press further, because why-the-hell not, you offer your own challenge. "You're interrupting my alone time."

"Pardon the intrusion, milady, but I'm pretty sure this is neutral territory."

"I was here first," you retort, a bit childishly.

He snorts, folding his arms across his chest, falling further into his chair, posture absolutely intended to mock you. "Were you, though?"

Dammit, he had you.

You shoot him a scathing look, one that was frankly just a little on the playful side, before folding your own arms and pretending to scowl at the setting sun.

A few more minutes pass, before you hear his voice again. "So..." he says, dragging out the sound in a pointed attempt at getting you to talk to him.

You ignore him, or you attempt to at least. It's kind of hard to do that when he's standing now, just inside your peripheral, head turned towards the heavens.

Finally realizing that you have no plans of responding, he takes another step, now more-or-less directly in your line of sight. "Why're you alone out here? Party's inside, ya know."

You level an unamused stare at his pointed question, a hint of bemusement coating your reply. "I could ask you the same thing."

He smirks, some quick, passing thing, before he hides it behind a small sip of his beer. "Touché."

Somehow, that brief exchange has revitalized you, and you take another drink from your wine, watching some birds make their final rounds for the evening.

The sky is shifting, darkening with each passing moment. And inside, the party is getting louder, laughter carrying out to you from the still partially open door.

He glances back towards the house, an odd expression on his face. You follow his gaze, almost instinctively, turning back to him curiously when you can't determine the cause of his- Discomfort? Irritation?

"You ever just want to run away?"

His question takes you by surprise, and you feel your heart constrict when his focus once more turns to you, achingly familiar eyes seemingly- haunted.

Whatever annoyance you had held previously is gone, replaced with something you don’t really recognize.

Trying to ignore it, you nearly default to the normal lie that comes with small talk, especially with strangers, but there's something so familiar about him-

You give yourself a minute to actually weigh his question, tasting different answers on your tongue. It teases you, the temporary daydream of just hitting the road, abandoning everything and everyone you know to start a new life elsewhere.

After a few moments- really, it could have been an Infinity or merely seconds- you have your answer.

"I'd be lying if the thought didn't appeal to me sometimes."

He hums, sounding somewhat detached, turning once more to study the treeline. There's a heaviness around him now, an aura that almost hurts to see.

"Something tells me it's been on your mind lately?"

He studies you for some time, and maybe it's the lighting or just the contacts, but you could swear his eyes are almost glowing. Finally he offers a small shrug, all that negativity seeming to disappear into thin air. 

"Eh. Comes and goes. Let's just say my cousin's really pissing me off."

You huff a laugh at the statement, thinking of your own loved ones inside, and how tipsy they were already when you first slipped outside. "Family, am I right?"

He hisses slightly, apparently his own form of laughter, that smile once more teasing the left corner of his mouth.

Silence reclaims the pair of you for a few more moments, and as awkward as it could have been- He's good company. After spending so long having to mindlessly chatter about the weather and ambitions, it was nice to simply breathe.

Your companion- it’s still bothering you that you don’t know his name- seems as at ease as you are, content to lean against the table as if he owns the place.

The sunlight is almost completely gone now, the waxing moon taunting you from behind a few scattered clouds painted in amethyst. The stars are not so shy, several distinct constellations already twinkling above you.

With the coming night, there's a chill creeping closer, a crispness to the air that has you sighing in contentment.

He seems to mistake the sound, eyes flashing with concern as he turns back to you. "Cold?"

Your denial is barely even formed before his jacket is over your shoulders, his lingering warmth already starting to seep into your bones.Your mouth opens in a small protest- Seriously, how dare he just assume!- but seeing how instinctively he had done it, how it almost seemed his second-nature-

Rather than offer up any protests, you sigh out a small thank you, and soon slide your arms into the sleeves, marveling at how warm the damn thing is despite how thin it is.

There is another round of laughter inside, and someone decides to raise the volume of the speakers.

Some orchestral piece is playing, a haunting melody that you felt befit a Gothic novel, a spellbinding spectrum of emotions carrying past the still opened door.

You see your companion shift, straightening his posture as he turns his attention back to you. Curious, brow raising slightly, you glance over at him, wondering at his next move.

Shockingly, he's bowing, a right, proper bow, before standing upright once more, a soft smile just noticeable. "May I have this dance, my fellow outcast?"

Oh God-

"You are ridiculous," you're laughing out, even as you take his offered hand.

He's grinning again, a playful look that fits him far better than some of the ones he's had on before. "It's all part of my charm!"

You're rolling your eyes, still smiling despite yourself.

It's only when he's guiding your hands to a ballroom position that you feel the first flickers of panic. You had been expecting maybe some swaying or just kind of shuffling, not-

"Relax, would ya?"

You meet his eyes, immediately reassured by the soft expression there, eased from that inexplicable familiarity. He isn't going to pressure you, and somehow you know he will always have your back.

"Just follow my lead; I've got ya."

You believe him. 

Despite not even knowing his name, what a majority of his face looks like, or even what accent that is- 

You believe him, and you decide to trust him.

Letting go is a strange sensation, one you're not entirely sure you dislike. He seems to know you're a novice, goes at a tempo that he can easily guide you through. Despite never having danced like this before, a few moments in you feel as if a part of you has been reawakened, the next steps coming to you before he begins to move into them.

He seems almost proud of your progress, your dance becoming more a partnership with each passing moment.

The song had shifted a long while ago- now some creepy lofi piece with samplings from a children's cartoon- yet your pace remained the same.

"So..." He puts out into the air, a pensive prompt that has you smiling.

"So," you repeat curiously.

There's another weird expression, fading away before you can analyze it. 

"What's your name?"

Maybe it's the thrill of anonymity, or maybe you're too caught up in the giddiness of your newly discovered talent. Instead of giving him a straight answer, you playfully offer: "Someone smarter than Cinderella's Prince Charming." 

Pensive, you offer an extra thought. "I know the power of a name; who knows what you'd do with it."

The comment seems to amuse him, that achingly familiar smile returning as he guides you into a dip. He hovers there for a moment, slightly pensive. "You know, Prince Charming is a lot smarter than you give him credit for." 

He's guiding you back up, his eyes glowing once you're upright again. "He could do more with his beloved's name than she could even begin to imagine."

That last line, a whisper meant just for the two of you, is digging at you, tugging at some memory buried deep, deep in your subconscious. 

There's something there, a name starting to shape on your lips-

But then he's doing that half-shrug again, dismissing the exchange entirely. "No matter. Keep your secrets, princess."

The last word was spoken with such fondness that your heart actually skipped a beat.

He barely gives you a moment to process, pulling you into a different routine that soon has the rest of the world fading away again. You let yourself forget everything else for a while; you exist only in this moment, dancing on the grass with a stranger.

Except, he's not a stranger, is he?

God help you, you know this is the first time you've met him, know that you've never interacted with this man before in your life, but you know him.

With every minute you spend with him, you imagine all kinds of moments with him- 

Laughter as he wipes chocolate cake off his cheek from an impromptu food fight, annoyance at his cousin's lecturing, the soft smile of pride as he listens to his brother's speech.

And dammit, he never even mentioned having a brother.

But the daydreams keep coming.

Holding his hand in some cobblestoned square, racing through the woods, collapsing into a freshly constructed snow fort, lazing in bed running your fingers through his hair while he reads aloud-

They're so vivid that you're starting to wonder if you lived an entire life with him already.

And God, doesn't that make you sound so ridiculous. 

You've only just met this guy, literally know maybe five things about him, and yet you're already imagining a future with him.

Life isn't some fairietale, and despite the tiara you're wearing for the night, you are not a princess. Shit like this isn't real.

But the way he's looking at you, watching you with such vulnerability and longing-

He's pulling you closer, your eyes drifting shut reflexively.

You feel his breath teasing your neck, his hand pulling you closer to him.

You-

A familiar voice is calling your name.

You barely hear it over the sound of your racing heart beat, over his. Your eyes flash open in irritation, though not at him. Never at him.

"It's not midnight yet."

Given the circumstances, the weight of his hand on your back, how tantalizingly close he is, and the inexplicable gravity you've long since stopped denying, his growl actually elicits a laugh, pained as it is.

"Sadly even the most rebellious of us princesses still have curfews."

He groans in frustration, arms wrapping around you in a hug, his forehead dropping against your own. "Don't. I-" His eyes are meeting yours again, darkened by expanded irises and still nearly sparkling for how vibrant the red is. 

"Run away with me."

It's a whisper, a plea. It echoes through your entire heart and soul, that aching a crescendo of longing and adoration.You would give anything to stay with him, would follow him in a heartbeat.

But you have a family, a job, responsibilities. You can't abandon them, even at the risk of never seeing him again.

"I'm sorry," you force out, the agony resounding from every last inch of your soul. 

You never meant the words as much as you mean them now, your own heart breaking in your decision.

You step away from him, shedding his jacket and turning away.You know if you look at him, if you see his face, if you glance at his eyes once more time-

You manage five steps before he's choking out your name. You close your eyes at the pain in his voice, but it's not enough.

He's used your name, and the sound of it from his lips, the weight of it on your spirit, it's too much for you to resist.

You're turning again, once again struck by how devastatingly handsome he is right now, how much sway he already has over you. 

Every one of his approaching steps, each more confident than the last, is increasing the tempo of your heartbeat, filling you to the brim with anticipation.

It's ridiculous, impossible.

Yet you can't lie to yourself. Not about this.

"Please."

He's barely an arm's distance away from you now, hair haloed and features shadowed from the nearby sconces. And those damned eyes-

"N-"

He's murmuring your name again, slowly, hypnotically, shaping it as if he's savoring the flavor, enjoying how it feels. 

You really want to ignore the effect it has on you, but he's whispering it again, not giving you a moment's mercy. 

"Come with me."

You're powerless to resist.

"Yes." 

[drawnfromthedead]

Snapemas 2020 day 13 & 14 Snowed in and Family: Snockhart Edition

Severus often avoided talking about his past with others. It, to him, was old news and shouldn't have any bearing on the present (though he did make an exception for holding grudges against people who have caused him deliberate harm in the past). It took quite a lot of persuading for Gilderoy to get Sev's past out of the dour man.

However, after Severus had confessed the long buried secrets of his past to Gilderoy, Severus realized just how little he knew about Gilderoy's past. Gilderoy had been practicing with his memory skills everyday since he come back from the hospital, and had even read some of his old works and was able to tell where he had spilt from reality and wrote fiction instead, so Severus had hopped Gilderoy would come to him to talk about his past sometime soon just like he had with Gil.

But it never happened, and he remained mostly ignorant to Gil's past.

He knew what didn't happen, like how Gilderoy had never faced off against a werewolf or how Gilderoy didn't actually like wisky at all, though he claimed he did because it was a manly drink. But these things where things Gilderoy wasn't, and barely made up any if who Gilderoy was as a person. So when Gil had convinced Severus to stay the night at his place instead of in the castle ("Just one night I promise! Your going to love it!") Sev thought it would be the perfect opportunity to try and learn more about the man he was seeing.

The whole point of dating was to get to know someone better romantically and personally, yes?

It turned out to be a very difficult subject to bring up, both because Severus couldn't quite figure out how he was supposed to word it and because Gilderoy had planned all kinds of things for them to enjoy together. Severus had tried to bring it up during dinner but Gilderoy had already gone off in a different direction of conversation before he could get his words straight, and then Sev got sidetracked by the way the conversation was going and eventually forgot himself in Gil's words.

He remembered what he was going to ask when Gilderoy had suggested decorating the house for Christmas since "It would be so much fun to do with you, Sev!" However their was a problem with the Christmas lights Gil had gotten and after Severus had fixed them he got distracted (again) by Gilderoy, he had gotten himself tangled up in the garland from trying to hang them up without Sev for support.

Later that night he tried to want to bring it up again but they had had such a wonderful night, and Sev wasn't even sure about how to word sucha delicate question, plus Gilderoy was getting ready in his room and he definitely didn't want to put that on hold. So he decided to talk to Gil in the morning, when he had figured out how to word his question.

-------------------------------------------0

Unfortunately for Severus' plans, there had been a snow storm that night. The house was covered with no way out but the fireplace, and Gil was all out of floo powder and they couldn't just climb up the chimney it was too small an opening. Severus tried to apparate out at first, but apparently Gil had to take precautions against a crazed fan a few years back and apparating was impossible inside the house.

They decided to start the fire and get breakfast, it's not like the house was a prison, and at any rate they weren't getting out of the house anytime soon and definitely not while freezing and hungry.

So, other plans long ruined, wrapped in an oversized blanket with Gil leaning on his side Severus decided to ask his question.

"Its kinda stupid really," Gilderoy started "I'm not trying to deliberately hid anything, if you were thinking that."

"Gilderoy."

"OK! But only a little bit, I just- Well I always though my life was bad before and hearing about yours just made me feel like I was trying to make things about me again, ya know? And I though you wouldn't want to hear me praddle on about things I hardly remember, and the things I do remember don't really make for an interesting story."

"It's you, Gil, I'd listen to you talk about hoe paint would dry on a beige wall for hours."

"So we're starting of with the fresh coat of primer-"

"Don't you dare," Severus breathed out a quiet laugh "Your past is a part of you and I already care about you so its not like I'm not going to stop because your past isn't a best selling novel."

"It would be a very boring novel...My dad was never mean or outwardly aggressive, but it wasn't a happy man, especially after he married my mom. She was his second wife, and she was supposed to give a exceptional magical child, like what her family had promised him when he agreed to marry her. I was exceptionally average at my best."

"Gil-"

"No. I know it, my dad never had to say it, I always just knew. I have two older sisters, from my dad's previous marriage, and they aren't exactly talented with magic but they could kick my ass in a duel if it came down to it. I started with small scams to prove them wrong, when I had gotten out of Hogwarts, made enough money from it to look like I was a successful man and it made them all proud of me.

"It hurt. I was lying to them, not even all that well, but they didn't care because I looked successful. And in turn it made them look successful. So I escalated and I started writing about some of the stuff I had done under a pen name, I think I was trying to prove something to people I had conned or something, and while they brought in a bit of money it wasn't all that much and no one knew it was me.

"But then I had met this guy in a pub, drunk off his head, loudly boasting about all the things he'd seen and done as an obliviator. Thing was we were in a muggle pub, I watched him get arrested that night and watched everyone there get obliviated. I wrote down one of the stories he had told that night, thinking I could get a quick bit of money off of it. But the story took off and I made nearly 1,000 G on it. It a lot compared to later sales but I felt rich as he'll at the time.

"I thought I had figured out away to make a lot of money, more than I ever had before and with a hell of a lot less effort, not just look successful but easily be successful. So I payed a guy to let me use a cheaper nockoff of a pensive and learned the obliviate spell from my own memories. I started going around collecting stories then obliviating the people what had actually done them and then finally I wrote them down as if I was the one who had done them. The books were wildly successful, so since I had started on the life of fame I decided to write more of 'me' into the stories and people just-lapped it up.

"I was so caught up in my own fame I didn't even notice that my dad had a funeral," Gilderoy's eyes where wet, like he was trying to stop himself from crying " I had done this whole thing-This whole thing- to see him genuinely proud of something I had put actual work into and I didn't even notice he died. What kind of," he broke off it to a harsh sob.

"Gil, you were traveling all over the world collecting these stories for him, its not like they sent you letters telling you he was gone and you just decided not to care." Severus pulled Gilderoy's body against his own and held him as he continued to cry "I think we should take a break from talking about this, I don't think I've ever seen you this worked up.

"Sev I don't-"

"Shh, it's fine. If you feel like theirs more to tell me later we'll talk about it later but right now you look like your already past what you can handle," Gilderoy pulled at a loose corner of a blanket and started dab at his eyes "we can talk more later, I trust you."

"I love you," Severus muttered, barely audible, from where he had just pressed his face into Gilderoy's hair.

"I-" Gilderoy felt like he couldn't breath "I love you too."

-------------------------------------------0

@deepperplexity asked to be tagged ^-^

Sorry this is so late, I wanted to do these in order day by day but sometimes my mind is being weird and won't let me do stuff. However I managed to just spew this one out today so maybe I could do today's prompt as well? Who knows, certainly not me I've decided.

[notgonnarememberthis]

today (of all days) - pt. 1

Hello! I am back! Dropped off writing for a bit due to hiatus and my utter inability to write things in order but I have returned with a brand new 5+1 idea. Hope y’all enjoy it!!

5 times Gil helped Jessica + 1 time he was too late

Jessica wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing here, not really. With a bottle of bourbon in one hand and two suite tickets to the Mets game in the other she was certain it was a thank you. For helping her with the interrogations, for being there for Malcolm the past few months. Everything felt like a tornado right now, ripping her life apart but Gil-

Gil felt like something to hold onto.

However, standing here, in front of the door feels a lot more like moving on than she expected. Having someone to hold onto meant having something to lose. She’d already lost everything. She couldn’t do it again. Not this time.

She’s almost completely convinced herself to leave the gift on his doorstep and call once she was out of earshot when the door swings open. Gil doesn’t even look shocked to see her there, only raising an eyebrow at her dumbfounded look.

“How long were you planning on standing outside my door?” The smirk on his face tells her he’s joking.

“How-”

“I heard your heels. Nobody that lives on this floor would risk their neck walking in those.” He steps aside pulling the door open a little wider for her. “Come on in.” She does, taking a moment to look around. She’d seen his place for only passing moments. Mostly when she needed someone to watch Malcolm and Ainsley when she had a court hearing. The process of Martin’s trial was exhausting enough without Malcolm having a panic attack at the thought of being left alone with even just Luisa, who he’d known his whole life.

Though, he’d thought he’d known Martin his entire life too.

“Would you like a drink?” Gil’s voice pulls her out of the spiral she’d slipped into. He looks concerned, not many people do now-a-days.

“No, actually. I brought these for you.” She lifts the gifts to hand over to him. “It’s a thank you. For everything you’ve done for the past few months. Without you I-” She almost laughs. Truthfully, without him she would be nowhere. Likely lost in some pit of alcohol and pills, praying that neither of her kids are the ones that find their mother like that. After her family disgraced her with tuttering remarks that they always knew Martin Whitly was trouble, she felt abandoned. Cast aside with two children, one traumatized beyond any reason for a 12 year old and the other so painfully oblivious that even when she tried to go on as normal it unintentionally ripped Jessica’s heart out. Suddenly a single mother with no family.

“You didn’t need to do this.” Gil smiles, taking the tickets and bottle from her hands.

“I wanted to.”

“Well, I can’t wait to teach Malcolm the correct team to be rooting for.” Her jaw drops again. That wasn’t who the other ticket was meant for. He was supposed to bring a friend, or family, or a girlfriend. Not Malcolm. “What? You didn’t think I’d bring Shannon, did you?”

She tilts her head disapprovingly. “You don’t.”

“Jess.” He sighs placing both down and taking her by the shoulders. It’d become a common practice. A stance he adopted when he could see everything becoming too much all at once. Especially on the days of the trial where she was forced to testify against the man she loved. Or, once loved. “Malcolm is a good kid. I like having him around. Right now, he needs to feel normal and If I can give him a day where I teach him everything I know about baseball? If it distracts him from everything else for just one day, that makes me happy.”

“You’re a good man.” She smiles, almost lamenting how she wishes for a moment that Gil was Malcolm’s father. He was the antithesis of her, grounded and calm. A hero for both the city but for her son too.

“Should I get two glasses?” She looks to the door, her lips searching for an excuse to leave that truthfully doesn’t exist. Her schedule completely cleared of everything shortly after Martin’s arrest other than press hounding her every other day. Publishists demands for the story of Mrs. Whitly flooded her voicemail. Both Malcolm and Ainsley at school for another 5 hours meant she would be all alone in a home that whispered with the voices of dead women she never even met before.

“Sure.” She decides. He moves to the cabinet retrieving two glasses that look more expensive than anything she’d really expect him to own.

“Family heirloom.” He explains, having caught her expression of surprise. “My mother gave them to me as a good luck gift after I graduated from the academy.”

“Well I could use all the luck I could get.” She chuckles dryly.

“That and I don’t think glasses I got on sale at Macy’s are quite fitting for what you brought.” That does actually get a genuine laugh from her. It feels good to laugh. Truthfully she doesn’t remember the last time she had a real one, not laced with a fake polite tone or sarcasm. He pours them both a glass and they move into the living room.

His decor is much simpler than her home. The walls hold a lot more frames, family and friends smile back at her and she stops in her tracks when she notices one of Malcolm. He’s smiling at the camera with a wide toothed grin that brings tears to her eyes. She remembers Gil had asked her if it was ok that he had that photo in his apartment. A small moment from a diner she heard Malcolm talk about a lot, Mel’s if she remembers or something along those lines. Seeing the photo here, amongst other family of Gil’s, hit something different. A chord struck that she wasn’t the only one looking out for him now.

“Jess,” Gil calls to her, his voice a little panicked. She looks over and she wonders just how long he’d been trying to get her attention.

“Sorry. I was thinking.”

“How are you doing?” The question catches her off guard. So many people have asked her that in the past month alone. A call from her mother, from Birdie, her attorney, Alphonso, the therapist that Luisa recommended to her.

“I’m fine.” She tries.

“Jessica.” The tone is a don’t bullshit me one. He had a knack for knowing when she was lying.

“I can’t think about it. Not right now. It’s all-” Her voice catches in her throat and she chases the lump away with a drink. “Right now everything is too close. If I stop, it will all hit at once. I can’t let myself be swept up by Martin. Not when Malcolm and Ainsley need me.”

“But who’s there for you?” She stops again, staring off for a moment. Truly, the only person that she thought was ever there for her is getting a cushy space in a psychiatric hospital when he should be rotting in prison. When she can’t find an answer Gil speaks up again, “Well, I’ll tell you what. If you ever need anything my door is open.”

“I can’t do that to you. Not when you do so much for this family already.”

“Well, how about this. You bring the bourbon and we can talk about anything you need to talk about over a good drink that probably costs more than my paycheck.” She laughs, again it feels like it loosens some of the tension in her chest. A part of her screams at her, knowing that she’s getting to close again but yet his eyes are so gentle. With a smile that feels so soft that it should only be shared with the purest of heart. She doesn’t deserve to be smiled like that, and yet.

“I’d like that.”

[onedayiwillflyfree]

When the Sun Begins to Fall Chapter 8: Royal Gardner

Chapter 8: Royal Gardner

(Chapter nine is the second half of this chapter!)

“I can’t believe you still have this!” Cole exclaimed as he held up a sketch that he had penned years ago. Gilbert smiled smally to himself, he had always loved the portrait of Anne. Her long fire braids gently over her shoulders and not a freckle was out of place. He had even managed to capture the sparkle in her eyes that always accompanied her smile. If he had that much talent as a teenager, it was no wonder his sculptures and paintings were taking the world by storm.

“Of course I kept it,” Anne smiled weakly. Despite Roys promise not to wake her, the moment she heard her friends step through the threshold of her room, her eyes shot open and her spirits lifted immediately. “You made me look beautiful when I was so homely.” Liar Gilbert thought. Anne had never looked homely a day in her life, not even now when she had been so terribly ill and hadn’t bathed in days. Diana held another forkful of eggs to Anne’s lips, who grimaced and pushed it away. She looked up pleadingly to Gilbert. “No more please.” 

Diana looked to Gilbert for approval. He gave a curt nod as he stepped forward to retrieve the plate when Roy stepped in front of him. 

“Allow me, Di,” he said as he grabbed the plate. Gilbert had known this man for all of five minutes but whenever he heard the sound of Roy’s accented voice, he instantly felt nauseous. And what was his problem with nicknames? 

“Thank you Roy, that’s very kind of you.” Diana’s voice was sweet, genuinely thankful. This too infuriated Gilbert, because ever since her arrival, Diana had spoken to him with such malice despite everything he had been doing for Anne. Roy walked over to Anne’s armoire and placed the plate upon it, shooting him a wink only he could see. Gilbert clenched his jaw, grinding the back of his teeth together to fight off a scowl.

Cole cocked his head to the side, still entranced with his old sketch, before he pushed it away from him as if the sight of it disgusted him. “Yeah...that’s not going to do.” He reached into his bag, producing a sketchbook covered with black dust. It wasn’t until he pulled out his drawing utensil that Gilbert realized it must be charcoal. “Anne, can you sit up a tad more for me?”

Her eyes rolled to the side, peering at him through half closed lids. “Really?” 

Cole nodded, flipping to a bare page. “Yes! The muses are speaking to me and they're telling me I need to update this sketch. Diana, help her please.”Anne groaned as Diana giggled and pulled her friend forward, arranging a bundle of pillows behind her so she could sit up without much effort. “Perfect! Royal, can you open the curtain just a smidge more? There is a shadow.”

As Roy slid the curtain open, Anne covered her face. “Honestly Cole, I look…” she coughed, causing hair to fly into her eyes. “I look positively frightful.”

Gilbert wanted to step forward, brush her hair from her eyes and tell her that it was impossible for her to look anything other than stunning. That she was sunshine personified. He almost took a step, not caring any longer who would hear. But Roy was quicker crossing the room, sitting down at the end of her bed and brushed a curl of fire behind her ear. Anne’s eyes rose to his, appearing shocked by his touch.

“My dearest, you and I both know you’re lovelier than autumn leaves, than the first blooms of spring, and the freshly fallen snow.” His hand gingerly lingered on his fiancée’s cheek, which were slowly shifting from a pale peonie to a deep scarlet. Anne’s eyes shot to Gilbert, who refused to meet her gaze for fear his heart would shatter. He still felt the burn from her gaze when he cleared his throat to remind the couple of the no touching rule.

Roy pulled his hand away slowly, eyes not leaving Anne. “Sorry, can’t help myself sometimes. My bride is just simply irresistible,” Roy glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. “Wouldn’t you agree, Gil?” Diana’s mouth sat agape as she looked in between the two men as Anne bit her lip, gaze not leaving Gilbert. Cole, who had become completely focused on his sketch, seemed oblivious to the tensions that were slowly building.

Gilbert smiled tightly, a piece of his scabbed cheek resting between his molars. Roy licked his lips, holding Gilbert’s glare for a moment when he let out a soft chuckle as he rose from the bed. “With your own bride to be, of course.” He took confident strides towards the aspiring doctor in the corner. “From what I’ve been informed, she is rival to that love goddess... what was her name again, dear?”

Anne looked down at her hands, her embarrassment becoming more and more apparent. “Aphrodite.”

Roy snapped his fingers as he closed the space between them further. “That’s it. Aphrodite. Tell me Gil,” He stood mere inches from Gilbert and smirked once more. “Is she truly rival to Aphrodite?” 

Gilbert peered over Roy’s shoulder, eyes scanning for Anne. Her own eyes were still glued to her intertwined hands, out of embarrassment or exhaustion he didn’t know. He swallowed and spoke slowly. “Winnie is...”

Cole stopped scratching the charcoal against the page. “Anne, you can lay back now, but still try to keep your face towards me.” Anne looked relieved as she slid down deeper into her pillows, looking as if she could drift off at any moment.

Gilbert decided that she wasn’t paying the men any mind, he turned his attention back to Roy, who was grinning smugly.  “Winnie is rather lovely.”

As the words left his mouth, he turned his gaze to Anne, curious to see if she was going to react at all. To see she was feeling any of the same jealousy he felt when Roy had taken her face in his hands. Despite her eyes fluttering shut, she still found his eyes and he could see it. The storm that was so often paired with her anger was brewing within her.

Their stares were broken when Roy shifted just enough to block them from seeing one another, an aura of protectiveness radiating off of him as he balled his fists. Gilbert wanted to chuckle, was Roy actually jealous? Was he trying to start a fight with him? Roy had a good few inches on him, sure, but from what Gilbert could tell, that was about all he had going for him. His hands looked soft, like a man who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was lanky, well kept, and in all honesty, appeared to be far too posh to have ever actually punched someone before. Gilbert’s anger was making its return, something that was becoming more and more frequent over the last few days.

“Roy!” Diana broke the silence. Roy glanced over his shoulder as Diana pressed her hand against Anne’s forehead. “Could you bring me that pitcher? I imagine Anne would like to wash her face, it has been a few days..”

Roy swiped a finger across his lip and clapped Gilbert’s shoulder with a smile. “Well, cannot wait to meet that girl of yours!” With that, he turned and reached for the water pitcher and basin resting on top of Anne’s armoire. He picked up the pitcher, looking into it sadly.  “Looks like we need some more. I’ll...”

“I’ll get it.” Gilbert stepped forward, ripping the jug from Roy before exiting from the room. He needed to get out of the room, he didn’t want to lose his temper. Not in front of Anne, especially with her feeling so sick. Once he crossed the threshold, he heard a loud smack followed by an annoyed grunt.

“What was that for Diana?” he heard Cole ask cluelessly. Gilbert rolled his eyes and took a deep breath before making his way down the hall. 

His mind wandered to what had just happened a few moments prior. Was Roy truly trying to pick a fight? What was that guy's problem with him?And why did he feel the need to protect Anne against Gilbert of all people? Gilbert hadn’t done anything to him, he had only just met him less than an hour ago. And as far as he knew, he had never done anything to hurt Anne, not intentionally anyway. If anything, Gilbert should hate him, for Roy held the one thing he had always desired. No, no, Gilbert, that is on you. You gave up that fight. He gave up the right to Anne’s affection the moment he slid a ring onto Winifred’s finger.

“Just be happy for them,” he whispered to himself as he descended down the stairs. 

In the kitchen, he spotted Mrs Lynde sitting by the fire, still continuing on the same lavender scarf she was working on yesterday morning. He was unsure why she was still working on it, the scarf was surely longer than his entire body at this point, but he had no intention of asking her why she wasn’t stopping. Especially not after he saw Marilla on her knees with a bucket of water and a scrub brush, cleaning every inch she could reach and grumbling with each stroke. 

“What’s happening? They aren’t bothering her too much are they? No, that’s silly, they’re her friends. Does she need more food? Drink? Tea. I should make tea.” She threw the brush into the bucket as she stood, droplets landing on Rachel and her masterpiece. 

“Heavens sake, Marilla!” Rachel scolded, wiping the moisture from her face. Marilla ignored her, grabbing the kettle to fill from the spout and let out a small sob. Rachel sighed, looking sadly at her friend as she threw her masterpiece into her yarn bag and swiftly made her way to her friend and rested a gentle hand upon Marilla’s shoulder. “Marilla, you need to rest. I’ll make the tea.” Marilla opened her mouth to argue but was waved off as Rachel filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. “She is with her friends, they will fetch you if need be. Besides, Gilbert is up there. And we all know how that boy is when Anne is involved.”

He shifted awkwardly on the final step, it was strange to hear someone talk about him as if he wasn’t present. It also caused him to realize his presence could raise tensions and cause unneeded worry. He eyed the back door. Perhaps I can sneak out without alerting either of them, get water from the outside spicket. Yeah, that could work...

“Hey Doc! What’s taking you so long?” Roy shouted from the top of the steps, compromising his location. Both women spun, Marilla’s face falling. 

“What’s wrong? Does she need me?” Marilla sputtered out, looking seconds away from bolting up the stairs. 

Gilbert shook his head frantically. “No, no she’s...”

“No need to worry Miss Cuthbert.” Roy bounced down the steps. Gilbert resisted the urge to scowl as Roy bumped his shoulder hard when he joined him on the platform.“Anne just wanted to wash up a bit is all, so Gil here was coming to fill up the pitcher for her. Weren’t you, Gil?”

Call me Gil one more time… Gilbert smiled tightly, fighting every urge within him to not push Roy off the steps.

Marilla locked eyes with Gilbert. “So, she is alright?” 

“Yes,” Roy and Gilbert responded in unison before they each shot a disgusted glare towards the other. 

Roy cleared his throat, snatching the pitcher from Gilbert’s grasp and drifted towards the older women. What is with this prick? “When I left them to come see what the hold up was on the water,” Another glare over his shoulder. “The three of them were laughing over something Diana had said. I assure you Miss Cuthbert, Anne is well.” Roy gave a reassuring smile. 

Marilla nodded, finding some comfort in the young man's words. Her eyes drifted to Roy’s hands. “Give that to me, I’ll fill it for you so you can be on your way.” 

“Thank you Miss Cuthbert, you’re too kind.” The pitcher exchanged hands, Marilla stepping to the sink to fill it. Gilbert was surprised at how genuine the man’s voice was and that he had managed to calm Marilla so quickly. Roy flashed another bright smile as the pitcher made his way back to him. “Thank you.” Marilla gave a curt nod before he continued. “Also, I would like to apologize for our intrusion, I know Anne needs her rest.”

She smiled softly. “Think nothing of it Roy. Anne needs her rest, yes, but knowing her, she also needs you all here. We all know if she were alone with only me for company, she would be incredibly bored.” Marilla chuckled before glancing over to Gilbert. “It is so wonderful to hear these halls filled with laughter once more.” Gilbert smiled, fond memories flashing through his mind.

Roy looked between the pair. “Well, when Anne is feeling better, I would love to hear some of those stories. And later on, it will be wonderful to be apart of new memories.” He said the words in response to Marilla but his focus had fallen on Gilbert, their eyes locking and anger brewing.

Marilla smiled nervously, as if she could sense the rising tensions. “Yes. Of course.” 

The kettle whistled from the stove and Rachel clapped her hands together. “Finally!” She went grabbed the kettle, oblivious to all the going ons in the room as she poured the water into a teapot. Roy and Gilbert continued their stares, tensions building higher and higher with each passing moment. “Boys, would you like some tea?”

“No thank you, Mrs Lynde,” Roy said smoothly, not breaking his gaze. “Gil and I should be getting back up to my girl anyway.” Marilla continued looking between the pair as Gilbert balled his hands.

“Come along, Marilla,” Mrs Lynde said, corralling her friend from the room. “We have many things to catch up on.” Marilla opened her mouth to speak but Rachel continued on, giddy to share the latest gossip. “You will not believe what I heard about the eldest Andrews girl! She’s trying to buy a farm up in Nova Scotia!” And with that, Roy and Gilbert were left alone, one smirking while the other was holding his fists so tightly that crescent cuts were beginning to form from his fingernails. 

Seconds had ticked by when Roy cracked a smirk. “You alright, Gil?” 

“I’m fine.” Gilbert mumbled. Roy’s lips dropped into a frown as he rested the pitcher on the table, stepping towards the platform. 

“It’s alright Gil, you can tell me. We’re friends aren’t we?” Roy clapped his hands against Gilbert’s shoulders. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Gilbert yanked his shoulders away, for fear if lingered a moment longer he would lose control. “Don’t touch me...” 

Roy held his hands up defensively, chuckling. “Woah Doc. What’s the problem?”

“What’s your problem, friend?” Gilbert spat back at him. Roy smirked and let out a dry chuckle as he cocked his head to the side. 

“My problem? Hmm, let me think.” He tapped his chin as if he was deep in thought and began pacing in front of the stairs. “Well I have problems with quite a few things actually. The color fuchsia, chalk dust, messy hair and clothes, someone hurting people I deeply care for,” he peered over as he ceased pacing. “Oh, and poor little farm boys who are trying to pretend to be something they are not.” Gilbert felt his face flush out of rage and embarrassment as Roy stepped forward again, their noses almost touching. “Which, I’m pretty sure you share at least three of those things, don’t you Gil?” Gilbert bit down on the scab in his cheek, causing his mouth to fill with metallic tasting liquid. Don’t stoop to his level. Focus on Anne. 

He swallowed, pushing past Roy to make his way to the pitcher. “We should get back upstairs.” Gilbert mumbled. 

“You’re right. We should.” Roy stepped up the platform, ready to ascend the stairs before he quickly turned back. “Oh, one more question, Gil. Do you know where Anne’s soap is? She so enjoys when I wash her.”

Gilbert stiffened. “What did you say?”

Roy shrugged. “I know it's taboo to see each other before the wedding but...we simply couldn’t resist.” Gilbert felt his stomach fall to the floor, he felt as if he could vomit. He must have paled because Roy smiled wickedly. “Man to man? She has the softest breasts...” 

Rage blinded Gilbert as he threw himself across the kitchen, taking Roys shirt within his hands and shoving him against the wall with such force he was sure he would push him through it. 

Roy cackled. “So you do have feelings!” 

Gilbert’s voice came out close to a growl. “Don’t talk about her like she is your goddamn play thing.” 

“Oh? And why not?” Roy grinned maliciously, it was almost as if he was having fun. “She’s my bride to be. That makes her my toy to play with.” 

The next moments passed in a blur. Roy being thrown from the steps and crashing into the kitchen table. Gilbert throwing a rage fueled punch into his opponent's cheek. Mrs Lyndes screams of horror as Marilla cried for Cole. Roy laughed as he caught Gilbert’s second punch and shoved him into the wall. Gilbert’s head bounced against the wall, dazing him for only a moment as he saw Roy beeline for the door.

He caught his footing, sprinting after the man who was trying to escape. Marilla screamed for him to stop but he couldn’t hear her. After days of feeling rage and keeping it contained, it had finally boiled out of the pot.

Roy was waiting just outside the door by the wall, holding a foot out  as he ran through the door. Gilbert tripped, flying across the porch before crashing into Anne’s dormant daylilies. He rolled onto his back, gasping for the wind that was just knocked out of him. Roy jumped off the porch, smirking down at his fallen foe. “Well, that was easier than I thought.” He cocked an eyebrow, as if he was genuinely confused. “Still have no idea what she sees in you.”

“You don’t... deserve...her.” Gilbert panted out between each laboured breath. 

Roy let out a hearty chuckle. “That’s real rich coming from you.” Gilbert ignored him and tried to reach for the standing man ankle. Roy pressed down hard with the heel of his shoe, applying just enough pressure to pin his hand to the ground. “Do you realize how many times you have broken her heart? How many times I heard her cry over you?” He pressed down harder with each question as he bared his teeth. Gilbert groaned, he felt like his hand was going to be crushed at any moment. “And now I come here and find out you’re nothing special. Nothing more than a…” He felt his knuckle shift, if Roy stepped down much harder, his hand would break. “Pathetic...little...”

“Royal!” Cole shouted as he threw open the screened door. Roy’s attention shot to Cole, lifting his foot just enough that Gilbert could pull his hand free. Gilbert rolled over, grabbing his opponents ankle and yanking him to the ground. 

“Gilbert, stop!” Diana screamed, but he couldn’t bear her. All he could hear was ringing in his ears, hatred consuming his soul. Cole lunged forward just as Gilbert was about climb on top of the downed man and wrapped  his arms around him. Roy scrambled to his feet and sprinted away. 

Gilbert struggled in Cole’s grasp before he reared his head back, making contact with some part of Cole’s face. “Shit!” Cole yelled, releasing Gilbert. He didn’t hesitate for a moment before he dug his feet into the dirt and took off after the man he had quickly come to hate.

They were halfway across the yard when he finally began to close the distance between them. Gilbert’s lungs stung and is head throbbing but the pain was good, it made him push himself. It added to the rage. 

Gilbert was a few paces away when Roy made the mistake of looking back, causing him to stumble. Got you. He smiled devilishly as his fingers curled around his opponents collar and pulled him back sharply. Roy crashed to the ground, winded just as Gilbert had been a few moments prior. 

Diana and Cole screamed for him to stop. He wanted to listen, he knew he should listen. But every ounce of anger that he had suppressed, not only from this weekend, but the last two years since he proposed to the wrong woman, was finally out. Gilbert threw himself on top of the man who earned the affection of the woman he truly loved, the man who he thought he should be. Roy struggled beneath him but it was no use, Gilbert’s full weight rested on top of him and his arms were pinned. He raised his fist when Cole grabbed his arm. “Stop! This isn’t you!” he cried. Gilbert threw his elbow back, making contact with his friend's stomach. Cole stumbles back and Gilbert brought his fist down, making contact with Roy’s cheek. 

“Jerry! Jerry!” Diana screamed towards the barn as a second punch came down, this one grazing connecting with his opponents lip. Where’s that smug grin now? He thought. His knuckles stung, he was sure that skin had broken on them but that didn’t stop him from pulling his fists back for another punch. 

He aimed for Roy's nose, hoping to shift it just enough that he would have to breathe through his mouth for the rest of his life but was stopped when strong arms wrapped around him. Suddenly he was being pulled up and dragged away from his opponent. 

“Get off of me!” he growled, thrashing wildly, hoping to break free. He wasn’t done yet. He wanted to hit him harder, he wanted him to ensure he would never disrespect Anne again. 

“Calm down!” Jerry shouted. Gilbert thrashed, doing everything in his power to break free but it was no use. Jerry had become the caretaker of the farm since Matthew’s passing, which meant not only did he have almost a foot on Gilbert, but he had the muscles to match. If Gilbert had continued working at the farm, perhaps he could stand a chance but his months in Paris had made him weaker. He stopped thrashing, his fury simmering down. Jerry still held onto him in fear he would soon lash out again.

Cole dropped down next to Roy, who had somehow moved himself into a sitting position. He lifted a tender hand to Roy’s cheek, almost appearing like he was going to stroke it, when he quickly shifted it down to his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy.” He mumbled, spitting out a glob of blood. Gilbert smirked in satisfaction.

Diana breathed a sigh of relief before she shot daggers to Gilbert, stomping furiously towards him. It was only then  Jerry let go of him. He knew all too well of the wrath of the young Barry woman. She lifted a sharp hand and smacked him. “What the hell is wrong with you Gilbert?!”

Gilbert’s blood boiled again as his hand went to nurse his cheek. “What’s wrong with me?” He laughed dryly and pointed to Roy. “You should be asking what is wrong with him! He has been an absolute prick for no goddamn reason!”

“Oh, I have my reasons.” Roy said dryly as Cole helped him to his feet. “And all of them involve you being a selfish bastard.” Gilbert’s fists formed once again, begging to meet his face once again when Diana forced herself in between the two men.

“That is enough!” She boomed, looking between the two sides. “Both of you are being selfish bastards! Have you both forgotten why we are here? Anne!” They looked away from each other and to the ground, both feeling very ashamed. Diana’s voice shook as she spoke. “She is sick, so very sick. And she needs us.” Her eyes began welling tears and her knees were wobbling so intensely Gilbert thought she might fall over. “All of us are important to her…”

“Some more than others.” Roy said smugly and Gilbert couldn’t stop himself. He marched forward, ready to tackle Roy back to the ground when Diana screamed.

“They aren’t in love!”

Gilbert stumbled as he skidded to a stop, his heart racing. Did she just say what he think she said? He turned slowly towards her.“What did you just say?” 

Roy raised a hand to his chest dramatically. “Diana, how dare you insinuate…”

“Enough Roy,” Cole placed a tentative hand back on his friend’s shoulder. “You just picked a fight with him and lost, don’t you think this charade has gone too far?”

Roy gritted his teeth, looking ready to argue with everyone. Cole shook his head gently and Roy scowled. “Dammit…”

The group stood silently, all exchanging glances that ranged from anger, sadness, and utter confusion. No one spoke. No one moved. It was as if time had stopped. A hawk screech overhead, indicating that time was still moving forward, that what Gilbert heard was in fact reality and not a strange dream. 

“Well...this is awkward.” Jerry laughed dryly, hoping to ease some of the tension but it only earned him a glare from everyone. He nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “Sorry.”

Gilbert finally began to process the words Diana had said fully. They weren’t… in love? He looked to Diana, hoping she would clarify on what was said but her eyes looked remorsefully at her two friends. Cole looked nervous as he held tightly to Roy’s shoulder, as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. 

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have... it wasn’t my place...” Diana whispered.

“It’s alright Diana.” Roy’s demeanor had changed completely. Instead the air of arrogance in his voice, it was soft, kind almost as he spoke. He looked up at Cole. “As usual, Cole is right. I went too far.” Roy brought a tender hand up to meet Coles, both smiling gently at one another. 

Gilbert rubbed his temples, his head was really starting to hurt now. “Will someone please explain to me what is going on?” Three pairs of eyes found there way to his, a mix of embarrassment, anxiety, and what he could only guess was fear, filled each one. He turned to Diana, hoping that she would explain her words to him. “Diana, what do you mean Roy and Anne aren’t in love?”

She hesitated, ashamedly looking down at the ground. “It isn’t my place…” 

“Gilbert, allow me to explain.” Cole stepped forward, positioning his body defensively in front of Roy. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “What Diana said, it’s true. Roy isn’t in love with Anne.” 

“Ah merde!” Jerry mumbled. 

Gilbert shook his head and pressed his fingernails into his palm. His anger was trying to make a reappearance. “If he isn’t in love with her...why would he propose?” He wanted to get his hands around the smug bastards neck but one glance at Roy, all forms of confidence had been erased. Instead his gaze was to the floor, almost cowering behind the blonde man. The mere sight of it almost made Gilbert laugh. “What? No fancy words now? No explanation on why you would want to marry someone you don’t love?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Roy mumbled. Gilbert pulled his fist back, ready to throw himself over Cole when Diana pushed him back. 

“It was Anne’s idea!” She screamed. 

Gilbert’s stomach dropped with his fist. Anne knew? “Wh-what? Why... would she do that?”

“She was doing it for us.” Cole’s voice cracked as he spoke, tears filling his eyes as he reached back and grabbed Roy’s hand within his own. Both of them were shaking. “To help protect us.” Gilbert was completely lost now. Why would two men over six foot need Anne to protect them?

”Mon dieu,” Jerry whispered from directly behind Gilbert. “You… two are...”

Cole and Roy both held their breath, waiting for Gilbert to finally place the final piece of the puzzle together. His eyes trailed down to their enlaced hands, realization dawned on him. His jaw dropped as he tried to form words. “Wait, you two are...?”

Diana quickly stepped forward to place herself in between the men. “Gilbert, you may not like Roy, but Cole is your friend. Don’t do anything rash.”

“Anne… you two...” Gilbert worked the words the best he could. His head was spinning, he wasn’t sure if he could walk straight let alone do anything stupid. “In love... but Roy is engaged to Anne... Anne knew…” Suddenly, a happier thought formed and he looked up. “Roy doesn’t love Anne?”

Diana opened her mouth but Roy stepped forward. He looked confident now, almost returning to the cockiness that Gilbert had come to know him for. “I think it would be best if I explained. But we should start making our way back.” He cast a glance towards the house, where Marilla could be seen standing on the porch. “I’m sure Miss Cuthbert will want an explanation of our… activities.”

[losfacedevil]

Be Alright -- JayxCarlos Angst

a/n~ I literally just write for @happilycameron​ and myself at this point BUT a lovely Nonny also sent in a request that went super well with something I was already writing. This is going to have a second part, Jay WILL fix his fuck up! Enjoy!

“Carlos, Hey! Los, I’m talking to you!” The taller boy took off at a jog, knowing full well the smaller boy wouldn’t stop if he was in one of his moods. Catching up to him in no time he placed his hand on the smaller boys shoulder, spinning him to face him. “Are you okay? What’s going on?” The smaller boy shrugged Jays’ hand off of his shoulder, screwing up his face. “No, no I’m not okay. Is that what you wanna hear, Jay?” He sucked his teeth, arms crossing over his chest. Jay sighed, arms swinging by his sides. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, usually they were holding onto the smaller boys, the boy he loved. “What’s going on?” Jays voice was firm, wasn’t going to back down from what was going on. Carlos rolled his eyes, his aggravation evident on his face. “Do you really have to ask that? Are you really that blind?” He averted his gaze elsewhere, didn’t want to see what he knew would be playing in the taller boys eyes. “Blind to what?” Jay was genuinely curious, completely oblivious to the world around him. “Jay.” Carlos crossed his arms over his chest, tears prickling the backs of his eyes. “Los?” He questioned, a sigh slipping passed his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “I’m not as stupid or as blind as you seem to think I am. But it’s clear to me you don’t see what you’re doing.” Jay took a step forward, reaching out and placing his hand on Carlos’ cheek. The younger boy shying away from the intimate touch he usually welcomes. “Los, talk to me.”

Anger bubbled in Carlos’ chest, an anger he hadn’t felt since he stepped foot off of the Isle. It was the same anger Cruella ignited in him when she’d smack him around, call him every name in the book for missing a single crumb while sweeping.  He took a deep breath, not wanting to show how he truly felt.

“Just fuckin’ forget it, Jay. Go be with your other boyfriend.” The smaller boy averted his face elsewhere, knew he had sounded harsher than he meant to. “What are you talking about?” Jay mumbled, an almost knowing look flashing in his eyes. “I see the eyes you make at Gil, I know that’s where you’ve been spending your nights. Do you think I’m stupid? I can smell the pirate on you when you crawl into bed with me. I thought for once I had someone that actually cared unlike my... Cruella. But I should have known Isle trash like me doesn’t fucking deserved to be loved.” He could feel the tears prickling the backs of his eyes as his voice rose in volume. He didn’t realize it at first but he was yelling full volume for the entirety of Auradon Preps’ courtyard to hear. Jay took a step back, hurt evident in his features. “Is that how you truly feel?” He mumbled, his lip curling as he swallowed his own anger. “I don’t feel anything!” “Well you clearly feel something, why are you yelling at me?!” Carlos screwed up his face, couldn’t believe the older boy was being so oblivious. “My heart was just ripped from my chest and stepped on, why do you think I’m yelling, Jay?” Jays face dropped, gaze finding the dog tail that hung off of Carlos’ belt loop. “Y’know what? Forget I said anything.” Carlos sighed, turning on his heel and stalking away from the older boy. Tears pooled in his eyes as his heart shattered even more.

~*~*~*

Carlos slammed the door to the dorm room behind him, glad that Jay hadn’t followed him. He didn’t know how to process how he felt; pain, anger, completely heart broken.

A growl erupted from his throat as he made his way across the room to his desk; arms outstretched he pushed everything from the desk onto the floor. Papers fanned out across the floor as he kicked his binder for chemistry class, the notes no longer holding any significance to him.

The latest machine he had been tinkering with crashed to the ground, shattering and sending pieces everywhere. Tears prickled behind Carlos’ eyes as he realized he has ruined his latest invention but he knew the tears were for more than that. His eyes landed on his bed, the one both boys shared, their pillows stacked on their respective sides as their favorite blankets laid in a twisted mess.

He stomped his feet as he made his way to his bed, yanking Jays belongs off and tossing them onto his bed across the room. Carlos collapsed onto his bed, sobs wracking his small frame as he pulled his phone out, needed to let Jay know he meant business.

‘Don’t worry, you’ll have an extra bed in your room in an hour, I’m telling FG I’m moving in with Doug.’

~*~*~

Jay sighed as his phone vibrated in his pocket, wasn’t ready to talk to anyone at the moment. Stuffing the last of the cake Lonnie had snuck him in his mouth he pulled his phone out, expecting a text from the girls to light up his screen. He damn near choked as he read the text his boyfriend had sent him.

“No,no,no! You can’t do this to me, de Vil!” He didn’t realize he was yelling or that everyone in the cafeteria was watching his melt down. Tears pooled in his eyes as he stood, not caring to clean up his mess as he took off full speed towards the dorms.

~*~*~

Jay didn’t know what he would see when he opened the door to their room. Pressing his ear to the door he listened intently, hoping that whatever anger Carlos had had towards him had disappeared. Resting his hand on the door knob he took a deep breath, eyes slipping shut before entering the room.

Pulling another deep breath in through his nose he let the door click shut gently behind him as his eyes fluttered open. Instantly his heart shattered as he took in Carlos’ side of the room. Books, papers the lot spread across the floor. He spotted the machine Los had been happily chattering away about earlier in the day smashed to bits and knew he had messed up.

He heard the sniffles before he spotted the boys foot peeking out from his hiding spot. Carlos was curled up behind the headboard of his bed smushed between the headboard and dresser, the smallest space he could find to fit himself into. Jay sighed as he slowly made his way around the mess Carlos had made, not wanting to step on any of the younger boys belongings.

“Los?” His voice was soft as to not startle or upset the boy more. “Go away.” A soft hiccup escaped the smaller boy as he turned away from Jay, didn’t want him to see how broken he truly was. Jay sighed, resting on the edge of Carlos’ bed. “Los, please.” His voice was barely a whisper as he rested his arm on the headboard of the bed. “I said go away.” Carlos spat, anger seeping into his tone. “Let me explain.” Jay rested his chin on his arm, the smaller boy finally coming into his line of vision.

Jays heart shattered even more as he took in the sight of the smaller boy. He sat curled up as tight as he could get himself, arms wrapped around his knees as his face was buried in a tourney jersey.

“Go explain to Gil.” Carlos sniffled, never lifting his head. Jay sighed, tears prickling the backs of his eyes. “Go explain what to Gil?” He needed to know Carlos’ thought process. The smaller boy hiccuped, moving just enough for the jersey to shift. Jay pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as his name came into view. “Go explain to him that I’m done, he can have you.” Jay let the tears fall that were welling in his eyes, no longer holding his bad boy persona. “Los, don’t do this to me. I don’t want Gil, I want you.”

An evil chuckle escaped Carlos’ lips as he pulled himself out of his hiding spot; Jays jersey still clutched protectively in his hands. Raising his arm he made the motion of throwing the jersey at Jay, causing the older boy to flinch slightly. Another chuckle slipped past the younger boys lips as he pulled the jersey to his face.

“Fuck you.” The younger boy mumbled, voice muffled by the material. Jay sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face; still oblivious. “I’d fuck you in a heartbeat but that’s not going to fix the problem at hand. Tell me what’s wrong, Los.” The younger boy chuckled, low and evil as he let the jersey fall to the floor, kicking it onto the older boys side of the room.

“Tell you what’s wrong? What’s wrong is I had to hear that you’re going on some trip with Gil at the end of the year from Gil! The fact that you couldn’t even be arsed to fucking tell me yourself. He literally came up to me at lunch and asked me if I was really cool with my boyfriend taking off with him for the summer!”

The older boys gaze dropped as he let his head fall. He had been meaning to tell the younger boy that his plans for his leap year had changed but hadn’t figured out how to lessen the blow. Jay sighed, lifting his gaze to meet Carlos’; fire burning behind the younger boys eyes.

“I was going to tell you.” The older boys voice was barely a whisper. Carlos sucked his teeth, arms crossing over his chest. “Oh yeah? When? When your bags were packed and you were half way out the door on Gil’s heels?! I can’t believe you had me fooled thinking you loved me.” His gaze dropped, watching where the small pieces of his latest machine went as he kicked them. “Carlos, don’t go there. I do love you. I was going to tell you I just...” the older boy sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I just wanted to figure out how to lessen the thought to avoid this blow out.”

Jay stood, closing the small distance between he and Carlos in two strides. He reached out, caressing the younger boy’s face. Carlos leaned into Jays touch briefly before turning away, back facing the older boy.

“Just go be with Gil, it’s clear he’s who you want.” His voice carried the unmistakeable tone of anguish as he made his way around the older boy, eyes never leaving the floor. Jay watched as the younger boy collapsed on his bed, burying his face in his pillow trying to shut out the world.

Jay sighed once more, hands scrubbing over his face as he took a step back. He sat on his own bed, too aware that it hadn’t been slept in for months, too aware that his favorite blanket now sat on his own bed and not on his favorite boys bed. He pulled a deep breath in through his nose, willing away the tears that prickled the backs of his eyes. He knew the younger boy needed his space but wasn’t sure how to deal with the anger he felt. He wasn’t sure how to deal with the heartbreak he had caused both the younger boy and himself other than to curl in on himself and shut down. Jay laid across his bed, hands fisted in his hair as a scream bubbled in his chest. A noise he knew he couldn’t emit for fear of startling and scaring the younger boy even more.

He wasn’t aware of how much time had passed when he heard the younger boy stir. Turning his head he watching as Carlos rose from his bed, his face wracked with emotion and tear stained cheeks. Blood shot eyes locked with Jays as the younger boy sniffled, hands scrubbing any remnants of tears off of his face. Taking a step forward Carlos snatched the tourney jersey Jay knew was his off of the floor and stalked to the door. The older boy sat up swiftly, clearing his throat as he did so.

“Los, please. Can we talk?” The younger boy shot a glare over his shoulder, hand gripping the door knob as a chuckle escaped him. “You broke my fucking heart, Jay, and I can’t help but fucking love you.” With that the younger boy opened the door to their dorm, stepping out and slamming it behind him.

[draw-you-coward]

post-shadowbringers! will contain whatever spoilers are relevant.

ao3

~*~

“Are you sure Urianger will want to go swimming?” Ryne sounds as if she knows the answer to her question, and it is ‘no.’ “I don’t think he likes the water very much.”

“Nonsense!” Thancred mouths the word along with Ikael’s loud exclamation. Ikael continues, oblivious, “He will be very excited, I am sure. I bought a bathing suit for him and everything!”

Thancred had, unfortunately, accompanied him on that particular shopping trip to Eulmore. “Ikael thinks his excitement about something is unavoidably infectious,” he calls over his shoulder. “Wait until he bullies you into a shopping spree ‘because it’s fun, Thancred!’”

He pitches his voice into a whiny approximation of Ikael’s. It must be accurate, because Ryne’s wide eyes go wider, and she claps her hands over her mouth to stifle a laugh. It doesn’t work, although funnier yet is the look on Ikael’s face.

“I—J—Wh—Oh,” he stammers, tacking on what Thancred is sure is his attempt at a glower. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that. Who was it who spent half a bell in the children’s section worrying over two identical bathing suits because you ‘didn’t know whether Ryne would like the green or the purple one better? Help me pick, Ikael, ohh,’” He lays a dramatic hand across his forehead. “‘I am so-o-o lost without your amazing fashion advice, won’t you please help m-e-e?’”

Thancred refuses to be made to feel embarrassed over his diligence. Still. “I don’t sound like that,” he gripes. His voice can't go that high.

He pretends not to notice Ryne’s stare, and continues to march forwards, keeping his head high. Inwardly, his heart warms at seeing hers so light at their banter, even if the actual shopping trip had been decidedly less innocent and had mostly involved… Ikael only, of course, making suggestive comments about the… shapes of the merchandise on offer. In what was most decidedly not the children’s section. City of paradise indeed.

Maybe he’ll tell Ryne about the flaming nipple brassiere when she’s older. Maybe. Because that one had actually been quite funny.

“Did you really buy me something?” Ryne has trotted up to him. “Thancred?”

He glances down at her, which is a mistake, because it makes him smile and he is still supposed to be stoically taciturn to balance out Ikael. “Of course,” he says. “The opportunity to pointlessly spend even more time here but in less clothing cannot be missed. More to the point, Ikael loves wasting money on things like these.”

“Mhm!” Ikael hums brightly.

“See?”

“But… what else is in the bag?” Ryne shoots a furtive glance at the large sac Ikael is hauling on his back, heavy and fit to bursting. “It can't just be clothing, right?”

Thancred snorts. “You’d be surprised,” he says dryly. “But not all of it, no. Ikael has simply gone over the top. Trust me when I say that I stopped him as much as I was able to.”

(“I am not wearing that thing around Ryne,” Thancred warns. Ikael rolls his eyes, but nods, and then tosses it in their shopping cart nevertheless. Thancred takes it back out.

“And neither are you,” he adds glacially.)

“We’re here!” Ikael declares, dropping the bag. It flops gracelessly on the ground. He glances around the decidedly empty beach. “Where is Urianger?”

“Either in Eulmore on a last-minute shopping trip for arm-floats,” Thancred intones, “or late from fishing out the information from his contact here that we are actually meeting for.”

“It isn’t like him to be late.” Ryne looks around worriedly, cradling her hands to her chest. “Do you think he got into trouble?”

“And delay his chance to spoil you rotten?” Thancred smiles at her lightly. “Do not worry; I am sure he’s fine. Here, why don’t you go change?”

He kneels down and tugs the bag open, beginning to sort through it. More towels than the four of them will need, dresses for Ryne… sleeping clothes for Ryne, socks for Ryne, leggings for Ryne, at least five completely differently styled shirts for Ryne… is that an umbrella? Thancred shakes his head. Gods help him. And Urianger is the one who spoils her.

He finally finds the (purple) bathing suit. It is nice, he thinks: simple, with little frills on the arms and a cute picture of a unicorn on the front. …The green one had a frog. They weren’t completely identical.

“That outcropping over there.” He nods at it as he hands the bathing suit to Ryne. “Go on.”

She goes. Thancred looks at Ikael, and asks, “Be a good chap and search for Urianger?”

“Fifty gil that he’s drowning,” Ikael replies sadly, but nods and trots off. He is good at this sort of thing—Thancred is certain he will arrive just in time to pull Urianger from the jaws of (possibly aquatic) death, or something of the sort. He even thinks he notices Ikael jot something down in his journal as he leaves. Odd fellow.

Thancred takes his coat off, laying it on the ground to sit on as he undresses. He had worn his new and soon-to-be-thrown-away bathing suit underneath his armour, because he does not want to risk flashing a child. He hesitates to put his gunblade aside, silly as it might seem, but they have done a thorough perimeter check, and should be safe.

Probably. Thancred lays it trigger side facing him, just in case.

Ryne comes back out as he is sorting through the—many, many—towels, and he ties her hair into a bun and he reassures her that yes, Ikael will be back soon, and yes, surely Urianger will be fine, and no, of course he didn’t skip out on beach evening, because why would he do something like that? He probably got eaten by a fish or something of the sort; Ikael will fish him up. Yes, he is certain Ikael somehow has a fishing rod hidden somewhere on his person.

Ikael does indeed come back soon, with an Urianger that looks no worse for the wear in tow. If he is holding himself a little stiffly, that is of course neither here nor there. If Thancred will take a peek in Ikael’s journal afterwards to find out what happened, that is also neither here nor there.

“This is the part where you give me money!” Ikael declares in a lackluster sort of voice.

“What?” says Thancred.

“Prithee forgive me for mine tardiness.” Urianger bows deeply. Ryne rushes forward to hug him, and he straightens up with a ridiculously soft expression. Great. Thancred is surrounded.

Ikael walks over to him. “Norvrandt keeping you in shape, yeah?” he says alongside a lingering look.

“I thought you didn’t approve of my ‘regression from rugged mountain man?’” Thancred comments. He nods at the rocky outcropping. “Don’t strip in front of Ryne, please.”

“I still have eyes, Thancred,” Ikael complains, and begins to strip not in front of Ryne, who isn’t looking, but at least in front of Urianger, who unfortunately happens to be facing in his direction. The latter tries to both keep Ryne’s attention and subtly shield his eyes, which is incredibly amusing to watch, Thancred will admit. Thankfully, Ikael seems to have done as Thancred has, although he could have said so before pulling his brais down and nearly giving him a heart attack.

Thancred's eyes are immediately drawn to a new scar along Ikael’s stomach; still fresh and pink, although seemingly magically reduced. He notes the placement (painful), estimates the age, estimates the recovery time, and frowns internally. Ikael has… gone back to the Source only once since journeying with Ryne and himself, right? Other than that, when…?

“I must say, I appreciate the attention,” Ikael says with a slanted smile. It is just as Thancred is about to shelve thoughts of how aware he should be of his companion’s injuries (Ryne’s he can notice without much difficulty, but the fact that he cannot with Ikael is more troubling to him than it should be). “Do you want me to do a spin?”

Thancred quirks his lips and makes a rotating motion with his hand. Ikael gasps in faux delight before preening and doing a showy little twirl, his tail curling extra dramatically at the end of it.

He bows, to singular applause. “Oh, wow!” cries Ryne, looking as if she is being completely genuine. “You know, you could be a dancer!”

“Thine star wouldst be ill prepared for such a turn of fate’s wheel,” Urianger tells her. Thancred holds back a snort of amusement, not wanting to tip Ikael off that he is being insulted. Ikael himself does not seem to know what to make of the comment, but after a second or so he seems to give up trying to puzzle it out and beams, bowing once more.

“Thank you, thank you!” he says. He cocks his hand on his hip. “So, Urianger, guess what I bought you…?”

~*~

The sunset over Kholusia is still a new sight, and they are all taking the time to appreciate it. Ryne especially so. She is sitting in the shallows with Ikael, apparently content to simply share his company in silence. Thancred and Urianger are lying on the shore on a pile of many towels, having finished their debriefing some time ago.

Urianger wrings out a corner of his skirt. He and Ikael had compromised; Urianger would go in the water, but only if he did not have to change into “yonder scant… garment.”  The result had been some teasing, a lot of enthusiastic splashing, and one very nervous astrologian arching his neck as much as he could.

“So,” Urianger says into the setting sun and the beach’s gentle breeze, “How fareth thine nascent liaison with Ikael? To mine own eye, all seemeth well.”

“’Tis not a liaison,” Thancred returns, half-hearted but still aware just in case Urianger is reading things the wrong way. “He does not quite… work like that, you know.”

“Full aware am I of the reach of his heart.” Urianger’s voice is warm with something like fondness, and when Thancred glances at him, he sees nothing but understanding in his gaze. “Thou must forgive me; I thought it an apt word regardless of its nuance. Thou wilt admit ‘tis an ambitious venture to find a suitable substitute.”

Thancred looks away. “I suppose so,” he says. “Well, things are going well. Quite well, I’d say. He has made me aware that some of my goals may require more than simply mine own efforts to fulfil properly. He notices where I’m lacking, when I might not.”

“’Tis foolish to not accept aid when it ist readily given,” Urianger agrees sagely. “There lieth no shame on yonder path.”

“I know.” Thancred leans back, staring up at the sky. “I will admit it is difficult to let my guard down enough to, say, be more affectionate. But it is easier when we are alone, and Ikael says that is enough for him and Ryne to know that I care.”

Even now, it feels somewhat awkward to speak of things like these, accustomed as he is to avoiding the subject. But now what is done is done, and he does not have to avoid anything any longer. Urianger nods.

“’Twill take time to adjust, and thou hast that now in spades,” he says. “Thou hast also Ikael, and his patience. And Ryne’s barest expectations to exceed.”

“Ouch,” Thancred says dryly. But he acknowledges the apt commentary with a faint smirk. “Yes, I do. I have my second chance, and I will not despoil it. Not like I did with Minfilia.”

Urianger eyes him knowingly, but says nothing. After a moment, he slowly lies down next to Thancred.

“Speaking of Ikael,” Thancred remarks, keeping his tone light, “Did you notice the scar on his stomach? Do you know when he got that injury?”

Urianger’s pause is telling. Still, Thancred does not wholly expect it when he answers, “Three suns ago, he hath told me.”

Three days? Thancred looks at Ikael instinctively. He is telling Ryne some kind of story, enthusiastic and animated. And yes, now that Thancred is looking, he notices the slight stiffness in his gesticulations, and how he is not moving his arms too high. Godsdammit. And if Ikael was speaking to Thancred, expecting his observation? Would he notice then?

“You were the one who expedited its healing.” Thancred speaks to the cloudless sky. It couldn’t have been anyone else, not that recently. Urianger nods, and Thancred's lids droop.

“Did he want you to ease the pain, or…?”

“He wished to reduce the wound’s appearance to hide it from thy discerning gaze.” Urianger’s voice is kind and quiet. “He didst not wish for thee to worry.”

Thancred says nothing. Urianger continues, in the same tone, “He ist not indomitable, thou knowest very well. Although perhaps thine visible attitude on the matter hath affected the extent of what he is prepared to reveal to thee. I wouldst fain assume thou art not the only soul who hath learnt to hide his pains.”

Thancred counts his breaths. After three of them, he says, “It’s always the nice ones who hide it the best, isn’t it?”

Urianger replies, “Kindness ist an act of voluntary will, and not a state of being as many wouldst presume.”

Thancred smiles wanly. “Then you, being a kind man, will forgive me when I say that I still feel as if I should have noticed. And… Ikael of all people. It hasn’t even been that long for him; I should have…”

Urianger shakes his head. “Do not insult him with thine presumption that he ist not as complex as one such as thyself,” he says. “And do not despair over his desire to not be known in whole. It shall come in time, as it will with thee also.”

Thancred exhales a warm puff of air. Urianger is right, he realizes. Besides, Thancred himself would be a hypocrite to lecture Ikael on not revealing the full extent of his injuries. It doesn’t mean either of them should be doing it, but…

Thancred reaches out blindly, searching for Urianger’s shoulder. He squeezes it briefly before letting his hand lay limp. “Thank you.”

“I am ever here to be of service,” Urianger replies in a somewhat pointed tone. Thancred almost rolls his eyes; what was it Alisaie had said? Ah yes: to live somewhere less annoying next time. Then maybe they will visit him more often.

Ryne and Ikael are coming over to them, the latter somehow managing to walk in a crooked line that directly blocks Thancred's sunlight (he is doing it on purpose, Thancred is nearly certain). Ryne smiles at him, happy and bright from whatever fun she had been having with Ikael, and he finds himself smiling back.

“Come on,” he mutters, patting the space between him and Urianger. There are enough towels layered across the beach for the entirety of the Scions to lay on without so much as touching a grain of sand. Ryne’s face lifts, and she scuttles over.

 “Wherefore art these sandy feet sullying mine robes?” Urianger bemoans dramatically. Ryne giggles, dragging her toes against his skirts. “Alas! Thou hast bested me, scourge of the sands.”

“Is he trying to tell me to fight Ravana again?” Ikael murmurs as he settles in on Thancred's other side. Thancred feels the wet smack of a tail against his leg.

“No, he is saying that you are dirtying all of these lovely towels that you bought with your disgusting little monk feet.” Thancred tips his head to fall towards Ikael. A warm arm presses against his. “More or less.”

“Is that what Urianger is saying or is that what Thancred is saying?” Ikael mumbles. Predictably, his eyes begin to close.

“Thancred is saying that if you start making like an octopus while you sleep, he will leave you here with only your exorbitant towels for company,” Thancred warns. Even as he says it, Ikael’s arm stretches out across his abdomen, trapping him. Thancred thinks he feels a leg start to move.

“’Tis too late now,” Urianger rumbles sagely. Ryne giggles, reaching out to join Ikael’s hand. Five minutes later, she is also asleep.

“Like one child, like another,” Thancred mutters to himself, although he does not mind. Why does everyone keep falling asleep on him all the time? He blames Ikael for starting it.

“Thou art childish enough to protest,” Urianger responds, which Thancred thinks is his way of telling him to shut up. “Now lay near thine family and be at peace.”

So Thancred does just that.

~*~

[10dreamt]

What's one thing about each of your muses that you hate when everyone forgets it?

thank u for my life anon :’) this is going to go under a cut because oh boy its big. content warning for descriptions and drawn depictions of gore/violence and mentions of torture.

MARK TWAIN: he really is a dangerous person, despite the way he acts. he had no qualms about killing atsushi.

SUEHIRO TETCHO: he is also a very dangerous person. although he is just and fair and will not kill if necessary, he would be very terrifying to fight against.

MARGARET MITCHELL: she did everything she could to support her family.

NIKOLAI GOGOL: the four extremely gruesome murders he committed to get the attention of the ADA. shown below.

NATSUME SOUSEKI: he has connections to almost everyone in yokohama and is called one of the most powerful ability users.

EDOGAWA RANPO: oh boy. i get REALLY annoyed when people forget that ranpo is smarter than dazai at figuring things out–even though dazai beats him in terms of manipulation.

MUSHITARO OGURI: that he was the reason fyodor was able to trick ranpo

AYATSUJI YUKITO: he’s the most dangerous ability user according to the japanese government, and his ability is stated to even work on gods.

KAJII MOTOJIRO: he’s incredibly smart

H. P. LOVECRAFT: he likes chocolate and ice cream, and is stated to like tribute

TAYAMA KATAI: he is willing to face his fears for the sake of others

SHIBUSAWA TATSUHIKO: he literally tortured a young atsushi for his ability and then went on to try and collect every ability for himself in search of the ultimate ability

TOPAZ/KARMA: he wanted to be the boss of the port mafia

AGATHA CHRISTIE: she straight up really did try to obliterate yokohama to prevent the fog from spreading elsewhere

ANDRE GIDE: he blew up a van full of children

LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY: her unwillingness to get close to people which i usually poke fun at by calling her tsundere stems from a probable fear of being abandoned and/or rejected again

FUKUCHI OCHI: he’s the commander of the hunting dogs and presumably a very capable fighter–and his energetic personality isn’t all there is to him

DOGRA MAGRA: she’s an oc so i don’t know if this counts but probably that she encourages q to curse people as a misguided attempt to help

AKUTAGAWA RYUNOSUKE: he’s an abuse victim

YUZU: her and the rest of the sheep wanting to keep chuuya on their side wasn’t them being greedy because the sheep needed chuuya to stay as a formidable force

GENJI: he straight up hated himself for a good while there

TRACER: she shows a genuine interest in mondatta’s teaching

WIDOWMAKER: she is capable of feeling, just not very much

KANOU MOMIJI: she’s a hacker/infiltrator

GENTLE: he acknowledged the fact that what he was doing was wrong and resolved to change. also, he was willing to sacrifice himself so la brava would be able to walk freely

PIXIE-BOB: her obsessiveness with finding someone to date stems from a genuine want to start a family and a fear that she’s getting too old to do so

FUKIDASHI MANGA: one of his canon “likes” is making children smile

ROLAND FORTIS: he’s the newest chasseur

ALL OF LOVE: the fact that they did lie to misono for years and years which was selfish of them. also the fact that they feel no desire to show their body off post-stabbing, which suggests this is closer to their actual personality

THE MOTHER: she was married to her previous eve and had an apple farm with him

KAMIYA TSURUGI: his birthday–august 31–is the day touma found him and not his actual birthday. also, he has killed people, not just subclass vampires.

BELKIA: he can lift otogiri with one arm

RAYSCENT CRAZYRABBIT: he lost his arm fighting against touma

SENDAGAYA TETSU: he is genuinely upset by the fact that hugh is gone and is very worried about him, even if he’s not good at showing it

GEAR: he lives in a church basement alone fucking loser

NICCOLO CARPEDIEM: he’s willing to actually kill hugh (who appears to be 5)

MINAMI KENJIROU: fanboying over yuuri is NOT his only personality trait

SEUNG-GIL LEE: he doesn’t hate people, he’s just overly blunt and oblivious

SHIROGANE KEI: he acknowledges the fact that he has issues with not considering the feelings of others. also that he doesn’t make fun of demikas’s name anymore on the basis that not calling someone by their name is degrading and devaluing to them as a human.

MARIE SAKAMOTO: she cares very deeply for all of her guildmates

TATARA: she genuinely felt guilt for selling the sword that ended up giving a lot of people grief

HARUHITO KIJIMA: he likes to travel and is very picky with who he considers friends

AIZAWA CECILA: she was teased in the past for failing to be a “proper japanese lady”

KR: he was a doctor, is incredibly rich, and knows at least 4 languages fluently

SOUJIRO SETA: he’s decapitated someone

KINJO: there are multiple versions of him

ALIBABA SALUJA: he’s actually very put down when people tease him

REN KOUMEI: kouen stated that he was better at strategy in times of peace and planned to have him rule instead

LAN WANGJI: he disregards everyone’s feelings if they aren’t wei ying and it is a serious problem

JIN ZIXUAN: he wanted to have a happy family

A-QING: she cursed xue yang out as much as she could before she died like an absolute legend

MO XUANYU: he was very very upset by having let his mom down

NIE MINGJUE: that while his violent tendencies and angry outbursts can be blamed on the nie sect training and the saber spirit, he is a very prejudiced and judgmental person

FUKASE: i dunno man he’s a vocaloid what do you want me to say

[pocket-luv101]

I thought it would be funny to write Kuro and Hyde meeting their daughter’s date for the first time.

“Hyde scared him that much? I almost feel bad for that poor boy.” Mahiru laughed softly when Licht finished telling her about the dinner they shared with Lucy’s new boyfriend. While her friend had returned to Austria, they would often talk to each other over the phone to keep in contact. From where she sat in the living room, Mahiru glanced to Kuro who was making tea in the kitchen.

She smiled to herself and said, “Kuro is much more easygoing than Hyde. I wonder how he’ll act when Machi’s date comes. Tonight, her school is having a dance. I hope everything goes well for her. She must be both excited and nervous because this is her first date. I felt that way with Kuro. If their relationship turns out as happy as ours, she has a lot of great memories ahead of her.”

Mahiru continued to talk with her friend until Machi leaned out of her room and waved to her. “Mama, can you help me with my hair?”

“I’ll be right there, Sweetie! I have to go, Licht, but I’ll call you later and tell you how it goes.” Mahiru promised and ended the call. She placed her phone in her pocket and walked to Kuro. She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek fondly. “Machi’s date will be here soon. If we’re not done before he arrives, make small talk with the boy.”

“What do kids talk about these days? I feel so old right now. Can’t deal. Hopefully, her date likes vintage games or else it’s just going to be an awkward silence.” Kuro groaned and lifted his tea cup. He only stared at himself in the water. “Time passed quickly, didn’t it? It feels like she was learning how to walk yesterday. Machi is going on her first date now.”

“We raised her well so we don’t need to worry about anything.” Mahiru said confidently. She patted his shoulder reassuringly before she left his side to help Machi. He knew that Mahiru was right so he pushed his worries aside. Kuro brought the tea into the living so he could enjoy it with Mahiru later. When he set the tray down, he heard a knock.

He opened the door and the teenager on the other side greeted him politely. “Hello, Mr. Shirota. I’m here to pick up Machi.”

“She’s still getting ready but you can sit down and wait for her. I think she’ll be finished soon.” Kuro stepped aside and gestured to the living room. He sat down on the couch and watched the boy in the corner of his eyes. He thought of the first time he met Mahiru’s uncle formally and he remembered how nervous he was. “Machi told me you two are schoolmates. Are you in any clubs or sports?”

“I run in track.” He answered and Kuro nodded.

“At your age, I liked video games more than sports. Well, I still feel that way.” He tried to keep their conversation light and casual. “Machi would play fighting games with me when she was little. She’s a strong person like her mother. I should tell you—”

“Is this the part where you threaten me? I already know what you’re going to say so you don’t need to give me that stupid speech.” The boy interrupted him and Kuro’s brows drew together. A smug smile appeared on the kid’s face. It was obvious that he felt proud of himself for the retort. Kuro merely leaned back against the couch and he looked thoughtful for a moment.

He raised his voice only enough for his family down the hall to hear him. Kuro spoke in his usual lazy drawl as he asked: “Machi, is your tournament this Saturday or next Saturday?”

“It’s next Saturday.” She answered him. “I marked it on the calendar already.”

“I wanted to double check.” He said nonchalantly. Kuro tilted a cold, assessing glare towards her date. “Remember, if your opponent is taller than you, you should aim for their throat. Even if it’s a soft punch, they’ll be disorientated and you can hit other vital areas.”

“But, Papa, judo is more defensive throws. I would get disqualified if I did that!” Machi corrected him and Kuro grinned to himself.

The warmth in his eyes turned cold when he faced the teenager. He calmly told him: “Machi is a sweet but, like her mother, you can’t call her weak or naive. If you try anything, she’s perfectly capable of dealing with you herself. Whatever’s left, I’ll take care of afterwards. But we don’t need to worry about that if you treat her right. That’s your intention already, right?”

“Yes, sir!” He said frantically and nodded.

“Also, make an effort to learn more about her if you’re serious about dating her. If you don’t know her hobbies, your relationship won’t last long.” Kuro said. He might not have made the best impression on Kuro but he wanted to let Machi make her own decisions. He would always support his daughter and comfort her whenever she was hurt.

At that moment, Machi and Mahiru came out of the room. Machi smiled when she saw her date. “Takashi! You look great in your suit.”

“You’re beautiful too.” He returned the compliment. “Should we head to prom?”

“Okay! Bye, Mama, Papa, I’ll be back by ten. If anything happens, I’ll call you.” She promised and hugged them briefly. She waved to her parents before she left.

Once the door closed, Mahiru joined Kuro on the couch. She sat next to him and he handed her a cup of tea. She hummed pleasantly as she took a sip. Mahiru cuddled against his side and she glanced up at him. “So, you talked with the boy. What did you think of him? It can’t be good if you brought up Machi’s judo tournament. Machi said he was a nice boy but I can’t help worrying.”

“He’s a little cocky but he seems like a regular teenage jock. Machi can take him. Our daughter is strong and we’re here for her.” He shrugged and she giggled at his answer. “I would rather she finds someone sweet like you, Mahiru. She’s smart so she’ll make the right choice.”

“At least you didn’t try to scare him away like your brother did.”

“Hyde called earlier to complain about Lucy’s new boyfriend. As a father, I can relate to why he did it. He just wanted to protect his little girl.”

The dinner was a little tense because Hyde continued to glare at his guest across the table. His daughter was oblivious as she excitedly told her parent about her day. “They put up the cast for our recital, The Nutcracker, today! I was chosen to be the lead, Clara. Kota has a smaller role but he’s more interested in being an actor than a dancer.”

“I can’t wait to see you dance.” Hyde’s expression softened whenever he spoke with his family. “I knew you would be a brilliant dancer since you were five. You would dance and twirl whenever your mom played a song for you. We still have pictures and videos of you dancing.”

“Dad, you promised no baby pictures!” Lucy blushed and quickly stopped her father. She was grateful for her mother who pulled Hyde’s ear and twisted it mercilessly. Even though her dad could be embarrassing at times, she loved him.

Gil walked into the room carrying a large box. “I bought desert like you ordered.”

“My pie and ice cream! I’ll help you plate them and carry them out.” Lucy said sweetly and jumped to her feet. Honestly, she wanted the chance to sneak an extra large slice of pie for herself. She took one of the boxes from Gil and skipped to the kitchen.

“I’ll go help them. Behave yourself, Hedgehog.” Licht ordered before she followed her daughter to the kitchen. “If you don’t, you can’t have desert.”

“Don’t you trust me, Lichtan? What do you think I’ll do? Stab him with my fork?” Hyde laughed but it didn’t reach his eyes. He twirled his fork between his fingers and then stabbed his food. “I might be an overprotective demon but I won’t hurt the kid. That would make my angels upset. I can’t do that.”

Licht recognized the mischievous glint in his eyes but she only sighed. She left the two alone to help the two in the kitchen. Tension quickly filled the room once they were gone.

“So, you want to be an actor?” Hyde asked slowly once Licht and Lucy were too far to hear them. “It’s hard to break into the industry so you have to work hard and be ambitious. I actually worked as an assistant for a few celebrities when I was younger. It was… interesting. I met my wife through work. I knew a lot of celebrities but my Angel of Music will always be the brightest star I know.”

“Do you still keep in contact with those actors? I would love to speak with them.” The young boy asked excitedly but Hyde’s eyes narrowed. He was far too familiar with how people used networking to forward their careers. He didn’t think it was evil or wrong but he didn’t want the boy to date Lucy for her family name alone. It was rare to find someone like Licht who genuinely worked hard and didn’t rely on others.

Hyde couldn’t be certain of the teenager’s intention so he chose his next words carefully. “I know some people in the industry so maybe I can help you. Do you have a criminal record?”

“No, Sir!” He thought that it was an ordinary interview question. Hyde had to note that the boy was suddenly became animated. It was the most he talked since the dinner began. “Thank you so much for the opportunity. My parents said that I need connections to get big roles in movies.”

“That’s one way, I guess. Letting your hard work and talent speak for itself is another though.” Hyde said but he recognized the impatient look in his eyes. He decided to change the subject.  

“About your record, I can’t take your word alone. They’ll likely conduct a background check. But you don’t have to worry about it too much. If you’re smart like me, you’ll know ways around the police. That’s my little secret though, so you shouldn’t expect me to give you advice.” The boy couldn’t respond immediately because he thought he saw Hyde’s now brown eyes flash blood red briefly.  

“May I ask about the celebrities you worked for? Do I know them?” He asked.

“The celebrities I worked for are all dead now.” His voice was cold and detached when he answered him. “A car crash took one and an unfortunate fall killed another. All tragic accidents, the papers said. I always wonder if that’s true. You’ll be surprised how easy it is to make a murder look like an accident. Well, it’s impossible to know what really happened because they’re all five feet underground.”

He shrugged and then changed the subject. “But that’s neither here nor there. This is about you and your dream to become an actor. It’s okay to reach for the stars but there’s no shortcut you can take. My little angel isn’t a tool you can use to forward your career. If the only thing you’re interested in is Lucy’s name, you’ll get nowhere in this world. I’ll make sure of it.”

Hyde twirled his fork around his finger again. This time, he let it fly towards the boy. He missed him but he threw it with enough force that the dull fork stabbed through the drywall. With a fake smile, Hyde stood and said: “Oh, how clumsy of me! I dropped my fork. I hope that didn’t scare you. Don’t worry, if I was trying to hit you, I would’ve.”

“Oh, really?” Hyde stiffened slightly when he heard Licht’s voice behind him. He slowly turned around and he gave her an apologetic smile. She was holding two plates of deserts in her hands but her glare told him she wanted to spill the food on him. Licht didn’t turn her anger against him though. She kicked the table and sent it flying.

“How dare you try to play with an angel’s heart? Lucy deserves the world, not your halfhearted ass. Get out of my house and never talk to Lucy again!” She yelled and stabbed her finger towards the boy. No matter how protective Hyde could become, Licht would always be more so.

In the next room, Lucy heard a loud crash and breaking dishes. She looked from the door to Gil. Then she laughed and leaned against the kitchen island. “Well, there goes another one. My parents are so dramatic, Uncle Gil!”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.” Gil cut another slice of pie and slid it onto her plate.

RIP anyone who hurts their little girl.

[loveinthebones]

Oz Vessalius (for the characters meme)

Hello, hello! You are hitting me in one of my soft spots with Oz. XD Here we go!

Favorite thing about them: I actually really like Oz as a protagonist? That sounds really strange but he is interesting… He’s dynamic and he may start off with that carefree, seemingly naïve persona but he’s starting to drop it and taking steps forward to accept all sides of himself- even those that may be unsavory. I also appreciate his tendency to flirt. XD

Least favorite thing about them: I know it’s a part of his growth but Oz’s tendency to internalize his feelings and just accept things sometimes irks me and that he is a bit oblivious to Alice and her feelings. I don’t really find any ‘flaws’that aren’t meant to be flaws honestly and I am already endeared to him because I may relate just a little too strongly.

Favorite line: “If… the moment I recognize my ‘weakness’…is where my strength ‘begins’…can I still…keep going forward from now on, I wonder? Even with all these mixed up feelings inside of me? Still… I don’t want to hang my head with shame in this light.”

Or: “Perhaps Break is a lot weaker than I always thought he was. However, I’m sure that he’s a whole lot stronger than he thinks he is.” I have a weakness and I am (not) sorry.

BrOTP: Break/Oz, Oz/Leo, and… this pains me to admit: Elliot/Oz is growing on me, but the Book Trio definitely makes me happy.

OTP: Alice/Oz,Oz/Sharon, and if they were still closer in age, I would say Gil/Oz but they are not, so, only in fanfiction where they are close in age. XD

nOTP: I mean, Oz is fifteen (if I remember correctly) so anyone who is over eighteen.

Random Headcanon: This is based on some chapter cover art but I headcanon that Oz can play violin. He might be a rusty since he abandoned his practice to study literature so he could win his father’s approval but he did learn and loved it. He and Gil used to have silly little duets together when they were younger with Oz playing his violin and Gil accompanying him on the flute.

Unpopular opinion: I haven’t ventured into the tag (It’s a rule I have: I won’t go into the tag until I finish at least one medium) so I’m not sure what an unpopular opinion would be- but maybe it’s the fact that I do not really care for Elliot because of his speech to Oz? I understand that he is a tough love type of person but it genuinely rubbed me the wrong way. I’m slowly warming up to him but eh (this has more to do with Elliot than Oz but he’s involved so I’m cheating. XD)

Song Iassociate with him: I Was Human (English Cover)- Rachie

Favorite picture of them: From the ones I took on my blog, I definitely have to say either this (because blushy Oz) or this one lmao

Thank you for the ask. I hope you have a lovely day/night!

[annewithagee]

More than Pride vol. I (3)

She was a mistress of her own fate, ready to curve her own future. She was a fighter, refusing to give in to her own, cruel demons. And no one could take it away from her, not anymore, neither with words or deeds, because right now she felt strong enough to stand up for herself.

If only Gilbert Blythe didn’t spoil it with his jokes.

Shirbert, Anne with an E versed. AO3 / fanfiction.net

Chapter 3 I just wish we weren’t paired

Anne kept staring at her teacher long after the latter had finished her announcement, shocked, dumbfounded and in the general state of utter disbelief.

"You are paired with Gilbert Blythe."

Oh, why was she even surprised? Of course she was paired with him.

"And you talk of having bad luck," Anne murmured under her breath even though – or maybe, because – she well knew Diana could not hear her among the confusion that had suddenly arose in the room. She didn't bother to repeat her statement when the latter gave her a curious look or mumbled an absent-minded "Sorry?", instead waving her hand dismissively and just shaking her head. She really didn't feel like dwelling on the topic; especially seeing that Diana's mind was already set on the task at hand.

Anne couldn't help but think how fortunate it was that she happened to be sitting by the window for once. If she had not, she would have been expected to leave her place and join Gilbert by his desk, which obviously meant having to cross the whole room on yet another walk of shame. In her mind she might have known that she had no reason to be ashamed this time and that if some people had problems with her entirely accidental cooperation with said boy, it was their problems, not hers – but in her soul and heart she still felt the pang of anxiety at the thought that this accidental occurrence could still affect her relations with others.

She was too preoccupied with that problem to think of that it could affect her relationship with Gilbert himself, too.

What mattered now was that she had at least been spared the staring that would have undoubtedly been her share had she been forced to leave the reasonably safe haven of her seat. She didn't have to go anywhere. She would sit, and she would wait, gazing at the fields outside, humbly hoping that Ruby would not make too much fuss over the adverse events of today.

"Is this seat taken?"

Anne rolled her eyes but decided not to fight the smile that involuntarily appeared on her face.

"You know it's not," she answered with mock hostility, deciding not to look at the boy unless it was absolutely necessary. She heard him hum in amusement and rolled her eyes again, imagining the lopsided grin that certainly bloomed on his face. "And you better take it before I ask Miss Stacy to let me work alone."

Gilbert wisely refrained from a comment for the time being, focusing on placing his writing equipment on Diana's desk instead.

"I'm sorry you're stuck with me on this," he whispered when he was securely seated on the bench; Anne glanced at him, surprised with the genuine, almost apologetic tone of his voice. "For your sake. I can't say the same for myself."

"Why would you say that?" she asked, abashed.

"Well, your reaction wasn't exactly... enthusiastic," he explained patiently before letting out a small chuckle. "Your eyes grew so big, I thought you might get up and run away on the spot."

"That's not what – I didn't mean to – oh, stop it, Gil!" Anne stuttered in response, silently cursing her sudden inability to create a coherent sentence. She was confused enough as she was; Gilbert's idiotic grin was of no help to her. "Stop smiling at me like this! And stop mocking me. I was surprised, that's all – and you should know I don't run away just because I'm a little distressed. Not anymore, anyway."

"Yeah. Anyway."

Anne was saved from answering that vague, seemingly meaningless statement that for some reason had made her smile grow wide, when Miss Stacy tapped on her own desk. She fixed her gaze on her teacher at once, although she couldn't help but glance at Gilbert beforehand; his mouth was twitching into a soft smile again.

Somehow, it was nice to think there were memories only the two of them shared.

"Alright class, I want you to listen to me carefully," Miss Stacy proceeded. "I'm going to give you copies of Lord Tennyson's poem, one copy for a pair. You are to read it together, quietly, and then try to interpret it in the best way you can. The trick is however, you are not supposed to plan it."

"How can we write anything good if we can't think it over first?" came Josie Pye's indispensable remark.

Once again, Miss Stacy only smiled. "You are more than welcome to think it over, my dear. What I don't want you to do is to discuss it with your partner, for that would spoil the very sense of this exercise. Now, if you'd just let me finish, I think I could explain it to you quite clearly."

Josie fell silent. The rest of the class remained the same.

"To sum it up shortly," the teacher picked up after the pause. "Instead of discussing the plan of action, I want you to take action from the start. There is a piece of blank paper attached to each of the copies you'll get. Your task is to write down your thoughts by turns, sentence by sentence, all while trying to keep the final text consistent both by the means of structure and content. As I said, you may talk – but I highly advise you do not. Do you have any questions at this point?"

Murmurs echoed in the classroom. A hand was raised.

"Are we all going to read the same poem?" the perfectly practical Jane Andrews inquired.

"What will the poem be?" the hopelessly romantic Anne Shirley-Cuthbert breathed.

If by looking at Ruby Diana could have assumed that the former would fall of the bench, Gilbert had every right to believe the same scenario would come true for Anne.

Just mere minutes earlier she'd been as calm as a sphinx, determined to prove her friends that her assignment did anything but pleased her. Right now she was excited beyond belief, waiting for her teacher's answer as if she'd been awaiting a sentence on her life. Her eyes seemed even bigger now, shining with joy and hope, even though even she didn't quite knew what it was she was hoping for. She pursed her parted lips and swallowed nervously.

Gilbert let his smile widen at the sight.

"You will all read the same poem, yes," Miss Stacy confirmed simultaneously. "And it’s the Song from the Marriage of Geraint."

"Idylls of the King." Anne muttered in excited whisper as she followed her teacher with her gaze. She took two of the sheets Miss Stacy gave them and passed the rest to the students sitting behind her. "Oh, Gilbert, isn't this thrilling?"

"I suppose it is for someone who cares for Lord Tennyson as much as you do," the boy answered with a grin. "I'm guessing you know this particular work as well?"

"Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel..." Anne nearly sang to him. She would have laughed too, had they not been sitting feet away from where Miss Stacy stood.

Gilbert shook his head. "Is there any poem you haven't learnt by heart yet?"

"Quite a few, actually. But I'm doing my best to reduce the number – and as you said, I care for Lord Tennyson a great deal indeed. I hadn't even heard of him before coming to Green Gables and reading him for school, but oh, it was worth to wait for poetry of this sort."

"I only hope I will manage to keep up with your enthusiasm for him during this exercise. Don't hate me for saying this, Anne, but Lord Tennyson is not a favourite poet of mine."

"Oh, well," Anne gasped, a little disappointed. "Well, I still trust you will work fairly on this, and as long as you do, I'm sure we'll be alright."

"Again, I'm sorry you have to work with me."

It was her turn to shake her head.

"I've never said I didn't want to work with you," she said. "I just wish we weren't paired."

"Why then?" Gilbert asked, surprised.

"Because I tend to care about what other people think of me too much."

Gilbert let the subject drop, deciding to focus his attention on the poem in front of him that he still needed to read. Despite her knowledge of it, Anne kept glancing over his shoulder, her gaze shifting between the sheet and his face as she tried to determine how far into the poem he was and completely oblivious to the distraction she thus caused. Luckily for them, the poem wasn't long and even with Anne leaning so closely Gilbert eventually managed to finish his reading.

"Alright, I'm ready," he announced with a barely audible sigh of relief. "I say – ladies first?"

The girl by his side nodded eagerly and began to work immediately. Contrary to their doubts and fear, the cooperation was going smoothly for them – just as it always is when two young clever minds set of towards a mutual goal, striving to achieve the best of results. They could not refrain from a little competition, excelling one another in spot-on remarks and ideas that were just a little too far-fetched, but at the same time bearing in minds the main aim of their task and trying to make the essay coherent.

By the end of the lesson the sheet seemed to be flying from one end of the desk to the other and before they knew it, they had come to their conclusion. Anne froze, surprised.

"Anne? You're alright?" she heard Gilbert ask as she stared at the paper, her hand and pen hovering above it.

"Is that it?" she whispered in lieu of an answer, her gaze not leaving the sheet for a moment. "Are we really done already?"

Her companion laughed shortly. "I think we almost are. But I can see you still have something to add, and since you were the one to write the first sentence of this masterpiece I believe it's only fair if I write the last one. We do that and we're done."

"Well, I suppose I need a moment to think it through," she responded a little sheepishly. "The last words of the text are always the ones that matter most, so I can't write some nonsense as I did before."

"I don't think you've written any nonsense so far, Anne."

"Even if I didn't, these last lines still ought to stand out somehow. Please, just give me a moment and I'll certainly manage to come up with something."

"I have no doubt that you will," Gilbert answered a little too dreamily for his own liking; he cracked a grin at her after. "Just please make sure you don't ponder for too long, I'd actually like to have supper tonight.

Anne huffed and fixed her gaze on their essay. Her mind was working rapidly, suggesting dozens of ideas, all of them suitable for the ending of the essay – and none that could possibly be squeezed into a single sentence. Her eyes flickered towards the text of the poem, too dear to her heart not to be read again. So she did, and she smiled, feeling the warmth and passion, and hope that seemed to radiate from the black verses of words.

"Smile and we smile, the lords of many lands; Frown and we smile, the lords of our own hands..."

Yes, she was that. A mistress of her own fate, ready to curve her own future. And no one could take it away from her, not anymore, neither with words or deeds, because right now she felt strong enough to stand up for herself. She would not disregard Ruby's looks or feelings but she would not let the ungrounded sense of guilt dictate her life, either. She would not feel ashamed of what and who she was. And, most of all she would not -

"Hey, carrots."

All of her sudden confidence dissolved into thin air as soon as she heard Gilbert's words.

"What did you call me?" she asked, turning slowly towards him, her eyes wide with disbelief. The boy gave her an apologetic smile that suddenly felt so awfully fake, even though she couldn't quite point out the reason why.

All of her musing, each and every of her recent resolutions seemed to be crumbling down, spoilt so recklessly by his untimely comment. All at once she felt a sting go right into her vulnerable heart, bringing back the memories she'd been trying so hard to repress, unable to stop the merciless train of thoughts that ran through her mind against her will, against her doubts, against her better judgement.

"I'm sorry, Anne, but I called your name twice before and you didn't react. You know I meant no harm."

She knew she should not have felt offended by his words. She knew that for him it was just a mere joke, a way to catch her attention, just like it had been all those months ago. But at the same time, she could not ignore the memories the words brought to her and how much harm they truly did.

Carrots.

Red-head.

Witch.

And it hurt almost physically to think that he was the one person who didn't realise that.

In a second her focus was on their shared paper again, as she scribbled the first thing that came to her mind, only half caring whether it was good enough for Miss Stacy's standards. She didn't care about Gilbert's astonished glare, either, nor for the words that came from him after the first moment of stupor. And yet, he kept talking.

"For heaven's sake, Anne, what's wrong?" he asked, bewildered. She didn't grace him with a response. "You can't possibly be mad for that silly nickname, can you? You were miles away and I needed to bring you back before Miss Stacy would notice – I never would have done it otherwise. And you know I didn't mean to insult you. Please, just look at me and I promise I will never -"

"Miss Stacy, we're done!" was all Anne cared to say. She was standing now, turned towards the back of the room where their teacher was checking the progress made by her friends. "Should we leave it on your desk or -"

"Anne, what are you doing?" Gilbert hissed from his seat, completely taken aback by her actions. "We haven't finished, I still need to write my part!"

"Just lay it on your own desk and I will collect it. I'll be there in a minute, so you just wait, dear," Miss Stacy answered almost simultaneously.

Anne felt that just this once, she could not follow her beloved schoolmarm's request so easily.

"Oh, yes, but I was wondering..." she tried again, trying for all her might to keep her voice even and calm. "It has just occurred to me that I should be back at Green Gables as soon as I can today, and since you said this assignment is the last of our tasks for today I hoped I could go home at once – if only that's alright with you, of course."

"In such case, I don't see why you should not go," Miss Stacy admitted; she sounded a little reluctant but Anne could not bring herself to pay any mind to it right now. "Although I would like to discuss your working process with you as soon as I can – so please make sure to come to school a few minutes early on Monday, will you?"

"Of course."

"And I am going to give you some more reading for the weekend so it is up to you to learn what it is from your friends."

"I will."

"You may go, then" the teacher waved her hand and smiled before returning to the pair she'd been helping before.

Anne wasted no time and began to pack immediately.

"Anne, slow down a little," Gilbert pleaded once again. He tried to stop her by grabbing her hand but she yanked it away furiously. "I'm sorry, I had no idea it would annoy you so much."

"Annoy me?" she echoed flatly.

"I didn't want to distress you," Gilbert went on stubbornly. "And I really am sorry. Weren't you one to say that an apology can go a long way?"

"Only if you mean it," she retorted mercilessly and straightened up even more. "Now if you'd be so kind and let me through, I have more duties to attend to and I can't do it with you blocking my way out."

Gilbert did as he was told, not finding the strength to oppose her any longer. Anne stormed past him without a second thought and marched across the classroom, grabbing her hat and almost slamming the door behind her.

There were no broken slates, no shouts or outbursts.

No temper had been lost.

Only a miserable girl of fifteen, with a crack in her heart and tears in her eyes, that somehow stung more than ever before.

[bowiebond]

Gil x Fem!Reader - Hurts Like Hell, Darling

Requested: Nope, I just love angst, soulmate AU’s and Gil. I wanted to make this into a edit with the song Hurts Like Hell, just then I realised I can’t :(

Warning: ANGST

~~~ You had always sought out wonder. Your mother, Wendy Darling, always remarked on how alike you were to her when she was young.

As a child, your most recurring memory had been a simple one.

A beach. Sand like white gold between your toes, wind caressing your (h/c) locks and yellow sun dress; ocean blue and vast and the Isle always on the edge the sky like the island would fall off the edge of the earth at any moment.

Lastly, a red string. Tied tight around your forefinger that you would use to point out at the ocean that drowned the line of red thread. That’s where you met your best friend, a honey brown haired boy with observant hazel green eyes. He would come up to the shore and sit by you, both of your parents chatting amongst themselves.

He called himself Ben, Ben Florian. Politely, just as your mother had taught, you replied that you were (Y/N) (L/N). Back then, you had simply been two little children looking out into the ocean for answers to who they would spend their life with.

Questioning why your soulmates, your other halves, were so painfully far away when you were supposed to have fairy-tale lives.

~~~ At sixteen years old, you met Mal, Evie, Carlos and Jay. The most children of the most notorious villains. It was disheartening, yet at the same time, uplifting, to see Mal and Ben come together. To watch Jay and Lonnie dance around each other in a game of cat and mouse. To observe the blossoming love between Evie and Doug.

Even Carlos, who was born without a thread, seemed to find love in the form of a clumsy blue fairy who was also thread-less. They also shyly stepped around each other, Carlos trying to love a girl who was too oblivious. You hoped that they both had a happily ever after.

You had hoped that maybe one of the Isle kids that came along would be your soulmate, but you only got the bitter taste of disappointment.

At the end of the day, you did as you always did. You looked out your window, finger twirling around the red string absentmindedly and imagined what your soulmate would be like.

Who knew that Mal’s disappearance would give you the chance to find out.

~~~ Gil sat on the edge of the island he called his home, swaying legs dangling over the ledge as he stared out at Auradon. He looked down at his lap, smiling wistfully at the red string wrapped around his pointer finger as he pinched it between his fingers delicately. He can’t remember when this tradition started, but he knew he had been doing it ever since he was a young Isle boy trying to fit into his older brother’s shoes.

Gazing out at the future the string had promised him. A girl from Auradon. Maybe even a princess of his own he had been told about by rueful villains and disgruntled old hags. The idea made his chest swell with pride. Though he didn’t know her name, nor her face, he knew she’d be perfect for him.

Hopefully he’d be able to know soon, because at this rate, he’d never meet her.

“Gil!” Harry snapped Gil out of his trance, pulling the boy back up to stand. Harry’s red string was vibrant with connection, having already found his soulmate. The ruthless Captain and chilling first mate. It suited Uma and Harry.

“Seriously, out ‘ere again?” Harry rolled his black lined eyes, shaking his head in disappointment.

“I like it here. It makes me feel closer to her.” Gil smiled softly, brown eyes warm even as he took in the staggering distance between him and her.

“Give it up, Gilly. It’s for yer own good.” Harry waved away Gil’s fantasies with his hook. “It will lead ta nothin’ worthwhile, that’s for sure. Good just doesn’t love evil, Gils.” Harry said simply, though he did genuinely feel sorry for his friend. He’d be out of his mind more than he already was if he had never found Uma.

“Alright…Alright.” Gil sighed softly, taking one last look of longing toward Auradon before following Harry into the chaos of the Isle.

~~~ Gil was walking around the markets aimlessly. It was a usual occurrence for him. It’s not like big things happened on the Isle often anyway. The most fun Gil had in a week was poker with Gonzo and Jonas and arm wrestling with Lazar and Hans Jr.

Gil stumbled in surprise when a tug pulled on his finger. He spun around, expecting a random isle kid to be trying to snag one of his rings, but instead he found his string thrumming with a more vibrant red. He snatched the end and let it pass through his fingers as he followed it slowly. His eyes flickered about to every corner and hidey hole he could think of, which was a lot on a dreary place like the Isle of the Lost.

Gil’s heart jackhammered in his chest when his gut told him he was getting closer. He almost had her. His Auradon soulmate.

~~~ You huddled into yourself as you walked around the Isle streets, your dusty yellow leather outfit feeling tighter than it was in your anxious state. You’re on the Isle for ten minutes top and you’ve already lost your friends. Just great!

You felt a tug on your fingers and your heartrate skyrocketed just as you bumped into a broad man. You stuttered out a quick apology, stepping back in fear before you saw his face. He was handsome, with a boyish smile and golden curls, outfit dirty but flattering on his muscular body.

“I found you!” He broke out into a grin, making him look much younger than he had originally appeared. His words registered into your mind and you felt the air suck out of your lungs.

“You’re…”

“I’m Gil, your soulmate. I’ve been waiting for you since I was a kid, I’m so glad you’re here!” Gil said giddily, wrapping you in a strong hug without warning. You groaned in pain as his crushing grip and he instantly let you go. “Sorry. I’m just – I’m so excited. I never thought I’d meet you.”

“Me…Me either.” You breathed, looking up at him in awe. He was perfect, practically bursting with good vibes. “I’m (Y/N).” You put your hand out, the one wrapped in thread and he took it in his own. Instead of shaking, he bent down and placed a kiss on the soft skin of your hand.

“You’re a princess, right? I had always imagined what you’d be like.” He looked over your leather jacket and denim jeans. “Not exactly what I expected, but I like it.” He grinned, accepting the rough disguise with ease.

“I…I’m not a princess. Not really.” You licked your bottom lip nervously. “I’m just an ordinary girl from Auradon.”

“Either way, you’re very pretty.” Gil’s brown eyes were alight with happiness as he took in your features. Your cheeks heated at the compliment.

“You know, we don’t exactly know anything about each other, Gil. So…let’s start there, while I look for my friends?” Who were you to deny yourself a chance to get to know your soulmate?

“Oh, well, I really like eggs.” Gil hummed, one finger up as he began listing things. “I was raised a hunter, but I wasn’t very good at it, so my dad dropped me. I never finished Dragon Hall either, so I’m more strength than brains according to Uma.” You laughed, shaking your head in amusement.

“You’re very literal, huh?” You giggled. “Well, seeing as you told me a few things, I’ll tell you some things about myself too.” You looped your arm into his with a natural ease that almost surprised you. No wonder they were soulmates. They fit together like cream and jam. You began to walk with him as you spoken. “I was born in London but raised in Auradon. I spent most of my childhood by the shore of the coast. Searching for you.” You admitted with a giddy smile, leaning more into him. “My best friend happens to be the famous King Ben, and his lady, Mal, is the reason we met in the first place. He was also looking for her.”

“Wow, you know the King? Crazy. My dad hates the kid’s dad. Something about being a burly beast and wishing he had offed him when he had the chance.” Gil shrugged, throwing the comment aside. You paused, body freezing.

“Gil…If you aren’t a hunter, what do you do now?” You asked quietly.

“Huh?” He looked down at you curiously. “I’m a pirate, second mate actually. I know, I know, not what you’d expect of the son of Gaston. I get it all the time.” Gil waved his hand in front of him like it was nothing, but to you it was everything.

A son of Gaston and a pirate? You had been raised on the idea of pirates being brutes, cold and ruthless with nasty breath and pointy swords. Yet Gil was nothing like that. He was smiley and goofy, adorably honest too. To think you was a Gaston. Gaston was vain and brutish and cocky, yet Gil seemed the complete opposite.

You had to go. You had to find Ben and get Mal and go home. What would your mother think if she knew your soulmate was a pirate? What would Ben think if he knew your other half was a Gaston?

“I…I have to go.” You slipped your arm out from around his, backing away hesitantly, unsure of where exactly to go on an island you had no map to. “I’m sorry.” You turned onto the toe of your boot to make a run for it, but Gil grabbed your wrist before you could leave.

“Wait! Please, don’t go.” Gil begged. “I’ve always dreamed of meeting my soulmate. Of proving everyone who said you’d never come for me wrong.” Your heart fell through to your stomach, making you feel sick at the idea of pulling away from him. Gil slipped his hands off your wrist to cup your hand instead, kissing the uncovered flesh with warm lips. “Stay with me. Please.”

You swallowed thickly, biting your lower lip as you blinked back tears. You pulled your hand away from his, red string be damned.

“I can’t love a Gaston…Let alone a pirate.” You whispered, disappearing into the darkness of the Isle with soft thuds of boots hitting concrete and dirt. Gil’s heart plummeted in his chest, watching you go.

~~~ Gil walked around the markets slowly, dragging his feet sadly as he thought of your words, mulling them over in his head. It hurt every time he thought of it. “Sorry.” He said when he bumped shoulders with another, looking up. “Evie? Carlos? Jay? What’re you doing here?”

“Uh…”

“Come on, you remember me, right? Here’s a hint, my dads quick, he’s slick, and his neck is…” He gestured to his neck. “Incredibly thick?” He wanted to say it with more pep, but remembering his lineage wasn’t helping his mood right then.

“Gil. It’s nice to see you again…” Evie greeted tensely. Gil turned to the other guy with them, one he felt was vaguely familiar.

“Who’s this?” He looked at the brown-haired guy and noticed the yellow of a poster on the wall. He looked between the new guy and the poster, it clicking in his head suddenly. “You’re King Ben!” Gil said loudly. “Oh my god, you’re – you’re the king – “

“We have to go.” Evie pushed Ben ahead of her, Carlos and Jay following behind her on quick feet.

“Wait, you guys…” Gil frowned before he realised Uma would love this. “I’ve gotta tell Uma!” He jumped up happily, recent woes shoved aside as he raced to the fish and chip shop.

~~~ “Mal, Evie, Carlos, Jay!” You called in relief as you ran up to them. “I’ve been looking for you guys everywhere. Where’s Ben?”

“He’s gone.” Mal huffed. “Uma took him.” Mal’s eyes glowed a fierce green.

“Uma?” You questioned in confusion.

“She’s the daughter of Ursula. She now runs her own pirate crew on the Isle with Harry Hook and Gil LeGume.” Evie explained, sighing.

“Gil LeGume…?” You breathed in shock.

“One of three sons of Gaston.” Carlos filled in. You let out a shuddered breath, sadness coiling in your chest.

Gil was really a pirate it seemed…It was just never meant to be.

~~~ It was hard to look at Gil, his crestfallen face, so you avoided looking at him at all. You simply stood behind Evie and Jay, eyes glued to Ben. Your heart pounded in your chest, breathing shallowly in anticipation. You would get Ben back. Mal had this. Once you had him, you could go…It sounded easier said than done when your eyes connected with Gil by accident.

You swallowed thickly, casting your gaze down to your feet in guilt. Suddenly, your string tugged on your finger.

“No, not right now…” You cursed under your breath as Harry led Ben over to them for the trade. Suddenly, like a hard pull of a rope, you were tugged in the direction of Gil just as he was too. You tried to pull back, but Gil only got closer until you were inches apart between Uma and Mal, fingers touching from where the string had shrunken length wise.

It was quiet as they stared at each other in shock, hearts pounding. You looked away from Gil, trying to deny what was obvious when you saw Ben’s wide eyes.

“…Please don’t be mad at me…I didn’t mean for my soulmate to be a Gaston.” You begged, Gil’s fingers twitching to curl into yours. You couldn’t deny how good it felt to have him in your grasps. Ben shook his head.

“I’m no – “ “Enough!” Uma huffed, taking the wand as Ben was shoved into Mal. “It’s time to take down this blasted barrier.” She rose the wand high and chanted her own spell. When nothing happened, she yelled in fury, breaking the wand. Withdrawing her sword, the battle was on.

Harry pulled Gil from you roughly, growling at him. “Your soulmate just had to be a Darling, didn’t she?” Was all you heard before Carlos lead you away to Lonnie for a sword. You defended yourself against a girl in a loose grey and green outfit, blocking her attacks instead of lashing at her.

You jumped down the dock towards Ben who had been wrestled down by Gil, kicking Gil in the back.

“Leave him alone, Gil!” Gil turned around in surprise, not daring to raise his sword to you.

“(Y/N) – Woah!” Carlos swung under the rail of the dock above them and kicked Gil into the water below, cutting off your sentence.

“Gil!” You cried out, looking over the rail in horror. Was he okay? Could he even swim?

Gil’s head broke the surface with a gasp. Relief flooded your senses. A tanned hand grabbed your arm and you were dragged towards your escape by Jay.

“Come on, we gotta go!”

“Wait – Jay, let me go, please, let me say goodbye – “

“We don’t have time, (Y/N)!” Jay snapped, and you shut your lips. Looking back, you saw Gil climb back onto the dock, wet hair curling around his face as he looked at you.

An explosion of purple blocked him from view as the darkness of the tunnel enveloped you.

“GIL!”

~~~ Gil can’t remember running his fast in his entire life. All he knew was that he had to get to her before she disappeared for good. He couldn’t let the best thing in his life, even if it was a few minutes, escape him.

He didn’t want to lose his soulmate.

Gil skidded to a stop as he got to the broken bridge of the Isle, fingers just brushing the limo’s back light as it drove across its magic bridge.

“(Y/N)! Don’t go!” He shouted despite his ragged breaths, staring out after his vanishing future.

You spun around in your seat, tears already in your eyes as you looked out the back window before Jay could stop you.

“GIL!” You pressed your stringed hand against the window, finishing you could reach out and touch him. You cried out in pain when the string suddenly pulled taunt and cut into your finger. Gil fell back onto his hind as he clutched his hand, the red thread tightening painfully.

Suddenly, the limo hits the barrier and the pressure eases on both their ends. The limo passes through and the thread severs.

“NO!” They both yelled, clutching their hands and the string that hung limply between their fingers.

“(Y/N) – “

You hit Jay, again and again as he tried to get you to sit back down and comfort you. Sobs wrecked your chest as Gil disappeared from sight, nails biting into the back seats just as your teeth did to your lower lip, trying to stifle your tears.

“Why did he have to be a villain?” You whispered brokenly, falling back into Jay in defeat.

~~~ It was like a hole in your chest, just getting bigger and bigger until it would swallow you whole. You knew the only thing that would fill that hole was Gil, but he wasn’t there anymore.

While everyone else was getting ready for Cotillion, you were hauled up in your room alone, curled into yourself as you touched the severed red thread delicately. Your tears had grown fewer since the limo, but they were still hot and painful as you took in what would once have been your future. It was now gone.

Forever. You would forever be without your other half. It was a cruel fate. What did you do to deserve this?

You jumped up from where you laid when the door opened, wiping your face clean of tears, but you probably still looked like a mess. Mal looked at you with pity, walking up to your bed to sit by you. She rubbed your back gently, and you threw yourself into the comfort of her arms to cry even harder. Your entire body shook as she squeezed you in a hug.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I could never…I could never imagine losing Ben like that.” Mal petted your hair soothingly and you hiccupped a sob.

“I’m never going to see him again. Even the universe thinks so.” You sniffled pitifully.

“…Jay promised to take me back to the Isle if I couldn’t stand to stay another day.” You looked up in shock.

“You’re leaving? What about Ben – I – I can’t let you break your soulmate bond with Ben, I just can’t – It hurts so much, Mal, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before –“

Mal cut your words short with a soft ‘shh’.

“No, no, I’m not leaving Ben. I don’t think I ever could.” Mal admitted, taking your hands into hers. “I just wanted you to know that…That offer extends to you as well. If you really can’t stand another day with Gil…Jay will take you back to the Isle.” You hugged Mal tightly.

“Thank you. Thank you, Mal, thank you so much…”

“Just…Stay for the Cotillion at least. Like a goodbye party.” Mal looked sorrowful at the idea of you leaving, but you knew she would understand.

“Okay... I promise, I’ll come.”

~~~ As everyone danced along the soaked floor of the deck, you found yourself staring out into the dark ocean to the Isle of the Lost. Looking down at your red string, you knew you would take up Jay’s offer.

You loved your friends, but you knew your life wouldn’t be whole without the Gaston.

As the ruffled top of your loose yellow dress swayed with the breeze, you knew what your decision was. Across the sea, Gil was watching the TV, fingering his snipped red string. He saw her in the corner of the screen staring out at the Isle and smiled, hope filling his chest that he’d see her again one day.

~~~ “Are you ready to go?” Jay asked solemnly as you packed your things. You swallowed down your doubts and nodded slowly.

“This…This is for Ben and the others. To help them understand.” How could you say any of this without breaking? You had to write it down instead.

Jay took the note carefully, like it was a prized jewel, and nodded silently.

“Okay. I’ll keep good care of it.” He pursed his lips. “Let’s go, shall we?”

“We shall.” You stepped around him, bag over his shoulders as you both snuck to the limos. Once you were inside, you watched as your home rolled away. All your memories were disappearing behind you, and you couldn’t help but shed a tear.

To have what the universe promised you, you had to leave behind your history. It seemed like a twisted fate. You fiddled with your red thread, remembering why you were doing all this. Jay parked the limo on the Isle and you opened the door, breathing it the polluted air with a sigh. You wiped away your tiny teardrop with a finger and turned to Jay who leant against the limo, arms crossed and expression filled with sadness.

“Thank you, Jay. Really.” You hesitantly hugged him around the middle, letting him hold you close in one final goodbye. His thumb stroked the back of your head, cheek pressed against the top of your head. He turned his head just a fraction to place a kiss there.

“Be safe.” He murmured. “And if he ever hurts you, I’ll beat the hell out of him.” You pulled out of Jay’s arms and smiled up at him.

“I know.” You pressed a kiss of gratitude against his cheek, stepping back from him. “Goodbye Jay.”

“(Y/N), look!” Jay said in shock and you looked down at your hand. Before their eyes, the red string grew and disappeared behind a corner, bursting a brilliant vibrant red as it connected once more.

“Gil.” You breathed in awe, jumping Jay in one last giddy hug before running off to follow the string. Your feet pattered against the cold concrete ground, splashing puddles as you went. As you rounded your sixth corner, you saw him.

“(Y/N)!” You ran to Gil, the length of the string disappearing as you got closer. You jumped into his arms, the hole in your chest bursting with joy when he swept you off your feet, spinning you around in his arms in the middle of the market place.

As he placed you down, it was like everything had fallen into place.

When he kissed you, your hands cupping his face, you felt like the princess he originally thought you were.

You felt like his Darling.

I loved, and I loved, and I lost you. And it hurt like hell.

[monsterhighgroup-blog1]

Deuce Gorgon

 Brandon Flynn  as Deuce Gorgon  {TAKEN}

is the son of the gorgon, Medusa. He likes to skateboard and is interested in cooking. He wears sunglasses to prevent turning other people to stone temporarily. He is in a relationship with Cleo de Nile. His pet is a rat named Perseus.

He is a gorgon, specifically the son of Medusa, and a student at Monster High. Deuce and his mother have a difficult relation, which he tries to make the best of and keeps out of his school life. His relation with his aunt Stheno and her daughter Viperine is a lot better, but they do not live in New Salem. Deuce is considered the hottest boy at Monster High as well as one of the most reliable and relaxed people to hang out with. Because of his personality, many are confused he is dating Cleo de Nile, a demanding and impulsive princess. However, it is these traits and their shared underlying troubles that makes them one of the finest couples at school. Other than being captain of several sport teams, most notably casketball, Deuce enjoys spending his available time on cooking. He is skilled at kitchen work, but not comfortable letting anyone know about it.

Age16

Birthday : March 5th

PetPerseus is my two-tailed rat named for an ancient Greek warrior mom knew. She doesn't think it's funny.

BFFs :  Clawd Wolf, Manny Taur 

Personality

Among his peers, Deuce Gorgon is widely regarded as friendly and outgoing. He is consistently very welcoming of newcomers, being friendly toward Frankie during her first days at school, and inviting Jackson Jekyll to sit with him and Heath at lunch on his first day at school, despite the boy's outcast status among the other monsters. These traits, combined with his confidence and easy-going nature, make Deuce one of the most popular monsters around Monster High. Additionally, Deuce loves sports and is one of the captains of the casketball team. He also loves cooking, but he tries to keep it a secret.[1] He is very loyal to his girlfriend Cleo de Nile and tolerates a lot of her bad behavior with patience and grace, showing himself to care deeply about her and doing all he can to make her happy. Because of his mother's affinity for ancient art, Deuce himself also has an affinity for sculpting.

Appearance

Deuce is tall, handsome and muscular, with green eyes that can turn people to stone (at least for a few hours) which is why he wears sunglasses. His scalp hair is actually scaly and green, and on top of his head are, depending on medium, six to nine snakes, forming a Mohawk (or a "snake-hawk", as Deuce calls it). He also has green scales on his bicep, though it's unclear if it is part of his natural skin or an added tattoo.

Relationships

Family

Deuce lives with his mother, Medusa Gorgon, in New Salem, although it appears they have a home on Petros Island in Greece too, which is where most of Deuce's family lives. There appears to be no father in Deuce's life. Furthermore, Deuce's relation with his mother is suggested to not be that good, most notably through Deuce's remark in "Ghouls Rule" that "family is complicated".

In the Monster High book series, Medusa's name is shortened to Maddy, so as not to attract unwanted attention.

Every summer vacation, Deuce and his mother travel to Greece to visit his aunts, Stheno and Euryale, the former of which Deuce often has a cook-off against, which may be where his love of cooking came from.[2]Viperine Gorgon is Stheno's daughter, thus making Deuce and Viperine cousins.

Friends

Deuce appears to be friends with Heath Burns in "New Ghoul @ School", and states in his diary that he has an amicable relationship with Clawdeen Wolf's brother Clawd, since they're both on "the team".[3] He makes friends with Jackson Jekyll during a game of pick-up casketball. He appears to be friends with Operetta in "Phantom of the Opry" and in the 'School's Out' diaries.

Even though Deuce seems to be friends with Heath Burns, he didn't hesitate in turning him into a stone in "New Ghoul @ School". When they're on the team, he also has Manny Taur as his friend. Typically in the doll diary of the doll logs profile bio in the back of the diary copies of dolls and at the back of the doll boxes, his BFFs or BFF's, also known as best friends forever are his girlfriend Cleo de Nile and Jackson Jekyll.

Pet

Deuce's pet is a two-tailed rat named Perseus, much to his mother's distaste.

In "Hiss-teria", we learn that when Deuce was young, he had a pet dragon named Smokey. Deuce was not in control of his powers, and accidentally turned Smokey to stone. Smokey is supposed to change back on the anniversary of the incident, although Deuce isn't sure which

Romance

Deuce is a popular boy, whose cool demeanor, sense of humor, good looks, and social skills easily earn him the attention of the female portion of the student body. Deuce is somewhat oblivious to this though, and himself humble in his romantic endeavors. He fell for Cleo de Nile when she was dating Clawd Wolf, and wouldn't ask her out while she was still attached to another. Word of his interest reached Cleo, whose relationship with Clawd was based on peer pressure, respect, and friendship, but not love. Cleo returned Deuce's interest, which was an additional motivation to Cleo and Clawd's imminent break-up.

Deuce and Cleo started dating only a day after the break-up Clawd Wolf's 'School's Out' diary and have been a steady couple ever since. This is mostly thanks to Deuce, who is patient towards Cleo's diva-like attitude and paranoia that Deuce would dump her for another. When asked by Operetta what he sees in her, he answered "she just brings out the best in me, you know. Makes me want to be a better Deuce." It states in C.A. Cupid's LS diary that Cleo and Deuce started dating on November 1st.

In "New Ghoul @ School", Deuce became Frankie Stein's first crush because he was nice to her and helped her when Heath Burns wouldn't stop his persistent and awkward flirting on his own. However, Frankie stopped viewing Deuce as a potential boyfriend the moment she found out that he was already dating Cleo, and even helped them get back together after she had accidentally made Cleo believe Deuce was cheating on her.

In "Hiss-teria", Deuce's suspicious behavior and Draculaura's misinterpretation of the things she saw led Cleo to erroneously believe he was cheating on her with Operetta. After a rather violent confrontation between the two, Operetta decided to steal Deuce from Cleo anyway to get back at her. However, Operetta discovered that Cleo's assessment on her and Deuce's compatibility was correct and she genuinely started to like him. When she made her move though, Deuce politely told her he already had a girlfriend and loved her very much. Touched by this, and aware of Cleo's paranoia, Operetta let go of her pursuit and offered to compose a song on Deuce's behalf in which he could express his feelings for Cleo.

In her 'Between Classes' diary, Rochelle Goyle wrote about her meeting Deuce when the two bumped into each other in the hallways of Monster High. Deuce was surprised to learn he couldn't turn gargoyles into stone and Rochelle fell in love with his beautiful green eyes. Though she knew he had a girlfriend and that she didn't stand a chance, she made sure to get to meet him in the days afterwards. One time even, she had Roux steal Deuce's casketball to lure him to her.

Deuce himself has expressed mild interest in Abbey Bominable, lowering his sunglasses to get a better look at her when she started her first day at Monster High in "Back-to-Ghoul". In "Terrifying Telephone", Frankie and Draculaura, and to a lesser extent Clawdeen and Cleo, thought Deuce was cheating on Cleo with Abbey. It turned out that Deuce was meeting with Abbey because she helped him create an ice rink in his backyard for a romantic surprise date with Cleo.

In the Monster High books, Melody Carver kissed Deuce to get back at Cleo for kissing Jackson Jekyll out of spite towards Melody. It is unknown if he really felt anything about this.

Deuce is also often consulted by his male friends when they have trouble with getting or keeping their relationships on track. Gil Webber talked with Deuce about his lies to Lagoona in "HooDoo You Like?", and Clawd Wolf has asked Deuce for help with Draculaura in "Hyde and Shriek" and his Sweet 1600 diary.

In the Generation 2 reboot in "Welcome to Monster High" when Cleo and Deuce first meet he accidentally petrified her. In a photo after Cleo is returned normal Deuce smiles guiltily at her while she is unimpressed. In the reboot Deuce is skinnier and shy and still attracted to Cleo. He helps her set up the first party and gives her credit though she doesn't thank him at all. Despite the coldness he asks her to join him in the photobooth in which she coldly complies. Cleo is indifferent until Deuce makes her laugh. During the battle with Moanica and the zomboys Deuce saves Cleo from a creeping Zomboy. She returns the favor when he is in danger and the two smile warmly at one another. At the end during Ari's big song, Deuce dances next to Cleo and they exchange interested looks.

[berrodarmstrong]

Coulda, Shoulda, Oda.

Comfort.

Oda had known far too much of it lately. Comfort and happiness. Granted, these were things she knew she deserved, having sought them through various goals over the years, but the bliss she had been enjoying lately was surreal and almost frightening. There was much work to do of course, and many dangers to face, but between her toils, training and tribulations she had been afforded moments that had made it all worth it. Sometimes it was an evening alone with some good reading material and a bowl of fruit. Sometimes it was an indulgence in new attire for her training and leisure. And other times...company was nice.

She laid awake in the near dead quiet of night, soothed by the sound of Autgar’s breathing. He was out cold, and with a warmth to her face, she concluded that he had every right to be. The pair of them laid lightly entwined after an evening of indulgence. She had provided him the privilege of accessing her without walls, without the exhausting headbutting that was simply a part of being born of the Highlands. In turn he had provided her with a genuine and honest companionship which she had not thought a man competent enough to provide. By no means was it a binding arrangement. The last thing she wanted to do was to be beholden to another in such permanence. Occasional appreciation was more than fine -- and she would be pleased if he agreed. Still, she appreciated him -- that much the walls of the small apartment had learned in repetition earlier during the night. Perhaps the neighbours as well, though she hoped not.

Such appreciation and the rest that came afterward were also beholden to a break -- and it was with that mindset that she carefully disentangled herself from the mild embrace in which they had fallen asleep -- an embrace that saw her shamelessly touching on occasion. She would return to that if she felt like it, but for the moment, she needed some air. As much as the...combined scent of them appealed to her baser sensitivities, a fresh lungful or two would be a blessing. Like silk she extracted herself, leaving the covers upon Autgar’s waist just as they’d been when she had been under them as well. A surprisingly mischievous urge danced across her mind for a moment and was promptly dismissed -- air. Air was priority.

The apartment was small, but comfortable; there were no walls to separate the sections of it. The tub, the bedding, the table, the kitchen and the clothing racks were all set into their corners. They’d put much work into making the place both neat and liveable. She’d even found a nice bit of fabric to cover the window shutters -- though the wooden door still needed some work. It was that same door that she exited from, bare as she was born -- without shame, but yet with discretion. There was no one around but the moon at that hour. The elevation served as well -- their apartment was on the second terrace of the structure -- and with the red stone wall providing a banister of sorts, there was not much to see from below but her head and shoulders.

A chill wind picked up and flung the long locks of her dark hair, leaving the ends of it snapping and whipping for a moment before they settled to fan down her back. It was in terrible need of combing, but that was something she would accomplish come the morn. The cold air did little more than amuse her -- considering how warm inside the apartment was...with good reason. The windows of the neighbours’ apartments were darkened, which for some reason provided a small comfort. In that moment, only she was allowed to exist under the pale silver of the moon. The world was hers, and she belonged to nothing but it, offered naked under the drizzling light -- rich with a bounty of her own thoughts and feelings. Perhaps her penchant for meditation had fostered an appreciation for such solitude within her. It was such a wonderful peace...a peace that she would fight for; a peace that she would risk her life for. There was no way she would allow the world to suffer what evil loomed after her homeland had just been liberated.

Perhaps her thoughts had summoned him -- she heard the door open behind her and experienced a moment of exasperation. As much as she enjoyed Autgar’s company, she still had a vast appreciation for alone time. Sometimes he seemed to understand that...other times he clearly remained oblivious. Nevertheless, she decided that she’d allow his intrusion and give him the gift of a world under silver moonlight. She heard his heavy steps and suddenly felt arms around her. His warmth was both comforting and oppressive; fueling her body’s enjoyment while irritating her mind’s appreciation for the cool night air. At first she set her hands on his forearms to provide a limit to his touch, then decided that he could perhaps appreciate a role as the throne upon which she would lounge and enjoy the night.

His chest trapped her her hair between the firm muscle and her own nigh solid back -- acceptable enough as a throne should be. His stubble grazed her ear and jawline, and again that simultaneous irritation and thrill rolled down her body. It was clear what he wanted from his body language, and she was well poised to deny him in favour of her communion with the night. He would have to wait until morning, when her own appetite rose again to the top of her priorities. Even if the press of his lips to her neck made her shudder. Damn him. Those same lips brushed her ear as he whispered to her.

“I always knew you’d amount to nothing more than a whore.”

The shock that shot through her was almost violently electric, to the point that she actually jerked involuntarily. That voice was not Autgar’s voice. It was --

-- her thoughts had no time to complete; her body had taken charge. A double elbow to drive him back, and a third pass of her left elbow toward his temple when she spun to face him. The former was executed with perfection -- but the latter...instead of a temple, her elbow struck a chin. The man she’d wish to strike had a somewhat disadvantage in height, but not the man before her.

It was Autgar. He stood there, just as bare as she, blue eyes filled with smug contempt and unsavoury appraisal. The expression was monstrous on him. Yet the voice that had escaped him was not Autgar’s at all. It was Gunnar’s. Oda’s stomach heaved without her consent -- had it been him? Had the night they’d spent together, the things they’d done, had it been...no. It could not have been. She would have felt it. Gunnar had a sickness in his soul that such intimacy would have been able to detect for certain. Certain...with that waver of doubt in the back of her mind.

That waver was not enough. Again she struck, right for his solar plexus with a closed fist, followed by a sharply lifted knee toward his left flank. Both landed hard enough to send him stumbling back to the doorway, where what vile magics he had employed to glamour himself dispelled. He remained bare -- but the drop in height, the silver eyes and grey hair -- those were unmistakable.

“This from the man who tries to put a child in every woman he dared put his hands on,” She spat, “I’ll not have my freedoms reproached by the likes of you. Why are you here?”

In the back of her mind, Oda felt that she should feel violated, being exposed to him as she was. Yet, such a thing was a paltry discomfort compared to the sheer danger she faced in his presence. The dead had no time for shame. The forefront of her thoughts scintillated with concern for Autgar, who she was barred from warning with that bastard in the way.

“What do I want…?” The old man hummed -- his voice incensed and disgusted her beyond what she thought was possible. How dare he use such a sweet, grandfatherly tone with her. “I want to remind you that your happiness is forfeit. Yes, yes, I saw you come out here smiling to yourself. It’s a wonder what a little soreness between your legs does for your personality. Yet still, dearest Oda...remember. You left my side, and so you are simply not allowed to enjoy it.”

“I’ll enjoy as I like, you --”

“He could be dead in there, he could not. I did have the most gripping urge to slit his throat, and in the ecstacy of it all, I can’t remember if I’d done it or not. Even if I did, there might still be time.”

The electric tension in her stance gave way to rigid ice. No…

If he was in there, dying, she had to save him. If she couldn’t -- if he was dead because she had the curse of Gunnar on her back…

Gunnar simpered, an expression which boiled that ice into steam through the fires of hatred. “You don’t really need him -- you know that, Oda. You can always find some other to swive you stupid. His sort is a gil a dozen. Though if, He is alive…”

“Get out of my way.”

She cared nothing for interrupting Gunnar. He had achieved a sudden, surprising irrelevance in light of the possibility that Autgar might be in there dead or dying. It seemed to shock the old man as well, given the slight crane of his neck. “Or else wh--”

Her fist collided with his neck in a silent, nigh blinding explosion of white. It was if she had taken the moonlight itself and harnessed it into a detonation of absolute quiet. She registered his head separating from his body -- she even registered the hard, mysteriously bloodless thud of his body and the cracking thump of his head...but all that was secondary to getting inside to make sure that Autgar was alive.

Given the size of the place it only took three steps...and there he was, covered to the waist, breathing lightly in his sleep as she stood shaking from head to toe. Wildly she swung her head to the door -- the head and body were gone. Outside was quiet. Moonlight drizzled in through the doorway, while warmth and the scent of a night’s intimacy rolled out.

Oda could barely get her hand around the door’s handle to shut it. She wanted to slam it, she wanted to scream. She wanted to punch a hole in the wall. He was right. In one simple exchange, Gunnar had taken it away from her.

Her comfort. Her happiness.

Yet, it was a temporary seizure, and she knew it. She and her allies were well on their way to ending him once and for all...and once that was done...she could settle back into comfort once more.

Oda padded to the bedding and grabbed her pillow. She set it on the ground next to Autgar’s side and sat upon it, crossed legged and vigilant. Yes, she would have her bliss back...

...and she would protect her chosen charge until she did.