#I did the OV one first so the shading on her hair is a different color than the other two and I couldn't change it so 🥲

[fentennyson]

Mini Charmcaster redraws

[aticklishpercivalwriter]

The Love that Travels and Lives on in the Wind - Chapter 4: Swept Away

Story Masterlist

A/N: As quick as the previous one, here’s another chapter. Idk what else to put in the author’s note but enjoy! 

Summary: Paimon guides Aether into Teyvat but an unexpected dragon makes an appearance. 

Word Count: 1594

—

Night passed quickly as it came. The birds chirped, awakening the two as they breathed in the smell of morning dew. 

“Ugh, not the most comfortable sleep I had,” Aether groaned as he stretched his back. 

“Yeah,” Paimon agreed, “Let’s head over to a Statue of the Seven.”

Aether packed up their stuff and followed her out into the open where a statue stood tall in the middle of the open area surrounded by crystal blue water. A city of windmills painted the background as cliffs jutted outward around the area. 

“That’s a Statue of the Seven!” Paimon pointed excitedly. “There are a few of these statues scattered across the land to show The Seven’s protection over the world. Among the seven gods, this god controls the wind. I’m not sure if the god you’re looking for is the Anemo God, but I’ll take you to their place first and there’s a reason why. Come on!” 

She waved her hand over beckoning him to follow. 

“You really think someone will know my sister,” he asked as he picked up a few berries along the way. 

“Yeah! Poetry and language flow like the wind, so there should be news about another golden haired person. At least, that’s what Paimon thinks. There’s the statue! You can swim across. I’ll meet you on the other side.”

“Hey! I don’t want to get wet! Carry me over!”

“Nuh uh. Not happening. You are way too heavy for Paimon!”

“Fine. But watch me jump over this moat without touching the water.”

“Okay, Paimon is watching. You won’t be able to make that though.”

“Watch me.”

He huffed in concentration as he rolled his shoulders and began a running start, gaining momentum and then jumped at the edge of the waterline. 

Paimon’s eyes widened in surprise as he was soaring across the water. He had a smirk of pride on his features and even the fish stopped to stare at him. 

Wait, what?

Splash!

The fish scattered as he fell into the water. He only made it halfway across and to add insult to injury, “Hahaha! What did I tell you?” Paimon laughed.

“cough cough. I forgot I didn’t have my powers,” he said, face flushed in embarrassment and from swimming the rest of the way. 

“Hehehe. Go over there,” she chuckled, pushing him toward the statue. “You will gain at least some of your power back.”

He walked the rest of the way and took a deep breath before placing a hand on the statue. The statue lit up as he gently lifted his hand off it and a piece of anemo power floated from the statue towards him. 

“Whoa,” he breathed softly as he absorbed the power. It flowed through his body as wisps of Anemo rose off his body. After a few seconds it faded and his clothes lit up a subtle shade of light blue. 

“Ooh! Did you just feel the power of Anemo?” Paimon asked, examining him from head to toe.

“Yeah, I did,” Aether spoke, looking over himself. “It feels familiar yet different.”

“Let’s keep heading west from here, we’ll eventually reach Monstadt, the City of Freedom.” 

“Okay, but this time I can definitely float over the water, just like you.” 

“I like to see you try.”

“Hmph, here goes.”

He jumped over the water and tried to rein in the power of Anemo that he remembered from way back when only to clumsily float over for a couple seconds and fall face flat onto the water. 

“Yikes,” Paimon hovered over where he fell. “You okay, buddy?”

He threw up a thumbs up, slowly sinking into the water before swimming the rest of the way across. 

“What happened there?” she asked seriously, not teasing him for the meantime. “I thought you had it.”

“It’s like I said, it feels the same but different at the same time. I guess I have to practice with it still,” he spoke dejectedly. “Lead the wa-what is that?”

Aether pointed towards the sky as what looked to be a dragon flew overhead towards the forest near the city. 

“Come on, let’s catch up to it!” Aether exclaimed, not waiting for a response from Paimon and rushing towards the dragon’s location. 

“Hey! You can’t just rush into potential danger like that! It’s a dragon! A dragon! Wait up for Paimon! You haven’t even mastered Anemo yet!” Paimon shouted trying to keep up.

They made it into the heart of the forest and hid behind a tree. A male figure was talking to the dragon. 

“...Don’t be afraid. It’s alright now, I’m back.”

“Is he talking… to a dragon?” Paimon questioned. Aether was about to respond before his chestplate glowed and emitted a ring. 

The dragon roared in anger and swiped at the male figure. He jumped back to avoid being hit and narrowed his eyes towards the sound. 

“Who’s there!?”

The figure made eye contact with Aether as the latter fell from the force of the roar. He got a good look of the figure taking note of his fair skin and aqua green eyes that had a hint of sadness and hurt, but mostly fear and bubbling rage. His short black-ish blue hair with short twin braids flew in the wind as he vanished into the wind. The tips of aqua blue braids were the last thing he saw of the figure. 

The dragon let out another roar making Paimon hold on to Aether’s hair to avoid being blown away. With one last look, the dragon took off. 

“You know that hurt you know,” Aether complained after they recovered from all the sudden events that happened in the past two minutes. 

“Sorry about that, but Paimon is like a small balloon,” she apologized. “But what just happened? That weirdo was talking to a dragon of all things.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure who that was. Look, the dragon left something behind.”

A shiny red thingy sat on the rock the dragon was on. 

“Huh, a Crimson Crystal. I have never seen anything like it before. It looks dangerous though, but perhaps useful in the future.”

“I’ll store it in my bag for now. Maybe that ‘weirdo’ knows a thing or two about it.”

I don’t think he is a weirdo though. Just someone who is close to losing something.

“Let’s go, Aether. The city is just over there.”

As they emerged from the forest, a voice yelled out. 

“Stop right there!”

Both of them froze and the figure jumped in front of them. 

“I am Amber, Outrider for the Knights of Favonius. You don’t look like citizens of Mondstadt. Explain yourselves!”

Paimon explained that Aether is a Traveler looking for his lost sister and she is guiding him all over Teyvat. They decided not to mention the mysterious man as Amber led the way into the city. 

“The city has been on edge lately as the dragon, Stormterror, has been coming closer and closer to the city,” Amber spoke, noticing the looks on Aether’s and Paimon’s faces. “Since you seem to be a seasoned adventurer, I have a present for you Traveler.”

“How come I don’t get one!?” Paimon exclaimed.

“Because it will be useless to you, Paimon. Follow me, both of you. You’ll see what I am talking about.”

They climbed to the high ground of the city and Aether and Paimon stared in awe at the statue and the view of the city. 

“Sightseeing is later you two!” Amber waved at them to follow her. 

“Here, Traveler. It’s a Wind Glider. You can use it to ride the wind.”

She handed it to him and he took it, thanking her while examining it.

“Thanks Amber, but why do you have to give one to me? I haven’t done anything yet.” Aether asked.

“Well,” Amber started. “Hearing your story about your lost sibling, I felt compelled to help you out and knowing you will be traveling to each of the seven nations, this is the least I could do. In addition to putting up missing person posters once the whole Stormterror situation is resolved. 

“Thank you for your help, Amber,” Aether smiled. “Now, show me how to use this thing!”

Amber demonstrated how to use it and made him try it out. 

“Paimon and I will be near the fountain. When you see us waving at you, you can glide over.”

They made their way down as Aether prepared himself. Amber waved at him and Paimon gave a thumbs up. 

“You got this, Aether!” Paimon shouted with a joyful smile on her face. 

“Coming down!” he yelled back. 

He made a running dash and engaged his wind glider, catching the wind and heading towards the fountain.

I can fly again, somewhat! 

He smiled in glee as he felt the wind sweep at his face. He was almost there until the wind grew stronger and dark gray clouds filled the sky. 

“What the?”

“Traveler! You have to retract the wind glider! There’s something wrong! It must be-”

Rawr!

“Aether! Hurry!”

“I’m trying! It’s stuck!”

He weaved through the air chaotically nearly hitting a few buildings. 

“Come on! Come on! Come on!! Can this get any worse!?” 

Suddenly, whirlwinds came out of nowhere and started tearing the ground apart as people fled screaming. 

“Oh crapcrapcrap!” 

He was heading towards a whirlwind as he struggled to disengage his wind glider. He didn’t see Paimon or Amber anywhere. 

“Just my luck. Oh crappp!” 

He was pulled into the whirlwind and swept away into the sky as a distant roar rocked the city.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

CH25- A Series Of Very Fortunate Events

Summary: It’s Fliss’ birthday and Frank pulls off the surprise of the century.

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 24

I dunno how you do what you do, I'm so in love with you, it just keeps getting better. I wanna spend the rest of my life, with you by my side, for ever and ever. Every little thing that you do, Baby I'm amazed by you

Fliss gave a start of surprise as two hands grabbed her waist and spun her round.  She laughed as a pair of bright blue eyes, sparkling with love and mischief, met hers, her hands sliding up their owner’s chest to his shoulders, as a warm palm pressed into her back, fingers splaying over the top of her thin camisole. “Happy birthday, Beautiful.” Frank grinned at her and she beamed back, her nails gently scratching at the nape of his neck, tangling in his short hair as he gently swayed them to the soft music which was playing through the speakers in the kitchen.

“Thank you, Sailor.” She smiled as his lips gently pressed to hers, a chuckle flowing from his mouth as he swayed his hips to the gentle rhythm of Otis Redding’s ‘(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay’. “You know, I had set my alarm a little bit earlier today ” He informed her, spinning them a little across the floor, “planned a little wakeup call plus breakfast in bed. So imagine my slight frustration when it went off and you were already gone.” “Sorry, but I woke up and,” she shrugged giving him an apologetic look, “you know once I’m awake I’m awake.” “I do.” Frank smirked, his hands on her hips gripped a bit tighter as he swayed his own along to the music. “Guess you’ll just have to wait for that particular present, Cowgirl.” She let out a laugh, the hand on his neck tightening a little in his hair as she pulled his head down to hers. “I love you.” “Love you too.” He whispered, his lips catching hers in a deep kiss, tongues sliding gently against one another before Frank pulled back, his forehead pressed to hers. “Can I at least make you breakfast?” “Sure but don’t you need to be getting ready for work?” “Nope.” He shook his head. “Booked the day off.” “Why?” “Well it’s a Friday and your birthday and I wanted to spend it with you.” He shrugged. “I know you’re working but thought I could finish the shelving and what not in the tack room and then we can get everything ready for the guys coming over.” Fliss beamed. “I’m so excited to show them the yard. I know it’s not fully finished but...” she sighed. “I’m really happy with how it’s turned out.” “And you should be.” Frank smiled, his hips swaying to the music. “You’ve put a lot of hard work in. I’m proud of you, Honey.” “We’ve put a lot of hard work in.” She smiled as he revolves them gently on the spot. “Couldn’t have done it without you and everyone else for that matter, Mum, Dad, Joanne, Steve...” “Well,” Frank grinned as he spun her out slightly, pulling her back into him, her back pressed to his chest, her giggle vibrating slightly into his body, “tonight we can fire up the grill as planned, thank everyone properly and have a few drinks to celebrate.” “Sounds good.” She sighed as his lips brushed her neck. “My last lesson finishes at two, I cut them early for the day.” “Perfect.” Frank gently nipped at her skin, his hands splaying over her belly, pulling her back into him. “And just think, this is your last birthday as a Gallagher. You’ll be Mrs. Adler next year.” “Two months.” She rolled her head to the side, allowing Frank to nuzzle into her even more. “I can’t wait.” “Me neither, Baby.” He whispered, his mouth now on her jawline. Eventually his lips found hers and he kissed her again, her head laying back against his shoulder as his right hand started trailing down further, and further, and his fingers had just worked their way into the waistband of her sleep shorts when a soft little whimper, followed by a louder garbled chatter chimed out from the baby monitor. Frank gave a groan, his head sagging forward and his hand moving back up to Fliss hip as she laughed a little, tilting her head to look at the screen where Alex was now pulling himself to a stand using the bars on his crib as leverage. “Cock block.” Frank grumbled as he shot the monitor a look and Fliss stepped out of his embrace, turning to face him. “I’ll go get him, you can start my birthday breakfast.” She smiled, standing on her tip toes to give him a gentle peck. As she padded out of the room, Frank watched her go, eyes firmly trained on her pert ass before he smirked to himself and turned to gather the ingredients for the waffles Fliss had shown him how to make. As he spooned out the flour into the bowl he heard Fliss greeting Alex good morning and their ten month old giving a garbled little response followed by a happy giggle, the one he always gave when he saw Fliss. “Momma’s boy.” Frank scoffed, picking up the baby monitor and pressing the intercom button alongside it. He heard Fliss laugh as she turned to the monitor, sticking her tongue out at the screen, knowing full well he could see and he chuckled, turning back to his task in hand. By the time she appeared after changing Alex’s diaper, Mary had surfaced, Fred hot on her heels, and the kitchen was full of the smell of waffles which sizzled away on the iron. Mary shot over to Fliss, wishing her a happy birthday before she placed Alex in his chair and Frank stepped over to give his son a kiss good morning. He smiled as Alex wound his small hands into his beard, giving a tug before he gently scruffed against the baby’s cheek causing him to shriek in delight. “Think I might try his cup again today.” Fliss pondered for a moment. “He didn’t want his milk after breakfast yesterday as he was full so Mum suggested offering it him alongside, he might be a bit more inclined to take it if he’s doing it himself, what do you think?” “Go for it.” Frank nodded, straightening up. “Don’t worry about it too much though, sweetheart. Mary dropped her morning bottle completely round the time she was his age. He’ll let us know if he’s hungry.” Satisfied with her choice, Fliss sliced up an apple and placed it down on Alex’s tray along with half a lightly toasted piece of bread and a sipping cup half full of formula. Alex immediately went for the apple, jamming it into his mouth making appreciative noises as Frank served their own breakfast of waffles, fruit and syrup up, handing a small piece of waffle to Alex. The baby paused, taking it with a cooing noise and proceeded to look from one hand to the other. “What’s it gonna be, pal?” Frank asked. “It’s a big decision. Apple or waffle?” “Bet you five bucks he goes for the waffle.” Mary grinned and Frank wrinkled his nose. “I dunno, he likes his apples.” “Yeah but waffles are much better.” Mary’s voice was muffled as she shoved a huge fork full into her own mouth and Fliss watched as Alex continued to ponder. In the end he raised both his hands to his mouth, attempting to shove the two items in at the same time. Fliss laughed and gently went to help him out, but no sooner had she done that, Alex had already realised it wasn’t going to work. His fingers still curled round precious apple slice, he dropped the hand holding it to his tray, using the other to shove the waffle piece straight into his mouth, chewing contentedly. “Told ya.” Mary smirked. The kitchen was full of laughter as they ate, and when they had finished and cleared the dishes, Frank and Mary disappeared upstairs coming back with a few gifts held in their arms. Fliss grinned as she took the one Mary handed her first. “That’s from me and Alex.” She nodded as Fliss kissed her cheek and tore off the sparkly blue wrapping paper, her smile growing even bigger as she saw the box which contained a radio mic along with ear pieces. “You said your old one was crap.” Mary grinned, ignoring the pointed look Frank shot at her for her use of the word. Fliss laughed. “Yeah it’s seen better days, everyone says I sound like a Dalek.” “A what?” Mary frowned. “Oh they’re an alien thing from a TV show called ‘Doctor Who’, they talk like broken robots.” Fliss waved her hand. “But this is great. Thank you!” “It’s fully charged and tested.” Mary grinned. “Dad had it on the other night in the garage fixing me a blow by blow description of how he was varnishing the boat. I stopped listening. “No wonder it’s taking you so long to finish.” Fliss smirked at him and Frank arched his brows. “The reason it’s taking me so long is because every spare moment I’ve had recently you’ve put me to work at the yard either building shelving units or painting.” He folded his arms. “You know, I could charge you a fortune.” “I pay you in other ways.” She winked and a Frank snorted as she reached for a smaller wrapped gift. She tore off the wrapper and Frank held his breath a little as she looked at the white leather box emblazoned with the logo of a company he knew she’d recognise. “Did you...” her eyes instantly misted over and Frank nodded as she opened the box with shaking hands. He watched as she studied the item inside before she picked it out to examine it in closer detail. It was a bracelet made out of the hair from Heidi’s tail, wound into a thick, chunky braid, the different shades of chestnut and dark brown perfectly woven together. The claw clasp was silver and there was a small silver horse shoe and heart shaped charms hanging from it, the latter engraved with the words ‘forever in my heart’. “Frank,” she stuttered and he gave her a smile. “You were talking about getting one, did I get the right style?” “Yeah.” She swallowed. “Oh, Sailor it’s perfect.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips, giving a little sniff as she pulled back. “Can you...?” She handed it to him and then held out her left hand arm and Frank opened the clasp, fastening it around her wrist. She looked at it for a moment before she smiled and wiped her eyes. With a little cough, Fliss cleared her throat as she reached for the final box which was a little bigger and when she opened that one she gave an excited shriek. “You got me a Pivo? How? These are like out of stock constantly!” Her hands trailed the box and she grinned, looking at Frank. “Lucky try.” He shrugged as Fliss opened the box to look at the starter pack. Not for the first time she was overcome with just how much Frank actually listened to the throwaway comments she made. She’d talked about getting one of the smart tracking systems you linked up to your phone for a while, it would make filming her videos for sales and the online blogging and tutorials that she had recently launched on the website so much easier. “Thank you, you’ve spoilt me.” Fliss beamed at Mary and Frank, before she turned to Alex to give him a kiss, and Frank glanced at Mary giving her a wink, both of them fully aware that the gift that was arriving later that afternoon was going to blow her mind.

***** Frank spent most of the morning putting up the shelves as promised, hanging the doors and whatever else he needed to do, whilst Alex was happily entertaining himself in his little pack and play, the air-con in the new large room a godsend as it gave some well needed relief from the sweltering late July heat. Bill and Verity arrived at midday with lunch from their favourite sandwich deli. Fliss beamed when she opened her gift from her parents which was a tripod for her new Pivo plus a year’s subscription to a new editing software app for her MacBook and iPhone. Once they had eaten, Verity offered to take Alex back to the house for his nap, leaving Bill and Frank free to head down to check that the new perimeter fencing had been done properly whilst Fliss carried on with her day's schedule, this time her, Joanne and Mary setting up the Pivo to film a little VLog for their YouTube channel that was linked to the stables. Then at just before two, Frank got the call he’d been waiting for, his big surprise was half an hour away. “I’m a little nervous.” Frank admitted as he and Bill walked back to the yard. “I mean, if she doesn’t like the damned thing when it arrives, I can’t exactly return it.” “Trust me, she’ll love her.” Bill shook his head. “If nothing but because it’s connected to Heidi and it’s something for her to start work with from the ground up. It’s what she’s always loved to do, and she does it well. As this all proves.” Bill waved his hand in the air, gesturing around the land and the various horses as Frank nodded. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.” He was on edge for the next fifteen or so minutes as he tried to concentrate on a little more painting, but then they heard the rumble of tyres as the truck pulling the transporter trailer wound slowly up the drive. Bill looked at Frank with a grin before he pulled out his phone, no doubt to message Verity, and Frank glanced over to see Fliss had straightened up from where she had been leaning over the laptop at her desk and frowned, her head tipping to one side as she glanced out of the window which overlooked the entrance. “Joanne?” She called and the girl appeared. “Did we book a new client in today that I forgot?” “Nope.” Joanne shook her head. “Who the hell is this then?” Fliss’ frown deepened as she turned and headed out of the room, Frank following with a very excited Mary. As they walked into the courtyard, Frank watched Fliss speaking to the driver as he opened the door and hopped out. He saw the shock register on her face and a small smile played on his own as she stood stock still, blinking at the man who handed her an envelope. With a frown she took it, turning to Frank who merely gave her a puzzled shrug, before she tore open the envelope and her eyes scanned the message inside which Frank had asked them to prepare. There was a delicious moment where Frank saw Fliss’ face washed blank with confusion, like her brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to take in the information from her wide eyes. Every muscle of her body just froze before a grin crept onto her face, it soon stretched from one side to the other showing every single tooth. This time when she looked at Frank, he smiled back, and she shook her head her own smile not faltering. “You did this?” She managed to stutter out as Bill chuckled, walking to the back of the large transporter to help the man with the ramp. “Well, I had help but yeah, I’ll take the credit for it being my idea.” He wrinkled his nose as Fliss gave a shriek and launched herself at him. Laughing he caught her as her legs wrapped around his waist and she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She whispered. “But how did you even know I’d been looking at her? I never-“ “Mary.” Frank said simply as her hands slid to cup his face. “You should know by now she never misses a thing.” “Hey, Titch, you gonna let go of Frankie boy for long enough to come meet her or what?” Bill called, and Mary nodded. “Yeah, hurry up Mom, I wanna see her!” Giving him another quick kiss, Fliss moved and Frank dropped her to the floor. She turned, sweeping Mary into a huge hug before she took her hand as they walked to the back of the trailer as the beautiful bay horse was led off. Amazement didn’t quite cover what Fliss was feeling at that point in time as she stood rooted to the spot, observing the animal who stood up tall and glanced round, snorting loudly at the strange surroundings. It was a cacophony of emotions all firing at once and the smile Fliss was displaying on the outside sure as hell couldn't have adequately reflected what she felt inside; like every neurone of her brain was trying to fire in both directions at once - the best kind of paralysis. Simply put, the animal was beautiful. Sleek dark bay with unblemished limbs, two white socks on the hind legs and a blaze very similar to Heidi’s down her dark face. Her mane and tail were shiny black, and whilst the animal had little muscle definition, Fliss new that was down to the fact she hadn’t ever been ridden before having been used as an attempted brood animal. It was clear she had been looked after and cared for as the mare had a sweet eye, it wasn’t looking at anyone suspiciously or worriedly, simply curiously as she spun quickly on the spot, giving a shout which was answered by Cap in the barn, Fliss knew his whinny off by heart. As Cleo turned her pretty head, she glanced straight at Fliss who took a deep breath as shiny, bright brown eyes gazed back at her. At that the horse gave a soft little nicker and there was an explosion in Fliss’ brain... the good sort... the buzz of electricity she had felt when she’d been to view Heidi for the first time. As dramatic as it may have been to admit this out loud, to her it was the calling card of adventure, of paths awaiting both their feet that they could enjoy together. Whatever was ahead could be a great challenge, and there would undoubtedly be tears and frustration, many hours of patience and hard work as there was to be expected with any horse you were backing and teaching from the start, but it was Fliss’ adventure to take. With a gentle breath she stepped forward slowly, towards her new animal and held her hand out, palm up, offering the horse a sniff. “Hey, Cleo.” Fliss spoke gently as her other hand ever so quietly moved to scratch the horse on the wither. “Hi, how you doing, girl?” Frank watched and let the happiness Fliss was exuding soak right into his bones. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to smile at Verity who juggled Alex in her arms as she stood by his side. “You do realise that if you weren’t already, you’ve effectively just become a horse widow before you even get married, right? Backing a horse is gonna take a lot of her time and become an obsession.” She grinned as Frank offered to take his son from her and she obliged. Frank gently turned him and held him to his chest, facing outwards so he could see what was going on.

“I don’t much care.” Frank chuckled as he watched Mary extend her hand out to pat Cleo as the animal rubbed her head against Fliss who reached up to wipe the tears of joy from her eyes. “Look how happy she is.” He took a deep breath, her happiness was infectious and Frank was simply savouring the feeling of sheer pleasure in his system at seeing his girl so full of joy because of something he’d managed to pull off. Simply put, he wanted to still be able to make her feel like that when they were old. Half an hour later the horse in question had been given a quick feed and a drink of water and left to settle in a spare stable. Fliss had then been given a blow by blow account of what Frank, Mary and Bill had dubbed ‘Operation Cleopatra-Comin’ At Ya’ and she thanked them all, once more getting emotional over how much thought and effort had gone into everything so far. Eventually, once Cleo had been turned out into a field with Monty for the evening, they all made their way back to the house, showered and changed ready for the BBQ they were hosting later, Bill and V taking up residence in the guest suite for the night. Frank was already in the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a blue and white checked button down, sleeves rolled up, when Fliss walked in wearing a pale blue sun dress which accentuated her waist and boobs, much to his delight, her Cowboy boots completing the look.

Their friends arrived and there were more gifts exchanged before drinks started to flow and they then made their way to the yard so Fliss could show their friends around. She laughed as she saw that Bill had jokingly put a ribbon over the gate for Fliss to cut, which she did to a few cheers and some sarcastic comments from her brother, one of which earned him a slap round the back of the head from Verity. Frank watched as she showed everyone around, Jake taking particular interest in the state of the art security system that was installed as he said it was similar to the one he was looking at for Lisa’s cake shop. The pride was simply flowing out of Fliss as she talked and explained everything, and Frank loved to see it. A few hours later, it was dark and their back yard was lit up by the various strings of lights and lamps dotted all around, which Frank fake-grumpily liked to point out made their garden look like a Fairy’s grotto. The air was full of chatter, light music and laughter as everyone milled around in the way they always do at parties. After more drinks and the food had been eaten, Fliss said she was going to head up to check on Cleo and Frank hastily offered to go with her, not least because he didn’t want her going alone, but because he wanted to snatch a moment alone for the pair of them. It was a beautiful, clear night. Peaceful and quiet bar the sounds of crickets. The horses, who were in the fields happily settled, all raised their heads as they passed, Cap trotting over to the fence line to greet them. Frank gave him a quick stroke on the nose before they moved down to the next paddock and Fliss ducked under the electric fencing and strode over to check Cleo. Satisfied that nothing was amiss she came back, a smile on her face and they set off back down the path, her hand linked in his. “Thank you.” She broke the comfortable silence a moment or so later.

“What for?” Frank glanced down at her and she let out a contented sigh.

“Everything today. And everything everyday.” She said, her voice laced with happiness. “All my gifts, it just shows how much you actually listen to me...”

“What you mean is I don’t ignore you deliberately as you accuse me of doing?” Frank shot back and Fliss snorted.

“If anything this proves it is deliberate when you do something I don’t like.” She looked at him and he chuckled before shook her head. “I still can’t believe you managed to get a horse here from England.”

“Yeah and basically empties half our savings.” He snorted and she shrugged.

“She’s worth it. I’m impressed, Francis.”

"Well like I said, I had a little help, it was a family affair.”

“I know and I love that Mum and Dad and Steve all chipped in but still, it was your idea.” She smiled. “It’s so thoughtful.”

“Well, you spend enough time thinking about everyone else, making sure we’re all happy,” Frank shrugged, the pleasure lancing through his system at her happiness made him in turn feel contend. “I thought it was time you got something back.”

“You make me happy every day.” Fliss shrugged. “And I’m not saying that just to be sentimental either. It’s a fact. And you know what else is a fact?”

“What?”

“That you’ve now imported as many horses into this county as I have.”

“Guess that makes me the Cowboy to your Cowgirl.” He nodded seriously as they stopped at the end of the path by the large open fronted barn just off the main yard area.

“Yeah? Is there a snake in your boots?”

“There’s one in my pants.” Frank grinned, and she laughed. 

“Is it dangerous?”

“No, but it spits.”

“Frank!” She scoffed, elbowing him in the side as he laughed, looping his arm round her shoulder,  pressing a kiss to her head as he pulled her back into him, his chest flush to her back. “Wanna fuck in the haybarn?” His voice was deep and soft in her ear as his lips dropped to the side of her neck, large hands curling softly over the curve of her hip, the cotton of her dress bunched in his fingers. Her entire body erupted into goose bumps and her belly was in knots, but still it was there, that overwhelming sense of comfort and familiarity that enabled her to laugh softly as she tilted her head to the side to look at him. “Only taken you what? Like three years to suggest that?” "So I'm a little slow.” Frank chuckled as she turned to face him, her hands sliding up his chest. “Well,” she smirked up at him, eyes flashing in the moonlight, “better turn up the speed because they’ll be wondering where we are.” “Fuck ‘em.” Frank shrugged, but still he wasted no time as he hurriedly backed Fliss into the haybarn, the two falling into a pile of it with a giggle. His large hands hiked up the sides of her dress, exposing her panty covered mound as his lips latched to hers in a deep and tantalizing dance. Thick fingers, soft and rough in their own way, played at the hemline of her panties just at the apex of her thighs, a thumb pressing into her clit just over the fabric. As his mouth moved from hers to her jawline, the scruff of his beard giving her that delectable burn she loved so much, a needy rumble vibrated from her throat and chest, Fliss enjoying every bit of pressure Frank offered. Then, a cool breeze touched her wet opening as she realized Frank had moved her panties to the side, an elicit sound escaping her lips as he slipped two fingers inside her. "You know today, I remember thinking that your laugh was the prettiest sound in the world.” Frank’s breath was hot on her ear as his teeth nipped at her neck. “I was wrong, it's your moans." Fliss choked a little on another groan as his fingers curled against her spot, over and over, in a beckoning motion, as if he was motioning her towards him. The heel of his palm pressed up against her clit and she pushed her hips down, rotating them a little as she sought out the friction of his strong but gentle touch. “That what you want?” Frank’s voice was husky, his mouth hovering over hers as she gave a wanton mewl, his hand keeping the same steady pace, forcing her to up his. “You wanna cum on my fingers, huh?” “Yeah, God, Frank...” a hoarse murmur  slipped from her lips as her eyes flickered shut, head tipping back in pleasure. “Jesus, that feels good!” “I got something that’ll feel even better.” He quipped in a low, rough tone that was almost a growl and a grin spread across Fliss’ lips as he slanted his mouth over hers, swallowing the noise of protest she made as he removed fingers from inside her, kneeling up, both his hands flying to his belt buckle. Fliss sat up, wriggling her panties down her legs and over her boots. With a cheeky flick of her eyebrow she tossed them straight at him. Possessing reflexes Fred would be proud of, Frank caught them in his left hand and held them to his face, his eyes locked on hers as he pressed his nose into them, inhaling deeply. “You’re a dirty, little shit, Adler.” She let out a naughty sounding chuckle as Frank stuffed her panties into his back pocket. “Yeah, and you’re filthy, goddamned minx, Gallagher.”  He quipped back, and a matter of seconds later he had his jeans and boxers down over his slim hips. Falling back over her, his mouth pressed back to hers again and he gave a hiss through his teeth as she reached down and grabbed him in her hand. Her fingers curled around his shaft and she gave him a few, quick strokes, before she guided him to where she wanted him. Slowly he pushed into her, the pair of them letting out a shuddered breath before his hips began to move quickly back and forth with fast, shallow thrusts and Frank reached down, large fingers curling over her thigh, hooking her leg up round his waist. His hand moved upwards, bunching the hem of her dress up, stopping as he grabbed at her hip, his other palm flat on the rough, coarse hay bale that they were propped up against. His lips crashed to hers in a desperate, needy kiss. His tongue traced the inside of her mouth as her hands tangled in his hair and she let out a little whimper, tipping her hips up to meet his as his thrusts grew deeper, more powerful, his pace still equally as fast as he drove her nearer and nearer to her high, a broken groan rumbling from his chest as he felt her walls tightening down around him. Fliss’ chest hitched, and her eyes closed momentarily, her mouth falling open as she croaked his name repeatedly, almost in time with his thrusts, a mantra as he watched her face which was contorted in pleasure. “Feels so good, don’t stop.” She mumbled, her hands tangling in his hair as her eyes opened. His forehead pressed to hers, a sheen of sweat covering both their red faces as his hips snapped back and forth, simple, fast ruts. Fliss could feel him, deep inside her, and soon that familiar heat and tingling began to burn between her legs and in the bottom of her belly. Her breathing quickened and then the waves of pleasure washed over her, her back arching as she gave a loud cry her nails digging into his scalp. Frank continued thrusting through her orgasm, and it didn’t take him long to catch up with her. “Fuck, Lissy...” his words cut off and a broken whimper slipped from his mouth as he came with a final deep thrust, his fingers tightening around her waist before he collapsed forward, burying his head against her neck. Fliss could feel herself pulsing around him, the aftershocks of her orgasm still coursing through her body, her walls contracting every so often as they lay still, his dick still twitching inside of her. Leaving a soft kiss to the spot under her neck, Frank pushed himself up and brushed his nose against hers, giving her a soft kiss as she gave a hum of satisfaction, the fingers of one hand gently stroking the nape of his neck, the other brushing up and down his bicep. “We should get back.” She whispered. “We’ve been gone half an hour.” Frank gave a groan but nodded and moved gently away, pulling out of her. He stood up, held his hand out and helped her to her feet, tugging her into him, large hands cupping her face. He kissed her again, deeply and she smiled as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Love you.” His lips pecked hers again, and she chuckled, giving him another kiss. “Love you too.” She beamed, stepping back to sort her hair out. Frank pulled his boxers and jeans up, brushing the remnants of forage and dust off his thighs and shirt before Fliss turned round and he did the same to her, plucking away a few strands of straw and hay that had become tangled in her auburn locks. “Am I presentable?” She asked and Frank nodded. “The evidence of our crime is eradicated.” He nodded, giving her a little smirk before he jerked his head towards the outside. “Erm, you’re forgetting something.” Fliss stopped him. “What?” “My knickers.” She held her hand out, palm opened and Frank gave a teasing frown. “Oh, do I have those?” He asked and she rolled her eyes, his hand falling to her hip. “Yes, so gimme.” Her fingers curled into her palm and back out in a demanding gesture and Frank shrugged. “You threw 'em away, so I think I’ll keep 'em.” “Frank, I can’t go back with nothing on underneath this!” She gestured to the floaty skirt of her knee length sundress and Frank shook his head. “Just don’t bend over and we’re good.” He looked at her with that maddening, cheeky smile, holding out his hand. “Such an asshole.” She scoffed, taking his hand and allowing him to lead her out of the barn. 

 As they walked, she squirmed a little, feeling his release beginning to trickle down her leg and Frank looked at her, a knowing smug expression on his face and she glared at him. “I’m going straight upstairs to clean up.” She grumbled and he laughed, letting go of her hand so he could loop and arm round her shoulders. “That would be rude considering we have guests.” He teased, pulling her close he pressed a kiss to her head as her own arm slipped round his waist, a smile on her face, the sounds of laughter and chatter from their guests drifting to their ears as they neared the farm house. They walked into the back yard through the gates and Fliss smiled at Mary who came running over. “Was she okay?” “Yup, settled in the field with Monty and eating away. He’s a good babysitter.” “That’s so cool!” “Where’s Alex?” Frank asked and Mary looked at him. “Poppa Bill has him.” She said, and Frank glanced around to see the man in question did indeed have their son in his arms, the baby grabbing at his short, grey hair letting out squeals as Bill pretended to bite his little neck. “Hey Mom, are we still going in the pool? Joel and Charlie are exited for night swimming!” “Yeah, in fact I’ll go in and get changed right away.” Fliss smiled, shooting a smug glance at Frank as she has been unwittingly handed a perfect excuse to go and clean up. “Cool!” Mary shot off, passing Bill as he walked over towards them. “Hey Dad!” Fliss smiled, “I’ll be right back, the kids want to go swimming so...” “Yeah okay.” He smiled, handing Alex over to his dad who pressed a kiss to his chubby cheeks. “Oh, Titch?” “Hmm?” She spun round to face him and Bill looked at her then to Frank and back again, his eyebrow raised. “Might wanna pull that hay out of your hair too before you come back down.” Fliss felt her cheeks heat up and her hands hastily moved to the back of her head, pulling a few long strands from her ponytail. She threw an accusatory glance at Frank who simply shrugged. “Guess I missed a bit.” He replied innocently, although he was anything but. He knew full well they were there, but there was that naughty, smug little shit inside of him that had wanted everyone to know they’d just been for a roll in the hay, quite literally. It appealed to his macho, alpha-male masculinity. “Dick.” Fliss scoffed, and as she headed inside his laughter accompanied by her dad’s exasperated chuckle hit her ears. 

**** Chapter 26

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Exotic Lifeforms.”

Had some fun writing this one. Give you more of that alien perspective everyone likes so much, so I hope you like it 

“It has been a pleasure doing work with you as always.”

“Your end of the deal?”

“Already upheld…. Where do you even find these creatures. I can’t say we have ever seen anything like it.”

“We found these ones on a stroke of luck. We do not think they are native to the panet, though where they came from is still very much a mystery.”

“Then what a stroke of luck for us indeed, I can’t imagine having your job.”

“You should try sometime, the exotic lifeforms business is very lucrative. If it hadn’t been you, I would have sold it to a wealthy owner.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because, you paid more.” 

The Vitan turned ponderously on its five trunk-like legs and left through the open wall which spilled a beam of light through the room before going dark once more. 

The doors all around the circular room closed, the collector turned back to their work. The room itself was large and dark, shaped in that of a large black circle, the floors rising up with a steady curve into the ceiling than above. They stood at the center of this circle, and when commanded great projections of blue light appeared around the circle each disclosing a different image from a different one of the pens.

They turned their attention to the newest addition, watching the creature where it prowled back and forth around the perimeter of the yard.

Another beam of light cut through the room, though they did not turn to see who it might be.

The sound that followed was a sort of scuttling noise, slimy and wet against the open floor.

The Mandicar approached from behind and paused just to the right and behind their left side, a lead scientist by trade, she was one of the most important life forms on his staff.

They turned to address her.

Four thick stumpy tentacles undulated and wriggled, pulling her heavy body across the floor. The sacules on the side of her torso wobbled with her movement, and thousands of tiny breathing holes across her skin expanded and contracted with the movement of airflow. 

“What have you discovered?” They wondered, though-- nothing the tint of blue on the tips of her tentacles, the could see that she was very excited.

“A glorious discovery! Very exciting and like nothing we have ever seen before. Each creature better than the last. I have four new species to report about, and add to our collected knowledge on exoctic lifeforms.”

“Go on.”

“The names are decided Duopedus Secandi, Volantes Planita, and Magnum Turpis, Though the children have taken to calling the first a Duos because they cannot pronounce the proper scientific name. It is a very popular creature with our guests, very active. IT has even been seen to interact with some of the guests.”

“Tell me, what have you learned about this creature.”

She adjusted herself clearly excited to be giving a presentation. That is why they had hired her. While they were not particularly interested about the welfare and maintenance of these creatures, studies had shown that a happy creature that was well taken care of was more likely to live a long time, and therefore draw more of a profit. Not to mention that the sentient species tended to react best when there was someone around to boost enthusiasm, and he had to admit she was very good at that.

“Oh it's a lovely little creature, quite adorable really, the way it scampers around on its little feet.”

“Focus.”

“Oh, sorry.” The sacules at her sides flushed purple, “Well we know the basic so far. Obviously it is a bipedal carbon-based consumer lieform. Its primary needs are Oxygen and water. An analysis of its structures, including teeth, eyes and other notable features seem to suggest that it is an omnivorous predator. Early studies seem to suggest it has a relatively high IQ, maybe that of a small child though it does not seem capable of language, at least not that we understand. It’s range of speech are in extremely high pitches, and it barely seems to be able to hear us much less us hear it.”

“How very interesting.”

“Isn’t it! Anyway, I took the liberty of analysing it, so that we might better accommodate its needs. And so far what I have determined is,... well the creature is very cute, but it is a complete  biohazard risk.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean all of its byproducts are completely volatile and hazardous to health. We have tested and analysed some of it by products and determined it to have some sort of symbiotic relationship with bacteria that live in its innards. These bacteria help the creature digest in exchange for maintained life, but due to this many of these bacterial lifeforms are expelled and cause great hazard. This process begins in the mouth meaning if this creature were to bite, it could lead to a likely lethal infection.” “We will have to put barriers in front  of the enclosure than.”

“Precisely.”

“ Now  as to more health related topics. The creature is capable of consuming a very versatile diet though its resistance to infection is a little less than one might have hoped, so it’s food will need to be properly cleaned. The diet itself should contain a wide variety of complex structures as it cannot produce by itself some of the chemicals required to feed it. That should not be hard, I would suggest injecting supplements into the food we are already rationing to it. This should include meat as I have said before. As a consumer based lifeform it both requires and expends a great deal of energy. I imagine it will be one of the viewers favorites due to the increased activity level. Furthermore -- as related to my earlier discussion -- its pen should be cleaned weekly if not biweekly. A clean water source should be provided, one that has likely been sterilized as it seems the water on its native planet was not prone to bacterial interference.”

“Seems strangely needy for a creature that has a symbiotic relationship with bacteria.”

“A very specific kind of bacteria.”

“Alright then, what else do we know?”

“The creature is bipedal as you are aware, though its feet and skin are relatively soft. It will require sand in its enclosure for maximum comfort, not to mention that it will need a shaded place to rest in order to stay out of the direct rays of the sun. Its skin has no natural defences against UV light making me think that it is likely a creature meant for the shade, though I cannot be certain. That is merely a guess based on the very light color of its dermal layer.” 

They nodded, “That can definitely be arranged.”

“Now, analysis also demonstrates a high production of oil in the skin and the hair. We see this as some kind of over-production, so it might be best to add a second kind of water source for it to bathe itself. The skin is water-proof but also requires moisture, and I think that a slow running river through the habitat would be a nice touch for the creature. Since it does not have fur, and the body has to work to thermoregulate, I would suggest temperatures around 75-80 degrees with 45-55% humidity index. Furthermore analysis of the bone structure might suggest that the creature originally evolved from an animal that walked on all fours, for this reason the feet, the knees and the lower back are especially prone to issue. IT will need somewhere comfortable to lay down, likely in that same shaded area I mentioned before. Something with enough padding to support the spine and allow for the bones of its hips and shoulders not to become soar.”

They were working to type this up in a report and send it out to the lieforms who built the habitats.

“What else do we know?”

“Since the creature has an increased intelligence quotient, I would suggest stimulating the environment. Add in some kind of activities or puzzles for it to solve, so that it will not be bored, otherwise it could become destructive. OUr analysis suggests that it was likely supposed to be a social creature, so Maybe adding a ground level window for it to interact with guests. We can see if maybe we can tame the creature so that the keepers might be able to provide it with some socialization. I hesitate to do that though because it still is a wild animal.”

They shifted turning to look at the camera feed, where the Duos was still wandering the perimeter of its enclosure.

“I thought you said it was docile.”

“It was injured when we found it, which was a likely reason, but I have done some tests on its chemical structure, and it seems to me that the creature produces some kind of hormone that stimulates the aggression centers of its brain. If this creature were to get out of its cage and be in a bad mood, it has a bite force of 162 pounds per square inch which is capable of tearing flesh and even amputating small lims on some of our guests, not to mention that the claws on the tips of its fingers can break skin. There is also evidence that it can turn its saliva into a projectile, which means that it can spread its biohazard up to around 32 feet, though that is on the extreme end of the spectrum.”

“This creature is really than dangerous?””

She sighed loudly through her entire body, the sacks at her sides quivering with the movement, “You see, that is the difficult part to determine because…. I would have to say no. It is not as dangerous generally as most of the creatures we keep here, but it is just dangerous enough in a variety of ways that the aggregate makes it especially concerning. Take the fact that the creature is not venomous, but it's just enough of a biohazard to behave like it is. Its bite isn’t that strong and its teeth aren’t that sharp, but still enough to rip flesh. Its not as strong as some animals, but strong enough to know someone over and hurt them badly. It isn’t very fast, but faster than some. IT isn’t the smartest we have seen -- that goes to the Volontes Planita-- but it is smart enough that we have to be careful. It isn’t aggressive, but it has the potentiality to be.” She ran her tentacles over the ground, “I think what I am trying to say is that the creature isn’t particularly impressive in any one aspect, but its abilities are so diverse than it aggregates into something greater than the sum of its parts.”

They nodded in great interest, “Go on.”

“It can run, it can jump, it can bite, it can spit, it can throw, it can crawl, oh and it can climb, that is probably something important you are going to have to look out for. An analysis of its feet and hands suggest great dexterity of a four legged creature that once spent most of its timb climbing, and while this creature spends most of its time walking on land there are still structures in there that make it an excellent climber as it can grip very well with the hands and partially with the feet. The hands in particular are an important structure to keep an eye on as the creature has an amazing dexterity with them.”

“How so?”

“IF could probably perform complex medical procedures if we asked it to, not that that would really be possible.”

“Good, good. I will get this down to the workers immediately, and they will make an enclosure for it.”

“Ah…. but there is one more thing.”

“What is that?”

“It seems as if we are not the first one to have captured this creature?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” They demanded, turning around to look at the scientist with great interest and agitation.

“The body is not completely organic. The skeletal structure on its outer layer that we once thought of as some kind of exoskeleton is not organic.”

“Not organic!”

“No sir, it seems to be made out of titanium and steel. Not to mention that one of its legs has been replaced, along with one of its eyes.”

They stood there in shock not entirely sure what to think about that, “It survived without one of its limbs.”

“Yes whatever happened to this creature, one of the legs and the eyes was removed and replaced with analogues. As for the creature itself, it is very durable, and has overactive scar tissue meaning that it heals quickly and from extreme injuries. That is another reason that I express my concern to you as it seems this creature may not be taken down by normal means especially if some other life form has been tampering with it.”

“That is…. horrible .”

Another long sigh, “I know…. Its horrible what they did to it. I can’t believe someone would be so callous. How it must have suffered.”

“Well, get it moved into a new enclosure, and see that its needs are taken care of. I want to send some of my people back to see if we can learn anything about the species that has been tampering with it.”

“Of course.” 

She turned and headed towards the door.

They called after her and she turned, “Be careful, if that creature is half as dangerous as you say it is, we will want to be cautious.” ***

I was not going with them.

I sat at the center of my ‘pen’ arms crossed and looking at the open cage door at the other side of the enclosure.

These asshole bastards had put me in a fucking zoo,and now they expected me to cooperate for a measly piece of fruit. Despite popular opinion from my brothers I am not a fucking monkey and will not be bribed to go with out.

I had already done a preliminary examination of the enclosure. It was nothing to write home about  -- aside form the fact that I was it’s occupant which bothered me greatly, and made me feel some serious feelings for the lions at the zoo who must have been just as pissed off as I was.

The walls were too high and too smooth to climb, and at their top I could see a thousand eyes staring down at me. Now its not like there were a thousand people to look on, but some of these freaky aliens had like ten ees which greatly skewed the eye count.

They gestured with tentacles and limbs and and any other appendages towards me as I sat arms crossed glowering towards the door.

A part of me greatly wanted to flip all of them off or moon them or something, but just because I was being treated like a monkey didn’t mean I had to act like one.

I could see the handlers moving just outside the cages trying to coax me in by tossing in more fruit. In a way watching them struggle was kind of funny. Based on their behavior, I would wager to say they had no idea that I was sentient. If they ever found out this was going to ook really stupid for them.

Now if they have a plate of my mom’s Pumpkin Pie in there, than MAYBE that would work, number one because pie is great and number two because that would imply they were keeping my mother captive to make pies, which was something I could hardly stand for.

Let them do what they want.

I needed to find a way out because this was DEFINITELY not ok.

This is not how I was going to spend the rest of my days.

For sure.

I had to be smart about this. Sitting there in the sand I began to devise a plan. The important part obviously was not to let on about how intelligent I really was. Unfortunately a lot of that might already have been undone, but maybe if I acted enough like an animal, than it would lower their guard and they would make somes sort of mistake.

Remember, I still had the Iron eye armor on my side, and an advanced prosthetic leg. Not to mention a knife and two spearheads which had been concealed under my leaves, so I was not completely helpless.

Although, you know what, retract my earlier statement. Maybe acting like a monkey is exactly what I needed to do to get out of this place. Make myself look docile and harmless, lower security and get my ass out of here.

Man I wish I was smarter, for sure, but I guess flying by the seat of my pants was going to have to do.

I cracked my knuckles and then my neck.

Time to go back to my animal roots.

Yeah, laugh all you want but it is much easier to behave like an animal when you are actually behaving like an animal.  I couldn’t convince them i wasn't bipedal already, but I made sure to behave all the other ways like an animal, slowly and nervously approaching the opening, stepping half in and then backing out, quickly grabbing some fruit and then running off with it. Eating pieces of it messily and with both hands. Using my teeth as much as possible.

Yeah yeah, I felt pretty dumb, but this was my first idea so I might as well roll with it.

Once that piece of fruit was done, I wandered over and nervously crawled in on all fours testing the ground with my hands.

OF course I could already see the hatch way that was going to come slamming down as soon as I crawled inside. I may be an idiot but I am a sentient idiot, and just as I thought it would, as soon as I crawled in far enough, the door slammed shut. I made a big show of getting spooked and racing around the sindie of the cage jumping up against the walls until finally curling up piteously in a corner. All the while I am watching carefully how they contain me, and it seems as if their transfer method is pretty solid. I had more likelihood of breaking out in the pen.

I wait quietly in my corner as the box is moved, and suddenly the door slides open again. 

I do my best to look hesitant and scared as I poke my head out into the sun.

A waft of pleasantly warm air hits me.

Crawling out, I crawl out onto nice warm sand. A stream trickles past my feet not a few feet away, and just to my right a little shaded nest has been made up below a tall covering. There are branches and steel bars lined around the enclosure, meaning I guess they figured out that humans can climb. 

Overhead I can see a steel cage cutting off my escape from the top.

Or so they thought.

It was a pleasant little place all told, almost like a beachfront island paradise with the perfect temperature and humidity.

I crawled up over to the next and took a seat hidden behind the leaves.

Well fuck their beachfront property and comfortable captivity.

I would rather be a free man suffering than a well groomed pet in a cage.

I was going to escape.

[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Two

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Authors Note: Sorry that this has taken a little longer than anticipated and thank you so much for all the love for the first part.

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

One of the main drawbacks of working with social media, is that you are always on social media and you’re constantly bombarded with information and images that make you feel downright crap about yourself.

I’d been asked to take over the instagram page of one of the high profile players at the club and his entire feed was just one supermodel and influencer after the other with the odd footballer thrown in to balance it out. They were all so stunning that it truly made me feel awful about myself, how could it not? My salary was pretty good for a new graduate but not quite good enough for weekly manicures, lip fillers and hair extensions and my time management wouldn’t stretch for that either, I barely made my eyebrow wax appointments.

I was trying to avoid looking at the player’s DMs while I posted a few pictures from the pre-season training sessions to his feed, but the notifications pinging every few minutes was getting quite annoying.

Has it been Brianna with access to his account and not me, she would have gone straight to his messages to read them. I preferred to live in blissful ignorance to the sleazy ways of the men around me. I already felt like finding a good guy was absolutely hopeless.

I had been renting a flat and I was saving for a deposit to buy a house, hoping that by the time I had saved up enough to buy that I would have found the right person to live with. If I were to attempt this alone, with London house prices I would be around  60 by the time I had saved enough alone.

The message notifications continued to come in and whoever Sam was, she was really keen.

I logged out after posting the final image and prayed I wouldn’t have to go into it again. The less I knew about their private lives, the better. It would be pretty awkward to be sat in the staff and players’ family box at a game knowing that the wife of someone I knew was cheating was close by. Best to steer clear of those complications.

Brianna hadn’t visited my office at all and by 12 I was both worried and hungry and decided to go looking for her.

I tried the kit room first but it was empty and surprisingly tidy. Dave kept a tight ship and liked everything to be in its place but it wasn’t often possible with the sheer volume of kits that needed to be looked after.

As I backed out of the kit room and closed the door, I felt something hit me in the back.

“Sorry” mumbled the voice from behind me. “I was looking for Dave, I need a new top.”

I knew who it was but I didn’t really want to turn around and look at him.

“They’re not in there, I was just looking for him and Brianna too.” I responded in an emotionless tone, shrugging.

“Why are you being so weird?” he asked.

I turned to face him then and gave him a look of contempt before I answered him. “Maybe I just don’t enjoy spending time around footballers?”

“No offence love, but I think you might be in the wrong job if that is the case.” he put his hand on the door, next to my head where I was practically pinned against the door by how close he was to me. Only then did I realise that the training top that he was wearing was ripped, front he shoulder to his navel, the material hanging and exposing his toned chest and abs. I tried to look away but he had caught me looking and was now smirking.

“Maybe it’s just you that puts me off.” I shrugged as I ducked under his arm, escaping from my position between him and the door.

“You really don’t like me?” He huffed. “I don’t remember doing anything to offend you personally.”

“Maybe I’m offended that privileged young lads get money, fame and praise just for kicking a ball around a muddy field. Try something more impressive, like curing cancer or performing life saving surgery, ending world hunger, ending wars.” I groaned in frustration. Maybe that was the truth of it. Why should he get all the praise and admiration that he got, just for playing a sport? There were so many incredible people in the world doing, or working towards the things in that list that never got half the praise that Mason Mount did for kicking a ball.

He looked a bit dumb struck.

I went in again, “Maybe I don’t like you assuming that I should be into you, just because you’re Mason Mount, England and Chelsea midfielder. Maybe that’s what the girls in the club that throw themselves at your feet are into, but it’s not for me.”

I made to leave and he grabbed my hand and mumbled, “Sorry, I’ll leave you alone from now on.”

I didn’t respond. Just pulled my hand from his and stormed off towards the boot room, leaving him outside of the kit room in his ripped shirt.

“Fuck it smells like feet in here.” I complained, walking into the boot room with my nose pinched between my fingers in disgust.

“When I said that I liked shoes to dad, this is not what I meant.” Brianna laughed.

“What are you doing in here, I didn’t think boots were part of your job?” I asked, perching on one of the benches while Bri sat on the floor, sorting through a massive pile of boots to try and match up the pairs. They were in all sorts of bright colours and differing sizes. If I had to guess, I’d guess that she had been at her task for hours.

“Dad and the boot guy had some sort of emergency” she shrugged.

I laughed at that, wondering what kind of emergency you could have that involved kits and boots. Maybe they hadn’t ordered the right brand or something and one of the stars wasn’t going to get his cash from his boot deal if they didn’t find him the right pair.

There was a little tap on the sliding glass door that lead out onto the pitches and stood there was the guy from the other day that had held the door to the cafeteria open for us. He looked a little sheepish.

“Are you going to let him in?” I asked Bri, trying to unbury her from the pile of boots by throwing some of them into a pile, all of the orange ones in one corner, the yellow in another pile and pink in another and so on.

“Oh yeah.” she said, standing and brushing herself off, and adjusting her skirt that rode up her thighs slightly. The guy had noticed and I watched as he tried to look away and then down at his feet. At first I hadn’t thought that his shyness was that genuine. Footballers were all confident cocky little shits in my book, I’d never met one that was shy and unsure of himself.

Bri unlocked the door and let him in.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but only one of these fits” he said, holding up a pair of lime green boots and giving Bri an apologetic smile.

“Oh shit” she said, taking the pair from him and inspecting them. “I’ve given you one 10 and one 9.5.” she looked through the pile of lime green boots until she said “aha!” triumphantly brandishing another size 10 boot. “Here you go my love.”

That as just Bri’s way, she called everyone little pet names all the time, but he didn’t know that and he was blushing profusely and I was almost certain that his hands were shaking as he laced the boots up.

“Thank you so much.” he mumbled, looking like he was about to die of embarrassment. He turned to walk back out of the sliding door, but hadn’t realised that Bri had shut it behind him, so he ended up walking straight into the glass, hitting it with enough force to emmit a cracking noise from his nose which was suddenly streaming with blood.

I jumped up from my seat and crossed the room to him, avoiding the piles of boots the best that I could, not wanting to add myself to the casualty list.

I had an unused tissue in my pocket, that I took out and pressed to his nose. It was instantly bright red and the blood poured straight through it.

“Bri can you go and warn the medical room that we need to bring him down?” I asked.

She nodded in agreement and rushed out of the room.

I put my arm around his waist and guided him back over to the benches. He sat down and I slipped my cardigan off. It was a very thin material and already a deep shade of red. I didn’t let him protest as I replaced the tissue with my cardigan. It was the best that we had, and he looked like he was in a lot of pain.

“I’ve never seen anyone get that flustered before.” i laughed, sitting down beside him. He managed to give me a pained grin.

‘It’s Bri isn’t it? Is she why you were waiting by the canteen door the other day?” I asked gently, patting him reassuringly on the back. “I wanted to send her out of the room so that I could ask you, and also to reassure you that you shouldn’t be embarrassed about this. I’ve seen Bri do a lot more embarrassing things. She’s always falling over and hurting herself. You would make quite the pair.” I laughed.

He shook his head and mumbled “I can’t ask her out”.

“Why the hell not?” i scoffed.

“She has a boyfriend doesn’t she?” he shrugged, looking really sombre.

“Ah no, not anymore. Things are definitely over between her and that prick, and between you and me, if she ever gets back together with him, I’ll give her a matching broken nose.” I bumped shoulders with his, trying to cheer him up, just as Bri came back into the room and told us that the medical room were waiting for him.

“Can you come with me?” he asked, not talking to Bri, but to me instead.

“Sure, I would do anything to get out of work this afternoon. Our twitter page today is just full of fans that are disappointed that we didn’t use the Hazard money to sign Messi.” I laughed, getting up and guiding him towards the door.

“Can we catch up later?” I asked Bri before leaving the room, she nodded and told me she would be free all evening.

As we walked down the corridor I said to him “See, no plans to see a boyfriend” and he blushed again.

One of the medical assistants rushed out to meet us and guided him into the room exclaiming “Billy, what the hell? How have you done that?”

He shrugged, clearly feeling embarrassed about how he had injured himself. So when they looked over at me for clarification, I shrugged too.

Billy wasn’t the only player needing the use of the treatment room. As he sat down on one of the chairs, I noticed that Ben was in there too.

The medic went about dabbing Billy’s nose and he cried out in pain.

“Sorry about your cardigan.” he said, looking down at the red material on his lap. He didn’t need it now that he was getting patched up.

“Honestly don’t worry about it Billy.” I grinned.

The medic then mumbled something about needing something and left the room.

That gave Billy a bit more confidence to talk about what had happened.

“And thank you for the advice about your friend.” Billy seemed a bit happier as he said that, and I could see Ben out of the corner of my eye looking over at us as Billy spoke.

“Please tell me you’re going to ask her out!” Ben laughed.

I turned to look at him and smiled. “You know?”

Ben nodded and looked at Billy with a horrified expression “Oh god, you asked her out and she punched you.”

I shook my head. “Not exactly.” I said.

“The boyfriend was here for some reason, and he punched you?’ Ben went on, standing up and coming over to Billy. He walked with a slight limp.

He stood in between us.

“Why are you in here if you don’t mind me asking?” I looked down at his leg while asking the question.

“It’s my hamstring, nothing too serious.” He smiled.

“Don’t laugh at me when I tell you how I did this.” Billy warned, pointing at his nose. “I walked into a sliding glass door that I thought was open, all because she gave me a pair of boots and called me love.” he groaned, covering his face in embarrassment.

Ben laughed and clapped Billy on the back with his hand. “Oh mate, no wonder you’re embarrassed.” he then addressed me, asking “Just how cringy was it?”

I shook my head before answering him, “I honestly don’t think it was that bad. Bri is pretty oblivious sometimes and I don’t actually think she realised the real reason for you hurting yourself. So if you were to pluck up the courage to speak to her, I wouldn’t even bring it up.”

_________________________________________________________

The next day, I was looking out at the training pitches while I waited for the coffee machine to finish making my drink when there was a gentle tap on my door.

I crossed the room and opened it, expecting it to Bri or maybe even the club photographer giving me some new pictures of the squad to use, but it was Ben.

“Hi, are you free?” he asked, giving me one of his sweet smiles.

“Yeah come in.” I said, stepping back into my office and letting him pass me so that I could hold the door open.

“That coffee smells nice”. He remarked.

“Do you want one? Or did I put you off the other day?” I smiled.

“Ah no thanks, and no you didn’t put me off. I’ve never really liked the stuff. I like the smell of coffee, it just doesn’t taste as good as it smells.” as he spoke I realised that he was holding something in a plastic bag.

He realised that I was looking at it. “It’s your cardigan. I washed it for you at home. Think I got all the blood out but it’s red so I can’t really tell.”

I was for once, speechless. It was a small gesture but it was really kind all the same. I thought about making a witty remark about it actually being his mother or an employed cleaner that washed it for him but I just couldn’t bring myself to.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. It’s only an old primark cardigan.” I said, taking the bag from him.

I suddenly felt a bit flustered in his company. He had that charming smile and didn’t really look like a cocky footballer to me. He didn’t act like one much either, he was just kind of like the guy next door, or the guy you would see on Tinder with a picture of him with his mates at the only photo on the profile so you couldn’t tell which one you were swiping for.

In all honesty, he kind of reminded me of my ex boyfriend Rory. He had the same sort of look, and they had similar accents. Maybe it was nostalgia that made me find being around Ben comforting.

‘I think your coffee is done.” he said, gesturing to the machine.

I nodded and walked over to the machine, taking the cup and adding some creamer and sugar. As I stirred the cup, he leant against my desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Something is bothering me if I’m honest.” he said.

“What is it?” I asked curiously.

“Mason said that you told him that you hate all footballers because we’re privileged and get too much clout for what we do.” He looked slightly disappointed in me. “Thing is, I don’t entirely disagree with you. Maybe we do get paid too much for what we do, and maybe doctors and nurses deserve way more praise than we do. I also don’t think that you hate all footballers. You were really kind to Blly yesterday and he won’t forget that in a hurry. You really helped him.” he continued.

“I don’t hate Billy, and I don’t think I hate you either.” I said quietly, taking a sip of my coffee.

“That is interesting.” he grinned, as he took one of my hands and guided me over to him, to stand in between his legs where he now sat on the edge of my desk.

Instinctively I put my coffee cup down and he put his arms around my waist.

“It’s interesting?-” he cut me off before I could say anything else, by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss is soft and gentle and lasts only a few seconds. He testing me and my brain is going in so many different directions. Am I actually going back on all of my principles and kissing a fucking footballer right now? And am I only doing it because he reminds me of my ex?

He moves to pull away, breaking the contact between our lips and I let out the tiniest whimper before putting my hand on the back of his head and pulling him back in for more. This time his tongue slips past my parted lips. My hand at the back of his head grips a generous handful of his hair and one of his hands makes its way to my bum.

My body feels like it is on fire. It has been a bloody long time since anyone kissed or touched me, and I hadn’t quite realised just how starved of affection I had been until I got a taste of it, a taste of him.

The telephone on my desk started to ring,and although I tried to ignore it, I just couldn’t. My job meant a lot to me and if it were Marina or someone of equal importance I would be chastised for missing the call.

We broke the kiss at the same time and I apologised to him. He grinned and fired back that I didn’t need to apologise and that he needed to get back to training, and by the time I picked up the phone, he was gone.

[victoria-daydreams]

Of Vices and Virtues

Chapter Ten: Old Wounds

AN: I really don’t know what to say here, other than enjoy!

Word Count: 4.3k

Trigger Warnings: unhealthy coping mechanisms?

Taglist: @azayamari

Chapter Eleven: Bottled Up

"Claudia," Erik called. "I'm bored,"

We were sitting in Central Park where I sat on a bench enjoying the fall season of New York. The sound of children playing freely with their parents was all around me, and I couldn't help but to wish that was the childhood I had. So carefree, so normal.

"And what does that have to do with me?" I asked, too immersed in my reading to look up.

"I'd figured that maybe you would entertain me," Erik suggested.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled before I continued my reading, switching from both hands holding the novel to my left hand holding it open as I bit the nail of my right thumb.

"If you wanted entertainment, you should have stayed with Moira and Charles to watch the musicians playing," I reminded dryly, finally looking up from my book and turning my head to follow the sound violins being played beautifully.

They played Bach and Handel, then they moved to Mozart, and then they played some pieces that I was unable to identify, possibly compositions of their own. Their fingers moved as if they were dancing over the necks of the violins, the notes filled the air. The sound of high pitched laughter broke the daze I had gone into and my eyes darted to the source of it. A smile graced my lips as I watched a group of children playing tag with each other.

Erik followed my gaze, "How you ever thought about it?" he asked, looking over at me.

"Thought about what?" I asked back, turning my head to him.

"Having children of your own?"

"Maybe," I answered, slightly shrugging my shoulders. "If the world wasn't so cruel," I continued, sighing heavily. "I wouldn't want to raise my child in an environment that hates them the moment they're born," I added, shaking my head. "What about you? Do you want children?" I questioned, closing my copy of The Great Gatsby.

"I do," Erik answered, and I raised my eyebrows in shock.

"Boy or girl?" I asked again, turning my body to face him.

"Girl,"

"Aww, who knew that someone like Erik Lehnsherr would want a little baby girl," I teased, a smile on my face and Erik just rolled his eyes at me. "She'll be in good hands and well taken care of, she'll have a better childhood than the both of us," I proposed, nodding my head with a grin.

We sat in silence for a moment, Erik, I could feel him watching me, but I was too preoccupied by staring off into space, chewing on my bottom lip. Thinking of what could have been with my own family.

"Bombing aside," Erik began pulling me back to reality. "Did you have a happy childhood?" he asked, draping his arm over the back of the park bench, his body now facing my own.

"Bombing aside," I repeated, cocking my head to the side. "I would say I had a decent childhood," I corrected. "Until I was seven," I remembered, my hand closing and forming a fist.

"What happened when you were seven?"

"I found out that I was different from most kids," I stated quietly, a tight-lipped smile appearing on my face.

A high pitched squeal escaped from my mouth as I kicked the ball back to my dad before I ran around our small backyard the grass tickling my feet. A wide smile on my face as my bare feet hit the cool green surface, my toes digging into the earth. A bright yellow spot caught my eye, surrounded by a sea of green grass. I forced myself to slow down and stopped at the yellow dot, bending down I realized it was a dandelion. My grin grew wider and I snatched it from the ground, raising up from the ground I turned to the back porch where my mom and grandma were residing.

"Mama, look!" I yelled, proudly displaying my dandelion.

Mama lifted her head up from the sleeping of bundle of my sister and smiled at me, "That's so pretty, Claudia!" Mama cheered, and I nodded my head vigorously in agreement.

"Claudia watch out!" Daddy shouted.

I turned my head immediately to the sound of his voice and the ball we had been kicking was on a straight path to my face. I let out a shriek and threw my hands out to protect myself. And just like that, it seemed like time froze. I peeked behind my raised arms and gasped, the ball hadn't hit me, instead the ball was suspended in midair surrounded in a pretty shade of violet. Confused, I lowered my arms and was shocked to see the ball slowly coming closer to the ground as I moved my arms down; I was controlling whatever force held it. I lowered the ball to the ground gently, before releasing the force around the ball.

"Mama, Daddy! Did you see what I did?" I asked excitedly.

No one answered me. It was dead quiet and I swallowed nervously, as I looked at my parents and Grandma. Mama had her hand covering her mouth and her eyes were wide open, filling up with tears. Seconds later Daddy was at my side. Grandma got to her knees, before clasping her hands together and began praying quietly.

"Claudia, what did you do?" Mama asked, in the most frightened tone I had ever heard her use.

"I knew my parents were horrified, even my father, although he never let it show. I mean why wouldn't he be. What I could do...it wasn't exactly normal behavior," I recalled, a mirthless laugh escaping my mouth.

"They didn't disown you, I hope?" Erik asked, a frown appearing on his face.

"Luckily, they didn't. Could you imagine throwing your seven year-old daughter out the house?" I speculated, knitting my eyebrows together. "That would be horrific!" I exclaimed.

"What did your parents do after witnessing your ability? How did they react?" Erik questioned.

"They told me they loved me regardless..." I trailed off.

Daddy knelt down in front of me and grasped my small shoulders, inspecting me closely, "Claudia…sweetheart…Mama and I want you to stay quiet about this. Alright?"

I frowned at what Daddy asked, "But why? It's amazing and so pretty!"

Mama knelt down beside Daddy and gave me a small, sad smile, "Yes, it is. But you have to understand something...sometimes...people get scared of things they don't understand," Mama explained gently.

I tilted my head to the side as I processed what Mama just said, "Why would people be scared?"

"That's hard to explain, honey. Personally...we don't know of anyone that has a...gift...like you do. If you showed others, they may react badly to it and they might hurt you," Mama tried to further explain to me.

I looked down at the ground. I had noticed Mama's hesitation about using the word gift. It made me wonder. "Are you scared of me now?"

At my question, both Mama and Daddy embraced me tightly. "No. No we're not," Daddy said with conviction.

"But you didn't believe them, did you?"

"You know what? I did actually. It was what my Grandma said that made questioned my parents true feelings about my mutation," I admitted.

"What did she say?"

"She told me that one day there will be a cure for me," I spat, recalling my Grandma's words. "I thought that would be the worst thing she would say to me, but oh how wrong I was," I went on, shaking my head.

"I take it you developed your empathic powers soon after," Erik guessed.

I nodded, "Two weeks had barely passed after my telekinetic incident, when I started to get these horrible headaches," I explained, my expression darkening. "That's when I began to pick up on emotions that weren't mine. I had told my parent's that I could feel their emotions as they passed through their minds. Of course, at first, they assumed I was playing around but after proving my talent to them both, they were shaken," I added.

I shook my head again, thinking back to how it had taken my family quite a while to get used to my empathy. To realize that a pain in your chest caused by the anguish that suddenly rose from no where was not your own, but someone else's. It was a violation in a way, and one that made my family hesitant to be near me.

"My grandma turned completely hostile toward me. In an attempt to get rid of me, my grandma suggested that they send me to psych ward because I was having a a mental breakdown," I stated, crinkling my noise in disgust while shaking my head. "God Erik, why did you ruin this beautiful day by making me recall my childhood," I groaned, running hand through my hair. "Now I actually need some entertainment," I mentioned, standing up from the wooden bench and walking away from him.

"Claudia, wait," Erik called, and I could hear his footsteps jogging behind me. "Come on, you know that was never my intention," he reasoned, falling in line with my stride.

Sighing, I looked over at him and nodded my head, "I know," I agreed. "You know I can be over dramatic," I breathed, my lips quirking up into a small smile.

A cool breeze blew through the trees of Central Park, bringing with it a flurry of freshly fallen leaves which stood a stark contrast to flocks of lively birds making their way steadily northward. My eyes scanned my surroundings, people were about the park as always, going about their business as only New Yorkers truly could.

"Erik," I began, sliding my book into my coat pocket. "Do you think I'm going crazy?" I asked randomly, facing him again

He cocked an eyebrow and laughed, "What? No," Erik answered, shaking his head with a smile. "I haven't seen one sign that you're losing your mind," he continued, his smile widening. "A strange question to ask Claudia, I have to say," Erik stated, with a chuckle.

I shrugged, "I have a feeling that Charles thinks I'm going crazy," I theorized, interlocking my fingers together behind my back.

"Don't be ridiculous Claudia," Erik grinned. "What would ever make you think that?" he inquired, letting out a hearty laugh.

"Why else do you think we took this impromptu trip here?" I pointed out, unlinking my fingers and sticking my hand in front of me. "He means wells, but all because I was distant two days ago, he's been like a mother hen," I complained, beginning to fiddle with the amber charm of my necklace. "Always watching me from over my shoulder and monitoring me. I haven't been able to really use my empathic powers because all Charles wants to do is focus on my telekinesis," I finished, a slight scowl appearing on my face.

"Here's a crazy thought, maybe he's just worried about you, Claudia," Erik replied sarcastically. "You have been a lot training these past two days, one would say too hard. You're not eating a lot, I noticed that you're up later than you usually are," he listed, ticking them off with his fingers. "Not to mention your temper has been shorter than usual," Erik remembered.

"I am not up late," I argued, knowing that the dark circles underneath my eyes I hid beneath my makeup showed all of the signs of restless night's sleep. "Nor have I been short of temper lately," I insisted, crossing my arms together.

"You cut your lights off at 11:00 pm on the dot every night. Recently, your lights have been on up until 1:00 am," Erik deadpanned, giving me a knowing look and my brow rose. "Yes, I've noticed that," he added, answering my silent question.

I really couldn't help myself from asking, "Oh, so you notice things about me?" I questioned grinning. "Because usually I have to tell you when you should look for something," I added, still grinning.

Erik rolled his eyes and laughed, "I notice things about everyone," he replied, and then looked at me slyly. "But I maybe paying some...extra attention to you,"

We proceeded down the walkway not sure where I wanted to go, but I wanted to be somewhere. I came across one of the many fountains in Central Park and lowered my hand into the water and ran the tips of my fingers over it. A thought crossed my mind and I lifted my hand, flicking water at Erik and drew back from the onslaught of the water droplets.

"You're such a child," Erik commented, his lips curving into a smile as he went to grab for my hand which I easily spun away from.

"I try to be," I smiled back.

I moved off the cement path and walked onto the seemingly endless lawn of the park. I made my way further onto the grass until we come near a thick grove of oak trees interspersed with some hearty pines. There were people spread out all over the field of all sorts, around the clearing's edges parents watched their children idly. Women read magazines or gossiped with one another while men ate their lunches or smoked amongst the trees, college students were laid on picnic blankets or throwing a football around.

Sticking my hand out I began to trace the rough bark of the tree next to me, beginning to walk in a circle. I closed my eyes and let my hand guide me around the tree, circling the tree twice in blissful content.

"May I ask what you're doing?" Erik asked, stopping me in my tracks and I opened my eyes, he was standing next to me, an amused expression painted on his face.

I glanced at him and smirked, "Whatever I want I suppose," I answered, continuing on my path around the tree.

Erik began to circle the tree as well only he went the opposite way, "And what is it that you want Miss Walker?" he inquired.

"I'm in need of some entertainment, just like you," I answered, turning around to meet Erik in front of the tree. He abruptly stopped once he saw me, our fingers brushed together momentarily before I leaned my back against the tree, looking at him with a mischievous grin.

"What are you about to do?"

"That man can't remember if it's his wife's birthday or their anniversary," I informed, still grinning.

I pointed to a bald middle-aged man who walked to the right of us with a confused, thoughtful look on his face.

Erik continued to look at me confused, "What?"

I slid my hands into my coat pockets jut as another gust of the autumn breeze swept past me, causing me to shiver and sigh contentedly as it ruffled my dark hair. I closed my eyes for a split second before opening them.

"That woman, over there? Found out that her boyfriend was cheating on her. Nice right hook, that one," I commented smirking, before shifting gaze away from the woman. "And that man..." I trailed off, as he happened to look back to where we were.

He was a tall, young man probably the same age I was, his blond hair was tousled most likely from the breeze which framed his blue eyes along with his square jaw. He shot me a wonky grin and I just smirked and wiggled my fingers giving him a small wave as I stared into his eyes, scrapping what I had originally planned to do and formulating a new way to have some fun.

"What are you doing?" Erik murmured from beside me.

"Just watch,"

Suddenly, the football he had been previously throwing came sailing back towards him and striking him on the back of the head. The man flinched and let out a groan of pain, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey man, what the hell!" he exclaimed. His friend glanced over at me, seeing that I'm the reason why the blond-haired man didn't see the football coming. "Are you blind? Why didn't you hold the ball?" he asked angrily, storming over to his friend.

"Relax Aaron," the friend snickered. "Stop ogling at a girl and pay attention next time," he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

"You've got a problem, Luke?" Aaron asked, getting up in his friend's face.

"No, I think you have a problem," Luke said, shoving Aaron away from him.

I turned my head to Erik, "Are you entertained?" I asked grinning proudly, and Erik let out a short laugh.

I suddenly became aware of another presence near me and my head turned and gazed up at Charles.

"There you two are, everyone was wondering where you had gone off to," Charles greeted, a relieved smile on his face. "What are you two doing?" he asked curiously, his eyes bouncing between Erik and I.

"Oh, we're just watching a bit of entertainment," I answered, a smirk on my face. "Right Erik?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"That would be correct," Erik confirmed.

Charles looked over at me and followed my gaze, watching the shoving match between the two men.

"Oh my God, Claudia please don't tell me this is your doing?" Charles questioned, his eyes back on me now.

I turned my head to Charles, his was mouth set in a firm grimace, "What can I say? We were bored," I explained nonchalantly, with a shrug.

"That's enough Claudia, you've had your fun now," Charles declared.

"Hold on Charles, I think she's onto something," Erik disagreed, raising his index finger up. "No one is even paying attention to them," Erik pointed out.

"I'll never not be amazed with my powers," I remarked, looking around at people going about their day not noticing the fight happening in front of their eyes. "A little inducement of calmness works wonders," I mused, folding my arms together.

Within a blink of the eye, Aaron swung his fist out and it connected with Luke's face, sending him to the ground.

"Hell of a right hook," I observed, as Aaron got on top of Luke to continue his pummeling.

"Claudia!"

"You know Erik, I once made a man punch himself," I informed, glancing over at him. "One night I had this drunk customer screaming in my face, and I grew angry enough that I imagined punching him, and he somehow punched himself," I recounted, thinking back to my diner job as a teenager.

"Impressive," Erik chuckled.

"You should see what happens when I sing, with my power," I boasted, walking ahead a little bit to get a closer look at the two men on the ground.

I went to take another step forward, but hand held me back, keeping a tight hold onto my wrist. I looked back to see who the culprit was just as the wind gently ruffled my hair as I met the stern stare of a dreamy blue-eyed familiar face.

"Claudia, stop it," Charles demanded, his voice dropping an octave.

Sighing, I finally gave in, "Fine," I agreed, turning my head back to the men and restored their peaceful state of mind.

Charles glanced at Erik and I for a moment, and we all share a look.

"Let's go," Charles ordered.

~~~x~~~

"Hey, do you know what's wrong with Charles?" Raven asked, as she pushed the barbell up and back onto the rack. "He's been upset ever since we came back from the park," she commented, maneuvering her way from under the bar and sitting up.

I paused mid crunch and relaxed, looking between my legs to look at Raven, "Yes," I answered, sitting up and hugging my knees. "I'm the reason he's upset," I confessed, and Raven's eyes widened. "I did something that made Charles quite upset," I explained, pushing away the fly-away hairs escaping my bun.

Raven crossed her arms and wandered over to me, "Claudia Walker making Charles Xavier mad, I never thought that I'd see the day," Raven quipped, before sticking her hand out to help me up.

"Neither did I," I stated, shaking my head.

"I wouldn't worry, Charles can't stay mad at you. He likes you too much," Raven reminded with a giggle, as I grabbed her hand and she pulled me up.

The sudden motion made me feel dizzy, I slowly walked over to the towel basket and plucked one out, "I don't know Raven, he seemed pretty upset," I doubted, dabbing the cloth against my face and closed my eyes trying to stabilize myself.

"What did you do?" she asked curiously.

Opening my eyes as my vision had stopped spinning, I removed the towel from my face, "I made these two men fight for entertainment," I explained, and Raven’s brows raised. "Erik and I wanted entertainment, we had gotten bored at the park," I continued, beginning to leave the room. "Do you know where I can Charles? I should probably go make things right," I added.

"In the library, most likely. Where else would he be?" Raven joked, and I nodded my head in agreement and laughed before exiting the gym.

I wrapped the towel around my neck and made way down the hall admiring the paintings on the wall as I headed to the library. The door to the library was cracked, slowly pushing it open revealed Charles standing in front of the window. I walked quietly into the room but he didn't turn around, he simply waited for whoever had entered to speak first. Out of the corner of Charles' eye he saw me move to stand beside him, still not saying a word.

At last, I broke the silence, "It's clear that you're upset with me," I began, searching his face for a reaction, but there wasn't one.

"How about disappointed?" he corrected, still looking out the window. I turned to look at him again and I was surprised to find his face free of anger, his face was calm. "You could have seriously injured those men Claudia. Worst, you could have killed them," Charles stated grimly, staring at me.

Backing away from where Charles stood, I sat down on top of the sofa, "Oh, come on, I wouldn't have let it get to that point," I answered, crossing my arms and returning Charles' stare.

He turned all the way around to face me, "It should have never happened in the first place!" Charles argued, slightly raising his voice. "Why on God's green earth would make those men fight?" he questioned, throwing his hands up.

"For fun, I suppose," I answered, with a slight shrug.

Charles scoffed, "That's your definition of fun? he asked incredulously.

"Fun is interpreted differently from person to person," I countered.

"No, I don't believe that's the whole story. I have never seen use your powers so irresponsibly. What is going on with you?" Charles asked again, walking towards me.

I pushed off the sofa, "You have been mother henning me for two days straight and I'm at my wits end here! I needed a release!" I snapped, spreading my arms out. "I'm not myself for one day, and for two days you have constantly been over my shoulder like I'm some fragile-" I continued pointing my finger, until another wave of dizziness me, this time stronger than before.

I felt myself falling as my vision slightly darkened, but a pair of arms caught me before I fell to the floor.

"Hey, I got you, I got you," Charles repeated softly, my head leaning against his chest. He lowered us to the ground slowly, "I'm going to pick you up, alright," he announced, before hooking his arms underneath my legs and slowly lifting me up. He walked over to the front of the sofa and placed me down onto the plush cushions. "Good thing I've been a mother hen, right?" Charles asked smiling, his hand brushing away a stray lock of hair from my face.

"I guess it paid off in the end," I conceded, smiling weakly as Charles sat on the edge of the sofa.

He placed the back of his hand against my forehead and frowned, "Claudia, you're burning up," he noted, removing his hand. "I knew you were pushing yourself too hard these past two days," he continued, placing each of his hands down on the cushions on either side of my waist. "Why didn't you tell me, love?" Charles asked quietly.

He was tense, his hands were clenched into fist by my side, I lifted my arm and soothingly rubbed his arm and felt the muscles in his arm slowly release some of their tension. His blue eyes met mine and he relaxed a little more.

"I thought I could push through it, I've done it before," I explained, giving him a small smile in an attempt to make him feel more at ease. "I really didn't want you to start smothering me anymore," I added, a short laugh erupting from me.

Charles shook his head gazing down at me with worried eyes, "Yes, and look where it's gotten you right now," he remarked, shaking his head once more. "You are so guarded at times Claudia, you've got to learn that not everyone wants to hurt you. I want to help you, I truly do. But I can't do anything unless you can accept that," Charles stated.

I was shocked by his bluntness and stared at him in shock, being quiet for several moments and looking away. When I didn't answer, Charles reached for my hand and held my hand in his.

"Do you trust me Claudia?" Charles asked softly.

It was such a simple question, yet I knew it meant a lot more to Charles...and myself. I stared up at him saw the genuine concern written across his features, and knew that what he told me was true.

"You're the first person I have trusted in years, Charles," I admitted softly.

The telepath gave me the most adorable, beautiful grin of relief, "I'm honored," Charles answered, and lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the palm of it. The simple gesture made my stomach flip. "Let's get you some rest, yeah?" he suggested, nodding his head toward the door.

Chapter Twelve: What Are These Feelings?

[unknownblanked]

Shameless self promotion

Main character: OC

Pairings: OC x Reborn

My fic:

*Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn*

*Rating M*

Summary: I have never wanted anything other than to be a boss. Sorry dear brother of mine, but I will become a better boss than you would ever become. Warning: M for a reason, not for innocent souls. 2 days updates

Kinda BL since MC who used to be a girl became a guy after transmigration. But idk what to even say at this point

Genre: fantasy/adventure/romance

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13908034/1/

First chapter preview:

Chapter 1

"Eff you! Eff me! Eff the world!" She shrieked with her lungs, hand pointed at the sky.

"I wanna hold guns and look cool in suits! I wanna be pardoned by university to become a boss! I wanna have a gang while playing background music!"

"IF I EVER REINCARNATE TO KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN, I'LL BECOME VONGOLA DECIMOOOOOOOO!"

Darkness enveloped her as she sunk deeper into the abyss, not knowing what was going on after that flash that blinded her eyes. Could it be isekai truck-kun? She scoffed at her own words, not believing a single thing that came out of her own thoughts. She felt a shuffle, then a thump as her whole world lifted in the air. Suddenly, a baby's cry chortled beside her, screaming.

What was going on? Was she being carried into some kind of ambulance? A hospital? Did she give birth-What? But she was still 19 years old and never touched a man's hand! The baby's cry grew louder, almost piercing her in the ears.

Was it even possible for her to remain conscious even though she couldn't open her eyes? She tried lifting her eyelids, but it remained glued shut, as if this impenetrable force was clamping down her eyes, telling her not to look.

A waft of air blew on her chest.

"[Papa! Look at them! Twins!]"

A woman's voice rang out loudly, but her tone was soft and melodic as the sounds of humans floated into her ears.

'...Japanese?'

"[Ah, but one isn't crying.]"

A man's voice rang out this time in front of her as she tried deciphering the words with all her experiences of watching anime for over 10 years. Crying? Did the man just say that 'one isn't crying?' Was he pointing to someone in the room?

She felt her whole world tip over before trying to flail, confusion ringing inside her mind before-

Slap!

"Waaaaaaaaah!"

'What the eff, bro?!'

She felt so sensitive-so...naked!

'Call my lawyer! I will sue you till you don't even have the freedom of speech! Lawyer! Lawyer!'

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalw!" She yelped her syllables that couldn't pop out of her mouth and tried again.

"Wawawawa-"

Something was weird. Very weird.

"[I think we've got ourselves a little weirdo from the get-go!]"

Her butt stung as she tried blinking her eyes, gasping twice and shaking her head to wake her up from this bad dream. Her vision stung the moment she did, lights blinding her as she screamed again, trying to bat away the light with her flimsy small fists. Through her blurry vision, she saw a man grinning from ear to ear before throwing her over his shoulder and patting her on the back. She humped, dry launching from the action as the woman's soft laughter rang from behind as her own eyes closed shut again.

What did she see? She didn't see clearly, but the world was so...colorful.

"[I think I have a name for this little weirdo already!]"

Name? What name? What the hell were these two strangers talking about? And why in the hell was she able to understand Japanese so clearly? And they messed up her pronouns-and-

She tried hard, fighting her clamped eyes, 'Almost there!'

"Sawada Isago! Golden dust for my career!"

Isago slammed his eyes open, blinking rapidly at the man who was now throwing his small body into the air, his golden-amber eyes completely dazzling Isago.

"Waah da dak."

His first words were swear words in English.

She stared absentmindedly out the front porch. No, he stared absentmindedly out the front porch this fine morning. The sky was bright blue while Isago glanced at the buzzing street of Namimori, a small town located at the edges of Japan. In the corner of his eyes, he saw a small bird land on one of the tree branches before someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Isa..go! Let's play!" Tsuna smiled sweetly at his younger brother, holding up his teddy in one hand. They were at the young age of four, Tsuna being born just minutes earlier than Isago. They seemed like twins, but one preferred a shorter hairstyle than the other, and their hair was in different colours.

"Hm...sure! What do you want to play?" Isago answered like how a four-year-old should and pushed himself onto his feet. Tsuna squeezed his teddy, pondering a bit before tilting his head to the side.

Tsuna was exactly the same in the anime, with spiky brown hair and brown eyes that shone brightly in the sun, his soft features held more of some baby fat than what was portrayed in the graphics, but still, Tsuna resembled Vongola Primo.

'Definitely a descendant of the Vongola family,' Isago quirked his lips as Tsuna explained his game of hide and seek, except the purpose was to hide and find teddy.

"Sure!" Isago chirped, holding his hand out for the teddy. "I'll go first then, since you never do, Tsuna."

Tsuna beamed brightly at his younger brother, giving his teddy over before Isago pointed to a wall in the corner of the room and Tsuna plodded over, covering his eyes as he started to count down from 100. Isago smiled slightly, tip-toeing to the washroom and turning on the lights to hide the teddy behind the rows and rows of shampoo bottles in one of the cupboards.

Isago frowned a bit when he realized that he couldn't reach the board, placed the teddy on the table and walked to the toilet that was beside the sink. He stepped onto the toilet, using it as his stepping stone and slammed his small hands onto the table, heaving himself upwards. Snatching the teddy from the original spot, Isago opened the cupboard and organized the bottles as a coverup, arranging the bottles so that not even the ears of the brown toy were visible from an adult's point of view.

Isago stepped down the table, plopping quietly onto his feet before listening to the countdown from Tsuna's mouth at the number 40. Isago smiled carefully, closing the lights as his gold eyes flashed through the mirror once, and Isago made his way to Tsuna's bedroom. Mom was cooking in the kitchen and humming about dad's arrival today.

Isago had retained his father's golden eyes, and yet had a shade of mocha as his hair color. Neither dad nor mom had the hair color, but Nana assumed that it was because her predecessor's hair color was close to black in the past. In contrast to Tsuna's spiky hair, Isago had flatter hair and was long, to the point that it was possible to tie it into a semi-ponytail. He had bangs covering the front in a slanted way, almost completely contrasting to Tsuna's cute and fluffy hair. Well, not that it mattered to Isago.

What was concerning to Isago, was that he was born as a boy.

"Ready or not, here I come!"

Isago heard Tsuna call from the bottom of the stairs before his small footsteps plattered onto the wood. Isago stared momentarily at the door before purposefully closing it and plopping down on Tsuna's bed. The bedsheets ruffled, crinkling a bit and Isago stared at his own crotch.

What the heck, this was so weird to have. It was so tiring to constantly have a thing dangling in between his legs. Even though it didn't hurt or feel uncomfortable, this new addition was a very mind-blowing...experience. Manspreading was also a new thing.

"Isago…?" Tsuna's face peeped into his own room and giggled before skipping over to his brother. "You must have placed teddy here!"

"I don't know," Isago replied with a small smirk. "Why don't you try and find it?"

"Teddy! Teddy!" Tsuna called cutely as if the bear was able to reply back to him.

"Tsuna, if you can find it then I'll ask mom to make your favourite Salisbury steak that she only makes when dad comes home!" Isago called as Tsuna's eyes fired up intensely.

"Steak! Steak! Steak!" Tsuna batted his fists on his crouched knees and started to chant it like some kind of song. Joy could be seen all over his face as he rustled his piles of stuff in the closet, then turned over to his desk and started rummaging in the drawers.

"Steak, steak, steaky, steak-"

Isago smiled secretly, knowing that Tsuna had no knowledge of dad coming home today. Honestly, Isago didn't know what to describe his dad. A good dad? No, he left his wife basically widowed from the moment they were born. A bad dad? You couldn't say that either.

Then again, mama never worked, so it was plausible to think that the house was bought and supplied with money from dad every year. Not to mention that the house was quite large for a family of three. Dad was probably also preparing the house to be the main hideout for the future Vongola.

"Iemitsu Sawada, huh?" Isago murmured his dad's name under his lips.

There was a reason why his dad stationed his family near the unknown town of Namimori. It was probably in order to protect them from the mafia. So in the end, was he a good dad? Isago watched Tsuna's fluffy hair swish in the lights as the sound of tires echoed into the neighborhood.

Isago lifted his eyebrows at the sound, turning his head to Tsuna's open window to see a short black car parked a few meters away from the Sawada residence. Isago stood up slowly, walking towards the window and hopped onto a small step box and leaned on the wall, crossing his arms together as he peered outside.

"Tsuna, let's rank this game harder. You have exactly 100 seconds like the countdown to find your teddy, or else the promise is off," Isago turned to Tsuna who's eyes widened like saucers, gasping before throwing his hands into the depths of his drawers.

"That's not fair, Isago!" The boy whimpered as Isago started to count the numbers from 100, forcing the small boy to sweat. Inside, Isago spotted a blond head popping out of the driver's seat.

The man was wearing orange overalls that were only pulled onto his waist. His dirty sweatshirt was worn in a fashion that showed his armpit hair clearly even from far away. The sight was disgusting.

"Men," Isago made a face, recognizing that it was his father. "66...67...68...69…"

"Isago! Slow down!" Tsuna wailed and rummaged through his toy box, tears streaming down his face at the decreasing numbers. Iemitsu pulled a construction hat out of the front side, then walked to the passenger's seat, opening the door to reveal another man wearing a blue vacation shirt with pink flowers on it.

The man stepped out of the car, smiling widely at his assistant who passed him a straw hat. As if the man noticed, his eyes flashed to the window, meeting the gaze of Isago. There was curiosity and wonder that passed through the male's eyes, but then greeted the child by lifting his hat and giving a salute which Isago returned with a polite nod.

'Vongola ninth,' Isago addressed the man quickly, curling his lips at the status before turning back to Tsuna, the numbers ending with the last count of zero.

"Isaaaagoo!" Tsuna sobbed into his long-sleeved sweater, sniffing as the sleeve soaked up his snot. "I couldn't find it-I'm sorry!"

Isago's eyes softened at the small boy, hopping down from the stepping box before crouching next to Tsuna who was on his knees.

"Tsuna, Tsuna, why are you sorry?" Isago patted Tsuna on the shoulders. Tsuna threw his arm down, staring at Isago who had a soft smile on his face.

"Be-because Isago's favorite...also steak…" the young boy blew his wet cheeks and Isago chuckled, pulling his brother into a large hug. That was not exactly true, Isago's favourite was sweet parfaits rather than savory main course meals, but Nana had never brought the two to a sweets cafe so Isago had made up his preferences to match Tsuna's.

"How about this, I'll magically transform the steak onto the table if you promise me one thing," Isago patted Tsuna who blew into his shoulder. Momentarily, Isago made a face of disgust, but once thinking that they were from the same blood, a smile was forcefully plastered onto his soft features.

Tsuna also realized his own misdoings, instantly freezing before wiping his own sleeve on Isago's shoulder, trying to correct the snot, only to make it smear even wider on the hoodie.

"I'll have to change my clothes," Isago sighed before pushing Tsuna away and walking to his own room. Tsuna followed like an abandoned puppy. His two fingers fiddled as he watched Isago pull his T-shirt off, and grabbed a random sweater before pulling it over his head.

"Mm sorry Isago…" Tsuna trailed off, staring guilty on the ground as Isago's head emerged out. "I will promise anything that you want! Forever!"

'What a dangerous promise, Tsuna,' Isago's eyes glimmered before turning towards his brother. The shadows in his room casted upon Isago's face as his grin widened almost too maliciously.

"Then promise me Tsuna, no matter what the circumstance you must not harm me. If you do, then our relationship as brothers are over." Isago's hair fell over his eyes as he brushed it back, getting a clear look at the boy's small face.

"Harm?" Tsuna tilted his head curiously at the word, repeating to make sure he pronounced it correctly. "What's that?"

"It means that I will be gone from your life forever, Tsuna," Isago's voice deepen with glee at the horror that flashed through the boy's face. Tsuna's hands instantly clutched the sides of his shorts, shaking his head furiously.

"I will never harm you! I will never! Never!"

"Good," Isago walked closer to his dear brother, jerking his thumb under Tsuna's teary eyes. The young boy looked fragile and broken at Isago's words, almost as if he couldn't imagine living without Isago.

"Because I love you so much that it may serve as a double-edged sword to both of us," Isago gave little Tsuna a small peck on his cheeks, smirking at Tsuna's pouting face as his fingers clutched the edges of Isago's sweater.

"I wove you too," Tsuna buried his face into his brother's sweater, murmuring the phrase until the front door was pushed open and mama's clear voice rang through the house, calling the two boys down.

It was true, Tsuna was a precious little brother to Isago, even if Tsuna was legally the older one. But that didn't matter in front of power. If Tsuna stood in the way of succession, then Isago would cut off Tsuna's arms and legs to prevent Tsuna from overtaking the throne. That was how cold-hearted Isago was.

But then again, was Isago able to do it?

That's why Isago would give Tsuna the choice. He would not harm Tsuna until his own brother decided that Isago was a threat to the family and his life. He would let Tsuna break their relationship, and make him wallow in despair. As long as Tsuna loved him, Isago would let him go. But if Tsuna disobeyed, then everything will be over.

"Come on, brother," Isago gestured towards the door, stepping forward with Tsuna holding him. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Iemitsu was grinning at both boys, arms extended.

"Weirdo Isago! TsunaTsuna! Papa is back home!"

The two boys huddled over to their papa, Tsuna waddling towards him while Isago was pulled into a large embrace, dad's hand ruffling in his hair as Isago grinned at the man. The smell of sweat and tobacco filled Isago's nostrils, instantly making him suppress a sour face at his own father. Mama giggled at the family reunion while Isago's eyes trailed to her, gesturing for a group hug.

"Oh, dear!" Mama threw herself into the group hug and Iemitsu kissed her sloppily on the cheeks, rubbing her face with fondness. It was then Tsuna noticed a stranger behind dad, smiling sweetly at the family after Tsuna opened his mouth with quivering fear.

"Oh, Tsuna! Don't worry, this is Timoteo-" Dad looked over at the grandfather figure, releasing all of us as he gestured politely at the man. "-My boss."

"Welcome!" Nana grinned, lowering her body into a 90-degree bow. "Thank you for taking care of my husband all this time!"

Isago glanced towards his mom, then followed, repeating the same words of thanks. Tsuna only stood there, confused and not knowing what to do and hid behind his mother, clutching her apron.

"Tsuna!" Mom bickered with a sigh but smiled soon afterwards. She patted me on the head as a 'good job' before apologizing for her son's imprudence.

"That isn't a problem," Timoteo said, softening his eyes at us before crouching down to our eye level. "I have to thank you for having such a wonderful father that I can trust."

'Of course, you're literally naming his son as successor,' Isago thought bitterly before pulling Tsuna out from behind mom. 'So who is it going to be? Tsuna, or me?'

Vongola ninth had to choose between the two of them because they were the only ones that would be left in the Vongola bloodline. If what Isago remembered was correct, there was more than one successor to the Vongola line, but they all died, which left Tsuna being the only one that could inherit the family.

Tsuna's hand started to quake before Isago squeezed it reassuringly, giving him a small nudge. Tsuna was still hesitating so Isago started first.

"I'm Isago, this is Tsuna, my older brother!" He deliberately said, lowering his head as Tsuna, this time, followed his younger brother's lead.

"Oh, he's the older one, huh?" Timoteo turned his gentle gaze towards the older brother and nodded. Isago pleaded that they were going to leave the throne of successor to the worthy, not the older. Isago was going to prove himself worthy, prove himself, to be a better leader than his brother.

Tsuna was not suited as a leader, maybe in the long run of taking care of his family members, yes, but Isago was more of a leader in the expanding and influential way.

'Give the role of successor to me, and I will hold Vongola to its glory. I will make Vongola the strongest in history, and it will flourish more than the past ten generations combined.'

Isago wanted the Vongola position. He wanted it desperately.

As if Timoteo could hear Isago's thoughts, the grandfather's eyes turned to the younger sibling, staring at him hard. Isago didn't move his eyes, only stared back and tried to convey the message through his gaze.

'Give it to me, I want it. I need it.'

Timoteo's gaze deepened, opening his mouth to say something as conflict passed through his face, then clamped his mouth shut. Iemitsu, sensing that something was sort of amidst, invited his boss into the house, telling the group that he was famished. Nana gasped, pardoning her forgetfulness before guiding the guest to the table.

Isago let go of the breath he held inside, looking towards Tsuna who was staring at the grandfather.

[honestsycrets]

Pay the Bill I: The Stranger and the Friend

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader (mob au)

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | church girl (Y/N) heads to the car with her niece to wait for her aunt. but she can’t help overhearing someone in need of help...

❛  warnings | mob au, nongraphic murder (i think)

❛ sy’s notes | i was gonna make this a one shot but I was having too much fun! Moster : aunt on mother’s side

Your aunt’s little two-story church on 24th street is smack in the middle of busy downtown. There’s a rundown pizza parlor around the corner where all the youth go after service, skipping down cracked sidewalks with pockets full of coin, bantering about their newest love interest or the hottest shade of lipstick. You shift in a rich wine dress, swishing the line of your dress in excitement for going home, kicking off your heels and sitting in the front of the warm brick fireplace with your niece.

“Did you turn off the air?” You ask your aunt, starting down the side door’s steps in a dress that was vibrant blue like the hue of her bright eyes. Your adoptive cousin stands-- bothered by something, he begins to lowly consult her. She throws you the heavy ring of keys.

“Go ahead of me, doll. Start the car.”

You catch them, fumbling with your poor skills. You can tell that you’ll be out in the cold a while. Your aunt has a way of talking round and round like a record and making people listen. Flurries of snow limit your view. Your fur coat affords you warmth with its muddy brown hairs. It would be a cold-ass day. The sooner you got home, the better. In your other hand, you hold your niece Marie, hopping in puffy white plastic shoes over puffs of snow. You bring your coat around your chest with chocolate gloves that match your mary janes.

“Get him the fuck up,” a voice says just outside the gated parking lot. A man’s voice: rumbling loud. You puff out frothy cold winter air while clicking toward your aunt’s car, glancing up to the brick wall beside you. An advert: enlist now for overseas service! A young man rushes to the mainline, his rifle prepped and ready for battle.

“Easy, easy big boy.”

“Please, please, please!”

You jangle the keys, stopping and standing upright at a man’s blubbering cries. There’s a loud rumble of the men beside him, boozing and having a few laughs at his expense. You can’t make him out behind the group of finely dressed men gathered.

“Moster?” Marie squeaks.

You tighten your hand around her, popping the car open putting her in her plush seat. You take up a warm maroon blanket and settle it around her shoulders. Mind your own business, you think. Your mother told you to mind your own business. This man? None of your business. Marie is your only line of business. You’d tell yourself that to death. But there was a tug-- damn religion and morals, telling you that he needed you.

“We’re just going to wait for Aunt Sella.”

“Where is it?” The man booms.

Marie turns her bright blue eyes to the door as you hop in, turning the heat on. She holds the hand of a monkey named Jo, one that you had made her yourself. “Are they gonna hurt him?”

Bless the words of a child. You search for the right words, finding there are none. Your hands shift around the steering wheel, flexing in those chocolaty gloves. Mor told you to mind your own business. Sella… she would have… She would have been right up there, swinging her finger around and telling them what for.

“Sweetheart I… No,” you shift around, fixing your skirt. “They ain’t. Now you just wait right here.”

Marie squeaks, Aunt (Y/N) saves the day!

The reality feels much different as you step out of that car. Your freezing feet carry you off the icy sidewalk, skidding closer to the fray. You straighten your coat, elevate your jawline, and press on. Your fingers dig into sleek suit jackets, a tug and a rip pulling each thug away from the middle.

The crumpled near-naked man is over the man’s sleek black shoe. He stands with a discordant frown, the barrel of his gun downcast toward the man’s head. More time, he begs, all I needed was some more time.

“Gave ya all the time ya needed, Solvasson.”

Solvasson weeps ugly tears against his boot. That’s when you move for better or worse and pull your chocolaty coat off your shoulders. The one your youngest sister brought you from Paris. She told you to keep it well. Then, kneeling at his feet you cover the man’s shoulders with the warm coat.

“Who the fuck is this--” another man asks, leaning from the sleek vehicle that blocked the street from the opposing direction.

“Are you okay, sir?”

“Wha-- whaa--- what?” He looks up, seeming to recognize you. Mr. Solvasson, the butcher who always donned his daughters in the finest of finery. “Miss (L/N), (L/N) no. Go home.”

A man wrenches you from the floor, forcing you to stand upright. This poverty-stricken street is otherwise abandoned. Church has been out a good while. Everyone would be hiding from the snow-- you can’t rationalize why these men would be making a scene in public. Unless… the thought hits you.

“You’re The Heathens,” you say. “The ones in the papers. Shooting men... outside churches.”

You take your first real good look at the man harassing the butcher. He shifts on his fine polished dress shoes, shoving one of his slender hands into the pocket of a slender and well-fitted suit. His lapel holds a lily in place. His tie made of silk fitted into his dark vest. He’s dressed to the nines-- and any woman would find the wonder in a man who could dress up.

“You know him?” He runs his hand through the long honey-colored top, then down his shaved side again. The man from the car speaks-- your lips roll in trepidation under the weight of his words.

“Kill them both and let’s get on with it.”

Your heels click in the snow. “Wait-- you can’t do that! He has a family.”

“Not for long,” the man inside the car says. His bright blue eyes derive some heathenous glee from the words as if he’s pleasured by the concept of slaughtering an entire family for the sins of one.

“Shut up Ivar.” The brunet man says, “It’s my business.” You stutter forward when the man extends his arm out again, cocking his gun toward the shivering bundle at his feet.

“But what has he done?!”

“Oh he owes me a whole lotta money,” the man says. You recognize him. A handsome jawline, twinkling green eyes. He’s the same man that used to pop up at Mr. Solvassons while you would order a hunk of pork for Christmas day. “A whole lotta money he can’t pay back.”

You rip from the man holding you, reaching out to grasp the man’s hand. You can smell the cologne on his collar, his playful green eyes shifting to meet yours when you say those few fateful words. “Then let me pay it!”

The man Hvitserk, as you hear the one in the car groaning, raises his gloved hand to your neck. His fingers lightly press over the necklace leading into the most tasteful display of cleavage. A smile grows upon his lips into something sickingly wicked. Your hand meets his on your throat. It shimmies up, angling your face with tender care. Hvitserk pulls you forward, breath tickling over your neck.

A loud pop rings your ears-- and then the sudden babbling cries all but still. Your eyes squeeze shut, forming lines over the lids. There’s another click. The men scatter like a well-trained hive to take care of business.

“I can be coerced, Miss (Y/N),” Hvitserk announces, reclining lazily against the car now. “He leaves behind a debt of a hundred thousand and while I’m uh, sure your rich li’l pastoral family could pay that sum-- I’m not interested in just money.”

“Just money?” You repeat after him.

Hvitserk bares a smile, tickling fingers around the side of your dress. Even if you knew what he was referring to, you did not really think he would go so far as to propose it! You were born in the church, raised under strict morals. You didn’t… you didn’t do that. Falling together with a stranger whose name you didn’t know seems-- out of the question.

He hands you a card. The Polvsen Hotel.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you? I like you. You’ve brave-- so, here’s the deal. You give me a little, I won’t blow them away. Even if Daddie’s dead as a doornail. So here is what you’re going to do, princess.” Hvitserk trails his hand lower. Your breath is sucked straight out of you, holding the card of a swanky, large hotel. He settles over your ass, leaning in against your ear. “You’re gonna me at the Royal Penthouse at ten o’clock. Wear something pretty. I like to uh, unpackage and taste before I eat.”

(Y/N)! Your aunt calls.

You shiver against his chest, turning your head toward the church. The cars have all dispersed. The body, gone. Hvitserk arches back, looking up and down your aunt’s trim body. He mulls over a hum, then looks down to you, tipping your chin up in his gloved hand.

“Do we have a deal?” He asks. You nod.

The only question now is--

Where the fuck are you gonna find something pretty on such short notice?

You can’t tell Marie or Sella what happened.

Marie was a child. Sella… Sella would give you that speech. The one that said you could get forgiveness for your sins you got on your knees and prayed hard enough. If she knew, the whole congregation would know… and the shame of not living up to everything that Marie deserved would tear you apart. Tear apart the Solvassons too.

The only other place you could imagine going was to your sister, Margrethe. She’s… not quite the same as you all. At a young age, she left the house claiming that the family was a bunch of hypocrites wrapped up in the ribbon that was the church. Her life was a fast life. One that you never inquired into, but never yourself put down.

Not until today, that was.

Your knuckles cracked against her mucky door. It’s discoloured and grody, you’d say-- but you don’t know anything about this life. Not a lick. Little Marie went home with your aunt and while you had too, you also escaped.

“Why if it ain’t little Miss.” Margrethe surfaces in the doorway, a hand on the outrageously nice corset. For a prostitute, it had to look nice. She pulls the robes over her chest and pulls you in. You pad in, clearing your throat.

“You look good,” you say, padding in.

“How’s Marie?”

“Good, good.” You step over a cockaroach, bouncing cutely. “Just doing her thing…”

Margrethe closes the door with a lock, inviting you to the kitchen. She’s always been a hospitable woman, plating you an open faced sandwich you have no appetite for. You wave it off, playing with the edge of your purse instead.

“You gonna tell me why you here, then?” Margrethe says.

“I-- I made a mistake.”

You set down the card face up. She reaches out, plucking the card up from the countertop. Immediately she hums,

“Yeah, you did alright.” She laments. “Which one of the brothers you get?”

“Brothers?” You repeat after her, bringing your purse into your lap. She nods, stamping the flimsy card twice on her countertop before handing it to you.

“Yeah. Who was it? Björn? Ubbe?”

You shake your head. “Hvitserk.”

“Ahhh. Hvitserk.”

“Is that bad? He— he killed a man. In front of me.” You quake in front of him. “He threatened to kill his family even.”

“So.” Margrethe draws low. Her eyes center firmly upon yours. “You didn’t…”

“I-- They didn’t deserve it.”

“So you offered to pay it?!” Margrethe booms, bringing her cigarette to her lips. You cough under the smoke that she blows at you in a billowing cloud.

“I thought I could--”

“He doesn’t need the money. If he needed the money, he would’ve busted up the man’s kneecaps! It’s the fucking principle, (Y/N)! Now you can’t back out, do you understand me? The Heathens will kill you!!”

You shirk visibly at her curse, eyes darting over the cracked tile toward her toes. You clutch your purse under the weight of her words. It’s not that you don’t think she doesn’t have your best at heart. You know she does. She doesn’t want you to be used.

Margrethe wasn’t like Ida. She didn’t have the money or drive to travel the world on someone’s else's tab. Marie kept her close to home, caring for her family despite the fact that she couldn’t… well, she couldn’t be close to home with religion as a strict forefront. I will not have a prostitute here! Sella claimed.

Margrethe collapses against the countertop. “What does he want?”

You look up from the floor. “He asked me to wear something pretty.”

Margrethe puts out her cigarette on her countertop.

“Figures. Let’s get you dolled up.”

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @lisinfleur,  @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434,  @smileyparrots, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102,  @smokealone, @shaelyn102 @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly--canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44 @allvikingsfanfic @two-unbeatable-beaters, @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @titty-teetee, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @piebytheocean, @strangunddurm, @rekdreams247, @justacrush, @ivarswonderlust, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @dylanowhyyien, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @huntingbears, @my-little-wolfe, @seize-the-droid, @moondustmemories, @colourmeinblue, @ilvebeenabad, @queenmissfit,  @hallowed-heathen, @neeadinghugs, @mblaqgi, , @triumphantreturnofpies, @dmv49, @glassythoughts, @iconicvaleria-blog, @lovelynerdytraveler, @tierneygonzalez, @zabee113, @meganjudee, @sdcyumyum, @ms-allenbrown, @pancake-blonde, @ivarswickedqueen, @starkiddreamer, @austenkingmylady, @pinkrockstar19, @jeowjungkook, @end-of-night, @yaminax-kuss-a , @gruffle1, @arses21434@natalie-rdr, @tempt-ress, @thevikingsheaux, @poisonedjoinery, @smokealone, @chewythecatus, @laughinglikenialler, @lefrenchfrye, @mybarnesmyhero, @vengefulflange, @imcreepininyourheartbabe, @therealmrshale, @that-goodgirl, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @athroatfullofglass, @x-valhalla @hissouthernprincess

[hilllsnholland]

Money Can’t Buy You Love (12)

Pairing: RichKid!Tom Holland x Reader 

Wc: 3k 

Warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of smut but no real smut. Angsty fluff. 

Summary: Eight letters weigh more than you think 

A/N: Sorry this is so late guys! I’m not going to lie, I’ve been going through a very dark depressive episode this week which is why I’m not on here as much. It took me a while to write this chapter and get it edited but I hope you enjoy anyways. Feedback always appreciated. 

The next few weeks felt like nothing to what Y/N had experienced before. Life went back to normal, she went to class every day, worked at the coffee house, and saw the Hollands and Harrison almost every day. The tension was still high and Harrison had been outcasted from the Holland house for the time being. Y/N saw him at school and when he visited her in the coffee house. It was awkward, but Y/N appreciated his presence. He was her guiding hand through all of this, so she had to be there for him. 

“Your usual?” Y/N asks as Harrison takes a seat at the nearest table. 

“You know me well SB,” He replies and goes back to reading his book. 

Y/N makes his coffee and slides him a free pastry while he’s studying. The rest of the store is empty except for them and another usual who sits in the front corner. Y/N cleans the machine down and goes about her business as usual. She catches Harrison’s eye and wonders though, is it getting better?

Tom had not disclosed what was going on with the therapy sessions they were going too. He said it was getting better or he’d change the subject entirely. Although Y/N could understand the mental strain it was to have your best friend betray you, she still felt like she missing something. Harrison was on the outside now, she wanted to help him. Bring him back into the light and fix it all. 

“How're …the meetings and everything?” Y/N pauses over her words and Harrison shrugs. 

“It’s different. Tom barely looks me in the eye. Sam still talks to me but if Tom is around he’ll act like I don’t exist. Harry is too scared to be around me.” Harrison sighs and drops his book on the table. “I know what I did was wrong. I only wanted to make sure Harry was safe,” 

“I know, but you could have told them.”

“Harry would have been angry,”

“But he’d be alive.” 

Harrison stares at her with big eyes. He knew she was right. He knew that he should have told Tom or the Hollands what was going on. Harrison exhales and takes a bite of the pastry to diffuse his overwhelming stir in his stomach. Y/N pulled out the chair in front of him and took a seat, grabbing his hands softly and tracing over the lines of his palm. 

“It doesn’t mean much, but I forgive you.” She says gently. “Give it time. Embrace this while you can because I think this is good for all of you. You need to work through your problems, not go on vacations to suppress them.” 

“Money buys happiness though,” Harrison half-jokes and looks to see if she’s smiling. 

“Keep saying that and I’ll pour coffee over you,” 

Harrison laughs while releasing his hands from her grip to pick up his book. Y/N watches him for a moment and then goes back to her usual cleaning. The shop is quiet like always, only the slight buzzing from the foam machine and the lulling of music filling the room. Y/N is humming along to a song she heard on the radio the other day while her mind wanders. Memories of the days on the beach or laying in Tom’s arms fill her and she hides a smile. 

The past few weeks had been a rollercoaster for them to say the least. Their somewhat relationship had been stalled. Y/N wanted to make sure Tom and his problems were taken care of before they continued to pursue a future. Tom had agreed reluctantly but agreed none the less because he was in love with her. Y/N knew that, she knew he loved her but those words had been crossed off her tongue. For a moment she wanted to say it to him, she still did, but it was the wrong time. She needed to wait and figure things out first. Her feelings had to take a backseat to reality like always. A dinging from the door drew her attention away from her thoughts and to the front. 

“Speak of the devil,” Y/N says to herself. 

Tom walks in with his hands in his pockets, a smirk proudly on his lips as he meets her eyes. Y/N puts her cleaning cloth into the dirty bin and meets him at the counter. Tom doesn’t acknowledge Harrison, he keeps walking until he’s in front of his girl, pushing the hair from her face and kissed her softly. Tasted like coffee beans like always, it was an acquired taste but on her lips, it was perfect to him. 

“What are doing here? I thought you had plans.” Y/N blissfully smiles at him. 

“I do, with you though.” He takes his hand from his pocket to show off a Bentley key hanging from his long fingers. 

“But-“

“Don’t worry about your shift. I got that covered too,” 

Tom looks over to Harrison who is sitting in his chair, head down at his book but he’s nodding in approval. Y/N is lost for words, so she uses actions instead. She throws her apron over the counter and loosens her hair from her bun, shaking the strands until they look perfect around her face. Tom grabs her hand and leads her outside where the car is waiting for them. He opens the passenger side for her and she jumps in, relaxing into the cool leather interior. 

“So what’s the plan?” Y/N looks to Tom who is sitting coolly in the driver's seat. 

“It’s a surprise,” 

Y/N knew better than to question him. If he had a plan he’d see it through so she turned on the radio and watched the city fade into the distance. Tom has one hand on the steering wheel and the other is pressed to the top of her thigh. Her fingers wrap around the skin and squeeze in the moments of silence. Y/N looks towards him, her lids lazily half closed as she takes in all of him. His smile, his eyes, his being that illuminated everything inside of her. The simplest look sent her flying. He catches her eye and flashes a smile.  

“What are you looking at?” Tom cheekily looks at her. 

“You’re cute,” Y/N looks towards the window and shrugs. “It might be spring or something, but you look really good.” 

“Thanks, darling,” He laughs while his nails skim across the lines of her inner thigh. “You’re perfect.” 

Y/N shifts her legs so his fingers are stuck between her thighs. He doesn’t mind though, his hand stays in that position to feel the softness of her skin. The two ride in silence for another few minutes before Tom stops the car in an empty field. Y/N sticks her head out the window to find a whole picnic set up by a clearing of beautiful flowers. 

“Hope you’re hungry,” Tom turns off the car and goes around the other end of the car to open her door. 

Y/N follows him towards the clearing where there’s a giant silky blanket on the ground that is held down by champagne glasses, a bundle of roses, and an assortment of food. Tom wastes no time to pour flutes of champagne for them and patting the ground for her to sit. The sun is just out of the way with a tree hanging above them, beautiful blooming flowers on the leaves. 

“This seems a little too simple for you Tom,” Y/N chuckles as she takes a bite of the appetizers. 

“I was going to get a hot balloon ride or a violinist to play, but I wanted it to just be us. I wanted it to normal for you,” 

Tom takes a sip from the flute and his eyes are shining bright. That is all she wanted, normalcy. She wanted Tom, money or not, but she wanted it all to feel right and normal. It did though, without forcing anything it felt that way, but something still stopped her from saying those words. It had been so long since Tom had said it in his sleep but it still weighed on her mind. 

“So the Gala my family puts on is happening this weekend,” Tom starts with hesitation. “Do you want to still be my date?” 

“Of course!” Y/N furrows her brows at him. “Did you think I didn’t want to?”

“Well we’re on pause I thought, so I didn’t want to assume anything.” Tom takes a piece of watermelon and takes a bite, the juice sliding down his chin with a crisp bite. “We’re not official, official you know?”

Y/N takes a napkin and cleans his chin from the pinkish liquid, his lips red and kissable. She bites her lip and nods to what he was saying. They were not officially dating no, but it was clear to her that it was only them. No one else would interfere and in the end, it would honestly be Tom. 

“Messy eater,” Y/N hums and kisses his cheek. “I want to be your date though. As long as my friends are still invited.”

“Of course, I promised a long time ago.” Tom places a hand on her chin and tilts her to look upward. “But, about our title…are we…what are we?” 

He blinks, lips still a shade redder than usual, looking like a complete lost dog. He’s searching for the answer in her eyes. He’s watching every movement and reaction that is taking place on her face. He sees nothing though, she’s staring straight him with a blank expression. This is only because she’s searching for the answer too. Her mind is racing, this is what she wants. She wants Tom, officially not just declaring their feelings to each other. She wants everyone to know that they belong to each other. Their commitment to each other is real and this not a fading feeling. Y/N glides a hand over his that is placed on her chin and finally makes eye contact with him. 

“I want to call you my boyfriend,” Her voice is robotic like she’s forcing herself to say it but it’s really the lump in her throat that’s stopping her. 

“So we’re officially together? No more running around like we don’t know what we are. We are…it.” Tom speaks slowly to ensure her reaction is positive. 

“Yes, as long as everything with your family is still going okay and you are getting the help you need, then yes. We are officially together.” 

His smile widened and for a second he felt like the happiest person in the world. He waited for those words for a while now so he was going to bask in the glory for a little while longer. Y/N leaned over, kissing his watermelon stained lips again, letting her tongue wander over the sweet skin and enjoying him. Tom held her face still, his fingers tickling her neck as they curl to hold her closer. For a second it was just them. Them against everything. Them against the world. Them against their inner demons. It was them and that’s all that mattered. Tom moved swiftly picked up Y/N and brought her into his lap, legs crossed behind him and their chests pressed tightly against the others. 

“You’re a dream,” Tom says against her lips. “A beautiful wonderful dream that is my girlfriend. You’re mine.”

“I’ve always been yours,’

Both of them smile and then continue their kiss of passion. Tom’s hands roamed over her body, pushing away the fabric on her back so his hands could touch every inch of her skin underneath. Their breathing heavied, Y/N moved her kisses to his neck, nipping at the lightly tanned skin and sucked until there was a small red mark. Something special for him to wear to the Gala so that everyone knew he was hers. Tom rolled them onto Y/N’s back so he was hovering over her, tent halfway pitched in his trousers that she could feel when he moved over her body. It was a blur of touches and fire and suddenly Y/N’s shirt is gone and Tom’s pants are halfway down his legs. He moves past her ear to kiss the side of her face and she can feel his hot breath on her skin. 

“I’m in love with you,’’ He says breathlessly. 

Y/N froze. Her mouth becomes suddenly dry as she moved away from kissing his chest. Tom felt it this time, her entire body suddenly shifts and tense under him. The lust that was controlling him soon took a backseat to fear. It was in seconds that his mind finally processed what had happened and now he was looking at her with confusion. He loved her, that wasn’t a lie. Y/N knew she loved him too. She told Jenna and Katie that she loved him weeks ago, but now? Those words would not come out. They were stuck on her lips. 

“Are you….not going to say it back?” Tom looked at her and felted like he was going to throw up. 

Y/N opened her mouth but didn’t speak, it was just air escaping her bruised lips. Tom rolled off of her and pulled his pants back up. The moment was gone and the blood was rushing back to the rest of his body. He felt ill like he was actually going to empty himself out right there in front of her. Y/N sat up and awkwardly pet his shoulder, her words so small. 

“I…just…I know but I can’t say it,” 

“You feel it but you can’t say it?” She nods and Tom exhales deeply. “Alright, well should we get packing up?”

Y/N watches him pack up the picnic without even waiting for a response. His body language had completely changed. It wasn’t so much cold, but more so fearful. He wouldn’t look her in the eyes and his bottom lip stuck out in a permanent pout. He wasn’t trying to make her feel guilty, but it was the only way to keep the feelings inside from coming to surface. Y/N threw her shirt back on and collected the remaining things, following behind him as they reached the car. The two didn’t exchange any words during the whole process, they didn’t even speak on the drive back to her flat. 

Y/N wanted to say the phrase. It was eight letters, it shouldn’t be hard to say. They had expressed much more to each other than eight letters. Y/N swallowed through the lump in her throat, her palms sweating against the leather seats. Tom focused his gaze on the road, both hands on the steering wheel, which was something he never does. He won’t let a single thought cross through his mind, he drowns them all out with different things, unrelated things so that he won’t break down in front of her. Tom pulls up in front of the flat and unlocks the doors. 

“I’ll see you this weekend for the Gala,” He says with a flat tone. 

“Yeah,” She looks to the door and then to him. “I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be. I said it too soon. It’s okay.” Tom moves the hair from his face and swallows. “It doesn’t change anything though, I feel it.”

“I do too,”

“But you can’t say it?”

No, she couldn’t say it. Even if every fiber of her being was telling her to say it she couldn’t. Y/N desperately tried to force the words from her tongue so she can show him that it’s real. Those feelings are real and that they are there. But something was stopping her, something weighed on her and made her grow silent. 

“No, I don’t know why,” 

“You know why.” Tom’s voice rises a bit and he looks down at the steering wheel. “Somewhere inside you do. I’ll see you later Y/N.”

He doesn’t look to her or even kisses her goodbye. Y/N steps out of the car and closes the door, waiting for him to say something or look at her. A minute passes and she finally enters her building where she watches him through the window. He waits for her to enter the lift though, his eyes locked on the printing of the leather so that he doesn’t see her dazzling eyes that would surely make him break down. Y/N walks into the elevator and goes to her floor where she could finally breakdown from this heartache. 

Every time she saw Tom it ended with heartache. Was it worth it? Was anything worth it with him? There was something lacking in the relationship and she couldn’t put her finger on it. It went straight over her head what was wrong and why she couldn’t remain happy with him. Y/N enters her empty flat and stands in front of the entry table. Her palms are flat on the surface while her eyes finally let tears stroll down her face. Her sobs are silent but her chest is contracting around her beating heart. She looks up at the mirror hanging in the entryway and watches herself. 

“It’s me.”

Her voice sounded foreign to herself. It was like another person was telling her the answer. It didn’t even cross her mind until she saw herself, crying over her own mistake. The only person in her way was herself. The eight letters weighed on her because she refused to move them. She didn’t even try, she let her nerves and fears consume her until she was a pawn to her own game. Y/N wiped the mascara from her eyes and walked to the window that looked out to the street where she saw Tom pulling away. She could run after the car, admit all the feelings that were tearing her apart, but yet again she stopped herself. It would feel forced, she told herself. Y/N coughed, clearing her throat so she could calm down finally. She took out her phone and looked at the saved picture of Tom, her lips trembling as she forced the words out. 

“I…love…you.” She said in broken chunks. “I…love you. I love you.” 

Y/N repeated the words until they slipped over her tongue naturally and her lips didn’t stick over the four letter word. The phrase had almost lost all meaning unless she was looking at Tom’s picture. Y/N threw herself on her unmade bed that was covered in clothes and homework, still repeating the mantra over and over again until her mouth begged for water. She had it memorized and comfortable on her tongue so that next time she would see Tom she would say it. Say it with meaning and passion like he did before. Give him back what he wanted and give him the response he deserved. By this weekend, he would know how much she loved him finally. 

///

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[fluffyballme]

Garden

Let's put this in their second year, because we all know they are school sweethearts

It was sunday and spring just started which means Neville will be there to see his beautiful flowers grow

He dressed fast and eated faster and if Harry wasn't staring at Draco he would be suprised of why is he hurrying so much

But Hermione explained him (because she is good friend and remembers when her firends talks about something they love) as she continued reading book

And so he made it to green house just in time and oh god he could already see small flowers growing! Spring is-

There was anoder boy, at his flowers, smelling them and talking to them- what is going on?

,,Umm sorry uh.. who are you?"

,,Theodore Nott"

He was Slytherin, he heard about him

He was different from other Slytherins Neville met, he was much more caring than other Slytherins, he heard about him because kids weren't so nice so they talked behinde his backs mean stuff about "how he could be Slytherin when he should be Hufflepuff!" and other mean things he doesn't even want to remember

And that boy- Theodore made him feel.. weird

He had small curls at end of his hair, like really small, he smiled to him- he also had most beautiful smile ever and his eyes, god his eyes

,,I am sorry I just wanted to see these flowers-" he started to explain himself and why he is here but just stopped, ,,I am sorry, I will leave if I am making toruble"

He apologised and wanted to leave but Neville couldn't let him leave

,,No! Uh I mean, no you can stay, I mean I have nothing against you here because this is school's and everybody is welcome- I am sorry, I am talking to much"

And Theodore laughed and Neville felt like he could die instantly, his laugh was soo cute that it made Neville blush and amile softly

,,How is this plant called?"

,,Leaping Toadstools"

,,Oh and that?!"

,,Mimbulus mimbletonia"

,,And that! What's that? It looks soo beautiful!"

,,Uhh it's just Narcissus."

,,Oh.."

Neville just couldn't help but smile/blush whole time Theodore was asking him

And from that moment they just somehow started to hang more and more, it just happened

It started as hang outs in green house and then as learning sessions, walking around halls together and even eating together

Sometimes if day was bad other would take food from great hall for both and would sit on wall eating silently enjoying each others company

They became inseaprable

And finally in 4th year Neville got courage to ask him out

Both never realised they were falling in love but they were, hard

Theo blushed hard when Neville (finally) asked him out

And Neville was so stupid because he thought Theo would reject him- quoting Theo Nott's words!

On their first date Neville was a little late and he got good reason, he was picking narcissa's for Theo because now Neville made plan, from now on till rest of his life he will give Theo one narcissa after he got from work (not that he was so madly in love that he was already planing marrying Theo and spending rest of his life with him, certanly not!)

Theo blushed when Neville explained why he was late

But loved Neville even more because of how caring and sweet person he is

And so they dated, at first it was awkward for both because they were also each other's best friends but what they felt wasn't friendly, it was more than friendly feelings

They were school sweethearts, both socialy awkward to show it in public but alone they couldn't get enough of each other

And then everything started

(Theo for every Neville's birthday sended him present and one narcissus in sign of love)

Dark Lord is back.

Death Eaters were called and Neville not knowing Theo's family were Death Eaters, talked about how he joined Dumbledore's Amry and he should too! He praised everything against Dark Lord and Theo agreed , he hated Dark Lord and loved his family

Neville was always caring boyfriend and he will stay one forever, but it was just he never noticed Theo being off, he never noticed Theo being forced into being Death Eater

And so war started and everybody had their side; one heart broken in two peices, both good but teared into something more than themselves

But Theo decided he couldn't do it

So he ran and ran and ran

He run to try to find Neville, he wanted him, needed his soft hugs, softer kisses and his calming voice telling him everything's gonna be fine

He found him just before fight started, Neville was preparing for fight all tensed

He noticed Theo and he wanted nothing more than run to him and give him biggest hug ever, but he can't, he couldn't

He ignored him and Theo's poor heart broken every time more and more until he screamed on top of his lungs at Neville making him listen

He explained that he (and Draco, Blaise and Pansy and half of Slytherins) were forced into becoming Death Eaters because of their pureblood families, he apologised for not telling him, for just running away from him, for everything he could

And Neville kissed him hard and pssionate- he never kissed him like this unless they were having small make out sessions-

That was last time Theo saw him (he had to defent Hogwarts) and so did Theo, this was his true home

He stood next to Draco and Blaise looking at Harry's dead face and crazy lunatic of wizard being happy over finally killing a teenager

Draco screamed on top of his lungs when he saw Harry's dead body in Hagrids amrs

They all fought together, side by side

They all sat down in circle next to each other cuddiling still in shock

He was in Neville's conforting arms, everything was already better

(everyone spend their summer in Grimudal place taking care of each other, it was better with company)

Eight year came and every student got job help rebuilding Hogwarts

Neville got to rebuild Green house with Theo and planting plants, drawing on pots, cleaning mess and making new furniture for Green house was Neville's best dream ever and he wish never to wake up

,,Neville, look! Narcissus are growing, who planted them?"

,,I did- uh that's our flower so I had to, you know plant that one too ove-" he was cut off by Theo kisssig him with biggest smile on his face

_

It was hot summer day, it just fited for late July weather. In early morning was still cold and little foggy but at 12 it already started to brun, afternoon was kind of better but only from 5 and then night falls and it was once more colder.

Neville was just sitting on ground in garden, it was around 6pm and he was enjoying in shade that house made while slight wind was making perfect shade for Neville to take care of his plants.

It was late July, to be more precise it was 30th of July Neville's birthday. Whole day owls were just flying in and out of their house bringing birthday cards sending him best wishes, much love and even more happines and of course teasing how old he is now. All of them made him happy and he loved every single one of his friends, he was luckiest man alive to have such great friends and even better husband- Theodore Nott, oops Theodore Longbottom.

Today Neville got to sleep late in morning, to be precise he woke up at 10am and there was already over 20 letters waiting for him to be opened. But also there was no sight of his husband, actually his husband went missing for whole day but Neville was sure he's doing something very important so he didn't want to bother but also that meant he would have whole day for himself to relax and enjoy on his birthday.

So he did. Whole day he waited for weather to cold down so he could go out and take care of his beautiful and big garden. And it finally cold down, it was perfect time to garden and drink tea or some cold drink in garden. So he made himself a cup of tea and put on table on balcony they had to cold down a little while he took his tools for garden and went in garden.

,,There you are!" Soon enough Neville heard so fimiliar voice behind him and he recognised it the second he heard his voice.

,,Oh there you are! I was now a little worried where are you whole day." Neville confessed as he was about to stand up to greet his husband but it was too late, Theo already kneeld down to kiss his beloved husband.

,,Yeah well I was searching for something special and it's of course for you." Theo said slightly moving away from Neville's comfrotable pressence to get what was in bag, ,,Here you go, new plant book! I knew yoy were searching for this for a long time and well I kinda pulled few strings to get it," Theo confessed and laughed to himself a little and he continued, ,,and how would this be your birthday without these," Theo suddenly pulled from his back beautiful white flowers; narcissus. ,,happy birthday love." Theo wished to Neville as he pulled him from kiss and smiled softly while he still conected their forheads together.

,,Thank you love." Neville thanked him as he smiled softly being blessed he has such husband, God was he lucky.

Im literally posting this in 23:15, but i was preparing for hospital im going in tomorrow so i didnt have time to finish this but whatever; happy birthday to one of my fav characters ever, he learned me that i can be who i am no matter how i look outisde its important who i am inside! So here it is for neville and he's lovely husband, happy birthday! <3

[writtingfiction]

*trips into submissions* Uh hi again a mere mortal has arrived to present another idea for your brilliant writing. I was thinking: Robin dreams of chrom bc of the alternate timeline split and yadda yadda fea stuff. But what if this split had happened so many times but in each one chrom and robin end up together? What if the same pairing had been repeated so much that robin AND chrom feel familiar to one another? Maybe write about how they come together in a new timelime if they both remember?

Why, hello fellow mortal, I must apologize. I would have written this sooner but I took a hit to the head and received a concussion. :(  I had fun writing this though, I hope it cheers you up.��(oﾟ▽ﾟ)o

pairing: Chrom x Robin

words: 3k

The first time he saw her, there was such a sense of familiarity he was surprised that he did not recognize her. Her body movements all seemed familiar, her voice for some reason made his heart ache. His heart pounded in his chest, he was so confused, why was she so familiar when neither of them had any recollection of each other?

Despite Frederick trying to warn him, nothing could dissuade him. This familiarity seemed too strong to ignore, so keeping her by his side was something he could trust, body and soul. It felt like déjà vu, being by her side as time had passed. There was a connection between the two of them, that he knew, but it seemed deeper.

“Chrom, stare at me any longer and I’m going to think that I’m truly a Plegian.” Robin’s laughter filled the room. Chrom blinked once, twice before realizing his mistake. He let out a nervous laugh, hand scratching the back of his neck, face lighting up a light shade of pink.

“My apologies, Robin. I did not mean to stare.” Chrom said, eyes trained on the wall of the war tent. He could hear the tiny giggles escape her lips.

“You do no harm. What’s on your mind?” Robin said, her gaze softening as they land on the prince who shifts in his spot. There’s a moment of silence before Chrom opens his mouth to say how familiar she is, but a far-off shout interrupts them. A battle is about to begin. She gives Chrom a quick smile, hands grabbing her coat. “Another time, then?” Chrom can only nod as the two of them walk out, strategies falling from her lips as he listens to every word.

He doesn’t get the chance to speak about it again till much later. Chrom has his eyes trained on the stars above him, twinkling brightly as his feet stay firmly planted on the courtyard soil. He wondered if his father was watching him from the stars, along with his mother. What would they think of their children now?

“Stargazing?” A familiar voice pulls him away from the stars and towards the woman whom he has come to trust whole heartedly. It’s Robin, the white-haired tactical genius that his body aches for in a familiar way. Chrom could only chuckle, giving a shy smile.

“It would seem so, what brings you here, Robin?” He asks, what has her up this late walking around the castle?

“I was on my way to the library…” Robin says trailing off, hand pointing in the rough direction of the library. “however, you seemed a bit lost. Thought I would keep you company.”

“That’s very kind of you, Robin.” Chrom smiles, their gazes lingering before she speaks up.

“Although, is everything ok? You seemed a bit distance after our last encounter with Gangrel.” Robin said worried, brows furrowing. Chrom could feel the tension rise in his body at the mere mention of the Mad King’s name. His fists clench tightly at his side but breathed in sharply, trying to relax.

“Yes, after all, everything is alright, for the moment.” Chrom said, glaring at the ground. “A war is upon us, again.” Robin frowned, hand coming up and placing it against Chrom’s shoulder.

“Everything will work out, Chrom. You have your family, the Shepherds and me. We will be by your side till the end. You can count on us; I promise you that.” Robin said, lips pulling into a smile.

“Thank you, Robin.” He looks at her, eyes locking with hers. He couldn’t stop his own heart from swooning. Her white-hair shimmered in the moonlight, her eyes lighting up with the stars reflecting in her eyes. She is the epitome of beauty under the moonlight, although he was sure she would deny it. “You look—”

“Marth?” Confusion filled the beauty woman in front of him. He turned on his spot, spotting the other young man. He echoed Robin, feeling slightly cheated on the night but those feelings were quickly turned to ash when he found out about the night’s events. He felt his stomach drop when the familiar feeling had settled into his bones as he cut down plegian soldiers that dared to try an assassination on the Exalt.

Days had passed since that night. The attempted assassination on his older sister’s life, her kidnapping, the attempted rescue but, the results were in vain. Chrom sat at the edge of his chair, soaked to the bone with a towel draped over his head as he stared blankly at the floor. His chest ached in pain, his throat dry and eyes red. His arms resting on his knees, as his mind drew a blank. It was a void, he had cried, sobbed when he was alone. Now, here he was, a shell of a man not being able to feel a thing as he replayed the death of his sister, nevertheless, what made it all worse was that it was all a familiar pain.

He heard footsteps come towards his room, stop by the door and then he heard nothing. With how long the pause was, he thought they had left but instead there was a soft knock. He didn’t respond, he didn’t want too. To be left alone is what he wanted, alone with his painful thoughts.

“Chrom…?” Her voice was so quiet, so hesitant. He didn’t hear the door open. She came forward, boots just stepping into his view. She called out to him again, voice filling the room. “Chrom, are you alright?” He felt anger boil inside him, of course not, how could he?His hands bawled into fists.

“How couldI be alright?” Chrom seethed. “She’s gone. I’ll never get to see her again, she– she made the choice for me, Robin. I was too powerless to stop him…!” He could see Robin kneel down in front of him, gently grasping at his hands, unfurling them from his tight hold.

“Chrom, I was powerless too…” Her voice was shaky at best, hiding emotions best she could but failing. Hands gripping tighter, as she tried to reassure the both of them. “My plan didn’t save your sister, and I–“

“You had done your best,” Chrom interrupted her, lowering his head even more. “you didyour best. I only have my failures now left to haunt me, along with this-this-pain.” He hissed. Voice lowering down to barely a whisper. “It feels I’ve gone through this before, like an old festering wound.” A pained expression appears on Robin’s face. Every breath she took started to hurt, heart hammering against her ribs. An odd familiar pain had entered her heart as she heard the prince’s words. She had been getting pieces of the past, or what she would like think is the past but it’s always Chrom by her side. She’s sure she hasn’t seen him before but, why the sense of familiarity? The moment she awoke, his name came to her lips naturally, but her own did not.

There were multiple times when that sense of familiarity had appeared. It was exceptionally strong when she was with Chrom. Battling in the arena in Regna Ferox, meeting Gangrel by the border when he took Maribelle; seeing Marth’s face for the first time when she appeared to warn them about the assassination; even the embarrassing moments they shared together at camp. They all felt familiar, like a sense of déjà vu. But there was also a downside, she had wondered why the pain in her chest was familiar when Emmeryn made the choice to sacrifice herself. She felt worse, just by having that feeling of familiarity, and now to hear Chrom say he had felt that familiarity as well; what does she say now. She took a deep breath and called out to him again, but he refused to look at her.

“Look at me, Chrom.” His head barely rose, lifting just enough to see her face be lit up by the corridor light. Her own eyes were red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears. He couldn’t have looked any better. “You’re not alone in this war. I know you’re scared; everyone is. However, you can’t give up. You may not be like your sister, Gods, I don’t think anyone of us is as half as good as your sister. But, if we try, together, we can make a stand for your sister. If you fall, I’ll be right there to pick you back up. Remember, as the future comes approaching us, you don’t have to be like your sister, you can still stay true to yourself.”

“And if I can’t? What if I’m not worthy of her ideals? What if I can’t do anything to save Ylisse, Robin?” Chrom asked, painfully so. He could feel his eyes burn once again, just when he thought he had cried for long enough. Robin gave him a soft look.

“If you’re not worthy, then you shall keep going until you are. You love your home too much to let nothing be done. I’ll be right by your side, Chrom. I’ll pick you back up every time you fall, without fail.” Robin said determined. Chrom took a sharp inhale, exhaling slowly as he digested her words. His hand squeezed her own in reassurance. Eyes looking down at their hands, tears daring to escape once again.

“Thank you, Robin.” Chrom whispered, tears escaping him quickly. Robin quickly enveloped him in a hug, holding him close. They held onto each other, tightly, fearing for moments if they were to let go of one another. Hours passed them by, crying in her arms as he dropped his worries, his concerns of the future. He was a broken glass, shattered pieces on the ground, seemingly no hope in recovery. However, here she came along, delicate hands picking up those broken shards and carefully putting him back together. Like she had done it a hundred times before, this time was no different.

The next nauseating feeling of familiarity was the few moments before the final battle started, the march on Gangrel’s end which he was going to personally see to. Robin was by his side as they overlooked the area, mindless chatter as they waited for the troops to get into position.

“Do you have any plans when this is over?” Chrom asked quietly, eyes scanning the field. His hand fidgeting with a small pouch he had in his pocket. He heard her giggle. He looked at her confused. “What?”

“Haha, hmm? Oh, nothing.” Robin said, turning her gaze away from the confused look of the prince. “I just thought you would be more focused on Gangrel, is all.”

“That’s true, but I know we will win. We’re not running anymore. The Mad King may have started this war, but we’re finishing it today.” His eyes caught hers. A serious expression on his face as his gut twisted in familiarity and nerves. “Together.” Robin gave a wide smile.

“Of course, now, let’s finish this.”

-

The fight was exhausting, it took every last bit of strength to make it through the battlefield victorious. The cheers were almost deafening, chorus’ of cheers and song had burst out when they had won. However, the only thing on his mind after he slew Gangrel was his tactician, his best friend. He never had to look far and especially not today. He had turned to her the second there were cheers. He was able to see Robin drop her tome and run into his arms. Her arms had quickly wrapped out the prince crying out in relief that everything was finally was over. There was a relieved chuckle that left his lips as he left Falchion to stand on its own in the dirt as his own tired arms wrapped around her.

“We did it!!” Chrom cried out, pulling away to see her face light up. Large, but tired smile on her lips. “You were amazing, we made this far because of you.”

“Thank you, but we have also made it this far because of your charisma.” Her eyes sparkled in that moment; they were free.

“So, the campaign is now over, war has ended. Do you have thoughts of what you now plan to do?” Chrom asked. Robin’s smile only growing brighter. She pulled away, out and away from his arms. Taking a step back, humming as she thought about it.

“Hmm, who knows. Maybe I’ll travel, visit other countries. Maybe get hired as their tactician and then verse Ylisse as the enemy.” Robin said, watching the prince’s reaction. His eyes went wide, shock filling him.

“What!? You can’t be serious, Robin!” The clear distress in his voice had only made her laugh.

“Don’t worry, Chrom. I wouldn’t do such a thing. However, traveling does sound nice…” Robin said, her smile fading.

“You don’t have to leave. I’m sure as things calm down and Ylisse gets back on its feet, I could use an advisor.” Chrom explained, grabbing Falchion and sheathing the legendary weapon. “Among other things…” Confusion took hold of Robin.

“I’m grateful for the offer and I graciously accept but, what are you talking about?” Chrom could now feel his nerves on edge. He was nervous. His eyes locked his Robin’s, he could do this.

“Robin, there’s something I haven’t told you… something I need to tell you. So please, just listen.” Chrom paused, as the two stared heavily at each other. One in confusion and the other a bundle of nerves, but the awkward silence had gotten to them. Chrom’s face started to flush red. Hand rubbing his neck. “This is more awkward than it was supposed to be… um, so, Robin, I like spending time with you. Y’know, as you do tactics and things. I like having you by my side in battles as we slay our enemies, not that I like killing people… or at all. But like, when you do tactics and you plan– that doesn’t sound right… I mean, having your presence on the battle field as we kill the enemy. Oh Gods, I’m just making this worse.” Robin’s face flushed red as Chrom stumbled over his words. Hand covering her face as she continued to listen to him ramble. “What I mean to say, is that I hope we can keep battling– no, that’s– how about I start over? Wait, why are you laughing?”

“I don’t think, I’ve ever been confessed to in such a silly way. Pfft.” Robin giggled slightly; eyes trained on ground.

“What? Gods, maybe I was wrong to pursue in end.” Chrom covered his face with his hand, embarrassment making his cheeks flush a darker red. “Please, just forget everything I’ve said. I don’t want to make things weird for either of us. It’s probably— “

“Chrom.” Robin’s voice cuts in. Approaching him in three steps, hands cupping his face. Their eyes locking with one another. “Forgetting this moment with you would be a mistake, and I think I’ve forgotten enough things in my life.” There was a shy smile on her lips, nonetheless, Chrom was still a mess. His words slowly processing in his brain, but the conclusion of her words not coming fast enough for the tactician.

Robin leaned forward. Their lips pressing against each other, a kiss conveying the emotions they couldn’t convey into words. The poor prince went stiff, at first but soon melted in the kiss. But it wasn’t quick enough. Robin had pulled away, slowly, their lips only inches apart before she pulled back.

“R-Robin?!” Chrom cried, shock, glee, and everything in between coursing through his body. Robin’s face matched Chrom’s in colour. The red painting their faces as they spilled their hearts for each other.

“I may have been to, reserved with my feelings. But, I guess with this, I love yo-“ Robin let out a grunt as Chrom gave her a bone crushing hug. His laughter filling her ears.

“Ahaha! Robin, you’ve made me the happiest man alive! I love you so much!!” Chrom gleefully cheered. Robin smiled brightly, giggles bubbling in her throat. “It’s great having you in my arms again.” He had said so confidently that she had almost missed the word.

“Wait, again?” Robin questioned; their gleeful moment put on pause. The two untangled from each other, confusion and nervous energy surrounding them.

“Again?” Chrom echoed, realizing his choice of words was, strange.

“Why would you say again…? Unless, you’ve been hiding that we do actually know each other this entire time!” Robin said, mind a haze. Chrom immediately dissuaded her.

“No, no! I would never do that, especially to you. To be honest, a slip of the tongue. It felt natural to say it. Familiar, even.” Chrom mumbled. Hand rubbing at his neck, a habit of nerves. That’s when it seemed to have clicked for her. Familiar. She wanted to laugh, perhaps its fate, or even destiny that they were pulled together again. She doesn’t know, but she’s grateful for it. To have Chrom, as a partner and friend, there’s nothing else she could ask for.

“Hmm, I see. Well, it has done no harm.” She smiled widely as her gaze looked upon Chrom lovingly. Chrom chuckled.

“If you say so, but tonight, we celebrate for Emm.” Chrom spoke his gloved hand finding her own, as he guided the two of them back towards their troops. The largest of smiles on their faces as they continued on their ways, forging on a peaceful path.

However, for Chrom and the Shepherds, they would be fighting for this peace once again. The Marth that had gladly helped them from before now joins them once again, but not as Marth, but as Lucina. That was when it had clicked for Chrom himself, the aching familiarity that had been put to rest when he wed his wife, Robin. His daughter from another future had watched over them, but not saying a word. He knows the ache of familiarity and knowing he shouldn’t act upon it; he knew it very well. He was grateful though, the familiar feeling hasn’t led him astray just yet.

[crowkingwrites]

The Snow Was Falling When I Fell For You

Pairing: Ramsay Bolton x Reader

Fic Request: Just wanna say one I am in love with your Ramsay fanfics and oneshots and two it's my birthday today and I was wondering if you can do a oneshot of Ramsay x Reader and they're childhood friends I always have that concept in my mind but can never write it since I suck at writing fanfics😭

Words: 2092

Author’s Notes: I oved this up in the queue of requests I had b/c it was the nonny’s birthday. Happy Birthday, sweet nonny! I hope this fic makes you happy :* Two, this is much different than most Ramsay One Shots i’ve been doing. I wanted to take a different take for this one and I’m really proud of it.

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12969735

The snow crushed beneath your feet as your little feet ran in the snow. Your cheeks were red and you were covered from head to toe in warm furs. Your family had settled in the North months ago. Your father wanted to raise your family around people that had morals and values instead of violence and politics. So, he took your mother, your siblings, and you far north away from king’s Landing where the land was cold, but the people were warm.

Most of them anyways. The butcher’s boys were running after you with an old set of rusty knives. It scared you, so you took off. They kept running after you simply because they wanted to scare you more.

Your feet carried you across the fields by the Weeping Water. The river had frozen over, but people still used it as a guide to where they were. Right now, it was your guide near to your father’s workplace, The Dreadfort.

“Come back Y/N!” the first butcher’s boy said.

“Yeah we won’t hurt you!” the second responded. They laughed as they brandished their rusted kitchen weaponry. Tears began to form as you ran faster in the snow. Suddenly, you tripped over a snow-covered branch. You landed knee-first into the cold dirt. The butcher’s boys caught up to you and loomed over you.

“Did someone fall?” they cackled.

“Please stop,” you begged them.

“She’s crying!” the first one came closer. He had a meat cleaver in his hand. His dirty fingers wrapped around the handle tightly as if he were some knight. “Let’s see if we can make her cry more.”

The butcher’s boy raised the cleaver high above his head.

“Please! Don’t! Stop!” you cried loudly. You heard the younger butcher’s boy mock you and laugh. You closed your eyes. This was it. That’s when you heard another set of footsteps in the snow.

“I would leave her alone if I were you,” you heard his threat and you opened your eyes. He was a little older than you. His dark hair was wild, but his blue eyes were set on the two boys in front of him. He stepped in front of you, creating an obstacle between you and your enemies. “You can’t tell us what to do,” the older one told him.

“Yeah!” the younger one shouted. The older boy protecting you kept a serious face. His hand twiddled with a flaying knife.

“I don’t care what you think I can and can’t do. Leave her alone, that’s an order,” he threatened. The boys stood their ground. The older butcher’s boy was a heavy one. His size was easily twice the size of the older boy. He walked closer to him, making the space between them little and tension higher.

“I’m not going anywhere. Now move, or I’ll cut you.” The older butcher’s boy raised the cleaver above his head again. In a swift move, the older boy took his flaying knife and cut the butcher’s boy’s face. The cut was thin and long. Blood started to leak from his cheek and his eyes caught the end of it. The butcher’s boy dropped the cleaver and screamed in pain.

“My eye!” he cried out. He covered his face and ran off in the opposite direction. You sat up in shock. They were gone. A hand extended out towards you, and you took it. The older boy helped you off the ground.

“Are you alright?” he asked you. You nodded your head. “You’re Kevan’s daughter, aren’t you? My father is a very big fan of your father’s work.”

“Thank you,” you said in a small voice. You winced in pain. Lifting your skirts, a small stream of blood leaked down your leg because of the cut on your knee.

“Don’t worry,” the older boy said. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again. Come with me.” He offered his hand to you, and for the first time you felt the world slow down. His fingertips were in high detail. You could see every groove on them, just as you could see every shade of blue in his eyes. Your heart was swelling. You thought this only happened in the romantic stories your mother told you.

“What’s your name?” you asked as you took his hand.

“Snow. Ramsay Snow,” he guided you back to the Dreadfort.

From that day on, you followed Ramsay like a small shadow. He did not mind. You were his private audience to his entertainment. Every bug he smashed, you were there. Every adult he stood up to, you were there. Every cut he made on someone, you were there watching him, admiring him, falling for him more.

You couldn’t say if your father approved of the special relationship Ramsay shared with you, but it made his pockets swell with coins. Turns out, if the bastard favors you, the Lord of the Dreadfort favors you, then business would do extremely well.

But he was your father first. He had heard of Ramsay’s torment behavior. How he enjoyed inflicting pain upon others. Granted, most of them were enemies of the North, it still concerned him. He secretly looked at you longer every time you came home, and checked for any cuts or bruises. God help the man that inflicted any pain on you. However, your skin was clear of any aliments or pain. You always smiled when you came home and you always helped around the house. Your father let it go.

Ramsay was only two years older than you, but every time his father made him wear ‘proper gear’ when Ned Stark came to visit, he looked much older than he was. Ned made frequent visits to other castles to hear their concerns and such. This particular visit was important to Roose, so he pulled out all the stops.

A feast was held, candles were lit, and nearly everyone was invited. You wore your best dress and half-braided your hair into a wreath crown. Long sleeves protected you from the cold weather, and the rest of your hair cascaded over your shoulders. When you walked into the great hall, young men noticed you as a young woman for the first time. Ramsay Snow, all in proper wear, watched you float like a dream he remembered having over and over again.

That night, Ramsay never left your side. His fingers could never quite leave your body alone, and your father noticed quite quickly how beautiful you looked and how Ramsay’s eyes never strayed from your chest and face.

It had been a magical night for you. Ramsay never treated you like this ever. Of course, you never told him how you felt. How your heart swelled when you saw him or how you admired how he was true to his family traditions. You couldn’t express how your hairs raised when he touched you.

Ramsay led you away from the feast, laughing and shushing you. Both of you stopped near open windows to see the snow gently falling from the black sky. Ramsay touched the ends of your curls and played with them. The next thing you knew, he placed his lips over yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and a warmth grew from inside you. Ramsay’s hands held your face. He kept kissing you like he needed to breathe.

It was wonderful, but your father saw. His head couldn’t get rid of the rumors. The ideas of dark dungeons filled with the stench of rotting skin, organs across the floor, and dead kings on the walls telling him to get his daughter away from Ramsay. This was too much. Yes, the idea of his daughter marrying highborn was a desire among common men, but not this one. Not this bastard.

He looked back at you and the Bolton bastard kissing, and your father had to do something.

The next day, your heart broke into pieces as your father had sent you off to Winterfell, a place miles and miles away from Ramsay. You were a handmaiden now to Catelyn Stark. Although she was kind and warm to you, you missed home. You missed your family, your friends, and you missed him.

Months passed, and you learned to live without him. You heard how ill Robb Stark would speak of Roose, and you would keep your ill-mannered words to yourself. Years passed, and you watched Ned Stark leave home, and soon enough you watched Catelyn and Robb leave home as well. Soon enough, you knew they wouldn’t return home.

Then, you watched in horror as Theon Greyjoy took over Winterfell. He was always so cruel to you. Lingering looks and trying to convince you to warm his bed, pushing you to the ground when you didn’t. He was your Lord now whether you liked it or not, but you were smart. You knew squids couldn’t survive far from the water for too long.

The sky was gray that day. Clouds gathered up in bunches and crowds and filled the sky with something ominous. You were tying to do your chores that day when a Greyjoy soldier cornered you.

“Where you going?” he asked you, his breath smelled of old ale.

“To the kennels, ser,” you looked down. He grabbed your arm tightly.

“No, you’re coming with me. Theon says you’re a good bedwarmer.” His smile had two ‘ missing. One on the top, and the other on the bottom. Another soldier ran towards the center of Winterfell. “Oi! What’s going on?”

“I don’t know! We’re being called! Come on!” the soldier continued to run. You tried to get out of the soldier’s grasp.

“Uh uh, you’re coming with me. Understand?” the Greyjoy soldier dragged you to the courtyard. Your eyes looked down at the ground. Flakes of snow decorated your hair. Theon Greyjoy was shouting something, and that’s when you heard him.

You looked up to see him. He looked more like Lord than the Bastard. He wore his family’s colors like he was a trueborn. His blue eyes were frosted and he had bags under his eyes. He’s aged. So have you. You felt so frozen. He had to know you were there. Ramsay’s eyes scanned the crowd.

“Ramsay!” you shouted. The Greyjoy soldier hit you in the back of the head hard.

“Are you mad? Don’t you know who he is?” he said worriedly. The back of your head burned, but you opened your eyes to see Ramsay’s looking back at you. You saw a mixture of emotions in his face. Confusion. Realization. Love. Depression. Anger. Wrath.

You weren’t sure how it happened, but it was fast. An arrow went through the Greyjoy soldier’s head. Two other Greyjoy soldiers died on the spot. You ran off. You knew better than to stand in the middle of a slaughter. It didn’t seem long until you heard the shouting and fighting. Not long after that, you could smell the Greyjoys piss themselves.

The aftermath was ugly. Several men had lost their limbs. Other men were crucified in X-shaped crosses. Flies had already began their feasts spreading disease and pestilence.

“Y/N,” you heard a voice behind you. You knew who it was. You would run to him while everyone else could run away. You wrapped yourself around him, breathing him in. “Is this where you have been? All of these years?”

You nodded and let yourself cry in his chest. Ramsay pushed you away, but kept you close enough to wipe away the tears.

“My quiet girl. Hush now,” he comforted you. “I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone touch you, didn’t I? Don’t cry, sweetling.” Ramsay turned you around for you to see the whole carnage. Greyjoy soldiers and Winterfell natives lay dead on the ground. Snow fell over their bodies creating an eerie sheet over them. Blood seeped into the dirt; this was Bolton land now.

“One day, this will all be mine,” he whispered into your ear. “And my word will be law. You won’t disappear from me again. No one could touch you. You would belong to me.”

“I already belong to you,” you told him. You didn’t let go of him as you kissed him in the cold weather. Your lips parted for a moment. Your forehead touched his. “I’ve missed you terribly.”

“Don’t leave me again. Stay here. Watch me rule over them all,” Ramsay’s gloved hand lifted your chin.

“Yes my lord.” You smiled, melting to his touch. You fell for him when the sky was gray and ugly, and you would always fall for him.

[thankskiara]

Thank you x12 || A Gift for Kiara

The Brain room was packed with delegates of all statures and personalities. Really, how was anything going to get done in all this noise? How would they make this present on time? Felt a bit like Santa's Workshop the night before Christmas, not gonna even lie. Luckily, the person behind the operation knew just who to call. 

"Now if you'll all quiet down--"

"She doesn't even go here." A brunette, youngest of the group, hair braided back into french braids piped up and then immediately shrunk down at the look she got from the poised blonde woman and uttered an apology. What? Mean Girls quotes were always appropriate.

"You know, Haley, I really don't mind Amelia sticking around." The figure lounging in one of the office chairs sideways, tossed her long unruly hair over her shoulder and gave an appraising look to the striking woman.

The former captain let out just the smallest chuckle and then went back to business. "Thank you darling for your flattery but I'm happily coupled. In another life, I'm sure you'd be just the top of my list." She clapped her hands together to get the room back on her again and took a deep breath before she began assuming her role and calling out orders, "In any case, we've got to put something together for Kiara."

"Last I heard Kiara was gone. Left for Kenya."

"Yes, well, it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for your brain, Miss Chino, to be a touch more preoccupied with the one you shagged rather than the one who's out there fighting the good fight. Serving, as is her duty. Holder of a few favorites around these parts."

"It wasn’t even--" Mocha narrowed her eyes as she was cut off.

"Tish tosh. We all saw. There’s no poetry to save you from this. Now, a call for order would be nice from the lot of you. I shant be contributing as I didn't know many of her characters but think of me as a moderator. For when Alex needs a bit of order and her brain to be shipshape she knows I'll have it right as rain in no time." Her posture seemed to get just a bit straighter, if that was even possible as she tucked her hands behind her back and paced the conference room. "Now then, a few of us have been called out of retirement to add a few sentiments so perhaps that may be where to start, don't you think?"

"Ay man, if it's for Kiara, I'll do whatever shit you want me to do." A smaller tanned skinned boy with a shit eating grin on his face sat back in his chair, propping his feet up onto the table.

"Alright then, why don't you elaborate on that, Ignacio."

And with that Tito crossed his arms, feeling a little uncomfortable with divulging that with his head-mates. "Nah, I mean listen, aight, she just cares and so do her people, like a lot and shit. She loved my taste in music man like she vibed. She like had Audrey for a hot minute. Man, she was fuckin' great. She could do someone like whatever that like teenage princess was she had and then turn around and do Audrey and give me shit at the Garage like that? Like she didn’t take any of my bullshit and she still was super likeable as fuck. She was a real piece of work but like in a masterpiece sorta way ya know."

"Eloquent as ever, really. But thank you. Next I think we should have Ja--No Stan. Stanley. Sorry, the other blonde 6ft tall Australian lad who dated Ellie."

A large blonde looked up from where he'd been drawing turtles on a piece of scrap paper and an almost as tall blonde but scruffier behind him just gave an annoyed look and crossed his arms before texting whoever he was texting on his phone. The grinning Australian scratched his head a bit, "Oh! Right yeah. Well, I think Ells and I were the first real interaction between--"

"Ay! Fuck, I forgot about me and GG too. Shit, Kiara is the fuckin' greatest, man. Like Georgette was different than those other two as well. Shit, man.”

A hand came and smacked Tito upside the head as the dark haired woman, arms crossed and just plain annoyed to be here when she had better things to do. She rolled her eyes and in a bored tone just said, "Tito I'll beat the shit out of you again. And you know I can."

Amelia cleared her throat, "Thank you, Megara. Although I would refrain from that until after this meeting is adjourned. As you were saying Mr Schell."

Stan just shrugged and gave a bit of a smile, "It's no worries. Tito and I go way back. I know he was just tryin' ta be helpful." He waved across the table at Tito and Meg before sitting up more in his seat, "Uh, let's see then. Well, yeah Ellie was kind of the first ship Alex and Kiara had. We were Stellie and it was real great even if it had a timeline. Also she loved every turtle thing I did which was kind of a confidence booster for just being myself, Scute and Donatello were best mates after all. But yanno, that whole timeline thing was one thing I think Kiara was really good about. If she had an end, she'd commit to it. She never backed off of that wave once she started paddling, right? She just kept going and going until they just plummeted down under. She knew Ellie wasn't gonna make it and she never shied away from her sickness. She wrote it in and kept it seen and made sure that I was included in it all like I wanted to be. We were both dropped out and retired at about the same time because of outside life reasons but I have no doubt that she'd ride that beautiful ship wave until the end. She was like real enthusiastic about everything. It was really awesome to be part of that and play a role in a story that was made the way it was."

The blonde girl with wild hair next to him looked like she was on the verge of crying and just leaned over and hugged the tall Australian. "Oh Stan, that was so lovely."

"Well, I think that leaves me out of the old and retired crew." A redhead, sat in her chair, arms on either arm rest and one leg crossed over the other, ankle on her knee.

"Yes, Kimberly. You had a different experience as well." 

Kim, the original and the first, well respected in the Head gave a chuckle, "Well, you know. When I first got to Swynlake, I knew no one and then all of a sudden, out came some of my best friends and then came the girl who seemed to be against me from the start. Kiara played Bonnie and Bonnie was just all snark but had her layers for sure. I mean, it totally wasn't like I hated her entirely. Kiara kind of sort of made her likable in a way that like popular people are that draws you in. In any case, it was great to like have that competition again and have unresolved past differences come back. Having your greatest competitor will only push you to be better."

"That and V-Day 2017 had you two hooking up in that locker room. That steam was definitely not from the showers, babe. Don't think we don't remember that tea, sis. Ya'll were on each other like you were fighting for the top of the pyramid. I mean bent ov--"

"Thank you, Hermes. I think we can all remember the fated 2017 singing incidents of the past and would rather leave them in the past." Amelia blocked that Spice Girls moment from her memory at all costs.

"Speak for yourself, henny, I was dressed as cupid and a Lady Gaga singing fool."

"Oh so how you are every day." Mocha smirked over at him and just gave him a wink to which he just clutched his chest and fake gasped like he couldn't believe the shade.

"Alright, alright, back on task. Returners and new characters, anything to add? General comments?"

“Ellie was always a really great roommate to Ly. So I’m grateful for that.” Meg offered with a shrug before leaning back in her seat again, arms crossed.

A much taller redhead than the previous one raised her hand a second before she spoke, "Yeah, I mean I'm kinda new but Elyon's been super cool. I mean I know we've only had a small interaction but I think she's got that whole telekinesis thing going for her and she can paint too. She's got all kinds of wild fairy adventures probably planned."

"Oh! Oh! In addition to what Wendy said!" The blonde who had almost cried over Stan's sweet sentiments before immediately perked up with her own comments, "I think they're all rather lovely in their own ways. You know, I've been here in both phases as have a couple of us returners and really Kiara's been such a source of positivity and enthusiasm. Also she shares my love of exclamation points! Really, truly, she's just been so welcoming and open to plotting with everyone and really I can't thank her enough for being herself as well as helping out in this time in the world."

"Well said, Arista." Amelia just nodded and looked around the room for anyone to volunteer anything further. She spotted a smaller gentleman who's head was just about nodding back and let out a loud snore to which Amelia just said firmly and loud as can be, "Mister Zimmeruski." 

The figure squirmed and snorted as he said in a daze, "I swear I didn't put cheese on the counter, Al. That smear was from the peanut butter."

Luckily Jake who hadn't been paying much attention just shook his shoulder a bit, "Alright, mate, you're up. Tell the class what we've learned."

Bobby's eyes opened as he looked around, "Whoa this is like every bad classroom dream trip I've ever had, bro. Like called to the front by the stern but hot teacher lady and just like--" He immediately looked down and sighed a bit of relief, holding up a small fist in victory, "Alright man, I didn't go to class without pants again."

"Mister Zimmeruski." Amelia said again.

"Whoa, okay, Miss Smol-der-let. Let's like calm the tone a little also like Mr. Robert Zimmeruski is legit my dad so like can we all just take it down a level." He looked around the room and paused a moment, "Wait, so what are we talking about?" Jake leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "Oh! Oh dope, awesome. Yeah like Kiara is totally on an extra chee-za level in my book, guys. Like her characters are bomb and probably put up with like a ton of my bullshit." He laughed a bit. “But she was like really nice and totally, definitely, wanted to help me get dates and stuff even if she didn’t say it, I could like feel that emo-tion, so like yeah, definitely always available for that assist with that wrist you know. Like flick of the wrist, get the gist my fam." He smirked over at Mocha, "How'd you like the rhymes, babe?"

Before Mocha could react Amelia immediately swooped in, "Alright, everyone back to your locations. Off you go before I get the worst migraine of my three decades on this earth. All of this will be compiled and given to Kiara as a present." She sighed under her breath, "Lord help us all."

As the room cleared out, Amelia turned and looked directly into the camera, sighing and crossing her arms, "I apologize on behalf of Alex's brain, Kiara. Really we all thank you for your hard work and dedication. If anyone were to be steadfast and true throughout all of this its you. We all wish you the safest of days and nights and that this situation ends itself quickly and efficiently without more chaos and undue unpleasantness. Carry on and we'll all be here for you when your crazy days have stifled, no matter how dysfunctional we and this community may also be, you're part of us and us you. We all miss you quite dearly and hope for your safe return in the near future once this invisible adversary has been dealt with."

---

Well, that kind of sums everything up but, we all miss you and are just sending you all the good vibes as you battle on the frontlines of this pandemic. It's because of people like you that we're continuing to fight back against all of this craziness.

Hope you enjoy this weird and slightly insane little look into things past and present between us as a token of my thanks and admiration.

Wishing you so much luck, good health and hoping you're getting at least some sleep out there, Alex

[jjohnsonwriter]

“Extraterestrial Homesick Blues”

MONDAY

The drive to work was all bumper to bumper traffic, and the AC from my 2013 Ford Taurus was just a colder form of CO2 poisoning. I miss the Lincoln, but Liz got that in the divorce too. 

I walked into the common room where all the residents were sitting around, watching TV, playing checkers coated in that special chemical that tastes like earwax. It doesn’t always keep the residents from swallowing the plastic pieces, but it helps.

“Hello, Dr. K!” Nurse Hatchet said. You could tell she had huge tits under all that uniform, even though she must have been like 50-something and she dressed like a nun.

“Hello nurse Hatchet, how are you this fine morning?” 

“Quite well, Doctor Kierkegaard. And yourself?”

“Well I’m feeling exceptionally… Refreshed, I guess would be the word!”

Rhonda, one of the orderlies, looked over at us smiled.

I waved out each finger from my hand individually at her. “Hi, Rhonda!”

“Hello, Dr. K. Good to see you today.” She took a resident’s temperature.

Hospital regulations are that we sign in when we come and go so that if anyone tries to use our key cards it’s kept in a log, that way we know if anyone’s stolen our card, which wouldn’t be good.  So I followed procedure, writing my name and the time on the sheet and started to walk to my office to get checked in, but before I got past the desk I noticed something was going on in the common room where Rhonda was standing over Artie Tremond’s wheelchair.

“Will you just hold still so I can do this?” Rhonda said, fumbling with his head as he lolled back and forth, trying to escape her grasp.

Artie was sitting in the corner with Rhonda standing over him, going on about how he had just about had it with Wellington. “Sacré blue! Zat goddamn sepoy général! E’ asé made a mockery ove’ mah impériale guard!” Tremolds said, then spat on the floor. 

“Now Artie, you know we’re not supposed to be spitting on the floor! Behave yourself so I can finish.” Rhonda chided him.

“Artie...” Nurse Hatchet reminded warned him without looking up from her papers. Sometimes Nurse Hatchet acted like she was the patient’s mother, which I found disturbing in it’s own way.

“That’s OK, he just needs his medication early today.” Rhonda walked back into a plexiglass enclosure and locked the door behind her. She opened the closet and began allotting the medication in paper cups with the wax paper cups of water on plastic trays.

Then I noticed a new patient sitting off to the side of the room, slumped way down low in the chair. His eyes were glazed over as he stared into the middle distance, not moving, and barely even breathing. His hair was all combed up in a greased pompadour like some kind of James Dean knockoff.  

I leaned over Nurse Hatchet’s desk and smiled. “Do you have the new patient’s chart?”

“Yes, but I’d better warn you. Watch yourself around that one, I don’t like the look of him.”

“Oh yeah? Did you get your heart broken by one of those guys back in the day?” 

She narrowed her eyes and looked up at me from papers she was pretending to read. “First of all, I’m not nearly that old. And secondly…” She caught my eyes wandering down onto her massive bosom. How does it all stay in there? 

“And secondly, My eyes are up here, Doctor Kierkegaard!”

“Right! Sorry Nurse Hatchet, I was just trying to read this patient’s file.” I lied, and pointed to some obscure piece of information in one of the files on her desk.

“That’s a requisition form for bedpans!” She chided me.

“I know. I just uh… wanted to make sure it gets done right… intra department oversight is a key feature of institutional safeguards against-” 

She shot me with another steely look. Unable to meet her gaze, I darted my eyes around the room.

“I guess I’d better-” I gestured to the new patient: Elvis Presley or James Dean, or some piece of 50’s obscura shat back out by the annals of the 20th century.

Nurse Hatchet leaned forward “Well I guess you’d better…” she said, shooing me off.

I walked over to the new patient and read his chart. Danny Califia: depression, claims he’s… an alien! Oh great. Why do I always get the crazy ones first thing in the morning?

I stood in front of him and very self consciously pulled my lips into the best smile I could muster, knowing my bedside manner was about on the level of Josef Mengele.

“Hello Danny, I’m Dr. Eric Kierkegaard, but most people just call me Dr. K.” He stuck out his arm limply, and took my hand with a firm grip shook hard. Even through the impenetrable lenses of his dark wayfarers I knew he was looking me right in the eye.

“You probly think I’m crazy doc, don’tcha?” Danny pulled a black comb from his ankle boots and sculpted his black pompadour.

“Well the thing about calling somebody ‘crazy’ is that it’s dismissive. It doesn’t get at the underlying problem a person is experiencing.” I started towards intake room four.  “I want to talk to you, just to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay…” he said. Poor bastard. He looks like he’s just about my age, stuck in a place like this in that getup. Hey I’m not judging, but still.

The first thing you learn in this job is ‘take everything they say with a grain of salt’. If you can’t do that, then you’ve already lost it. I was sitting in room four with this new patient: Danny Califia. Danny was a self-admit, although I had no idea why he was there. He seemed perfectly normal, except for the 50’s greaser shtick. The room where we met was like any other in the L.A. County psychiatric hospital: modern, sleek, off white with the faint smell of piss-stained bed sheets and slobbered tongue guards coming through the gap of air flowing between the door’s sill and the floor. Intake room number four had the same problem as every other room in the hospital: the fluorescent lighting was way too bright. You had to close your eyes and blink a few times every couple minutes just to make sure they didn’t dry up and fall out of their sockets.

I flipped through his intake file: personal history of depression, family history of schizophrenia, no known schizoid episodes. “So Danny, what brings you here today?” 

Danny pursed his lips in a rattlesnake kiss. “Yeah doc, I got the blues. Got the blues so bad I could just die.” 

It’s never somebody normal, it’s never a schizophrenic who just shits himself. No, always the crazy, off the walls, ‘couldn’t make this stuff up’ weirdos. “Well Danny, that sounds pretty serious.”

“ ‘Course it’s serious doc! I got the blues so bad I could just up an’ die!” He shouted, the sunglasses sliding down to the tip of his nose, and I could see his eyes were red with tears. He glanced up and caught me looking, then pushed the glasses back up to hide his tears. 

I looked him up and down. It’s like he saw Rebel Without a Cause or The Wild One and just got lost in it. I guess there’s no accounting for taste. “So Danny, tell me why you’re here.”

“Well Doc, I’m…” He started to cry. 

This isn’t just an act: maybe this guy’s just stuck in a timewarp. 

“I’m jus’ so goddamn homesick.” Danny pushed the sunglasses up the bridge of his nose again and shrank down into the chair, but that didn’t stop the tears running out under his shades.

I flipped through his intake file and loosened my tie. “Danny, where’s home? It seems you didn’t list an address when you were admitted.”

“Well the thing is Doc: I didn’t want to lie, but I knew they wouldn’t believe me.”

“Believe you about what, Danny?”

“Well the thing is Doc: I’m an Alien.”

I don’t know why I balk anymore. Half the fucking people in here seem to think they’re either Charlemagne or Jesus Christ. But an alien? That’s a new one.

“Uh… What’s the name of your home planet, Danny?”

He slid down into the chair and put one arm around the backrest. “Aww geez doc, I can’t say. It’d take me a real long time to say the whole thing out loud, like we’re talking days, doc.” 

“Well is there a shorthand? Like a ‘slang’ for your home planet?” Sometimes it’s hard to stomach this stuff: to act like you believe them, but trying to understand the full scope of their delusions is part of the process, and I needed Danny to trust me. 

He shook his head. “You ain’t gonna believe this doc but uhh, they’re real strict about slang on my home planet. You either say the whole thing, find a way around saying it, or die the thousand deaths of the Krzcha Auoot Kn’onraa.” He leaned forward to peer over the top of  my clipboard. “Oh, if you’re writn’ that down doc, it’s a proper noun, so you gotta capitalize the first letter of each word.”

I found myself making the corrections to ‘Krzcha Auoot Kn’onraa’. Wait, what the fuck am I doing!?

I decided I couldn’t let him deerail me. I had to keep the conversation on my terms, and follow my line of logic.  “But Danny, how will they know you’re not saying the whole thing? How will they know you’re abbreviating the name if they’re on a different planet?” I know he’s going to have something stupid loaded up for this, and I’m just walking face first into a trap.

“They got satellites in my teeth, doc!” This guy’s fucking nuts!

“How exactly does an alien know what a proper noun is?”

“Uh… do you think we’re stupid, doc? Course’ we’re hip to your Earth ways, ya dig?” He reached into his boot and scratched his ankle. “Hey daddy o’, you got any smokes ‘round here!?” 

“Sorry Danny, this whole hospital’s a tobacco free campus.” God I need a cigarette. “So on…” I looked down at the paper and read whatever nonsense I’d just written down, “So on ‘Krzcha Auoot Kn’onraa’, they punished you for slang?”

“No doc, Krzcha Auoot Kn’onraa is just the cat that they executed for using the slang name of -!” Danny’s eyebrows shot up over the top of his sunglasses, and he scooped the air back into his mouth with both hands, forcing the words back down his throat. 

Danny slammed his fists down on the table and shouted at me: “JEEZ DOC, WHADDAYA TRYNA DO? GET ME KILLED?” 

“Danny, I just want to-”

“-Doc, whatareya writn’ a book!? You think we didn’t do our homework, is that it?” I wrote down the words on notepad: book-homework. He scratched the back of his head, then the little prick pulled a cigarette out of nowhere and lit up. He was just about my age, maybe a year or two younger, or older even, but he acted like an 18 year old kid.

“Danny, you can’t smoke that in here.”

He exhaled a long drag right in my face. “Listen, daddy-o-”

My eyes stung from the hot smoke. “-It’s Doctor Kierkegaard, or ‘Doctor K’.” I warned him.

The room filled with secondhand and I looked up at the smoke detectors blinking red light, but for some reason it wouldn’t go off. Then my eyes darted up at the clock. 9:03: three minutes late for my next meeting. Thank God! “Well Danny, I’m afraid since I’ve got other meetings that’s all the time we have for today.”

He leaned the chair back on two legs. “Well doc, I’d say it’s been a pleasure but…” 

What a prick.

TUESDAY

I drove to work that morning and pulled into my spot, even later than usual from traffic. I was on the phone with my lawyer all the way to work, trying to get this alimony resettled with Liz, but of course she’s trying to go to school for acupuncture or astrology or some other horseshit. Apparently if I get a raise under state law she can do that, which would explain the guy skulking outside my apartment last night with the fake moustache hanging from his upper lip by a four inch strand of spirit gum. God, I’m going to do myself a favor and just shoot my next ex wife in the head right after the honeymoon. I’d way rather be Scott Peterson than the asshole who gets taken for a ride.

When I walked in Danny was talking to Artie Tremonds and smoking a cigarette under the smoke alarm. “You know, I used to hang with the real Napoleon. Class act. Nuthin’ like yours truly.” Danny looked up at the ceiling and exhaled a blue ring of directly into the smoke detector. 

“Sacré Bleu!” Tremonds darted his head around the room. “Nurseh! Nurseh! Thisa man haz leet a cigarette in ze nonsmoking area!”

“Some Napoleon! The real one used to smoke like a chimney!” 

Rhonda saw Danny standing next to Tremonds, and it made her nervous. “Hey!” She said, hustling over to them. “You get away from him, right now!” 

He tried to wave her off, but she stood there ignoring him, and apparently nobody noticed me enter the room. “And gimme that cigarette!” Rhonda demanded. Danny gave her the smoldering Kool and retreated to the back corner of the room to pout.

I checked in and called to him from interview room four. “All right Danny, we’re going to continue your intake evaluation.”

“ ‘S fine. This place is a drag anyway, man.” He said to nobody in particular, and Rhonda rolled her eyes as we filed into the dull green intake room. I opened the door, holding it for Danny as I coughed, choking on the stench of stale piss. God, was this place always such a shithole?

“So Danny, when we last left off we were talking about…” I had to look at my notepad to read whatever delusion this guy had come up with as a backstory. “Krzcha Auoot Kn’onraa, and how you’re from another planet. Would you care to elaborate on that?” I thought I heard Danny go ‘chk’, like he was sucking his teeth or something, but I should have known better.

“Yeah well, one day the warden was having a party, see? I was up in county, then the prison band starts playin’, n’ it was ca-ray-zee! I’m talkin’ everybody in the whole cell block, spider murphy playin’ on the saxophone, little Joey blowin’ on the slide trombone. You shoulda heard those knocked out jailbirds sing!”

I realized what he was doing, then I looked up at him, and if I wasn’t already furious then by that point I was down right livid. “Danny!” I snapped, taking the cigarette out of his mouth that he’d lit while I wasn’t looking, “That’s the plot of fucking ‘Jailhouse Rock’; the fucking ELVIS SONG!” The little bastard just looked at me with a shit-eating grin smeared all over his stupid fucking face! 

“HAHAHAHA, sorry daddy-o, you just get so cranked up over nothin’!”

“Oh, you think you’re really fucking funny, don’t you!?”

I stood up, and backed over to the intercom and pressed the button. “Nurse, bring the patient to solitary, he needs to be heavily sedated.”

“You folks know hot to have a real good time round here!” He shouted at me, then the huge orderlies dragged him off, kicking and screaming. He snarled, raising his lip on one side, looked like he was winking at me or something, stomping one foot in rhythm as they hauled him off. He shouted at me “You ain't nothin but a hound-!” then they jammed the needle into his neck, and shot him full of promethazine hydrochloride. Danny went out like a light, and the two huge nurses hauled him off to his room, his heels dragging on the linoleum, and the right leg shaking every couple seconds in some kind of uncontrolled spasm.

I stood there in my padded cell, looking up at that blue moon, all alone. I opened my mouth with a dream in my heart and a private love all my own. As I tilted my head back and opened wide, my molars popped open like the hood of your grandaddy’s old Studebaker. Little satellite dishes shot up from of my teeth, and I could hear the mothership calling down to me. It said: “Little Rocketman, are you homesick? Do you miss your wife? It’s going to be a long, long time until touchdown brings you round again. We’ll bring you home, and we know you’ll prove us right: we know you’ll prove you’re the man we think you are.” 

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think I’m all burned up. Earth ain’t the kinda place to raise your kids. In fact, it’s cold as hell.” 

“Should we destroy it?” 

I paused, and thought about it for a minute. “Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s give them a shot, see how they do.”

WEDNESDAY:

‘Hump day’. That’s what they call it. Yeah, ‘hump day’ my ass! I know I shouldn’t be so pessimistic. At least I’m almost halfway through. Now if I could just get rid of this patient. 

Thank god the hippocratic oath is just for physicians. Apparently it’s not enough that work is a shit-show. Last night at my apartment, I could have sworn I caught that P.I. digging through the dumpsters! Lucky for him the vietnamese couple taking care of their great grandmother had just taken out their trash, which was full of the old woman’s shit-caked diapers. I’ve been in this business long enough to know the acrid stench of human waste. Although you don’t need to be Columbo to figure out there’s just about jack shit on me in my fucking trash. But hey, let the bastard have at it! ‘As you wish’, asshole!

I pulled into the parking lot and found who else but Nurse Hatchet into my spot. Furious, I walked into the office and dressed her down.

“Nurse Hatchet.”

“Mmmmmyello?” she said as I pinched my brow and shook my head.

“You do realize you’re parked in my spot, right?”

She hadn’t looked up from whatever paperwork she was fumbling over and I dropped my keys down onto the counter. She still didn’t look up.

“HEY!” I snapped, and instantly realized my mistake.

Nurse Hatchet stood up and leaned over the desk, pressing her face right up to me, and I couldn’t help but look down at her enormous rack. “Doctor Kierkegaard, there’s no need to get testy with me, I’m just trying to do my job, the same as you, the same as anybody, alright!?” She said, and Rhonda added: “You tell em’!” pushing a wheelchair to the storage closet.

I realized something was wrong. People like Rhonda and nurse Hatchet aren’t always the most cognizant of their surroundings or their mental state, but somebody like myself… well, ‘knows better’ isn’t exactly the right word, but still…

Something was changing in her, in Rhonda, in me… well, all of us really. It wasn’t just that people were rude, that’s to be expected after a certain trudging through the daily slog of working life, but it’s that something had fundamentally changed in the hospital. I could tell something was wrong, and it wasn’t just my god-damned parking spot! It was the whole hospital: staff, residents, everything!

That day I was doing rounds, which meant dealing with one of the hospital’s two hundred patients for twenty minutes, spending another hour writing a report, then going to the next one. I call this the ‘chicken nugget’ approach to psychiatric healthcare, because it’s cookie cutter, and woefully insufficient to actually addressing the problems of a very sick and desperate human being struggling in the grasp of the state. Today I was going to see Artie Tremonds, a man who came to the L.A. county Psychiatric Hospital in 1998, and since slipping into a delusional state in which he believed from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep (and strangely enough, even when he was asleep) that he literally was Napoleon Bonaparte, some time after he’d been exiled on the island of Saint Helena after having been defeated by the British and abdicating the throne. For the last 20 years Tremonds had made literally no progress whatsoever.

But today when I asked him some basic questions he started getting evasive in the weirdest ways.

“Do you still think that you’re Napoleon Boneparte?”

“You sinkeh you are-ah the only one wiz ze cleepboard, eh? You sinkeh zat just because you and ze British ‘ave trapped me ‘ere zat I will die of zis sickness!?”

Exhausted from an already long week, I tried to reason with Artie, a man fundamentally impervious to reason. I held up a mirror in front of him.  “But can’t you see when you look in the mirror that you’re not Napoleon?”

Artie had white hair, a small, squat head, and he was tall, lanky old Irishman. In his youth he’d been one of the best defenders in college basketball, but now in his 80s he was just a liverspotted old wreck: someone who’d spent years researching french history and slipped into a world of delusion, where the only facts that mattered were his own.

He only looked at his reflection for an instant, before waving me off with one of his long, freckled arms covered in white hair. “Zis is just a trick of the British! Ze real foe is right zere!” He said, pointing to directly at me. “If you want ze real culprit you must turn your ze mirror of deception on yourself, and you will zee yourzelf for awhat you really are: a fake!”

We had almost been making real progress before this, but now Artie was ready to throw it all away, but I had no idea why.

“But it’s obvious you’re not Napoleon. He died almost 200 years ago! Don’t you remember the life you led before you came to this place? Don’t you remember your family, or your-”

He slammed his long arm on the table, and suddenly I was terrified. “You! You are ze liar! I am trying to do somesing great here, and you do no-sing but stymie me at every turn! Damn you! Damn you, you liar!”

“Artie,” I said, “What’s wrong? Everything was going so well just last week, but now you’re fighting the staff, you won’t take your medication, and you’re trying to bite people, refusing to cooperate-”

He shouted over me,  “AHA! ZAT IZ ZE WORD, NO? La Coopération!” Artie spat on the ground, reinforcing his Napoleonic mannerism. “You, ze enemy of liberty, and ze arbiter wiz your thumb on ze scale! You; the man who would rape and defile ze sweet ladies of Liberty and Justice in a ménage à trois impie!”

He lunged at me, and just as I jumped back I ran to the door, the old man leapt from his wheelchair like a cat, skulking towards me, shoulders raised: some great irish lion and me, trapped in what was now his den. I reached behind me with my keycard and swiped at the scanner I couldn’t see. “BEEP!” I heard the electronic lock open and stepped through the door, slamming it shut after me, Artie’s face pressed up against the glass: his burst capillaries and maligned blackheads were crystal clear in the hallway’s glaring light, and the leering eyes of a madman following me as I turned to run away.

THURSDAY:

I should have listened to my old man. But sometimes you’re too stupid to know good advice when you hear it, and I’m not getting any younger. I really wish I could have kept making the payments on that Lincoln, but it was too much with my rent and the fucking alimony. I really loved that car. Hopefully the cunt gets cancer or something like that. Cunt-cancer… That’d serve her right!

After I reported the incident with Artie yesterday I decided to take the rest of the day off. He’s been heavily sedated and locked up since then, or so I’m told. I used to be more compassionate, but at this point I say fuck it: lock ‘em all up and throw away the key.

I walked in and Danny was just sitting there smoking like a goddamn chimney.

“Nurse Hatchet! What the fuck is Danny doing smoking, in the fucking common room!?” I turned to nurse Hatchet, who was showing so much clevage her titts were practically hanging out, not to mention she was smoking too. 

“Yeah well, what’s it matter to you anyway!?” She said, jabbing at me with her lit cigarette.

“If you keep talking to me like that you’re going to find yourself out of a job pretty soon!” I straightened my tie and said to her: “And what are YOU doing smoking in here!? This is a goddamn hospital, not a…” I struggled to think of a place where smoking wasn’t banned in California, and came up short. 

“A what?” She took another drag.

“Just put it out!”

She leered at me. “Or you’ll what, huh?”

Danny came over to us and ripped a drag. “Hey there dolly-” he said, lowering his glasses to show nurse Hatchet he was looking right at her tits. They were huge, and they weren’t the worse for wear either, considering her age. 

I shook myself out of it and scolded her again: “I will call the inspector general if this doesn’t get sorted out quickly, nurse Hatchet!” Danny was standing there in his leather jacket, smoking a cigarette. I spun around and scolded her again. “And put out that goddamn cigarette! You too Danny!”

She smiled, and I caught her and Danny making eyes with each other. “Don’t look at HIM, nurse Hatchet! He’s the goddamn patient! Or have you forgotten that!?” 

She chuckled, and he made a little spinning motion in the air with his finger to say ‘whoopty fuckin’ doo’. Shocked, my jaw dropped as I saw nurse Hatchet turn around and bend all the way over and stick her ass out. Danny started feeling his visible erection through the front of his jeans in an obscene and lurid display while he looked me in the eye and licked his lips. “Jesus Christ!?” I shouted, horrified, and called out for the orderlies: “Somebody get over here, RIGHT NOW!” and two huge guys showed up, Saul and Greg. Nice enough, but I’m pretty sure they barely had enough combined IQ to turn a doorknob, let alone screw in a lightbulb. “Saul, thank god you’re here!” I said, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Can you take Danny back to his room, please?” I wiped the sweaty forearm off on my shirt. “Oh, and take away his cigarettes! I think he keeps them in his boot or something!”

They looked at each other as if there were anything to confer about, then turned to me, and in perfect unison said: “Yeah, sure thing Doc.” Danny didn’t resist. I think he knew if he struggled, they’d probably pull one of his arms out of the socket, seeing as how each of them was about twice his size and then some. He was just puffing that fucking cigarette up all the way off to his cell.

FRIDAY:

There was a pile-up on the I-10, so traffic was backed up from Palm Springs all the way to Coachella, which was a fucking nightmare. The rattling AC in my Ford Taurus finally shit the bed halfway up the freeway, and my balls were in nut-soup by the time I hit the traffic jam. I was just about knocked out from the stench wafting up from my crotch, and I stank like a Skid Row bum. 

“Nurse Hatchet?” I said, walking into the hospital. There were bloody footprints leading in every direction out of the supply closet around the corner.

The closet had been raided. Empty needles with their plungers depressed all the way, dozens of childproof caps rolled off in myriad geometries, and a minefield of broken pill bottles scowled up at me from the floor, their casualties’ blood pools and subsequent spoors leading out from the closet like some crimson fractal or otherwise sanguinary stampede.

Following the bloody footprints down a long hallway where they all congregated, I saw that Danny was sitting off to the side while Artie Tremonds was sitting behind a desk stacked up on a pile of mattresses, holding court.

“You ‘ave been found guilty, monsieur Hutchner, of committing treason and acts of sedition against ze state!” Tremonds barked from my office chair, which overlooked the whole room up on its platform of piss-stained mattresses stacked up underneath him on the cafeteria floor.

Lance Hutchner, one of the only patients I felt was making any progress was on his knees before the kangaroo court. He dropped down on all fours and began to beg. “Please! Please, please let me go! I didn’t do anything!”

Artie kept a stiff upper lip and motioned to his bailiffs dressed in their unbound straightjackets. They flanked Hutchner, lifted him to his feet, and dragged him over to a restraint chair, strapping him down at the wrists, elbows, shoulders, waists, and just about every other joint. Then they put a large box over his head and duct-taped it around his neck.

One of the patients walked over to Hutchner and held up a pair of scissors, ready to stab air holes right into the face of his cardboard box.

“Wait, stop!” I shouted, and all eyes turned to me.

Danny walked out of a darkened corner in the back of the room and stood next to an oxygen tank with a smoldering Kool in his mouth.

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t our old pal, Doc K.” He took a drag, pulled the cigarette out, and let it hang in his limp arm, inches away from the oxygen hose of the pressurized air tank.

My heart started racing at, and all the lunatics gazed on me with slavering intent. “Danny! Stop all this! Make these people go back to their rooms, and let’s talk about how we can get you back to…” I struggled to comb my memory for whatever dumbassed name he’d made up for his home planet- “K’nooch oon-raa!”

Danny narrowed his eyes, took another drag, then smiled. “You hear that guys? He wants to talk!” The murder of mad men stood cackling, hooting and howling as can only the wretched and the damned. I figured if I didn’t resolve the situation in about forty-five seconds I’d probably be tied up in a chair of my own, or worse. But then I felt a stinging pain in my neck, and the room went black.

When I woke up in the dark room I could smell Danny’s cigarette.

“Doc? You up, Doc?”

“Yes.”

“You see why I did it, don’t you doc?”

“No, please Danny, enlighten me.”

“Well, they wanted to blow you up. You and your whole planet. But I decided I had to stop them, or at least try.”

“Then why do all this!? Why go to all this trouble and not just blow the fucking thing up!?”

“Well doc, we got a saying. It doesn’t really translate too well, but loosely it means: ‘If they’re worth killing, they’re worth saving’. You know that Earth expression: the enemy of my enemy is my friend?”

“Yes.”

“Well basically, if your enemy is a threat, you’d better make sure you know all his tricks before you kill him. If he dies, so do all his weapons and tactics, so we had to make sure we figured out all your Earth ways before we shot you down.”

“And so now you’re experimenting with lies!? How could a society so advanced it can put a person lightyears away into a different species’ body and blend them into their society!? Danny, you’re not an alien, you’re just fucking crazy!”

He sighed. “I was afraid you might say that, doc. But the pencil necks back home figured you’d have to cop to it before we could nix this big blue rock.”

“Cop to what?” I asked.

“We figured we’d have to get you to say something you knew wasn’t true, only you’d have to believe it. You’d have to lie, but without being dishonest, you dig?”

I could see the cherry red tip of his cigarette as he walked over to me from behind, and he stood at the end of whatever table I was strapped to.

“No Danny! No! What do you mean!? What are you talking about!?”

He heaved another sigh and seemed genuinely sad about whatever he was about to do. “Well I’m sorry Doc. I’m real sorry it’s gotta be this way, but…”

[signofharrystimes-blog]

Supermarket Flowers

I’m frankly quite nervous about this, seeing as it’s the first time anybody will see my writing besides myself concluded. This is just a small blurb, that I think might be really adorable. 

Summary; The days after a fight are the best 

Characters; Harry and Y/N [female]

Word Count; 1524

Warnings; flashbacks, fighting, glass warning with a bit of blood, a bit of cursing, calling someone a gold digger? and mention of a grandmother’s death. 

Overall Rating; PG-15

Your Point of View 

You woke up to the smell of expensive cologne, and burnt waffles. You rolled over, and knew exactly why it smelled like burnt waffles. Harry always made, well tried to make, waffles after a big fight. He knew they were your favourite, and all he wanted was to apologize no matter who was at fault. Last night was one of thew worst fights you had been in with him in two years. You were both throwing things, fuming at the mouth with anger, but you lost it when he had thrown a picture of you both at a random county fair onto the ground. You could still hear the glass shattering, some pieces embedded them into your feet. The moment was replaying itself in your mind before you could sit up. 

Last Night 

“You’re not listening to me! I am so proud of you, and I love you. I just have things to do here, you can’t expect me to travel half way across the world with you!”

He looked a bit offended, his nose scrunching up, but not in the way where he had tasted something a bit too strong for him, or when he laughed and his eyes lit up. He was disgusted, to put it nicely. 

“What do you have to do? sit here and spend my money? I mean if that’s what you call working, then go ahead. Sometimes I think the media may be right about you.” 

His voice was filled with menace as she spit out word for word, his large hand bare without the multiple rings. Your mouth was dropping with every word before you shut it Tears were brimming in your eyes, and before you could let out even a sigh his hand collides with the photo sitting the lamp table sending little glass chunks in every direction. Your hands went over your mouth, as you gaped. You didn’t notice one piece now lodged in your foot, the emotional pain had already taken over. The tears now sliding down your flushed cheeks and onto the shattered glass. If you listened closely you’d be able to hear his ragged breath, from yelling and your labored breathes. 

You had looked up from the broken picture wondering if your relationship was broken as well. Your hands dropping back to your sides. You could see a small glittering piece of glass stuck right below his eye. Then you cursed the Gods that it hadn’t gone in his eye, but you never really meant that. When he turned his eyes to your face, the colour drained from your face, your eyelashes sticky with tears and your hair flat against your head. He immediately regretted everything he had said, his heart dropping what felt 10,000 miles. He quickly stepped to come closer to you and you flinched. You could barely let out a no, one of your hands shooting out to stop him from coming any closer. 

“Please love, ‘m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it.”

His voice was now broken, a complete opposite of the one standing in front of you not five minutes ago. 

“No, don’t” 

Your voice was yet above a whisper, not the one you both used when giggling softly under the white sheets telling stories, or when you went to dinner and neither of you could wait, or the whisper you would stutter out when he would surprise you at work or make you blush a shade of burgundy. This was Harry’s least avourite whisper. This whisper was the one he had the pleasure of not having to hear very often. The last time you whispered like that was at your Grandmother’s funeral. You were both close, always being at her aid when she so much as asked someone to get the newspaper. You had been quiet for days, whispering the words

“No, Don’t” as they lowered her into the cold ground. That was before you started shaking the sobs bubbling from your throat. He had to steady you by wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest letting you get tears and snot all over his limited edition Gucci top that cost a fortune, his heart dropping what felt like 10,000 miles in that moment. 

You sunk to your knees, little glass pieces tearing through the sensitive skin. Harry felt paralyzed, his body shutting down, tears now bubbling in his eyes. You rummaged through the glass, getting few cuts as you gripping onto the bare picture. The pair of lovers in that picture looked so happy, so in love. It confused you, as you couldn’t remember who was in that picture. She looked exactly like you, but she looked happier. The boy was smiling, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as she looked up at him with adoration filling her whole being. 

You let the picture fall back down to the ground, got up abruptly and left. The door slamming rang through Harry’s ears. He stood there for another hour maybe, in his hand the picture you had held. He couldn’t describe how he felt. He would rather endure a thousand painful deaths all worse than the last, then to see you in pain. He had made a promise that he would never hurt you, yet he did. 

You were sat in your shared bathroom, a pair of forceps in one hand and a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol in the other. You seemed to not find an end to the glass stuck into your feet, or knees. You heard the door opening, and knew it could only be one thing; Harry. You knew he would come through the door without knocking, his tail between his legs, his head down and mumble an apology hoping you don’t make him sleep on the couch because he found he couldn’t sleep without you in his arms.

You hummed softly hearing his now bare feet walking in. He sat on the floor opposite of you, his eyes traveling to the glass on the floor. Some of it having dabbles of blood in it, and some not. He bit down on his lip sighing deeply. 

“It’s okay Harry.”

“It’s bloody not!”

You looked up at his frame, his eyes red and puffy like yours. You held eye contact for a minute before you looked back down to your foot covered bandage. I didn’t take long before you were finished with yourself, and moved to Harry. You brushed the hair from his face, quickly picking the glass from his face, and connecting your lips as you placed the new alcohol soaked cotton ball on his cut. 

“What was that for? Aren’t you mad?”

“The cotton ball stings.” 

He nodded a oh shape forming on his face. The rest of helping him clean the injuries was short. Before it was two am you were both standing there fresh from the shower. It wasn’t sexual last night, just love. You helped each other dress, his hands loitering on your hips for a moment more than normal. 

“Goodnight Harry.”

“G’night ‘ove.” 

Shaking your head, you stepped onto the carpeted floor wincing at the small injuries on your feet. You stretched your arms looking around. Standing up fully you went to the bathroom, doing your usual morning routine. By the time you made your way to the kitchen Harry was done, sitting on the island a cup of hot coffee in his hand. 

There was a vase sitting in the middle of the kitchen. Your eyes lit up seeing as it was your favourite flowers arranged in a nice bouquet. It wasn’t what he usually got you, a diamond necklace or some new designer bag you couldn’t hold without wanting to put it down afraid of ruining it. You pattered over to the flowers taking in their scent. 

“They’re from the grocery store.”

“Yeah, I called your mum. She told me which one you like the best. If you don’;t like ‘em I can go and get different ones.” 

He was stuttering, and it was darn near impossible to giggle at his nervousness. 

“It’s perfect, they’re perfect. The waffles though? Not so much.” 

You both let out a hearty laugh, both knowing it was real. Both of you knew there was going to be a long road until you got back to where you were, but you were happy trekking it with him, as was he. That Sunday morning in the kitchen, the only light emitted from the fridge. Harry Styles saw a glimpse of the girl he fell in love with.