#Sell House Fast In Redding CA

[proestateus]

How to Choose Cash Home Buyers For Your House in Nashville?

If you're looking to sell your home in Nashville, you might be wondering how to choose cash home buyers. Cash home buyers can be a great option if you need to sell your house quickly, but it's important to choose the right buyer to ensure a fair deal. In this guest post, we'll discuss some tips on how to choose the best cash home buyer for your house in Nashville.

Research Cash Home Buyers in Nashville

The first step in choosing the best cash home buyer for your house is to research the companies in Nashville. You can start by looking at their websites, reading reviews, and checking their credentials. It's important to work with a reputable company that has a proven track record of buying houses for cash. You can also ask for recommendations from friends, family, or your real estate agent.

Check Their References

Once you have a list of potential cash home buyers in Nashville, it's important to check their references. A reputable company should be able to provide you with references from previous clients who have sold their homes to them. You can contact these references to get an idea of their experience with the company and how the process went.

Check Their Credentials

Before you choose a cash home buyer, make sure to check their credentials. The company should be licensed and insured, and they should be able to provide proof of their credentials upon request. Working with a licensed and insured company can give you peace of mind knowing that you're working with a reputable business.

Understand the Process

Before you choose a cash home buyer, it's important to understand the process. The process of selling your home to a cash home buyer is different from a traditional sale, and it's important to know what to expect. A reputable company will be transparent about the process and should be able to answer any questions you may have.

Get Multiple Quotes

To ensure you're getting a fair deal, it's important to get multiple quotes from different cash home buyers in Nashville. This will give you an idea of what your house is worth and what you can expect to receive for it. Be wary of companies that offer significantly less than others, as this may be a red flag.

Consider Their Reputation

When choosing a cash home buyer, it's important to consider their reputation in the industry. You can check their reputation by looking at their reviews and ratings online. You can also check with the Better Business Bureau to see if they have any complaints or negative reviews.

Look for a Company That Offers a Fast Closing

One of the main benefits of working with a cash home buyer is that you can close quickly. If you need to sell your house fast, look for a company that can close within a few days or weeks. A reputable company should be able to give you an estimate of how long the process will take.

Read the Contract Carefully

Before you sign a contract with a cash home buyer, make sure to read it carefully. A reputable company will be transparent about their fees and the terms of the sale. If you have any questions or concerns, don't hesitate to ask. It's important to fully understand the terms of the sale before you sign.

Don't Rush the Process

While it's important to sell your house quickly, it's also important not to rush the process. Take the time to research different cash home buyers in Nashville and choose the one that is the best fit for you. Don't be afraid to ask questions or take your time to consider your options.

FAQs

What should I look for in a cash home buyer in Nashville?

Look for a buyer with a good reputation and experience in the local real estate market.

Check if they have a physical office and a website with customer reviews and testimonials.

Make sure they have enough funds to purchase your property without delay.

How do I find cash home buyers in Nashville?

You can search online for "cash home buyers in Nashville" and review their websites and online presence.

You can also ask for referrals from your real estate agent or friends and family who have sold their homes to cash buyers.

How do cash home buyers differ from traditional buyers in Nashville?

Cash home buyers can close the sale much faster than traditional buyers as they don't need to secure financing.

Cash buyers often purchase homes in as-is condition, so you won't need to make repairs or upgrades to attract buyers.

Cash buyers typically don't require real estate commissions or fees, which can save you money.

What should I expect when working with a cash home buyer in Nashville?

You should expect a fair cash offer for your home based on its market value and condition.

The buyer will conduct a home inspection to evaluate any repairs or upgrades needed.

Once you accept the offer, the buyer will handle all the paperwork and closing details.

Are there any risks involved in selling my home to a cash buyer in Nashville?

There is always a risk of scams or frauds in any transaction, so make sure to verify the buyer's credentials and reputation.

You may receive a lower offer than what you would get on the traditional market, but this is offset by the convenience and speed of the sale.

Make sure to read and understand all the terms and conditions of the sale before signing any contracts or agreements.

In conclusion, choosing the right cash home buyer for your house in Nashville requires research and careful consideration. By following the tips outlined in this post, you can ensure that you're working with a reputable company that can provide you with a fair deal and a quick closing.

Company: Property Friends Tn

Phone: (629) 206-4166

[creativeashproductions]

What's a Knife Between Onscreen Family // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Filming an emotionally wrought scene on the set of your current role as a regular goes very wrong very fast. Expecting the scene to be the most taxing of the day you find yourself in the ER getting a transfusion. It’s all fun and games until someone’s holding a sharp knife incorrectly, guess it’s just something in common with co-star Jared Padalecki.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, fear, injuries, hospital, needles, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.5k (including lyrics)

A/N: I watched a part of a panel from a Supernatural con and found it hilarious that Jensen accidently stabbed Jared. So I had to write that for a Charlie Gillespie fic. Link to the video talking about the stabbing is right below this message.

Jensen Ackles Accidentally Stabbed Jared Padalecki during filming From 1:00-6:00

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

It had to be one of the most emotionally taxing scenes in your entire career as an actress on a physically demanding show. The scene had been incredibly mentally draining the daughter of a Winchester. It had been once season recurring, one series regular and now filming the third season. As the teenage Winchester, it threw a wrench in all the plans and the reckless character gave no shits.

“Okay, this is our last scene for the day!” Robert Singer, the director of his episode, called out from off stage. Standing at the top of the stairs in the Bunker, you jumped in close with a scrunched nose at the squishy sound.

Over the railing, both Jared and Jensen nodded their support from the ground level with concerned expressions. Ever since you joined the cast in season 13, they had become fathers to you. The sight of you drenched in stage blood was enough to churn their stomachs.

“I gave you the barebones of the scene so work with it. Briar’s traumatized after fighting for her life and has been gone for a while.” Robert explained, “Cas couldn’t find her. I want this to be a tribute like Dean in season 10 episode 14: The Executioner’s Song.”

Taking a deep breath in your emotions channelled into a hurricane in your chest, clenching your fingers on the knife.

“Action!”

Pacing the floor plan of the Bunker is two brothers bonded by sorrow, pain, sacrifice and love. Each throwing out locations on where Briar could be, Jack and Cas had been little help. Sam’s heart clenched tight bypassing images straight to torture. The kind of torture he had endured over the years.

Dean’s mouth opened to suggest another place when the Bunker door creaked open. The red converse appeared before the soggy jeans as the teen slowly made her way down the steps. Briar Winchester shook like a leaf staring off in the distance as the blood congealed on her face and hands.

“Briar.” Dean slowly spoke, moving towards the girl. His green eyes lit up in fury as the seventeen-year-old flinched back. Dean’s hand gently took the stained knife from the young girl.

“I-I didn’t mean to do it.” The meek voice appeared so unlike the usual confidence Briar talked with. In exhaustion, Briar’s knees collapsed, sending the teen right into Dean’s arms.

The stoic man gripped the youngest Winchester as his waist bearing her weight against his while Sam circled to be behind Dean. The choked sob echoed by another escaped the family huddle; one from Briar and the other from Dean.

“Dad.” Briar choked clenching her arms around the green-eyed adult’s shoulders, craving the safety of her father.

Ever since Dean could remember he had had a strict rule of always practising safe sex, he didn’t want a kid. Not in a world that had it out for Winchesters and not one where he might hold his child’s dead body in his arms. That all changed when Cas delivered Dean to a county jail where Briar was held just for a minor assault charge on a wealthy bully.

Dean never let himself want a future with the picket fence and the dog in the backyard but when Briar changed that. Dean would do anything for his family no matter the cost. Example: Selling his soul for Sam.

“Sh.” Dean spoke kissing the crown of her hair he savoured having his child safe in his arms, “I’ll help you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. We’ll heat some soup and toast.”

On autopilot, Dean helped Briar down the hall to the bathroom where she would freshen up and later burn the unsalvageable clothing. As Dean returned to Sam’s side, Castiel came with a sombre expression and an explanation.

“Dean. Sam.” Cas greeted them, flicking his blue gaze between the two brothers. The faint sound of the shower only picked up by the trained heightened sense of hearing from years of watching over their backs.

“Cas what the hell happened?” Dean demanded, “Why the hell is my little girl bruised and coated in blood?”

END FILMING SCENE

“Cut!” Robert called out to the large room with a big smile on his face, “I’ll watch it back. See if we need more takes.”

Jared and Jensen wiped the tears that fell from their cheeks just thinking on how wrought that scene felt. As fathers seeing a young adult in such a state severely agonized them. The duo jogged to see your back against the cold wall—a pinched expression marring your young face.

“How are you feeling after that?” Jensen asked, coming closer to squeeze your shoulders unfazed by the sticky fake blood. It was already all over his clothes from hugging you in character.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to have sharp objects.” You spoke glancing down at your knee that had been punctured by the knife. The dark jeans soaked in stage blood now concealed the real blood.

 “Jensen, did you really stab another person.” Jared deadpanned his best friend referencing back a few years. Jared shoved one hand through his hair, receiving a nasty glare from the hairstylist on call.

The glare on Jensen’s face blistered the taller actor, “I didn’t stab you. You walked into the knife.”

The two bickered as they guided you back to the main stage where Robert had reached a final verdict. He had watched the replay twice along with his crew finding the raw emotion to be perfect. The little detail the three had added was well played. Dean unexpectedly consoling his daughter in tears; no threats to kill or push her to tell him what happened. The first time Briar referring to Dean as her father. Lastly, Sam’s unsure actions in consoling a young girl sucked into life like he was in his youth.

“We got a one-take winner!” Robert called out sending the entire crowd into loud applause and cheers. Jared taking most of your weight as you hobbled to the costume trailer.

The lovely costume designers helped remove the sticky shirt, jewellery and the red converse that had once been white. Only the jeans remained on your body to not mess with the wound. As much as you’d love to shower the blood off, it was near impossible, moving your knee stung and it was best to avoid aggravating it.

“Someone needs to ban Jensen from knives. Just wait till his wife finds out about this, she adores Y/N.” Martha chuckled from her sketches she designed on her breaks for a future in fashion design. Often in your free time, you would be her guinea pig with her designs using refurbished material.

Normally the banter would continue but not when your leg was bleeding, and Jared was taking you to the ER. To make time faster, Jared had scooped you into his arms to the black car their driver waited in.

“Towels are in place. Sorry, you got hurt, Kid.” Clif spoke, opening the door to the backseat where Jensen sat patiently. Unlike usual, he had seated himself in the front so you could stretch in the back.

A weak chuckle met air in the packed car from the blood loss that wasn’t overly bad but enough that Jared took the towel. His pressure on the wound caused a yelp that had Jensen flinching in guilt.

“The knife must have been sharp to cut a mouse in half,” Clif muttered turning towards the hospital close to set. Coincidently the drive took you passed the set your boyfriend currently filmed at.

“Might as well call me butter.” You retorted wincing at the throbbing pain, “You aren’t allowed any more sharp objects, Mr. Ackles.”

“Danneel already threatened to hide all the knives in the house.” The on-screen father laughed as the tension decreased in the small car. Despite the dizziness, it didn’t hide the guilt in Jensen’s green eyes.

Time flew by as you found yourself in a bed for observation and pictures for the knee. It came as a shock when the doctor requested one blood transfusion for the blood loss. The hope of being in and out had evaporated like water beads on a blistering summer day.

Julie and the Phantoms Set

Charlie adored his life as an actor where he was free to visit places, he might not have had the opportunity to do. He made friends with everyone he spoke to and even met the love of his life as an actor as well.

That being said today had been the longest one with a full schedule and barely time for lunch or snacks. Even a nap was unachievable, and he desperately wanted one for being awake for hours by now.

“Charlie! Did you know you’ve got missed calls?” Jeremy inquired, staring at the phone that went black once more. Charlie’s eyebrows came together at the mention. His family had the rough outline of times he would be unavailable to talk.

Stepping back from the craft table’s supper options, he lifted the phone from the table, bringing it to life. His lock screen showing multiple missed calls and voicemails from you, his family and two unknown numbers.

His jaw dropped further when Meghan called for the first time out of the group, “Megs?”

“Finally! Where have you been?” Meghan demanded pacing in the studio she had been using when she got the call. The pretty and successful young woman had gotten terrified at learning about Y/N.

“Filming? It’s the longest day of filming the show. It’s on the family schedule.” Charlie spoke, settling into one of the empty tables. His eyes watching the people entering and exiting the tent set up for food.

“Jesus. Mom called me when you didn’t pick up. Y/N’s in the hospital.” Meghan revealed sending the Canadian actor into a stiff posture. His hazel eyes blow wide and panic flooding his entire system.

“What?!” Charlie didn’t mean to shout nor turn paler than a piece of white paper, but it happened. The volume contracting looks from everyone in the vicinity. Owen even dropped the donut back in the box by the volume.

“She got stabbed with a knife. I sent the address earlier, and I haven’t gotten a lot of info.” Meghan told her older brother, “I know she’s getting a blood transfusion, but nothing else was released.”

Charlie couldn’t tell you what happened between Meghan telling him and reaching the hospital frantically. Nor could he figure out how Owen was in the back of the Uber with him guiding him through exercises; all thanks to Owen’s therapist for his anxiety.

His sneakers squeaked on the polished white floor in his mission to the receptionist transferring information from a chart to digital. Charlie’s painting brought him attention from the kind nurse acknowledging his presence.

“Just let me finish this one sentence.” The nurse hummed saving the information before turning their full attention to the frazzled male, “How can I help you?”

“What room is Y/N Y/L/N in? She was stabbed and needed a transfusion.” Charlie demanded deflating as Owen placed a hand on his shoulder. The Canadian’s eyes bright with panic and a deep fear

The nurse’s eyes softened, “I can’t give out information on patients unless your immediate family members.”

“I’m here-“

“Husband! He’s her husband, they eloped so she hasn’t changed her last name or updated her information.” Owen blurted out, rubbing the pad of his index finger on the black jeans he had worn for his role. The two hadn’t even bothered changing into their street clothing.

The nurse nodded their head-turning back to the computer to enter the name for the patient for the information. It took seconds before the nurse wrote on the miscellaneous sticky note of the ward and room number.

“My name is Riley. If you need any help, you can come back here, and I’ll do my best to give you answers.” Nurse Riley informed the duo with a kind smile nodding in the direction of your hospital room.

Owen’s long legs ate up the distance Charlie made in his sprint to the stairwell, “Shouldn’t we take the elevator?”

“My girlfriend is in a hospital bed. I can’t wait for an elevator.” Charlie rebuked the suggestion on the second flight. Owen’s sigh was the last sound made as the duo slammed into the door to the floor level.

Charlie and Owen appeared in the doorway of your hospital room panting from the exertion meeting the gaze of two actors. Charlie’s heart stuttered at the sight of the high volume of blood in your clothing and your hair.

The sharp gasp brought your attention to the shaking Canadian actor solely focused on scanning for wounds. His eyes barely staying on the two adult males you had been starring with for a few years. Schedule conflicts often led to no introduction to each other’s co-stars.

“What the hell?” Charlie choked stumbling to the chair beside your hospital bed next to the pole holding a blood bag, “Did you get mugged? Are you okay?”

“Char, take a breath, man.” Owen’s blue eyes shadowed with the worry as Charlie’s breathing shuddered. Owen could barely look at you covered in blood.

“Whoa! Charlie. I’m fine. This is stage blood. We had an intense scene, and there was a minor accident.” Your voice soothed the man gently taking Charlie’s hand to comfort him, “I lost a bit of blood. The doctor decided to give me a blood transfusion to bring my levels back up a bit before stitching it up.”

“How do you get stabbed accidently?” Owen questioned glancing at the two men standing silently in the corner. Due to contracts on the Supernatural set details of scenes and storylines was off-limits.

“Well, during filming, I took a knife from her, and she walked into the blade?” Jensen trailed off, shoving his elbow into Jared’s side at the scoff. It happened every time it was brought up.

“I-“Charlie blinked, shaking his head as he took a deep sigh in pushing that to the back burner to focus solely on you. His hand rubbed his face while he settled on squeezing your one hand in both of his.

The touch of your skin grounding him back to earth with the shattering visions of walking into the world without you. It would be both ways, the second his calloused warm skin brushed your hands; it was like the pain faded. Only a sense of content settled in your weary bones.

“Okay Miss Y/L/N.” Dr. Clancy walked into the room only halting to grab a pair of medical gloves, “I see your entourage grew. I’m Doctor Jim Clancy, and you must be Miss Y/L/N’s husband.”

Three pairs of eyes widened at the doctor’s words aimed towards the brunette actor turning a blushing mess. The words mouthed by Charlie to go with it gave barely any insight, but you did it. The moment you had a free minute with Charlie, you would interrogate him in the new title you had.

“Yeah, my husband.” You spoke flicking an expression to Jensen and Jared that caught on from the years together. They had taken you under their wing on your first day on set, and then you became family with their immediate family.

“I can confirm that my initial observation is that the wound doesn’t have anything that shouldn’t be in there. We stopped the bleeding, the x-ray came clean, we’ll set you up with IV fluid, and tetanus shot to be safe.”

“Nurse Gellar here will cut the rest of the jeans off, get you in a gown for a few hours of observation. Just a precaution for blood transfusions. We’ll have some scrubs you can wear when you can leave.” Dr. Clancy motioned to the tall redhead with a quiet demeanour.

Charlie’s lips lingered on your temple at the fear that flared in your expressive eyes, he would give anything to take your place. He softly sang your couple song as a whimper fell from your lips as the jean tugged the dried blood from the wound. The painful pressure felt as you guessed it had started to bleed again, the feel of liquid rolling down your skin, confirming it.

“I’ll sing anything.” Charlie whispered going through his mental catalogue of songs on your shared playlist, “Oh!”

I’m booking myself a one-way flight

 I gotta see the color in your eyes

 And telling myself I’m gonna be alright

 Without you baby is a waste of time

The tears falling no longer came from the pain but the sheer amount of love you had for the man there. Eyes glittering with pure adoration as his voice came off absolutely heart-melting. So, lost in each other neither of you noticed Owen had been filming from the moment Charlie had said ‘oh’.

Yeah, our first date, girl, the seasons changed

 It got washed away in a summer rain

 You can’t undo a fall like this

 ’Cause love don’t know what distance is

 Yeah, I know it’s crazy

Charlie’s hand slowly slid up your arms to cup your tear-streaked tacky cheeks in his warm grip. The hospital faded as it became just you and Charlie. Completely oblivious at the audience in the room.

“He loves her,” Jensen whispered to Jared out of the camera frame that the blonde-haired kid’s phone. It was such a pure moment it felt disrespectful to see this exchange but also honoured to see it firsthand.

“I’ve only seen the look in your eyes for Danneel,” Jared replied, cupping his hands over his face listening to the near inaudible wet chuckle you gave.

“As I have between you and Gen. They have the real kind of love.” 

But I don’t want “good”, and I don’t want “good enough.”

 I want “can’t sleep, can’t breathe without your love”

 Front porch and one more kiss, it doesn’t make sense to anybody else

“Charlie.” You sobbed at the best part of your life serenading you in such a romantic moment at the odd setting—his hazel gaze greener in what would come to be a very dear memory to reminisce about.

The calloused thumb caressing your cheek wiping a teardrop away he continued to see as the doctor finished suturing the wound. 

Nothing mattered other than the couple currently in a bubble.

Who cares if you’re all I think about,

 I’ve searched the world and I know now,

 It ain’t right if you ain’t lost your mind.

 Yeah, I don’t want easy, I want crazy

 Are you with me baby? Let’s be crazy

Charlie’s voice faded with the rest of the song bringing you back to reality with the nurse cleaning up around the wound. That’s how the rest of the day went on waiting for the blood transfusion and IV fluids to finish. You stuffed the tetanus shot while Charlie sang between different genres.

“Thank you.” You softly spoke with Charlie being the only one left in the room with you.

Owen had headed back to their set to finish a scene while giving the updates on you while Jared and Jensen grabbed food. J2 had been very clear they would get Martha to grab some clothing for when they came back. Jensen was determined to deliver you to your home as the first action to make it up to you.

“For what?” Charlie questioned as your index and thumb picked at the cuticles of the opposite hand. Your eyes were hidden from your boyfriend’s gaze.

“For dropping everything to be here.” The words were quiet in the room only filled with breathing and the heart machine you had to be hooked up to.

“My girl-“

“Don’t you mean wife?” You teased brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead taking in the man you had the honor of loving. Of waking up next to in the apartment, you’d been renting ever since you landed the role on Supernatural; overtime Charlie’s things had just accumulated there.

“It was the only way they’d let me in.” Charlie spoke sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, “It’s a little early to call you, but I’m excited to make you my last girlfriend and then my only wife.”

The chuckle fell from your lips, “So, you want to marry me?”

“In front of all our family and friends. Tucked away from the media to celebrate the love we have for each other.” Charlie spoke, “There’s no one else I’d like by my side for the rest of my life.”

A new flood of tears welled at the sincerity in his voice and the warmth laden in his eyes of kaleidoscope colours. Sometimes, depending on his emotion or his clothing, his eyes would be greener, or when he was happy, they had a blue tinge in the green in sadness or your favourite; brown with the swirls of green.

“How did I get so lucky to have the absolute honour to fall in love with you?” Your words created a swell of emotion in the Canadian’s heart.

“The same way whatever deities there are took pity on a boy from Dieppe by bringing him an angel.” Charlie words preceded the kiss on your lips with a grin as you chased his lips after. With one last peck, he leaned back with a fond expression.

“Seriously how do you get stabbed accidently?” Charlie chortled with that gorgeous smile lighting up the room more than the white lights.

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[forlove2020]

Day 2 - No Vacancy

It is the last day of November and no one wants to buy any more pumpkins. 

Halloween has gone by, and Thanksgiving has blown past too. The people of Lebanon, Kansas have had their fill of the bright orange gourds - for more than two months they've displayed them on their front porches, carved them into jack-o-lanterns, and added them into every kind of dessert and frothy little drink imaginable.

And that is why, on November 30th, Dean decides his family is going on a field trip to the Lebanon Corn Maze and Pumpkin Patch.

Things have been good lately. No, scratch that. Life has been freakin' awesome. It has been just under two weeks since he rescued Cas from the Empty and a week since Jack came home. Dean is over the moon; radiating happiness in a way he never has before. They're all together, alive, and no Big Bad hovers menacingly on the horizon. Dean's not one to believe in a 'best case scenario,' but hell if this doesn't feel just like it.

The farm is about a twenty-five minute drive from the Bunker, and Dean, Cas, and Jack pull up in the Impala at the same time as Sam and Eileen arrive in Sam's CR-V. 

(Dean had teased him mercilessly about his new ride until Sam looked him dead in the eye, placing his hand protectively on Eileen's protruding belly, and insisted "Honda gets really good safety ratings, Dean." Dean, wisely, had shut up after that.)

Claire and Kaia are already there waiting, leaning up against Claire’s car, hand in hand. Jack leaps out of Baby as soon as Dean puts her in park, barreling toward the girls so he can nag Claire about his latest obsession: TikTok. Even from a distance it’s clear she’s rolling her eyes at him, but smiling despite herself

Dean and Cas get out of the car at a more leisurely pace and survey their surroundings.

What had been a busy festival complete with a lush corn maze, vibrant pumpkin patch, and stalls selling kettle corn and caramel apples two months ago is now a dismal scene. The corn maze has dried out and shriveled up, and the stalls are unmanned. Technically, there are still pumpkins aplenty in the field, but they're the ones that have been forsaken. The remaining pumpkins are leftovers that were considered either too skinny, too fat, or just too misshapen and lumpy to have been picked as the cream-of-the-crop.

Dean looks over at Cas. He’s squinting at the scenery in the dim autumn sunlight, and the nippy breeze has swept through his dark hair, making it seem more tousled than usual. Not for the first time, Dean thinks that he is gorgeous.

But now, he can actually tell Cas what he is feeling in these moments. There are no more half-truths or lies between them, nothing secret. After years of pining for one another without any hope of reciprocation and hiding the pains of longing, they’ve finally broken down the walls that kept them apart. They love one another fiercely, and while their relationship is new, it is not tenuous. 

So, Dean turns to him with a crooked grin.  “Hey, handsome.”

Cas blinks, and then a little smile curls the corners of his mouth. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean moves closer until their shoulders are brushing and he can feel the warmth of Cas’ body through both of their jackets. “You think Jack’s gonna be disappointed?” he asks quietly, watching their kid practically tackle Sam with a hug as Eileen signs something Dean can’t quite make out from the other end of the parking lot. “I mean, this isn’t exactly the ‘autumn glory’ we were promised on those fliers earlier this month.”

Cas doesn’t even hesitate. “No. I think Jack just appreciates having a normal...uh, sort of a normal life again. He’s excited to be here picking pumpkins, especially with Claire and Kaia, and Sam and Eileen joining us. This was a nice surprise you planned for him, Dean.”

It’s a simple compliment, and not even particularly saccharine, but Dean flushes from head to toe anyway. He’s working on believing the good things Cas says about him; he’s really trying, but it’s always been difficult for him to take a compliment about anything other than his good looks or hunting prowess. Instead, he meets Cas’ eye, and nods silently. And then, remembering he is allowed, takes Cas’ hand in his own, twining their fingers together.

They walk hand-in-hand to join Claire, Kaia, Jack, Sam and Eileen at the front gate. It’s hanging wide open, and no one is standing there to charge them an entrance fee. However, the sign does make a point to state that the maze is open until December 1st. Eileen shrugs, and so the seven of them wander down the path towards the pumpkin patch and the entrance to the maze. 

“Kaia! I’ll race you to the end!” Jack shouts, and laughing, Kaia chases him into the maze, dragging a grumbling Claire along behind her. 

“Let’s see if we can find anybody still working,” Sam suggests.

Eileen points at a worn down farmhouse tucked mostly behind a newly-painted red barn. “Someone must be home,” she signs pointedly, gesturing to plumes of smoke exuding from a grey chimney stack.

Dean ends up knocking on the door. He leaves Sam, Eileen, and Cas at a nearby picnic table, debating in Sign Language about the best flavor of cotton candy and whether or not the color of the dye changes the taste. 

 A minute or two later, an older man swings open the squeaky screen door to the house. He’s scowling, wearing muddy overalls, and chewing on a thick cigar. “Yeah?” he asks shortly. “Whaddya want?”

Dean raises his eyebrows at the farmer’s bluntness, but manages to respond politely. “My family and I saw fliers for this place a few weeks ago. We were hoping to buy some pumpkins and candy apples. What are you charging”

The farmer’s scowl grows deeper, and he looks past Dean to Sam, Eileen, and Cas relaxing on the bench, then narrows his eyes at the corn maze, where shrieks of laughter can be heard as the younger adults chase one another through the thinning stalks.

Getting impatient, with the man’s surly silence, Dean prods, “And…? It’s a yes or no question. Are you still selling pumpkins?”

The old man pulls the cigar out from between his teeth. “My wife and daughter run this hokey shit,” he grunts. “They went into town today ‘cause folks already came through here earlier in the month. They like customers. We haven't had anybody else stop by since before Thanksgiving.”

As his temper flares, Dean turns his grit teeth into a sharp smile. “Well, then it’s your lucky day! Here we are,” he says mockingly, sweeping his arms wide. The farmer mumbles something insulting and covers it with a hacking cough. Dean pretends not to hear him, “Fine. I take it from your sunny attitude that there will be no popcorn or apples today?” 

The man scoffs, “Enjoy the maze, boy-o. Free of charge.” He turns to lumber back inside, but Dean grabs the screen door before he can try to disappear.

“Hey!” the hunter barks. The farmer pauses, his body tensing for a fight. “Are you gonna sell me the goddamn pumpkins or not?” 

Cas has wandered to his side, either noticing the commotion, or simply because he wanted to be closer to Dean. Now, he interrupts casually, “You still have quite a few squash left in the fields and there’s going to be heavy frost two days from now, overnight. It’d be a shame if all of these pumpkins rotted, and you wasted the rest of your harvest.”

He has, quite deftly, snared the salty old farmer’s attention. Money is the man’s language; he might not enjoy having customers on his property so late in the season, but he certainly likes having the funds to maintain his land.

****************************************

“A hundred.”

“A hundred?” Sam sounds insulted. “You’re gonna pitch all of these in a couple days. There’s no way we’re paying a hundred. Try twenty-five dollars.”

The farmer rolls his eyes dramatically. He is in his element; the thrill of making a good deal and bartering his wares on the last day is an unexpected but welcome surprise that has put him in high spirits. “You’re cute, kid. I know my produce is worth more than that. I’ll go down to eighty-five, and you can take whatever you can carry in one trip.”

“Thirty-five,” Sam shoots back.

“Eighty.”

“Forty-one.” Once, Sam was going to be a lawyer. He’s got the upper hand in this situation and he’s going to crush his opposition. One more price reduction and they’ll have dozens of pumpkins to take home, way below the original asking price.

“Sevent…”

“Sixty-five, and we fill up all of our cars,” Dean interrupts, and Sam looks at him, utterly betrayed as the gleeful farmer shakes on the deal.

As Cas, Jack, Claire, and Kaia help carry the pumpkins to Sam and Claire’s cars respectively, Dean just claps Sam on the shoulder and tells his brother, “It’s still a cheaper family outing than going to Disney.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam says mournfully, and sulks over to help Eileen, who is supervising the influx of pumpkins that are being loaded into their vehicle.

Dean chuckles, and scoops up a few pumpkins. He’s got some recipes he wants to try out, plus he’s excited to teach Jack to carve ‘Jack’-o-lanterns. The kid seemed to want to learn how to do everything the human way now, and Dean is more than happy to teach him.

One by one, Dean places eight pumpkins in the backseat of Baby. One is tall and oblong with lots of stringy stems, matched with the only short and well rounded pumpkin he sees in the field. Between those two he sets a teeny tiny baby-sized pumpkin. Then, there’s a pumpkin that is half-green half-orange. It seems like it must have grown too fast because it is still quite young despite its size. Next, he adds two medium pumpkins that are also young, but growing strong. And last but not least, he picks up two more pumpkins. They are both a bit damaged - one is bruised and discolored, the other looks like it might have grown sideways. But Dean picks them because they lean against one another in the field, steady despite their flaws, despite what they’ve been through. 

He sets them all up in a long line along the backseat, and when Cas sees what he chose, his eyes go soft and warm as he looks at Dean.

“Let’s go home,” he breathes out, and takes Dean’s hand again.

Everyone gets in their cars - Dean in the driver's seat and Cas taking shotgun, as before. Jack tries to get in the Impala, then looks in the back window, and starts laughing. 

“Dean! There’s nowhere for me to sit.”

Cas chuckles quietly beside him, as Dean grins. “Aw, tough break, kid. Guess you’re walking home.”

“Hey, no fair- Dean! C’mon! Cas! Tell Dean he has to -”

Dean starts to roll up the window, laughing loudly as Jack knocks on the window pane.

“Sorry! No vacancy!” he hollers. Jack is nearly doubled over, hilarity spilling from him in peals of laughter.

Claire honks her horn loudly, and throws open the back door to her car. Jack straightens, and scrambles to join her and Kaia, shooting Dean and Cas a bright wave goodbye.

Sam and Eileen also wave as they leave the parking lot, wheels sending gravel spinning in their wake. Claire and Kaia follow, and Jack rolls down the window as they pass, and calls across to Cas and Dean, “This was the best family trip ever!”

They too are soon gone, headed for the Bunker to drop off dozens of pumpkins which will decorate every room until they end up decaying or until Dean cooks them. 

Dean and Cas wait until the others have left, and then Dean leans over and kisses Cas, long and sweet. When he pulls back, Cas traces his cheek, and says thoughtfully, “We could take the backroads home today….”

Dean is so gone on him. He kisses Cas once, twice more, and then puts the Impala in drive, and they’re on the road, taking the long way home.

**********************************

I enjoyed adding a little Day 1 ‘Harvest’ flare to Day 2!

My goal is to make most of my Suptober fics one-shots that are in some way related to my multichapter fix-it that is still a work in progress (Dean/Cas, Sam/Eileen, etc, post 15x20).

Thank you for reading!

-V

[elsanna-shenanigans]

August Contest Submission #14: Of Flowers and Child-Friendly Scissors

Words: ca. 5,500 Setting: mAU Lemon: No CW: Brief mention of blood, Angst

The gentle fragrance of freshly cut flowers had always been nostalgic for Anna. She awoke to it every morning, and like clockwork she’d rise and perform her morning routine. With a large mug of sugary coffee in hand, she’d head down from her apartment to the shop floor below to get to work. Visually, she could never get enough of the array of vibrant colours. It overwhelmed her senses as much as the smell.

Raking a hand through her messy red hair, Anna wandered around the shop floor surveying her stock. Swapping her mug for a pair of pruning scissors from the counter, she walked around clipping the flowers on display, changing their water and creating easy to pick up pre-made bunches for her customers. Her mother had always hated being trapped in the family run business but Anna was the opposite: the quiet allowed her time to think. It was her only space in the universe, and she lost herself within it.

Caught up in her own world, she didn’t even hear the gentle chime of the bell as the door opened.

“Excuse me -”

Anna leapt out of her skin; almost chopping her fingers clean off.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” the customer flew to her knees beside Anna, taking her hand in her own.

Anna blinked, still as a mouse as she met bright cerulean eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes followed her customer’s down to her hand. Scarlet glistened in the morning sunlight, and it took Anna a moment to realise it was her blood. She panicked for a good ten seconds, wondering if perhaps she really had cut her fingers off. Flexing them made her realise she hadn’t.

“I am such an idiot,” Anna yanked her hand back from the stranger as she scrambled to her feet.

“I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. I really am so sorry!” the woman chased Anna back to the counter where she clambered in drawers for the first aid kit.

“It’s okay, really. It’s not the first time. I should really be issued with child-friendly scissors,” she said, running around like a whirlwind. Once she had found the box she was looking for Anna tipped it upside down, spilling the contents of bandages, plasters and antiseptic cream across the counter.

“Sit down, let me bandage it,” the customer told her with a stern tone. It was enough to give Anna pause. Taking a minute to really look the woman over she realised she hadn’t met her before. The village was small; small enough to know every resident. A visitor, then, she assumed.

Silently, Anna obeyed and took a seat, the woman getting straight to work with light and delicate fingers, gently cleaning the wound and applying the dressing.

Anna found herself captivated by her guest: irises were a deep blue peppered with flecks of grey, eyes narrowed in intense concentration. She brushed away blonde hair from her face as she worked, strands so pale they almost lacked all pigment completely. The snow white skin of her arms were without blemish, and Anna’s eyes dared to wander further, past the chain of the silver locket resting on her collarbone, further still to the soft summer dress in muted tones of lilac. She was so lost in her that she didn’t even notice when the mysterious stranger had finished tending to her hand.

“Are you okay? You look flushed. Do you have a fever?” the woman held her hand to Anna’s forehead, and Anna, abruptly snapping out of her daydream at the surprisingly ice cold touch, almost died on the spot.

“I am fine! Totally fine!” she replied far too quickly, backing up as much as her chair would allow, her free hand grasping the arm rest, knuckles white.

Get yourself together! She berated herself. Taking a deep breath, Anna looked up again to greet her customer.

“I haven’t seen you around. Are you visiting?” she asked, keeping her voice surprisingly level as she swiftly changed the subject.

“No, I moved in last week,” the woman replied, finally taking a step back, and Anna breathed out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure she’d survive a whole conversation pinned down in the chair… though looking her visitor over once more, a part of her lamented the loss of contact. Just the thought of being pinned down by the enigmatic blonde was giving her more of a thrill than she cared to admit.

“Wait, you just moved in?” Anna suddenly processed her words. She had to think hard. There were no houses up for sale. That kind of news travelled fast. Unless -

“- my grandmother passed away last year and she left her cottage to me. I sat on it for a while, wondering whether to sell it… but my life turned upside down recently and well, here I am, moving into a village where I know no one.”

“You moved into number 6. You’re Rita’s granddaughter,” Anna said, taking a moment to compare the woman before her to the elderly lady who used to visit so often. Forgetting herself, Anna quickly continued, “I know it was a while ago, but I am sorry for your loss. She really was the heart of the village.”

“It’s okay, really. It’s been weird stepping into her life. People talk to me like I should know her, but I hadn’t seen her since I was a child. I have no idea what she was like, or why she bypassed my parents to leave this to me. But here I am, standing in your shop. Life just goes on. It’s quite cruel really.”

And here I am also talking to you like you’d have known her. Anna could have face-palmed. She was making a fine mess of this first meeting.

“Anna Noakes,” Anna held her hand out: the one that wasn’t bandaged, “I run the florist. Big surprise, I know, seen as that’s where we are,” Anna held her other arm out to gesture to the flower covered room. The chuckle it drew from Elsa made her heart soar.

“Well, Anna Noakes,” Elsa took her hand in greeting, “the florist who should only be issued with child-friendly scissors, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Elsa. Elsa Frost. What would you recommend for a first date?”

Anna caught the look of mirth in her customer’s eyes. She was never living that down.

Pursing her lips, thoughts flicked through the various flowers she had in stock which would appeal to a man. It wasn’t a request she had ever had before, but it wasn’t completely unheard of for a woman to buy a man flowers.

“Does he have a favourite colour that you know of? Is he sentimental?” Anna asked as she dug through some bunches of freesias to reach the gerberas behind.

“She,” Elsa corrected, “and I have no idea.”

Anna froze. Slowly, she turned back to Elsa, who was flicking through her phone. She is seeing a woman? And she talks like it’s no big deal? It was an alien feeling for Anna, who had always been surrounded by her friends and family in this village. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her lot in life, but explaining to them that she may very well not be into men seemed impossible in a small community where no one deviated from traditional expectations.

Elsa held up her phone unapologetically and pointed to a picture of a brunette.

“Isn’t that a dating app?” Anna asked, tracing the emerald eyes and chestnut locks of the flawless woman on the screen. She was beautiful, and successful, judging by the brief bio she caught just beneath.

“Yes. We’ve been talking for a few days and we seem to click. I’m kind of nervous. I really want it to work.” 

Anna caught the shy smile from Elsa, and she could not help but empathise with her sincerity. She was adorable.

“I wondered whether to give her roses -”

“- No, you’re not taking roses. Too overdone,” Anna dismissed it immediately.

“Let me make you something special. Peonies are beautiful, as are gerberas… maybe alstroemerias…” Anna murmured, moving around the store plucking individual flowers from buckets until she appeared back at Elsa’s side with a small bunch full of bright reds and yellows. Anna looked between the bunch and Elsa, wondering if perhaps she had made an error. The flowers didn’t reflect their purchaser at all, but before Anna could put them down and start again Elsa leaned forward and inhaled the sweet fragrance.

“They are perfect, thank you.”

Anna gave her a small smile, unable to bring herself to change her mind. If her customer liked them then that was that. They’d be fine. A date wasn’t about the flowers anyway. It was about the people, and she was sure Elsa would have a fine time.

Accepting payment, Anna bid farewell to her new customer and slouched back in her chair as she watched her leave, a goofy smile on her face. It would be nice to have a friend her age in the village. Especially one who must have gone through the same kind of trials Anna was going through.

“I wonder when I’ll see her again.”

 —-

The incessant ring from the alarm jolted Anna awake. She slapped it off, only for it to buzz again a few minutes later.

“Snooze, snooze,” she murmured. One alarm was never enough.

Crawling out of bed to that perfumed scent of fragrant flower meadows, Anna repeated her morning routine, with the addition of cleaning her wound and reapplying her bandage. Taking more care not to cut herself, she got back to tending and pruning her flowers.

She was alert to the chime of the door, and looking up her heart raced at the sight of Elsa. Two days in a row. I am blessed.

Putting her scissors down with care, Anna rushed to her feet to greet her.

“Hey! Back again already?” Anna asked, smile bright.

“Just checking in to make sure you’re okay.”

Anna blinked, not understanding.

“Your hand,” Elsa pointed out.

“Oh!” The penny dropped. “This,” she held out her bandaged hand. “Well, it hasn’t fallen off yet so I guess it’s good?” Anna made light of the topic, though Elsa’s concern did not waver.

“Anyway, how did your date go?” she asked, and Elsa’s expression faded to something more melancholy.

“Not so great…” she admitted, and instantly Anna felt for her. Dates were cruel; dating apps even worse: Anna had experienced enough to know that much.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I really hope it wasn’t the flowers – God, I’d hate to think I ruined your chances -”

“- No, it wasn’t the flowers. We just didn’t get on in person as much as I had expected,” Elsa said, eyes looking anywhere but at Anna. 

Why would I suggest gerberas? I should have gone for muted hues. Something that suited her character. I’m such an idiot.

“Have you ever used a dating app before? They are pretty terrible,” Elsa made idle conversation as she browsed a selection of the pre-made bunches available.

“Yes – no, kind of… after my ex I swore off dating forever.”

“He was that bad?”

Anna let out a small chuckle. “No, she was not that bad. Not really. I just wasn’t ready to come out to everyone… Which I still haven’t really done. Which I am still not ready to do. And I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

The flash of surprise on Elsa’s face made Anna freeze for a moment, but the gentle smile that replaced it reassured her that she hadn’t made a mistake in confessing that to her.

“Did you date her here?” Elsa asked curiously, not seeming to miss a beat.

“Oh, hell no. She lived in the city. I travelled. Could you imagine if the village knew? It would be the gossip of the century.”

“I don’t know. Fitting in seems kind of boring, don’t you think?”

Anna was caught in her gaze for a long moment, those irises flickering with something darker. Had they been in a bar in the city Anna might have mistaken her customer’s intense look as an invitation to flirt, but they weren’t in a city. This was her village, and Anna was supposed to be serving the woman.

A ding from Elsa’s phone distracted them both.

Anna took a breath, almost relieved the tension was broken. She needed to stop letting Elsa fluster her. Threading her fingers through red hair, she tried to work out exactly how she was going to do that when Elsa continued, “Looks like another match. You ever think women find it corny for a partner to show up with flowers? Am I being old fashioned?”

“Absolutely not. It’s like the pinnacle of romance,” Anna said, resolute in her conviction. If any of her past dates had showed up with flowers she’d have been flattered; she’d have swooned.

“Mmm,” Elsa hummed, still checking her phone. “She wants to meet.”

“Isn’t that a little soon?” Anna frowned, voice laced with concern.

“Probably. But she does look cute. What do you think?” Elsa held her phone out. Anna sucked in a breath as she looked the redhead over in the image. She was stunning: glamorous. Anna felt a twang of envy as she looked over the photo. The woman staring back at her was much like Anna, and yet she was more refined, more city-smart, she had a proper job. It only served to remind her why she hated dating apps. Everyone on there always showed off their best side. Filtered photographs and high paying jobs weren’t everything… even if a small part of her wished she could have that lifestyle.

“She looks great,” the lie rolled off her tongue so easily. Anna had learnt the hard way how cruel the dating world could be, and Elsa needed to learn this herself. It wasn’t for Anna to judge.

“In that case, what flowers would you recommend?”

Anna smiled, even if it was a sad smile. Those girls would never know how lucky they were to have someone take these dates so seriously.

Changing it up, Anna picked bunches of muted purples and whites, with just a flash of yellow; selected from her best lilac, asters and crocuses. “The hope a new love can bring.”

“Do they always mean so much?” Elsa asked, examining them closely.

“Definitely. I could go on for days, but I won’t bore you.” Anna shot her a knowing grin.

“Maybe when I next pop by,” Elsa said, accepting the bunch and proceeding to purchase them.

She’ll be back. Anna held onto the thought. It was beginning to dawn on her that if Elsa really was planning on staying here permanently then these little visits might become more frequent than she ever could have dreamed. And for reasons Anna wasn’t entirely sure of, she was looking forward to them already.

Anna was about to bid farewell to Elsa, when she hesitated, an ivory hand lingering on her bunch of flowers still on the counter.

“I really am so lucky I found you. I have no idea what I’d have done without your help. I’d have been lost in a world of poorly maintained supermarket flowers,” Elsa admitted, and it was enough to draw a nervous laugh from Anna. 

“I don’t know, probably not messing up your last date?” Anna replied, cheeks rosy in embarrassment. The arched eyebrow Elsa raised in response made her glance away.

“Maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe I am just so hopeless that even the best flowers in the world can’t convince a woman to sit through a meal with me.”

“No, absolutely not!” Anna said without conscious thought. “I mean, anyone would be lucky to have a meal with you. You’re lovely. And kind, and considerate, and just -” she stopped herself before her mouth ran away with itself. “I just mean… you’re trying. Which is more than any of my dates ever did. They don’t know how lucky they are. You’ll meet the right person, eventually. Never give up.”

Elsa cocked her head, and for a moment Anna worried she had overstepped some kind of boundary.

“Thank you,” Elsa said sincerely. “I worried when I came here that I wouldn’t meet anyone who’d get me.”

“Oh?” Anna asked in surprise.

“A young independent woman from the city moving into a sleepy old village? Everyone here seems so set in their ways.”

She wasn’t wrong. Anna felt the same, and she had lived here her entire life.

A question tugged at Anna, and she considered not asking, but curiosity got the better of her. “Why did you move here?” It was an innocent enough question, or so she thought.

“Well…” Elsa hesitated, and for a moment Anna wasn’t sure if she’d continue. The way she clammed up made Anna wish she had never asked at all. It was such a contrast to the happy woman who stood there moments earlier. “We got serious so my girlfriend at the time moved in… and then we split a few years later. Do you know how hard it is living with your ex full time? It was okay while we weren’t seeing people. But when she started bringing people home…”

Anna watched those bright eyes fall into despair. Instinctively, she reached out and pulled Elsa into a hug.

“It hurt so, so much.” The raw emotion was evident in every syllable. “But I know she has nothing. Nowhere to go. So now I pay the mortgage and she lives in my apartment in the city,” Elsa said with the deepest of sighs.

How does someone even end up in that situation?

“I couldn’t throw her out onto the street, but I couldn’t live there either. So here I am, trying to start fresh. A psychiatrist would have a field day with me, I swear.” 

The way she tried to lighten the mood made Anna squeeze her even tighter.

“No – no.” Anna shook her head. “You’re amazing, and thoughtful. Your ex is a fool,” she paused, debating how best to tell her that renting her apartment out for free to an ex was crazy. “Don’t get me wrong – you totally need to fix your apartment situation, but you’re doing what you think is right. You’re being a good person. Don’t ever feel bad for that.”

Anna pulled back enough from Elsa to look her over. She could now see how clearly she was suffering beneath her upbeat persona. She still loves her. Anna supposed it made sense now. Why else would she be trying so hard to find someone new? Or maybe she’s just trying to find a way to heal.

“Thank you. For both the flowers and the pep talk,” Elsa said gratefully, pulling away from Anna’s arms and collecting the flowers from the counter. Anna felt an emptiness at the loss of contact, and she wondered if Elsa did too as she watched as she wrapped one arm around herself self-consciously.

“Anytime. I’m here every day of the week. Literally. Except Sunday. I have Sundays off.”

Anna opened her mouth to give Elsa something more: advice? Encouragement? Just a friendly goodbye? No words followed. She watched, a bleakness filling her at what she had just learnt. It didn’t seem fair that someone trying so hard had suffered so much misfortune.

I hope she finds what she is looking for.

 —-

It wasn’t often Anna didn’t sleep well, but here she was, wide awake long before her alarm had even gone off. She rolled out of bed and, like every morning, proceeded to perform her morning routine. 

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how Elsa’s date went, and more importantly, how Elsa was doing. The more she thought about her the more Anna realised she barely knew a thing about her. Had she moved here with anyone? Could she have another soul to confide in at home? She certainly implied she didn’t.

Maybe I should drop by after work. Just to make sure she’s settling in. Without even consciously realising it, resolving to check in on Elsa that afternoon gave Anna an extra spring in her step as she flipped her open sign on the shop door to closed. 

Keeping busy from idle thoughts, she continued to put the finishing touches on the flower arrangements for the wedding at the church later that day. Despite being a small, inclusive village, it was situated in an idyllic location and passing trade kept her afloat: especially weddings, and she needed her sole focus to ensure these would be perfect. Even if that meant no customers for a few hours.

Caught in the concentration of her job, she didn’t hear the door gently chime as it opened some time later.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you -”

Anna almost hit the ceiling. Holding her poor, beating heart, she turned to face Elsa. Had it been anyone else she’d have been thinking up a very tort reply involving reading and shop signage. But it was Elsa, and all of Anna’s irritation faded away in an instant.

“Sorry,” Elsa said with a sheepish smile, seeming to realise that she had made Anna jump out of her skin yet again. “I’m not normally this sneaky. I feel like you’re going to think I am doing this on purpose.”

“No, really, it’s fine. It’s great to see you again!” Anna said a little too enthusiastically, and instantly she wanted to face-palm. Way to sound desperate.

Immediately changing topic, because Anna needed to think about absolutely anything except her joy of seeing Elsa, she asked the one question on her mind. “How was your date?”

Elsa let out a low sigh. “I think I must have fool written all over my face.”

Anna nodded in understanding, not pressing her for any further details… and then proceeded to shake her head vehemently when she realised just what she had been agreeing to.

Elsa’s face softened, and for a moment she stood uncertain, one hand playing with the handles of her tote bag.

“…I actually got you a present.”

“A present?” Anna asked, both in pleasant surprise and anxious anticipation. What could ever have possessed Elsa to buy something for her she’d never know.

“Yes. Just something to say thank you for your help these past couple days.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to. My job is to supply my customers with perfect bouquets. If anything I should probably be giving you a refund for how well they’ve gone down.”

“Stop that,” Elsa’s voice held an edge that silenced Anna. “I loved them, and that’s all that matters.”

As much as Anna wanted to argue that that wasn’t the point, she remained quiet.

“Listen, don’t thank me too quickly. I pass a shop every day on the way to work and I saw it and thought of you and…” Elsa hesitated. “Just open it.”

Anna frowned but reluctantly accepted the neatly wrapped gift. Delicately, she pulled at the yellow ribbon and unpicked the sunflower paper. She looked between Elsa and the plain brown box beneath in curiosity. Chocolate maybe? She wondered, proceeding to slide the box open. To her surprise, Anna looked down at a dinky pair of black and white scissors, complete with blunt, rounded edges and topped off with a safety cap. Her eyes traced the cute cartoon panda faces over the grip.

She blinked in disbelief. “You bought me childrens scissors.”

“I did.” The absence of any shame in Elsa’s tone was both as amusing as it was humiliating.

Taking a breath, Anna finally looked up, keeping her expression as stern as she could as she inwardly melted at how adorable the gift was. “I want you to know I am both flattered and offended in equal measure.”

“Good. That’s what I was pitching for,” Elsa said, eyes alight with mischief. “Perhaps when rude customers sneak up on you, you won’t almost chop your hands off.”

“That was one time, and you weren’t rude.” Anna rolled her eyes.

“You said it had happened before,” Elsa retorted with folded arms and that arched look Anna was coming to enjoy a little too much.

“…So I did,” Anna conceded as she popped the scissors down by the counter.

“Can I get you a drink?” the words had already left Anna’s mouth before she realised how weird that was. They were in a flower shop. Elsa was shopping, not having afternoon tea. 

Before Anna could backpedal and come up with excuses for how ridiculous the offer was Elsa’s musical notes had already left her lips, “I would love one.”

“G-great! Tea or coffee? Or juice, water, soda, alcohol?” Anna stammered, caught off guard. 

Is my milk even in date?

“Coffee is fine.”

I really hope my milk is in date.

 “Can you watch the shop for a minute? My kettle is upstairs.”

Elsa nodded, and with that Anna sped upstairs, taking two at a time. Setting the kettle to boil with one hand and grabbing a random mug from her pile of washing up with the other, she quickly got to work cleaning it and mixing up a cup of coffee.

I really hope she likes instant coffee. How many sugars does a normal person take? …Was the milk in date? Pushing all fears aside, Anna charged back down with the mug, almost spilling it as she skidded to a stop. I really hope I don’t kill her.

“World’s Number 1 Florist?” Elsa mused as she accepted the coffee. Anna frowned, not understanding until Elsa held the mug up to take a sip. “If it’s on a mug it must be true.” 

The regret from picking that dumb mug was eclipsed by the playful twinkle in Elsa’s eye. Anna felt her cheeks redden, and feared for a moment Elsa would comment further, but she simply turned away and began wandering around the small shop floor, admiring the flowers on display. 

At ease in her company, Anna went back to the arrangements she was working.

“So, you live above the shop? Isn’t it weird having your house as your business? I don’t think I could ever do that. Like, where is the boundary? You must end up working so many hours,” Elsa made idle conversation, but Anna didn’t mind. It was a nice change of pace to have company.

How strange. She couldn’t help but notice. She always left the shop closed when she needed to really concentrate on a big order, but somehow Elsa’s presence didn’t disrupt her flow in the same way every other person did. 

“Yeah, it feels a bit like that sometimes,” Anna nodded in reply, not pausing in her work.

Elsa continued looking around, sipping her coffee as she took in every detail; from the range of flowers to the rustic design of the displays.

“Do you work here alone?”

“Yes. My grandparents owned the shop, and left it to me after they passed a few years back. My mum didn’t like being tied to it so she left way before. But even though I’m kind of stuck here I do enjoy it.”

“Your mum left?”

Anna sucked in a breath. She supposed she should have been more careful with her choice of words, but now she had mentioned it there was no taking that back. 

“Yes. When I was 8. She wasn’t really mum material,” she said diplomatically. Explaining to Elsa that her mother liked the alcohol and drugs more than her own family felt impossible. “I see her sometimes, and we got along okay, but my grandparents are the ones who raised me.”

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that,” Elsa said empathetically, pausing to really look at Anna. She avoided her gaze, not needing, or wanting her pity. She had enough of that from the village. Being so small had its disadvantages, and everyone knowing everyone’s business was one of them. 

“Don’t be. Family problems, or maybe just life problems. I know I’m not the only one,” Anna said, thinking back to Elsa and their conversation about her grandmother and her ex. Her life was just as complicated, even if it was for completely different reasons.

“Life problems, indeed,” she agreed soberly, not prying for further details, and Anna respected that. It was a far cry from the gossip mongers she usually served.

Wordlessly, Anna continued arranging the wedding bouquets, acutely aware Elsa was now watching her every move with interest.

“Do you ever get lonely working here?” she finally broke the fragile silence that had fallen between them.

“I… don’t really notice? Maybe?” Anna wasn’t sure how to answer the question. “I try to keep myself busy. With so much to get done I don’t have time to think about much else. I need to get the flowers ready for the wedding this afternoon, and then for the church sermon tomorrow. And next week there are two more weddings.”

“Oh! I am sorry; I didn’t mean to keep you from anything -”

“- No - no, you’re not. I didn’t mean -”

“But you have Sundays off?” 

Anna let out a low sigh. She hadn’t meant to offend the woman, though she did wonder if Elsa had even read the signage on the door when she let herself in.

“Yes. I don’t open but I sometimes,” always, “get things ready for the week.”

Elsa pursed her lips and for a moment Anna thought she might say something else, but instead she took a long sip of her coffee, finishing the mug.

“Thank you, for both the coffee and the chat. But I really shouldn’t keep you any longer.”

You really don’t have to go. But as much as she wished for it, Anna couldn’t voice the words out loud.

“…Thank you for the scissors,” she settled with, and it was enough to draw a smirk from her new friend.

Anna’s breath caught as Elsa leaned in dangerously close, pinning her to the counter. The brush of her arm against her own sent sparks through her. Teal eyes glanced down, catching the pale pink of her lips, and for the briefest of moments Anna thought she might lean just that touch closer. 

The sound of Elsa placing her mug down on the hard surface behind snapped her back to reality.

“Be safe with them.” 

Anna nodded wordlessly, unable to move from where she stood frozen as Elsa stepped out of the shop.

—-

Am I reading too much into it? Anna sat on the windowsill, gazing across the village, mug of coffee in hand. It was what she loved the most about living above the shop: from here she could see past the green, to the collection of shops on the other side, the tall spire of the local church peeking above large oak trees, and beyond to the series of cottages. She counted along each roof, picking out Elsa’s cottage.

Craft scissors. Completely and utterly unsuitable for the precise clipping of her flower stems, and yet she adored them all the same. But what did they mean? They were such an unusual gift. And the seriousness offset by the playfulness… Elsa was impossible to work out.

Don’t be a fool. A smart city girl like her would never look twice at a school drop out like you.

Anna had seen the bios of those successful girls on that dating app. Designer clothes, immaculate makeup, high flying jobs; a lot like Elsa. It was a far cry from Anna’s messy bedhead and clumsiness.

She let out a low sigh. I wonder if she’ll stick around for long. Who was she kidding? As soon as Elsa sorted her relationship and apartment problem the girl would be out of this village in a flash. What else was to keep her here?

The sharp ring of her alarm made her leap out of her skin. In retaliation she tossed a book over, knocking it clean off the bedside table. Instead of shutting it up however, it continued to squeal in an even higher pitch.

“Stupid alarm,” she grumbled as she got up and reset it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. It wasn’t even 8am yet. God, who’d want flowers at this time?

“We’re closed!” she called out. After a second knock she rolled her eyes and headed downstairs.

I swear if it’s Mrs Peterson again. She knows I’m closed yet every Sunday she -

“- Elsa?” she said in surprise, the air knocked out of her completely at the sight of her. Anna blinked. In contrast to her previous two visits, Elsa wore a longer and brighter floral dress, complete with a wide brim straw hat. 

“Sorry. I saw movement by your window and I just… well… I got you some flowers…” she trailed off. Anna frowned, glancing between Elsa and the bunch of vibrant crocuses in her hand.

“Are those for me?” Anna asked, dumbfounded. “The shop has plenty of stock. I don’t need -”

“- They aren���t for your shop. They are for you,” Elsa clarified. Anna looked down at them again, unable to understand the gesture.

“I know you have a whole store full of them, and they probably mean something entirely significant that I do not know of,” Elsa said as she thrust the bunch out to Anna, “I picked them because they are the only thing growing in my garden… aside from the sunflowers, and they were so tall I felt too mean to take my scissors to them.”

Anna accepted the bunch tentatively, still not entirely sure what was happening. No one had ever gifted her flowers… or scissors for that matter.

“You know, I really should have gone with the sunflowers,” Elsa lamented, and Anna snapped back up immediately. “They are just so much more you.”

More me? Anna opened her mouth to question just what she meant when Elsa continued, “you could come by and see them, if you have any free time today. I’m not exaggerating when I say they are taller than us.”

Anna met Elsa’s vivid blue eyes squarely: so brave, yet so vulnerable in that moment.

“We get along well, don’t we? If I am imagining it please just tell me. I seem to have a terrible track record.”

She looked back down at the flowers, a variety of purple hues with flashes of white and yellow. They were as bright as they were beautiful: as gentle as snow, as warm as summer.

“Please say something before I perish on the spot.”

“…Please don’t perish. That would be awkward for everybody involved,” Anna finally said, giving her an apologetic look.

A soft chuckle escaped Elsa’s lips. “I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I? You’d think asking someone on a date wouldn’t be so difficult.”

A date?

“No. I am. I’m not - I don’t -” Anna paused and took a breath to get her thoughts straight. Everyone in the village will know if I see a local girl. Yet somehow the threat of that seemed so far away compared to the promise of a date with Elsa.

Don’t over think it.

“I would love to visit. I mean -”

Don’t worry about tomorrow. 

“- I’d like to go on a date. With you. Together. Obviously. Please make me stop talking.”

Long fingers threaded between her own, and Anna let out as gasp as Elsa boldly pulled her close.

“Together sounds perfect,” Elsa’s words were like velvet, and Anna had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

Just enjoy today. The future can wait.

[jimlingss]

Ducklings & Dimples

Original / Sequel

➜ Words: 26.8k

➜ Genres: 50% Adventure, 30% Fluff, 20% Action, Historical!AU - kind of

➜ Summary: Min Yoongi is sent off to the town of Millpass to complete a quest for his mentor. But there, he’s humiliated when he gets scammed and stolen from by the same person - you. // Alternatively: They like to call you a cheat, but you like to call it business. You’ve learnt that nothing in life comes for free. Rather, there are opportunities. And when you run into a certain human fighter with blonde hair, you’ll take advantage of his protection and embark on a quest together for profits, dragons, and a blossoming romance.

➜ Notes: Inspired and set in the world of Dungeons and Dragons. However, you do not need to have prior knowledge of the game or have played in order to read the story. ((Extra Info: Dungeons and Dragons is a fantasy role-playing tabletop game set in an imaginary world based loosely on medieval myth.))

The town of Millpass is lively and welcoming to its many tourists and travelers. It’s open to creatures with all kinds of backgrounds; the wealthy are able to purchase rare spices from the marketplaces while the poor arrive here to make a new living for themselves. It’s a place of opportunity.

  But Yoongi isn’t here to enjoy the town in spite of being a traveler — even if he’s observing his surroundings, taking in the warm weather, the animated atmosphere, the bustling tavern and wooden stalls lining the streets. Even if he’s feeling better after the tiresome journey getting here.   You, on the other hand, are taking full advantage of what this town has to offer.   “Get your potions of resistance! Made from the most experienced artificers and warlocks in the depths of Chult! Won’t get it anywhere else! Get your potions! Can’t go into battle without them!”   You’re holding stoppered bottles in both hands. The one in your left is a bubbling, neon red while the other is a frothy, icy blue. There’s a sign dangling from your neck and your leather satchel is slung across your body, a bag of holding that houses the rest of the bottles.    “Get your bottles!” Every time you jump, your braids bounce and dust flies onto your peasant dress and boots, but the brown shades easily hide just how dirty you are. “Excuse me, sir. Would you like one?”   You stop a brute-looking Dragonborn on the street and by the look of the axes in his possession, you assume he’s a barbarian. Your neck hurts when it knocks back to look at him. His shadow looms over you like a tree providing shade on a Summer’s day. He’s well over six feet tall.   “What does it do?” his voice is low and raspy, his brow lifted at the bottle.   “It’s potions of resistance! This one gives you resistance on heat and this other one gives you resistance on cold damage. They last for twenty four hours.”   “Twenty four? I thought it was only for an hour.”   “Well these are made specially from an ancient artificer from Chult that learned from a warlock that specializes in herbalism,” you say and he seems reluctant to believe you. After years of this, you can tell he’s about to walk away, so you come closer with shining eyes. “You wouldn’t want to waste this opportunity. Better to take a risk and try than to walk away without ever knowing, right? Don’t you want to satisfy your own curiosity and doubts?”   There’s a moment of silence.   Your persuasion works.   “How much?”   “Two gold pieces.”   “One,” he negotiates.   You hum as if considering it. Then, you nod. “Deal.”   The ruffian Dragonborn barbarian hands the gold piece over and you give him the glass container with the scarlet liquid, thanking him for doing business with you. As he walks away, you flip the gold coin up into the air with your thumb and snatch it in one hand with a grin. But there’s still nine more bottles to sell, so you quickly take your place again.   “Get your potions. Get your resistance potions—!” Your attention is suddenly taken by a passing stranger with a rounded face, sleepy features and baby yellow hair shagging in front of his forehead. “Hey, you! Duckling hair!”   Yoongi turns around at the shout and realizes you’re looking right at him.   Duckling hair?   He pinches the strands on his head, eyes flickering up, confused as all hell.    “You don’t want to miss this chance!” You grin and hop over to him, pulling another bottle out of your satchel swirling with a pale, pastel yellow that matches his head. “Want a potion of resistance? It’s made from an ancient artificer in Chult who learnt from a warlock who specializes in herbalism kits!”   “N—”   “I bet it wouldn’t even cost you a dime.” Your eyes skim him from head to toe, eyeing his outer clothing that you know wasn’t cheap. He wears a black, ample cloak with a hood, wool shirt and a sturdy belt that holds two different swords, and brown boots like you. “You’re probably going to spend the same amount on some food or a place to stay at, so why not fork out some now? How often do you take leaps of faith? And it might be helpful for any upcoming adventures or expeditions! Very suitable for fighting beasts and creatures. You never know when you might need it and it might just save your life!”   You’re persistent — your coaxing’s a talent in itself. And against all odds, Yoongi finds himself forking over a gold piece to the grinning peasant girl with glittering irises.   But as he walks away, wondering why he bought one, he brings the stoppered bottle up to eye-level. Yoongi swishes it and he sighs, realizing it’s just water. Dyed water in a bottle.   Feeling like an idiot, he turns around.   But you’re already gone.   //   After a successful morning of business, you decide to satisfy the hunger in your stomach and the stout lady behind the stall seems just as ecstatic as you wolf down her boiled and fried shrimp.   You pass her a silver piece as you grab another skewer of pineapple and lemon shrimp, inhaling them within seconds. Eyes pinpointed on some pepper shrimp, you fish into your bag for another silver or copper piece, but all you come up with is gold.    Gold that you know you need to save.   “Ca’ I ge’ one on th’ house?” you ask with your cheeks full.   The plump woman glares. “No.”   You’re unable to pout when you’re chewing your mouthful, but you suppose it’s fair. There’s nothing free in life. But there are opportunities. And as you swallow down your food, a man approaches the stall. At once, you recognize his tender features and the strands of his blonde hair that remind you of rubber ducklings.    Yet, he doesn’t seem to pay any mind to you or recognize you from earlier.    You suppose this is fair too — after all, you’re dressed in peasant clothing that’s meant to easily be overlooked and disguise you amongst the crowd of commoners.   “What’s your most popular kind?” he asks the stall lady who happily smiles.   “Of course, it’s our shrimp gumbo,” she answers and it’s ironically the most expensive one.   “I’ll take two then.” The man with pale lemon-coloured hair takes two silver pieces out of his pocket, handing it to her and she nods, telling him that it’ll be right out. In the meanwhile, you eye his pocket and naturally shuffle over. Turning your head as if you’re looking in the other direction, your fingers dip into his open cloak pocket. But your luck is rotten this time.   The man turns his head.   He looks right at you.   “Hey!”   Your hand curls around a foreign object and you snatch it before taking off. You run, darting down the road as fast as your legs can take you. But when you turn your head, you nearly scream. He’s hot on your heels, his gentle features twisted in an intimidating scowl. He looks like he’s going to kill you and it only serves as motivation to sprint faster even if your lungs burn.   He chases you, but when you turn the corner of the street, you duck behind an alley.   Looking down, you cuss. It isn’t a sack full of coins. It’s a damn scroll.    Opening it, you find it’s been sent by Mirla Nistar, some random lady who you’ve never heard about, and it details a quest to help this woman in the case of her missing daughter.    It’s useless………..Or is it?   At the same time, Yoongi heaves for air. His hands are on his hip and he cusses, having lost sight of you. In the span of one day, he’s been scammed and stolen from.   The town of Millpass isn’t welcoming at all.

As much as Yoongi wants to get out of this place, he knows he can’t until tomorrow at the earliest. He still has a responsibility to fulfill here, or rather, a favour. He’s been called to help his mentor’s old friend and if he didn’t respect her so much, he would’ve already left.   “Oh my goodness, you must be who Mirala sent! Come in, come in.” The tubby woman wearing three strands of pearls widens the door. He nods his head silently and makes sure to wipe off his dirty boots before he follows her inside her abode. He eyes her massive painted portrait hanging in the main room above the mantle that seems to follow him wherever he goes.    The ceiling is high, golden curtains draping the large bay windows into her garden bed and a couch and two armchairs are arranged in a semi-circle. The only luminescence comes from the orange glow of the roaring fireplace and Yoongi notices a buff Dragonborn barbarian seated comfortably in one of the armchairs, staring at the flames as if entranced.   Yoongi takes a seat and the Dragonborn seems to notice him, turning to stare.   “Hello. My name is Yoongi.”   The Dragonborn merely grunts.   “Tea anyone?” the woman tottles over with a tray.   Yoongi shakes his head. “I’m fine, thank you.”   The woman looks over to the Dragonborn and he nods. She pours it for him and drops in two sugar cubes but he never takes a sip. Yoongi clears his throat and looks to the clock, watching the arms tick away. “Is this everyone?” he asks, not expecting he would have to take this journey with only one other person.   Usually an adventure of this capacity would take four to five, but he didn’t mind.   The fewer people, the more efficient and faster the quest can be completed.   “I guess so.” The woman musters a smile and takes a seat. “I’m just grateful that anyone showed up to help me at all. If you don’t know my name is Sorli Stav and my….my daughter, Mina Stav, was taken by a dragon.”   The Dragonborn sputters and then clears his throat. Yoongi cocks a brow but returns his attention to the woman so she can continue telling her story.   “One minute we were in the middle of the forest and the next, I heard this roar and there was wind and then she was being taken! Gone! Just like that! Oh, my poor baby!” She clutches her pearls and wails ear-piercingly. “Please help her! It has to be the Dragon of the North. No one would do such a treacherous thing as to kidnap someone in broad daylight like that!”   “My condolences,” Yoongi offers to console her. His hands are placed on his knees and his posture is straight. “We will try our best to rescue her, rest assured.”   She nods, wiping the area beneath her eyes gingerly with her ring finger. “I have a sister in Rutherglen. Ashal Stav. She can help you. She lives close to the North. Please…”   Yoongi turns to find the Dragonborn staring at the flames that flicker. He’s been strangely silent so far. But then his lips part and he speaks three words...in an odd voice, slightly muffled but reminiscent of a child trying to lower their pitch. “What’s the reward?”   “What?” The woman’s head lifts and she exclaims, “Anything! I’ll do anything! You can have anything you’d like! Even my daughter’s hand in marriage.”   “No. I want gold.” The Dragonborn sharply inhales and leans forward while looking around the room as if estimating how much the house is worth. “How about ten thousand gold pieces….”   Yoongi nearly chokes. But he doesn’t comment — he’s met many different adventurers after all and each of them have their own motivations and quirks that are unnecessary to argue against.   “That’s all I have in my vault,” she murmurs, disheartedly.   “Five thousand for each of us. I think that’s fair. After all, the risk of fighting a dragon is substantially high and we’re putting our lives on the line. Unless….you don’t think your daughter is worth that much,” he mutters, clearly persuading the woman and succeeding in it.   “Deal! I’ll do it!” she agrees wholeheartedly and the Dragonborn barbarian grins.   “Of course, we’ll need half of the prepayment first before we can embark.”   She rises to her feet immediately. “I’ll run upstairs and scrape up what I can!”   Yoongi stares at the brute Dragonborn whose face glows in the fire’s crimson light. And the Dragonborn finally takes the dainty teacup to drink from it, pinky raised in the air.    The moment the lady comes back and the payment of two thousand five hundred gold pieces for each of them are given out, there are a few farewells said. She pleads with them to help her daughter until the last second and both nod, reassuring her that the girl will return shortly. But the moment the door shuts and Yoongi looks to his side, the Dragonborn has vanished.   He finds him down the road and quickly catches up. “Shouldn’t we discuss our plans?”   “Huh? Yeah, maybe in the morning.” The Dragonborn clears his throat. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”   “Wait. I don’t know your name,” Yoongi says, coming to a realization and quickening his pace when the Dragonborn walks faster.   “It’s Robert.”   The Dragonborn begins to break out into a light jog, getting farther away from him. Yoongi’s brows furrow deeper, exasperated by the evasiveness of his partner. He still has countless questions, needs to set a time and place they can meet tomorrow, so he shouts, “hold on!” and Yoongi extends his hand.   Except, his fingers go straight through where the Dragonborn’s shoulder should be.    Like it’s an illusion.   The two of them look right at each other.    Yoongi’s mouth opens. His eyes are wide. He’s baffled beyond speech. But then the Dragonborn takes off without another moment to waste, sprinting down the road. And it’s déjà vu.    “Hey!”   Unfortunately for the Dragonborn barbarian, he’s unable to make his getaway. Not when he’s too busy paying attention to Yoongi chasing him and not straight ahead. And his body collides roughly with another.    “Watch it, you!” the stranger snarls and it’s a stranger with the exact same face as his. “Wait a minute….!”   Yoongi catches up and looks between the two of them in absolute bewilderment. He wonders if this is some nonsensical dream or if he’s fallen into another plane of existence when there are two duplicates of every entity.   The two of them look up and down one another as if mirror reflections. They wear the exact same clothing, their faces exactly alike down to the detail, the weapons they carry the same.   “Who are you?!”   “W-Who are you?”   But on closer inspection, Yoongi finds tiny details that make all the differences. The Dragonborn he was speaking to is shorter and visibly thinner. The other Dragonborn, on the other hand, is towering in stature and his voice booms menacingly down the night street illuminated by lamp posts.   The Dragonborn Yoongi’s unfamiliar with steps forward and draws his greataxe. “I am Astrid, the Great from the Yarjerit clan! I am a descendant of the Wyrm Regent of the North, an ancient Golden Dragon from Everlund.”   Yet the Dragonborn beside him doesn’t back down. “I am Robert, the Great from the Yarjerit clan! I am a descendant of the Wyrm Regent of the North, an ancient Golden Dragon from Everlund.”   “Liar! You think I would not know everyone in my family?!”   “You’re the liar! You think I would not know everyone in my family?!”    It’s utterly ridiculous and Yoongi’s about to walk away from the sheer senselessness of the situation that’s worsening his headache. But then the Dragonborn who was with him flickers. Like the flame of a candle. Parts of his body become translucent, fading and flashing. He looks down at himself as if coming to a realization and cusses—   “Shit! Fuck.”   The spell ends.   The claws turn to fingers, mess of ropy hair morphing into two braids, golden scales and reptilian frills to smooth skin. The hide armor alter back into a brown dress, white chemise tucked into a full brown skirt and a bodice crisscrossed over to hold the attire together.   You’re fucked.   Yoongi’s eyes become rounded, his expression clearly telling you that he finally recalls who you are — but there’s little to dwell on when there’s a much larger threat at hand that also recognizes you.   “Wait a minute!” The real Dragonborn barbarian huffs from his nose. “I know you! You sold me that fake potion from earlier! You’re that fraud!”   “I prefer the title charlatan,” you say with a tiny smile and then slide behind Yoongi for cover.   Yoongi’s face twists in distaste, his mouth goes lopsided and his brows knit together as he looks at you, the conniving peasant girl who stole from him and scammed him too. But before he can move aside and let you deal with the consequences of your own actions, the Dragonborn clutches his greataxe with both hands and a battle cry tears from his throat.   Yoongi sighs in exhaustion and pulls his rapier from its sheath.   The Dragonborn barbarian swings. The axe hits Yoongi in his left shoulder but the blade is dull and not deep enough to make a real cut. The impact does more harm, but his grip tightens and he slashes the barbarian. It’s a critical hit, causing the Dragonborn to stumble back and Yoongi surges forward once, slicing the other male’s arm.   He shouts in pain and surrenders, backing away.   “I’ll find you again, thief! This isn’t over!” he swears and you peek out from hiding behind Yoongi’s frame.   The Dragonborn’s eyes narrow and he turns, eventually disappearing down the dark street.   Once the coast is clear, you finally breathe a sigh of relief. “Thanks for that, Yoongi. You really saved me there. I thought I was going to be in trouble for a second.”   You grin. It’s good to put a name to a face...or rather, a name to some hair. Calling him duckling right now wouldn’t be appropriate after all. But the man appears entirely unamused with your familiarity with him.    His brow cocks and his glare is only slightly intimidating. “What’s your real name?”   You hum. “Sorry, can’t tell you that.”   Yoongi scoffs and extends his arm, opening up his palm. “I want my scroll back and I want a refund.” The faster he gets his belongings returned to him, the faster he can leave. “You gave me dyed water.”   “I would give you back your gold piece, but I’m afraid I already spent it.” You smile brightly, hoping he doesn’t count the heavy sack of two thousand five hundred gold in your bag of holding. “And I left the scroll at Sorli Stav’s house. It’s not like you need it though, right?”   His impassive expression never changes.   “How about I strike you a deal?” You come closer, arms behind your back. “I was going to run away with the prepayment, but I’ll join you in your quest as a way to show my gratitude.”   Your eyes flicker down, scanning the expanse of the human fighter. You have absolutely zero plans of joining him in crawling into a dragon’s lair, but he doesn’t need to know that. All that matters is that he’s proven himself capable and strong. It might just be beneficial to go along with him for a little while. He could protect you, at least until your journey to Bogsburrough.    But the man never answers your offer, he merely scoffs.   //   It’s bright and early in the morning when you finally see a certain duckling-hair male exit the inn. He’s stretching his limbs, features still sleepy. But the process of getting the kinks out of his neck is interrupted when his eyes stray to you and he realizes you’re looking right at him.   “About time.” You approach, having been leaning against a wheelbarrow across the road with your arms crossed. You need to get out of here before that Dragonborn barbarian finds you again and tries to dig that axe into your leg. “I’ve been waiting for a good hour.”   “I have no plans in letting you join me,” he states in a husky timbre, already walking off.   You sync your steps with his, joining his side as you tilt your head and enjoy the azure shade of the sky. “That’s too bad then, but looks like we’re going in the same direction. What a great coincidence!” As if to mock him, you grin and hold up the scroll you claimed to have lost. Yoongi glares and snatches it back.   “Do whatever you want,” he mutters without looking at you and pockets the scroll.   You click your tongue in annoyance, falling behind him.    “Unlikable prick,” you curse in Elvish.    Suddenly, Yoongi turns around, bringing you to an abrupt halt. “That’s a new one. Usually people call me moody or a cold bastard. But if you have something to say, then at least be honest with yourself and say it to my face.”   You’re shocked.   You can feel your face heat with embarrassment, but more than that, you’re impressed.   With a newfound vigor and enthusiasm, you catch up with him and even overtake his speed. You lean close to the man, inspecting his facial features and ears closely. But he doesn’t look like an elf. “Are you a Half-Elf? How can you speak Elvish so fluently?”   “No, I’m not a Half-Elf,” Yoongi sighs halfheartedly. “I was just taught the language.”   Just like you.   You’re curious. Maybe the two of you had more similarities than you thought.   “Sorry, my bad,” you apologize in the foreign language with a cheeky smile, following along happily.    Eventually, the both of you leave the town of Millpass behind with your little bags and belongings, taking the path up North. Or at least that’s what you’re assuming with the way Yoongi pulls out his map and tilts it around every so often. Part of you worries he doesn’t know where he’s going, but if he got to Millpass in the first place then you know he’ll figure it out.   After all, it’s not like you’re eager to go complete this little quest of his.   Payment of no payment, you don’t fuck with dragons. You’re the last person who should fight one.   “I have a plan. A way I think the both of us can come to an agreement on.”   “Which is?” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, still concentrated on his little map.   “What do you think of commissioning other heroes to go fight this battle for us?” you offer with glittering eyes. “We can pay them a hundred gold pieces each, which is quite a lot. And then we can go back to Sorli Stav and collect the rest of our reward. We wouldn’t profit as much, but it’s worth it and there’s no risk of danger!”   Yoongi eyes you in silence. “You’re good at persuading others, aren’t you?”   You scoff, lifting your chin up high. “Of course. I should be! It’s my career, after all. I’m a business woman.”   “A cheat?”   “A business woman,” you insist much to his amusement.   From the corner of your eye, you swear Yoongi smiles.   The forest is humble, lush, and blooming. Its canopy is eclipsed by willow, elm, and sycamore, their leaves and branches allow for just enough light to cascade through to the grass beds beneath. The array of common flowers adds a playful element and makes it brighter, letting you enjoy the view as you take the stone path winding through the trees.    Yoongi is often quiet, you realize. Maybe he’s not one for making small conversation or he’s suspicious of you — which you wouldn’t blame him for considering the things you’ve done and the nature of your occupation. So your ears tune to the buzzing of the insects and the birds chirping overhead. Until the noises are overridden by boots and other voices in the evening.   “Oh I can’t wait to get myself some pork chop and curds. I’ve been craving it for a whole month.”   “No way! Our first meal is totally going to be cheese pie and onion soup! That tastes a lot better than pork chops!”   “Nu-uh!”   Another voice pipes up, “How about minted pea soup?”    They’re a group of adventurers. You can’t see it in their weary faces, worn clothing, and weapons at their sides. And immediately you grin. The timing couldn’t be any better.   “Oh!” They stop when your groups cross paths. Their excited eyes meet yours and Yoongi’s; the man is much more reluctant than you are. But you suppose he isn’t naturally enthused in the first place. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen other people! Are you travelers as well?”   “Something of the sort.” You smile, arms placed behind your back and by the glare Yoongi pins to the back of your head, you know he can tell there’s an idea brewing in your head.   With the sun falling over the horizon after a long day of journeying, it’s rather easy to persuade them if you and Yoongi can join them in setting up camp. They seem eager to allow you in as well as if they’ve missed seeing new faces around and you wholly take advantage of that.   “This is Alvyn,” the leader gestures to the small, fey creature with a warhammer discarded by his side as he’s busy digging into a frog on a skewer. “He’s our cleric Gnome.”   “Nice to meet you,” he says past a cheekful and you swear some of the food flings into Yoongi’s face, making the man glower and wipe his forehead.   “This is Thunder from Bright Cliffs Clan,” the Half-Elf gestures towards the catlike humanoid. He’s slender and covered in spotted fur, a long tail flickering behind him and retractable claws that digs into his roasted chicken thigh. You look between him and Yoongi, perplexed at how much Yoongi looks like a cat as well. But you don’t voice it out when the man glares at you for staring at him for so long. “He’s our Tabaxi ranger.”   “And I’m just an old man,” the old man pipes up with a hearty chuckle and thick accent you recognize from the South. “Chester’s my name, but everyone calls me Chuck.”   “He’s our Druid,” the Half-Elf says with a smile. “And I’m Greg, a Half-Elf bard.” He’s as tall as Yoongi is, but with longer hair, the tips of his ears pointed and he’s much more poised.   “Nice to meet you. I’m just a peasant girl.” Yoongi scoffs and it’s your turn to glare. But when he never introduces himself, you nudge him roughly, jabbing your elbow in his ribs until he relents with an enormous sigh.   “Yoongi. Human. Fighter.”   “Sorry, he’s unsociable.”   “Not to worry!” Greg laughs. “It’s just nice to meet you all. Where were you headed?”   “We’re going to Castrow,” you lie without even blinking. “My husband and I are visiting his mother.”   Yoongi is sorely unimpressed. But the others nod joyfully, looking between the pair of you as if they didn’t expect you to have that kind of relationship. Though, they don’t question it as if it’s completely believable.    “That’s quite a long way away,” Chuck says, “You ought to be careful around these neck of the woods, you never know what might jump out of you.”   “That’s right!” Alvyn exclaims. “There might be wolves.”   “It’s okay. My dearest husband will protect me.” You grin at Yoongi but his expression remains impassive and he makes no comment much to your dismay.   They seem like a capable group, one that can fight a dragon off and might just be willing to do it for a hundred gold coins each. It might take some sweet-talking to convince and hire them, but you don’t think it’ll be particularly difficult. For now though, you try to get yourself acquainted with them and build some rapport.    “Hey, isn’t that going to burn?” Yoongi taps you on your shoulder and you break out of your trance. He points to the mutton you have at the end of your stick that’s being roasted in the fire.   You pull it out and it’s charred all around, a thin layer of black. You shrug. “I like it like that.”   Yoongi watches you eat it and his face twists as if he’s biting into a lemon.   The entire group is seated around the campfire and you’re sitting especially close, not worried at all by the sparks. It’s comforting and you feel a natural pull to stare at the red and orange flames, listen to the crackle and sputter of the fire, watch the smoke until you fall asleep…   But you force yourself out of it when there’s an abrupt scream.   The Gnome is shrieking terrifyingly, black boot upside down in hand. Then, he bursts out laughing in embarrassment. “A spider got into my boot!”   “No worries.” The Tabaxi is sympathetic. “That’s happened to me more times than I can count!”   “Who’s turn is it to tell a story?” Chuck says mid-chew. “It better be a good one and not like that one about the snake that gave that apple to that lady in the garden. That was terribly boring.”   “It’s my turn.” Greg raises his arm and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. You and Yoongi are getting whiplash, turning your heads and trying to keep up with their fast-paced conversation.    Greg clears his throat. “Back when I was in Al’bamo, I heard this wondrous tale. Many whispered his name. A boy, called Jungkook, said he made a heavier-than-air machine, that could fly without magic.”   There are ooh’s and ahh’s around the campfire.   You look around at them, watching the way they lean in as Greg continues, “He rode what was called ‘The Airplane’ out of a cliff, as a crowd watched him fly it into the unknown. Legend says Jungkook will one day return, giving flying machines to everyone.”   Uh-oh. One of your worst fears is manifesting—   They’re idiots.   “Excuse me,” you raise your voice and enunciate each syllable carefully. “What adventure exactly did you just embark on?”   “Why, we were sent to investigate why animals in the forest have suddenly dropped down dead and why people who have wandered inside have gone missing!” Chuck says as he strokes his white beard and the others around him nod. “We went in and got lost for a full week! Had no clue where we were going whatsoever!”   “You...didn’t have a map?” Yoongi asks, interested in the story as well.   “We did,” Greg says, “But then we found out no one could read it.”   The old man laughs. “Anyhow, we really thought we were going to die of starvation or dehydration, whatever comes first. Then luckily, we happened to come across a pond, so we drank from it. But the water was poisonous!”   The Tabaxi shivers as if he can still recall. The Half-Elf nods along.   You’re listening while becoming progressively more horrified.   “Then we ate some leaves and those were poisonous too!” Part of you wants to believe these are all exaggerated lies to build up the comedic effect but by each creature’s expressions, you can’t detect a single shred of deception. “What do you know, the ogre who was wreaking havoc in the forest came by and thought we were dead. So he dragged us to his cave to eat us, but right when we were put in the water, the ogre suddenly clutched his chest and fell over.”   Your brows shoot up. “A heart attack?”    They shrug.   “Anywho, we stumbled out of there, fell down a few ditches, rolled down a few hills. Almost died again. Then this little fellow,” Chuck says as he signals to the Gnome cleric, “found us and cured us from the poison and now we’re alive!”   “We defeated the ogre!” Greg declares with a giant hurrah and they high five one another.   In the meanwhile, you and Yoongi exchange equally skeptical expressions.    They accomplished their goal out of astronomical sheer luck — which is a talent in itself.    But you can’t rely on pure fortune.    Looking at them with clearer perception, you know it’ll be an impossibility for them to fight a dragon and not die trying. They’ll never be able to do your bidding for you.   Night falls and there’s a little more conversation exchanged before they’ve all fallen asleep.   You’re sleepy as well, knees gathered to your chest, arms wrapped around and your head beginning to bob as you stare at the blazing inferno. You’re sitting close but you’re most comfortable there where the fire is right in front of you and the flames nearly lick at your cheeks.   “This is not going to work,” you murmur to Yoongi whom you still know is wide awake. He’s distrustful of others — you can tell with the way he refuses to relax around these strangers, still seated straight and his vision swooping around the darkness of the forest. “It’s not worth investing in this group.”   He laughs, the sound mellifluous in your ears and above the crackle of the bonfire. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”   “I’ll just go,” you exhale in exhaustion. “The reward is worth it anyways, but I can’t promise I’ll help you fight that dragon.”   Yoongi hums a low note deep within his chest and shifts his gaze towards you. He finds the fire is yet to die out. If anything, it’s brighter and more blazing than before. He observes the way you poke and prod at it, as if you don’t have it in you to let it die out.   “What kind of magical caster are you?” Yoongi asks. He knows full well the only ones who can disguise themselves the way you can are bards, sorcerers, or wizards. But you don’t have musical instruments with you or any magical items he’s seen either.   “What do you mean?” You turn to him, blinking once. “I’m just a normal peasant girl.”   He scoffs, knowing better than to believe you.   And a smile forms on your features.   You return to stare at the fire, listening to the soothing sputter and pop.    “My name is Y/N,” you murmur and Yoongi never says anything in response. But if you turned around, you would see the way your name forms it on his lips, speaking it silently as if it’s something to remember.   //   The pair of you continue your journey and the group of ‘heroes’ are sad to bid you farewell, but you’re happy to get rid of them. If there was anything more than a sham than you, it was them.   You can already envision them going back to town and being celebrated — without anyone actually being aware that they did absolutely nothing. They’ll reap the benefits and rewards, have feasts and be honoured. But you suppose that’s the way life is. The undeserving often are the most praised. It’s not like you mind it though, sometimes it can be good to take advantage of.   You’re also glad to get rid of them considering it’s less chaotic and much quieter. You prefer it when it’s just you and Yoongi. His company is rather pleasant, even when you’re used to just traveling by yourself.   “You know, we can take a shortcut to Rutherglen through Bogsburrough. Have you ever heard of it?”   “I’ve heard of it.” He side-eyes you. “But it’s a detour, not a shortcut.”   “It’ll be a detour that’ll be worth it.” You grin. “I’ll make sure of it.”   Yoongi scoffs, about to ask you how you’ll do that — but the banter is abruptly cut short when a massive mastiff comes bounding by. It’s an impressive hound with taupe fur, big enough that a Hafling could probably ride it. You’ve only seen a mastiff once before when it was trained as a guard dog for some affluent lady.   You’ve certainly never witnessed one walking itself through the forest without a care in the world.   Yoongi is as bewildered as you are.   But a minute later, an exhausted warrior is lurching forward, holding a leash attached to a broken collar as he tries to catch his breath. Then he stops a meter away, pathetically sobbing and wailing at the top of his lungs. He cries something akin to ‘come back!’.   While Yoongi is prepared to continue walking, much to his dismay, you approach the warrior.   “Is there something wrong?” you ask in spite of already having a good idea.   “M-My hunting dog just ran off! He’s been...been running off for an hour! Oh, Sparks!”   You hum a low note, arms crossed as you look in the distance where the mastiff went. It’s an opportunity, one that’s presented itself and you’ve made a living capitalizing on these opportunities.   “Tell you what.” You turn to him, eyes already glittering. “I’ll catch that little pet of yours at a price.”   He’s easily persuaded and even looks at you as if you’re his last hope. “I’ll give you all the riches I have.”   And that’s how you and Yoongi end up straying off the stone path, ankle deep in the forest floor’s tickling grass while screaming, “Sparks! Sparks, where are you?!”   “Come here, doggy!”   Yoongi gets tired faster than you do. He was reluctant to follow your whims in the first place, but now his voice gets quieter and his arms droop to his side. You don’t blame him — he doesn’t seem to be like someone who enjoys the sweltering sun or buzzing insects trying to nip him.   “Don’t give up, duckling!” you shout as encouragement, trying to boost his morale and his head cranes towards you, the most unimpressed expression etched on his features.   “I don’t get why you volunteered to do this.”   “What? You don’t take me as the altruistic type?” You burst out laughing when his blank face remains the same, clearly not buying your act. “He said he would give us twenty gold pieces. That’s a lot even for something like this.”   It goes silent as you both venture deeper into the forest, twisting through the trees and making sure you don’t trip over any branches. But then he breaks the quietness with a question.    “Why are you trying so hard to collect gold?”   “Because I have a dream,” you murmur softly with a smile, stealing a glance at Yoongi to see him already staring at you intently. “I want to build a big house in the middle of nowhere, preferably a meadow. I’d read books all day, paint, garden. Anything. But it’ll be a place I can call my own. I’d get a wizard to put up a wall of force for me too, so no one could find me. My family won’t be able to find me.”   Yoongi stares at you, wondering why you have such a desire, what led you to it, why you would want to hide from your family. But he supposes it’s nothing particularly strange. After all, he’s here because of his family too.   Maybe it’s something the two of you have in common.   “I haven’t told anyone this before,” you mutter out loud as you come to the realization and then you twirl around to face him, smiling widely. “A secret for a secret. It’s only fair.”   The blonde man scoffs. “I never agreed to that.”   “I only know your name. Or are you purposely trying to keep up the mysterious front? I bet you think it’s attractive, don’t you?” Your eyes mischievously sweep him up and down, and Yoongi finds your gaze oddly invasive. A sly smirk even appears on your lips. “I bet it works for you too, doesn’t it? You like it when girls wonder about you and they like wondering about you too.”    “No.”   “Uh-huh, skirt chaser. Listen, I won’t judge you for your strategies. If they work, then they work.”   If Yoongi could expend the rest of the air in his body for the longest sigh, he would. “For your information, I am an honourable knight from the Order of the Black Sun. Mirla Nistar was my mentor and she’s taught and trained me in the Great Weapon Fighting technique for the past decade. She’s old friends with Sorli Stav and this quest is a favour I’m doing for her.”   Yoongi clears his throat. “I actually come from a rather famous family—”   But you’re not paying any attention.   “Shush!” You’ve found the mastiff. It’s a shadow barely from the distance and before Yoongi can strategize a plan to take it, you sprint after the beast. “Sparks, you motherfucker!”   Yoongi groans and then runs after you. He pulls out his rapier, the sword sharply cutting through the wind, but you turn around with a frown. “Don’t.”   His brows furrow, unsure of what you mean and what your plans are. But then he watches as you hold something discreetly in your bag and murmur something beneath your breath, how you open your other palm and a giant bone appears in your hand. Yoongi pays close attention and realizes it’s not conjured. It’s an illusion.   One that the mastiff fails to detect.   Instead, he sees the delectable bone for what it is and you make an effort to throw it in the area you came from. “Go get it, boy!”    The mastiff leaps through the forest for the illusionary bone, the same direction his owner is waiting.   //   Yoongi swears this is the happiest he’s ever seen you — humming with a skip in your step, throwing your heavy sack of gold pieces up and down your right hand while there’s a permanent cheery smile plastered across your cheeks.    Well this might be one of several times he’s seen you in this state. He remembers you were fairly enthused when he relented and allowed you to follow him in the first place. You also seemed pretty delighted when you scammed him too.   The coins clink as you toss it and Yoongi scoffs, finally tearing his eyes away from you. “I want my half.”   “I know,” you sing-song. “We’re a team now and I’m fair in square, for your information.”   He almost snorts. “Sure.”   “What? You don’t believe me?”   “I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up with all my weapons gone and my own clothing stripped.”   “Hmm, that makes you smart then,” you snicker and the corner of Yoongi’s mouth curls. “We should set up camp before the sun goes down. It’s getting cold.”   He pulls out his rolled map from his pocket and spreads it. “We could, but there's a tavern inn stop about half an hour away,” he says and your ears perk. “I don’t know if you want to—”   Yoongi doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before you’re already running.   He laughs and wonders just how much energy you have. What’s stranger is the fact that energetic people tend to drain him, yet somehow you keep him from being tired like he usually is.    You spin around when you’re half-way down the path. “C’mon, old man! I’ll even treat you!”   Yoongi scoffs, but his lips curl into a smile.   It’s night by the time you arrive — the two of you are exhausted, feet aching with an intense need to rest them. The tavern is placed rather oddly, right on the side of the road by the forest with the candlelights inside glowing on the path. But with the noise from inside, you suppose it’s an unexpectedly good location. After all, there are countless travelers who are always searching for a rest stop like this one.   Unfortunately, your beeline straight to the door is impeded by a drunk.   “Hey, watch it!” you cuss at them when your shoulders collide. “Idiot.”   But as you turn around, you freeze.   The stranger is a Goliath monk who is eight feet tall. You can tell with his gray skin that’s littered with tiny growths akin to pebbles and darker patches. And he towers over you, glowing green eyes peering into your fragile soul. The Goliath reeks of alcohol, unsteady on his feet, but gaze unwavering. You notice the way his hands are wrapped in brass knuckles, his armor clanking.   “You wanna fight?!” his voice bellows out and you immediately hide behind Yoongi.   Yoongi holds in his sigh, mind already cursing you. He’s sure you’re the absolute bane of his existence and one day will get him killed, but for now, he stands tall and his chin lifts.   The Goliath monk isn’t intimidated, yet he turns with narrowed eyes lingering on the pair of you.   Once he’s gone, Yoongi cranes his neck and glares.   “Can you try not getting us killed for once?”   “Hey, it wasn’t my fault! He still bumped into me. Plus, I had it under control.”   “Control, huh?” His brow cocks and he eyes you.   You grin and correct yourself, “You had it under control, oh great knight from the Order of the Red Dragon and my sole protector, Yoongi.”   “It’s Order of the Black Sun,” he exhales and opens the door before you can land yourself in more trouble out here. “And I never agreed to protect you.”   “Yeah, but you still do anyway…”   The tavern is bustling, a good amount of creatures already crowded around tables with their own drinks in hand. They’re all travelers from different kinds of places, having gathered for a night of proper rest with a roof over their heads. You and Yoongi head over to the bar, taking the menu from a busty waitress.   “She your type?” you lean in close, wiggling your brows. Yoongi is unamused and you laugh. “What? Hey, I won’t judge. I understand a man’s needs. Might even help you out if you want me too — I got a way with words.”   He doesn’t think you realize the implication of what you’re saying. But he shoves you away before you can feel the way his face heats unusually.    You’re interrupted by the barkeep, a rough-looking dwarf standing on a wooden stool to reach the counter. “What can I do ya folks for?”   The pair of you finally look over the selection, but are completely overwhelmed. There’s a hundred things and by the third page Yoongi flips, you give up on reading it all. “Surprise us.”   “Sure thin’.” The barkeep goes to grab a glass and selection of bottles, fluidly flipping them back and forth and pouring different substances into it. He juggles them, but without the intent to impress — he’s simply doing his job and it’s even more remarkable.    There’s a bright flash of fire at some point and you gasp, eyes glittering.   Then, the barkeep slaps down a crimson shot in front of Yoongi. “Go ahead.”   Yoongi, on the other hand, is much less excited than you are and skeptically stares at it. “What is it?”   “Tell ya afterwards,” the barkeep answers.   Yet, the man is still carefully assessing the liquid and sloshes it as if he’s worried it’ll be poisonous. You nudge him hard enough that he almost falls off the stool. “C’mon, duckling! Don’t be a wuss.”   Yoongi glares at you, eyes half-lidded and he never breaks eye contact when he brings the glass to his lips, taking the entire shot in one smooth motion. The liquid burns.    As you’re wondering if he makes those bedroom eyes to every female he comes into contact with and if that’s part of his mysterious moves to seduce, he tears away from you and wheezes.   You burst out laughing.   Yoongi feels the hot embrace of hell in his lungs. “W-What is that?!” It’s as if he drank fire itself and he feels warm from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, already breaking a sweat at his hairline.   “Drink’s called a Fireball,” the barkeep grins, happy that the effect worked. “Just like the spell, eh? And you even get that cold resistance for the next thirt’ minutes.”   “Did it taste good?” You lean in, eyes glittering with curiosity.   “I thought I was going to die.”   It’s your turn next and you watch in amazement as the barkeep makes your drink. A whole glass gets slapped in front of you afterwards instead of a shot. It’s clear with opalesque swirls with specks of glowing pink lights. It already reeks of alcohol, more than Yoongi’s did.   “Made with Tiefling fire vodka, dash of pixie sugar dust, teaspoon of honey, an’ two spells. One is faerie fire and the other ain’t named, but ’s an ancient spell of warlock origin.” The spiel sounds like something you’d make up on a whim, but it’s intriguing. “Go ahead, girl.”   Yoongi opens his mouth. “Wai—”   But it’s too late. You’re already drinking. Then the taste explodes into your mouth. Your eyes grow wide at how amazing it is. It tastes like tropical juice, pineapple and raspberries with a kind of smokiness to it that reminds you of the charcoal of a fire or burnt crisp around meat.    It’s amazing and you down the entire thing within seconds.   You slap the glass to the counter in a ‘thump’, a burp leaving your stomach. You’re dazed, mind clouded, unable to think properly even when Yoongi worriedly calls your name thrice.   “Drink’s called Nyssa’s Nectar,” the barkeep slurs with a ginormous grin. You feel strange, the tips of your fingers tingling and your limbs itching. It isn’t just your eyes or your imagination either. “Turns you into the opposite gender. Right down to your clothes!”   Suddenly, your legs expand, your arms grow more muscular, your hair morphs into a shorter form and your dress distorts into pants and a tunic.    “What?!”   “Really?!”   Yoongi is appalled, his jaw dropped. In the meanwhile, you’re giggling in amazement while you check your pants, gasping at what you see inside. “Don’t worry, it wears off in the mornin’,” the barkeep informs and then tottles away to serve the next customers.    “Yes!” you drunkenly laugh and noisily cheer. “This is the best disguise yet!”   “I can’t believe—...hey! Where are you going?!”   You’ve stumbled off your stool to a table of two female elves, leaning over with a sly smirk.    “Heyo, females. Wanna try a potion?” You pull two stoppered bottles out from your bag, clutching it tightly. “They’re philter of love! Get any creature you wanna charm for an hour! Don’t waste an opportunity like this—” Mid-hiccup, you turn around to see tender features and a mop of pale yellow hair reminiscent to a duckling’s fur. “Hey, Yoongi! Wanna buy one? It’ll be five hundred gold!”   “I’m so sorry for her— his behaviour.” He grabs your collar and starts to pull you away while the elves giggle. But Yoongi doesn’t get a hold of you for long. Your passion for selling is big and you scramble out of his grasps to another table of adventurers with bottles overflowing your arms.   It’s the last thing you remember.   //   There’s a deafening bang.   You groan, whining Yoongi’s name and mumbling to sleep in another five minutes. But—   “Get up!” The barkeep yells, loud enough to burst your eardrums. You open your eyes, wincing from the bright sunlight coming through the windows and you lift your head off the wooden table, coming face to face with the dwarf. “Ya got a duel at noon and you got fifteen minutes left. Better get goin’, eh?”   “What?”   You look to your side where Yoongi’s also fallen asleep, unaffected by the noise like he’s a brick and not a human. It takes a good minute for what the barkeep told you to sink in, and then you’re shaking Yoongi frantically.   “What.” he grunts angrily.   “Yoongi, Yoongi. Get up. I challenged someone to a duel at noon and there’s only fifteen minutes left. Oh lord, if you don’t help me, they’re going to come find me and I’m going to die!”   There’s a sigh. Then he raises his head, eyes narrowed. “What?”   Creatures are gathered outside the tavern on the road, most likely patrons from last night. They form a long oval, encircling both you and Yoongi in and not allowing either of you to escape. At the other end stands an eight feet tall Goliath monk — the same one you bumped into last night.    But he doesn’t seem to remember you from that incident.   “That scrawny boy ran like a coward!” The Goliath’s voice booms, rousing on the crowd of bored travelers who haven’t watched a proper match in ages. He’s referring to your male form and then points at Yoongi. “No matter! He was your friend, no? He was with you all night! You will fight in his place!”   The Goliath’s glowing eyes pierce into Yoongi’s and you peek out from right behind him.   You have no idea what you said to make the Goliath so pissed. Usually monks are fairly peaceful and they don’t drink either, but there seems to be plenty of exceptions to the rules at the moment.   “I am very, very sorry, Yoongi,” you murmur in his ear. “I swear, I’ll make it up to you ten folds.”   He turns his head slightly. “I am going to kill you.”   You pat him on the back, ignoring his blatant threat. “Don’t worry, I’ll support you from behind.”   At once, the Goliath monk runs forward and attacks Yoongi with his closed fist. The punch slams straight into his abdomen and you move out of the way, wincing. Yoongi’s air is knocked out of his lungs. He wheezes and the Goliath swings again, missing once and barely grazing Yoongi’s arm on the other.   The crowd cheers like a bunch of maniacs and Yoongi draws his shortsword from his side. He swings twice, slashing against the Goliath’s chest. He surges forward, managing another slice.    But the Goliath looks barely affected, merely pushed back and angered.    Your jaw clenches and you reach out, hand wrapping around Yoongi’s wrist. You yank him back so he’s behind you and his eyes widen at what’s in your other hand. It’s an orb with swirling orange and blazing red — as if fire has been encapsulated into a crystal ball.    It’s an arcane object. A spellcasting focus.   It’s the way arcane spells can channel their power.   And you let go of him in favour of pointing your finger at the Goliath. Suddenly, a bright streak flashes out of your skin towards the eight foot male, blossoming into an explosion of flames with a low roar. There are terrifying screams and shouts, the crowd dispersing and running for their lives before they’re burnt to a crisp.   Yoongi looks away when the light becomes overwhelming and the Goliath shouts in pain.   When the fire disperses, the Goliath is still standing and storms towards you. He lands an attack on your right shoulder, punching you enough to bruise. He frantically throws two more hits but misses both times when his movements are no longer calculated.   Yoongi takes the opportunity to slice his sword twice more on the Goliath. Then you throw another fireball from your fingertips, allowing the flames to bloom and roar towards him.   When the smoke dissipates, the Goliath is on the ground, unconscious.   You grin, clapping your hands at the outcome of the duel in place of the audience that’s disappeared. But Yoongi looks at you, both unamused and impressed.    His brow lifts. “Just a peasant girl?”    You give him a cheesy smile. “With maybe a little magic.”   //   Bogsburrough is a town hidden in a thick swamp to avoid governments and large cities. It’s a dismal place with rotting trees and a certain stench in the air, each of your steps sinking in its mud. But many valued illegal goods are made in this area and traded, such as fatal poisons, meat of endangered species, addictive substances, and many other items treasured by outlaws.   The underground market is also rich with life, a bustle in itself. Bandits dressed in black have set up stalls along with other crooks and fugitives, servicing wanderers and travelers alike.   You and Yoongi are two of these people taking a look around.   “Yoooongi, I’m sorry,” you whisper in his ear for the thousandth time, glued right by his side. He’s been silent so far and you know with that look on his face, he’s had enough of you. “On the bright side, you did a good job during the fight. You looked really cool. I bet you have a line up of mistresses who want to be wedded to you.”   Unfortunately, your persuasion doesn’t seem to have an effect on him anymore. Your buttered words don’t change his stoic state.    After a moment, Yoongi breaks his silent treatment. “Stop trying to get us killed all the time, brat.”   You sulk at him, holding onto his arm. But the cute act doesn’t seem to appeal to him either — or at least he doesn’t show that it does. “It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose, duckling.”   Still, Yoongi doesn’t shove you off from holding his arm, so you take it as a win.   “What do you want to do here?”   “I have some stuff to sell.”    The magical satchel slung across your body weighs fifteen pounds, but it can hold up to five hundred pounds and is two feet in diameter and four feet deep. There’s been plenty of things you’ve been collecting that you need to get rid of and more ‘potions’ that you would like to sell.   Yoongi’s brow lifts. “You can sell your things anywhere.”   He isn’t wrong. A detour to Bogsburrough is completely unnecessary if the only reason is to sell.   There’s a moment of contemplation and then you concede, deciding to tell him about another secret, or rather… “There’s a rumour.”   The two of you slow down and your eyes meet. “They say the tapestries in the palace are forgeries. Apparently, the previous king pawned them off and the current one couldn’t find them, so they had to be replaced with some replicas. The royal family would be really grateful if they were retrieved and would probably give a very handsome reward. You know what that means, right, Yoongi? I could make my dream come true.”   The struggle of scraping up with a few gold pieces at a time would end.   You could finally have your house built in the middle of nowhere, hidden from civilization, isolated from all people and creatures.    “So you’ve been searching for these tapestries to return them to the royal family?” he asks.   “Yep, and I think it might be in Bogsburrough.”   Without warning, the two of you are interrupted by a human talismonger dressed in white robes. “What a beautiful couple! I see much compatibility and fortune! I bet you’re looking to have children soon, aren’t you—”   You’re flustered, your entire brain delayed as your mouth slowly opens.    But Yoongi is much calmer. “No—”   The talismonger doesn’t give him a chance to speak. “We have charms to increase fertility and charms for impotence. Tell you what? I’ll give it to you for five silver pieces!” He spreads his entire hand in front of your face and Yoongi’s, overwhelming you with the sheer volume of his voice.   “That’s quite alright—”   “Okay, okay!” Creatures passing turn their heads at the ruckus. “An impotence charm for four silver pieces!”   At this point, you’re getting irritated. “We don’t need it!” you shout. “My husband does not have issues with impotence!”   The two of you push past the obnoxious man, but then he loudly haggles for the entire market to hear— “FINE! Okay, sir! I’ll sell you the charm to fix your impotence for half price!”   Both you and Yoongi freeze in your steps. Your necks crane around. Your intimidating glares bore into his face, Yoongi’s hands gripping his sword, and your swirling orb of fire is clutched in your hand. He squeals in fear.    No one gets to cheat a cheat.   “Terrible technique,” you mutter when you’ve made your way down the market. “He’s supposed to convince and persuade them, not try to embarrass the customers. Horrible business man.”   The corner of Yoongi’s mouth curls and he chuckles. “Yeah? Well, you’re not any better.”   “Hey, I’m so much better! I do business properly.”   “You lie about the product.”   “It’s called a business technique.”   You look around the stalls and what’s for purchase. But once you’ve made it to the end of the market, there are no tapestries in sight. Even when you ask around, no one has any clue what you’re talking about and you know you’ve reached another dead end.   “What’s your plan now?” Yoongi asks.   “I don’t want the entire trip here to be a waste, so I’ll set up and sell some stuff.” You sigh. “Well, this place was a shot in the dark anyways. It was worth a try. At least I can cross it off my list. Anyway, give me an hour and I’ll be done. You can walk around or do whatever it is that you do.”   Yoongi nods. In the meanwhile, you pull out a rug from your bag and dump out golden chalices and wondrous items you’ve probably stolen, and begin advertising them at outrageous prices to creatures passing by. He lets you be as you’re happily scamming and walks off with a tiny smile.    “Excuse me,” he approaches a human Ranger standing by and the stranger lifts his head with suspicious eyes narrowed in on him. Yoongi had a few ideas on how to make his time worthwhile here too.   “Yes?”   “Do you know anything about the North Dragon?”   “The North Dragon?” The Ranger shakes his head. “Sorry. Don’t. But you can probably ask Raithe. He knows a thing or two about creatures around.”   The Ranger indicates a man in a black cloak sitting on a stool and staring at bystanders. Yoongi thanks him and approaches the so-called Raithe. “Excuse me.” The man looks up, revealing beady eyes and a long, red beard. “Do you know anything about the North Dragon?”   The corner of the man’s mouth curls. “Who may you be?”   “I’m a traveler on a quest,” Yoongi says vaguely, knowing better than to pass information about himself around or go into too much detail needlessly. Anyone could use anything against him.   Raithe hums. “I know that there’s a dragon in Stoughsby Peaks. That it’s fiercely loyal. But I’m afraid any more information will have to come at a price.”   He pulls out a gold coin from his pocket. “Will this be enough of a price?”   “That’s more like it, young man. Do you have a map?” The greedy man smiles, snatching the payment before Yoongi pulls out his crinkled map you always make fun of. Once spread, Raithe points to a patch of grass on it in the middle of the forest that’s between this place and Rutherglen. “Here. A wise wizard can tell you all that you seek to know about the North Dragon, but he is not easy to find and he doesn’t allow just any guests inside his home.”   “How do I find him then?”   “You keep walking.”   That’s all the man is willing to say and Yoongi keeps it in mind as he marks the map.   At the same time, you’re having much success with your business.   “Thanks for coming!” After getting rid of your chalices and your eyes of eagle, your sack of gold has become heavier and heavier in your pocket. You’ve managed to sell two of your stoppered bottles too, passing them on as potions of heroism when really it’s just been dyed blue and the bubbles are from the expired milk you had in them. “Get your potions of heroism! Get your potions!”   You can’t wait to see the look on Yoongi’s face when you brag about how much you’ve made.   “It’s a blessed spell! Gain more health before you go charging into battle! Great for adventurers and travelers who love exploring the region!”    Your eyes light when a creature comes up to your rug. He’s five feet eight with reddish skin and a purple head of hair. A sulfurous odor radiates from him, but you recognize the horns, prehensile tails, and pointed teeth for him being a Tiefling and his daggers for being a rogue.    “Hello sir, would you like one? It’s a rare potion you won’t find anywhere else! Take the chance while you still can!”   “How much?”   “Five gold pieces.”   You hold in your cackle when he passes the gold to you without even bargaining. But blood drains from your face when he flicks off the cork and prepares to chug it. “Wait! Are you going to take it right now?”   “If it’s good, I’ll buy the rest,” the Tiefling rogue states, solid orbs of silver for eyes looking back at you. And with that, he chugs it.   You hitch your breath. Your teeth grit.   After a moment, the Tiefling rogue spits the potion out. His expression twists into horror, another strange odor leaving his mouth that smells like rotten eggs left in the Summer sun.   “What is that?!”   “Uh….it’s…..it’s…...a potion….of heroism?”   He points at you, shouting, “Fraud!”   “I prefer Charlatan!” you scream and jump back before his dagger can hit you.   Across the market, Yoongi hears the commotion. There are creatures moving away and murmuring, not wanting to get involved, and his blood runs cold when he realizes you’re on the other side where the clamour is.    Immediately, he rushes through the crowd, but then his shoulder collides with another.   “Min Yoongi?”   A cold voice stops him.   “Yorril.” The slender Elf is the same height as Yoongi is, long blonde hair that’s half-tied up and reaches to his ribs. His piercing green eyes are set within their sockets, having seen his enemies coiling their bodies to his shoes. He has a dignified aura that’s unfriendly as always.   But Yoongi supposes that it’s only natural. The Belxiron faction has always had an air of superiority, especially over the Min faction and it has permanently been a source of strife.   “What a pleasant surprise,” Yorril utters in Elvish. “I thought you ran away like a coward.”   “Cowards are the ones who stand behind their family’s back to protect themselves,” Yoongi answers in a hiss. “If being a coward is making something out of yourself rather than taking the status given to you at birth, then you are worthless.”   The elf’s jaw clenches as he pulls his trident to his side. “Always so righteous, Min. Always have to have the last word. But it is time I give your mother a real reason to mourn—”   On the other side of the market, the Tiefling strikes you with his dagger against your left forearm. It’s enough to skim against your skin and leave a mark, but not enough to bleed.   You hold your orb within your hand and hurl three rays of fire towards him. The first one barely hits him when he dodges, but the second and third make him cry out in agony as he’s burnt.   “You bitch!”   “That’s rude!” You’re about to persuade him to give it up, but it’s useless when he runs towards you again with newfound wrath.   In the meanwhile, the Elf uses his trident and attacks, piercing Yoongi in his abdomen. The weapon digs into his leather clothing, never into his skin, but then light twirls through the trident and he feels as if lightning has shocked through his system.    Yorril smirks. Yoongi pulls out his rapier but misses when he swings. “Going down so easy, Min? I expected better from someone who ran off to become a knight for the Order of the Black Sun.”   Yoongi grits his teeth and swings again. This time, Yorril is pushed back, sliced in his shoulder and Yoongi surges forward once more. Then, he’s dashing to the other side of the market.   There’s a shout of his name behind him, but it doesn’t matter.   He breathes a sigh of relief when you come into view. Visibly intact and unharmed. “What happened?” Yoongi hyperventilates from running, eyes wide and searching your face.   You muster a smile, afraid of his scolding. “Just...you know….the usual workplace risks.”   The Tiefling shouts and runs forth with his dagger. He manages to nick your dress and collarbone with his blade this time, making you hiss out as blood soaks through. Yoongi retaliates in an instant, swinging at him with his rapier and he stumbles back.   “Min!” There’s a shout of his name and the angered Elf comes out of the crowd silently observing and gasping. “I’m not done with you!”   Your back presses against Yoongi’s as you both hold onto your weapons. “You know this guy?!”   “He’s an enemy of my family,” he murmurs as he faces the Tiefling rogue and you face the Elf.   “What kind of family do you have?!” You throw an evocation spell forward and a line of roaring flames thirty feet long and five feet wide emanates from you towards the stranger. The crowd disperses quickly, shuffling back before they’re hit by the fire.   Unfortunately, the Elf is dexterous and manages to move back, only getting hit by half of the fire.   “It’s complicated,” Yoongi says.   “Get out of the way,” Yorril grunts in Elvish and attacks you with his trident, charging forth to spear you. He hits against the arm you bring out to shield your face away and as it digs into your flesh before you force it away.   Yoongi hears your cry and turns around to strike him.   At the same time, the Tiefling rogue fails to drive his dagger into Yoongi’s stomach.   Your grasps tighten on your orb and you lob three more scorching rays of fire in your hands towards your enemies. One of them hits the Tiefling and he yells in pain before falling over, unconscious. Two of them are fired towards the Elf, one that misses and the other that gets him straight in his face.   He’s burnt, not too badly that he’s become disfigured but enough that it hurts.   “Damn you, whore! Stay where you belong!” Yorril swings at you, piercing you in your stomach and leaving a bleeding gash in its place that you press with your other hand to keep blood from pouring.   “It’s going to have to take more than that,” you wheeze in Elvish to him and it serves to aggravate him further.   Yoongi is horrified, paler than he was before and he shouts deep from his lungs. He swings at Yorril, slicing him in his back and your arm lifts. A blinding streak flares from your pointing finger and blossoms with a low roar into an explosion of flame. The Elf’s eyes are rounded in terror and he howls from deep in his stomach as he’s burnt. The fire spreads through the room, igniting the wooden stalls and rugs.   Brought to his knees, Yoongi slices Yorril once more with his rapier.   The Elf uses the remainder of his strength to hit Yoongi once more and manages to scrape at his knees before Yoongi strikes twice and the latter male falls over, also unconscious.   It goes silent except for the sound of the two of you catching your breaths.   Then you and Yoongi turn to each other.   Compared to Yoongi who’s still firmly on his feet, you’re worse for wear. You’re bleeding in numerous places, nicked at your jaw and neck. But the corners of your mouth curls and you slowly reach into your pocket. You hold out a heavy sack of gold, one that isn’t your own. “L-Look what I got.” Your eyes flicker to the unconscious Tiefling who’ll eventually wake up wounded and broke.   Yoongi scoffs with a tiny smile. “This is why so many people want to kill you.”   “You have your fair share of enemies too, evidently,” you breathe out. “And it’s not so easy for me to die, y’know.”   He comes over to shoulder you, all traces of mischief gone. “Are you okay?”   “Of course I’m okay.” You muster a tender yet tired smile, leaning your weight on him. “It’s no big deal. Don’t you know….who I….am?”   But then your eyes begin to droop and Yoongi opens his arms, catching your slumping body. You’re snoring, exhausted from the fight and he puts you on his back, a tiny smile etched on his features.   There’s chaos around you both, people returning to their stalls to see that it’s been burnt down to a crisp and wailing at the loss, other sly creatures trying to steal what they can in the chaotic situation and others that return to their stations like nothing happened at all.   A fight in Bogsburrough might not be uncommon, but Yoongi doesn’t dwell.   He carries you and the two of you fade away as quick as you came, continuing on your journey.   //   After being bandaged, taking a long rest and downing a bunch of healing potions, you’re back in tip-top shape again. Your initial plan was to just have Yoongi protect you until you made it to Bogsburrough — a plan you never told him about — but with no other idea of what to do or where to go next, you find yourself continuing with him on his quest.    Why not, right?   If he defeats that dragon, you can reap the benefits and get that amazing reward. It’s certainly better than wandering on your own and having nothing to do. There’s no other reason than that.    No other reason………………………...   “So we’re supposed to just...keep walking?” you ask skeptically after wandering aimlessly for what seems to be an hour around this meadow.   “That’s what he said.”   “What if this is a trap.”   “Then we’ll grab our weapons. But I don’t think it is.”   It’s only fair that after Yoongi took your detour, you take his. But you’re unsure what this nonsense about a wizard is. There’s nothing here, but grass and flowers—   Your forehead smacks into a wall.   You stumble back, rubbing at the area while cursing. But there’s nothing there. Your brows furrow along with Yoongi’s and you put your hand out, feeling the invisible barrier placed there.   “It’s a wall of force!” You grin, excited that your efforts weren’t wasted after all.   “How do we get rid of it?”   “We blast it!” Before he can protest and get some time to think things through, you grab your orb that allows you to channel your power and you hurl a fireball at it. The flames howl, blossoming an explosion and slamming into the barrier.   The barrier ripples, revealing its spherical shape — but it doesn’t shatter or open a hole.   You huff out in frustration.   Yoongi steps forward. “Wait.”   But you throw another fireball at it, fiercer and with more vigor. This time, it works and the barrier splits with a tiny opening, enough for you and Yoongi to push yourselves through.   You grin at his bewildered expression. Of course he should be impressed with your abilities. You might not be as capable or strong as he is, but your magic often comes in handy like now. “It’s sorcerer magic.”   “Yeah, well, I think we’ve already long established you aren’t a normal peasant girl.”   “Nope. I’m not.”   There’s a house in the middle of the meadow, placed on a tiny hill — one that was not visible outside of the invisible wall of force. Built with white stones and an oak roof with a chimney on the side, it stands tall in a fairly symmetrical pattern. The windows are large and it looks like the manor has several floors. More importantly, you swear you see the curtains shift on the left.   The two of you step up on the wooden porch, facing the mahogany double doors.   “Do we just….knock?”   “I guess.” Yoongi’s fist raps against the surface while you brace yourself for an attack.    No one who wants to hide warmly welcomes unexpected guests.    Inside, in a dusty library, the male who’s levitating abruptly shuts his book at the sound. The cover is bright green, labeled ‘Halfling Histories’ and it slides back onto the empty slot of a nearby bookshelf as his small feet touch the ground once more. The sound of scattering toes on floorboards echo as he sprints to the front door.   The door swings open.   You hitch your breath, but an onslaught of offensive spells never happens.   Instead, you see nothing. Not until you and Yoongi collectively drop your heads to discover a three feet tall Halfling in a silk, blue robe with rounded glasses perched on his nose. He is reminiscent of a child with his full, rosy cheeks, brightened eyes and stubby stature.    The Halfling gives a dimpled smile and widens the door.   “Welcome! Oh my goodness, I haven’t had guests in so long! Come in, come in!”   The pair of you exchange expressions before stepping inside. The interior instantly takes your breath — cozy mahogany and high ceilings, mementos on a shelf near the winding staircase with a magical pull to them. The owner of this house has made it their own. You can tell each object carries its own meaning and memory, not merely for decoration or the purpose of luxury.   You gander around wordlessly.    Whoever this wizard is, he’s literally living your dream.    Out in the middle of nowhere. A place of his own. Hidden from the rest of humanity. It’s your aspiration in the flesh.   “My name is Namjoon,” the Halfling says as his dimples crease deeper, “and I am a servant to the lord of the house. May I ask who has entered the home?”   “I am Min Yoongi, in search of a Great wizard said to have lived here.”   “Ah, it is very nice to meet you. I’m afraid the lord is asleep upstairs. He doesn’t like to be awoken, so I fear it may be several hours until he can entertain you,” he informs and you look at Yoongi with uncertainty. The Halfling follows your movement and smiles. “And may I ask who you are, milady?”   “I am merely a servant girl accompanying this man as a way to repay a favour.” You lower your head, never once stating your own name.   “I see.” Namjoon smiles. “Can I ask for what reason you’re searching for my lord?”   “There’s just something we want to ask,” you say quickly, stepping forward before Yoongi can spill the whole truth. “It’s about a magical item. One we’re willing to sell to him.”   Namjoon hums. “Alright. I’ll let my lord know as soon as he wakes up. Would any of you care for tea? I have the best honey and sugar available!”   But suddenly, Yoongi feels a heavy weight on his mind. It’s a presence pressing on his brain, probing deep and whispering around the caverns of his skull for permission to be let inside. He grips his temples with a groan and you turn to him.   “Is everything okay?”   Yoongi looks at you and the way your brows scrunch together. But doesn’t answer. He tries to fight it off.    And he fails.   Yoongi feels his thoughts being pulled, untangled, exploited and read.   “Y/N—”   The corner of the Namjoon’s mouth curls in genuine amusement. He looks between you and Yoongi curiously as if he knows something you don’t. Then your neck whips to the side, catching him staring at you with that smile like he knows who you are.   Before you can ask him what he just did, Namjoon opens his palm. In one split second, the wooden staff you didn’t notice leaning against the grandfather clock flies into his hands. The surrounding flames are snuffed out, drawing the three of you into darkness except for the dim evening light piercing through the glass windows. Your shadows lay across the walls.   Namjoon looks at Yoongi and an overwhelming gust of wind pulls him back.   Yoongi shouts his name, but it’s choked inside his throat. Namjoon’s casted hold person, causing him to be frozen, paralyzed against the wall.   “Yoongi!” Your eyes are wide, connected with his. You rush over, but the path is interrupted by a growing low noise and three glowing darts that strike you at once. They pummel into your body before dispersing as quick as they appeared. A kind of agony immediately shoots up your spine and causes a cry to tear from your throat.   You turn yourself to Namjoon — the wizard you’ve been searching for.   “What do you want from us?!”   “The truth,” the halfling utters while you grip your glass orb in your hand that swirls colours of red and orange. From nothing but the magic that runs through your blood, you conjure three rays of fire and hurl them at him. One misses, but the other two burns him enough to hear his sharp inhale.   Namjoon raises his arms, his curled staff lifted with the motion and you feel a necromantic energy washes over you. The spell he casts drains moisture from you, making your skin dry, your lips chapped, your lungs shrivel. You double over, wheezing as your throat becomes parched. But it’s far from over.   You shout from deep within your stomach, hearing the strained call of your name behind you from your companion and a bright flash streaks from your finger, blossoming in a rumble of fire.   But Namjoon counterspells it without even blinking. He snuffs out the flames before it can reach him.   His feet shift and a blast of cold air erupts from his hands. It coils towards you, itching towards your body before enveloping you in frost. It nips against your skin, cracking your lips further.   This is it. This is how you die. You’ve always envisioned succumbing to fire, brought down by the power inside of yourself — the greatest devastation and irony of all. You never imagined yourself to fall in the home of an unknown wizard for unknown reasons….   But as you turn your head to gaze at Yoongi once more, your eyes meeting his tender ones full of unadulterated fear and anguish, there’s a surge from within. It screams, causing you to stand straighter, for your feet to root into the floorboards. It’s instincts —   And it tells you that you can’t leave him behind.   Instantaneously, a fire from within you blazes. A blinding light slices through the room as you’re magically wreathed in swirling flames. It’s overwhelming, pouring from the tips of your fingers and toes, seeping out of your pores without control. A grating orange and flaring crimson. It’s ugly, the way your eyes glow like hot coals, how you feel like your skin is melting off your bones.   The fire from within your blood is restless. Vengeful.   You can’t see the way Yoongi forces himself to look at you past the bright flare — you don’t know he’s in awe, that he finds it absolutely magnificent.    Before you can barrel forward, the Hafling drops his staff.   His hands lift, surrendering, as a dimpled grin spreads into his cheeks.   “I knew it! I knew it! You’re a phoenix sorcerer!”   Somewhere in Yoongi’s mind, those words are familiar. He’s read them somewhere before. But the details are murky. He isn’t sure. He simply knows there’s one infamous phoenix sorcerer family in existence.   The fire disperses as Yoongi’s let go from his binds, no longer pinned to the wall.   “You….” You’re panting, out of your mind. “You did all that to prove a theory?!”    “Well, I had a feeling you wouldn’t be honest with me if I asked.”   “You fucking crazy bastard!”   Namjoon laughs and then suddenly lowers himself to one knee, height no higher than your own knee. He blinks up at you with his brightened irises. “Will you marry me, Miss? Our powers combined would make for the best offsprings.”   Your eye twitches. “You’re a piece of shit.”   //   The library is old and dusty, but the winding bookcases that reach the ceiling tells him there’s an endless amount of knowledge stowed away between these pages of parchment. It is larger than any library he has known at home in his faction or in the castles he’s been stationed at. These books radiate types of magic, each enchanted with different spells he will never know the names of.   Seated at the round table, his trance is shattered without warning when there’s the ear-piercing noise of a stool scraping against the floorboard. If Yoongi didn’t know any better, he would think it was his imagination but then the short Hafling hops up on the stool to be seen and spreads the map across the wooden surface.   “You wanted to know about the Dragon of the North, yes?”   Yoongi nods in silence and he studies the map. Never has he seen something so extensive and detailed, all towns and rivers labeled with different kinds of terrain shown on the parchment. There are numerous roads winding on the paper, a scale for size he has no doubt is accurate.   “Can I copy this map?”   “You can just take it.” Namjoon grins. “I have plenty, don’t worry. I have some ancient dragon books too if you’d like.”   Yoongi nods again and the Hafling bounces off his stool and tottles over to one of his bookcases. He climbs the wooden ladder but when that can’t even grab the spine of the large book he’s reaching for, he whirls his finger and it slides out for him, swooping onto the table.    There’s a pile of dust that flies when Yoongi opens it, but he brushes it away and tries to read about the myths spoken about the North Dragon and Stoughsby Peaks.   “It seems like this dragon isn’t as dangerous as it seems,” Namjoon comments as he pushes up his circular spectacles. “And it’s been hidden for quite a while.”   “It kidnapped a girl.” Yoongi places the book down, telling him in case he can offer anything insightful. “We’re on a quest to bring her back at any costs.”   But Namjoon merely hums and his eyes twinkle. “Maybe it did it for a reason.”   In spite of this place behind a holder of knowledge, there isn’t much on the North Dragon aside from folktales and rumours of travelers who witnessed the creature and survived the encounter. But Yoongi makes sure to read every word, knowing that anything could be helpful.    Though after a while, the sentences dull and Yoongi finds himself curious about something else.   “Do you possibly have any books on phoenixes?”   The Halfling wizard smiles. “I’ll happily lend you some. Perhaps one specifically on magic, human and phoenixes?”   //   You’re taking a long rest in one of the countless bedrooms when Yoongi enters.   But despite how soft the mattress is and how warm the sheets are, different from the many nights spent on the forest floor or in dodgy inns, you aren’t comfortable in the least bit.   “We need to get the fuck out of here, Yoongi,” you say immediately when the door opens and it’s duckling hair that you see. “I need to get out of here. He’s psychotic.”   He smiles gently and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, allowing it to dip underneath his weight. “We’ll leave when you can stand up again.”   “You can just carry me.”   “And risk breaking my back? I almost did last time and you still owe me.”   You pout, knowing full well he’s exaggerating. “I’m not that heavy.”   It goes quiet for a moment as if he has something to say and doesn’t know how to broach the topic which is unlike him. “Hey, Y/N.”   “What? And ew, don’t call me like that.” Your nose scrunches, making fun of him to lighten the mood he’s created.   Yoongi grins. “Like what?”   “Like I’m dying. Y/N,” you lovingly whisper, mocking him and causing him to scoff lightly. “Makes me feel like I’m your bedridden wife.”   “Well, at the rate we’re going at,” he mutters and you’re not sure what he means — if you’ll end up bedridden or his wife or both. But you can’t dwell on it when he continues, “I never finished telling you about my family.”   “Oh yeah.” You lean back against the headboard. “And that guy who wanted to kill us at the market?”   Yoongi nods. “I’m the youngest son of the Min house, a faction in Srinas.” It’s the capital of Pegan, the largest country bordering this one. “The region is broken up into factions and a house owns each of them.”   “And I’m guessing that Elf was from another faction?”   He nods again. “I didn’t expect to see him there.”   “Why did he want to fight you?”   “Our houses are enemies,” he explains with a sigh. “No matter where I go, as long as I’m a Min, there will be preexisting enemies. The factions are different from how you’d imagine them.”   It’s interesting, intriguing to hear. You aren’t someone who cares about the troubles of another, but you’ve traveled with Yoongi for so long that a part of you has always longed to know more about him, about his background, where he came from, what led him here. “What do you mean?”   “There was constant backstabbing and betrayal. Your friend one day would be your enemy the next. Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” Yoongi brushes it off with a stoic expression. “I got tired one day and decided to leave.”   You know he left to join the Order of the Black Sun where he trained to become a knight. “And you haven’t looked back since,” you finish.    The silence confirms your guess.   It feels like you’re filling in the gaps of your knowledge about Yoongi, that you’re finally coming to understand the man in front of you. But you wonder why he’s telling you when he’s been so private. Why he’s voluntary letting you in his secrets without you needing to pry or whine. Perhaps he wants to know about you, but is taking the first step for you to know him.    So you indulge him, taking the initiative of what you assume he’s seeking without him needing to ask. “Mine’s not any different. Well, less….backstabbing, but it’s true. I’m a phoenix sorcerer and so is the rest of my family.”   You trust him. You trust Min Yoongi.   “My great, great grandfather saved a phoenix and a shard of its power runs through my bloodline. My power draws from an immortal flame.” It’s a mixed blessing. Like the creature indebted to your ancestor, you can conjure its fiery energy and be able to cheat death itself.    But it comes at a cost.   The fire within you bristles. Always demanding to be unleashed. You find yourself thoughtlessly feeding fires, hearing them call out to you, being unable to bear them sputtering out.   You uncurl your fingers and a flame ignites in your palm. Yoongi watches it dance then his eyes flicker to your face, soaking it how the fire glows against your cheeks, warming your features.    “People like me make others nervous. Our magic is volatile. It can be dangerous and we have a reputation for reckless behaviour. The stereotype isn’t untrue though. Most phoenix sorcerers think the essence of the phoenix can save them, but we aren’t necessarily protected from fire. We’re as vulnerable as the next creature, the next human. All we can really do is use our powers to pull ourselves from the brink of death. But most often than not, the reliance on our destructive magic is what put us there in the first place.”   You shut your eyes. The fire smothers out.   “My family has tried their hardest to remove themselves from such labels and molds. Each generation is put through strict teaching and training since the moment each person is born. But my family still think of themselves as superior. They were suffocating.”   Yoongi connects the dots. “So you left.”   “It wasn’t a life that I wanted to lead, so three years ago, I learned how to forge fake documentation and I ran away.” For the longest time, your greatest fear was being deported. It was being brought back to that house that was more concerned about status and upholding the bloodline than your own wishes. Where your freedom was suppressed.   You release your breath. The corner of your mouth pulls.   “I’m sure if you turned me into officials, you’d get yourself a handsome reward, Yoongi.”   Yet, Yoongi doesn’t give into your banter or playfulness. He remains solemn and sincere. “I have no plans in doing so.”   The two of you gaze at one another.   He doesn’t seem affected whatsoever by this new information, about the secrets you’ve held close to yourself. The both of you come from rich and dark histories, but you’ve never encountered someone who wasn’t at least a bit surprised.   But the way he looks at you is familiar. As if you don’t scare him.   “Get some rest, Y/N,” he says as he finally stands, turning towards the door.   “Yoongi,” you call his name tenderly before he can leave. The man pauses and your teary eyes trace his backside. “Thank you.”   //   The second you feel well enough, you get the fuck away from Namjoon. You sprint faster than you ever did before. He waves goodbye enthusiastically, saying that the offer of marriage still stands indefinitely — clearly, the Halfling wizard finds you sorcery magic quite intriguing and even bombards you with questions until the last moment — but you don’t entertain him.    You run for the hills without looking back. And finally, the two of you make it to Rutherglen.   It’s built on the bottom of a snowy thicket with a woodland forest nearby, the terrain rocky presumably from the mountains seen vaguely through the clouds. The village itself is plain but humble. With its redwood rooftops and maple wood walls, Rutherglen carries an inviting atmosphere. Though right now, there seems to be a certain commotion, lanterns strung through shops, vibrant posters set against brick walls, children wearing masks running through the streets and other adults preparing stalls that line the streets.   “Is there something special going on today?”   “Why, tonight is the Festival of Champions!” A petite woman says as she passes by, holding a ribboned basket of bread and biscuits, and catching wind of your question to Yoongi. “You must be travelers! How exciting and great timing, really.”   “What’s the Festival of Champions?” Yoongi asks, having never heard of such a thing.   “A long time ago, a powerful demon was driven up from this town and now we celebrate that day that we freed! The festival only happens once a year and it’s spectacular, much needed as well considering how on edge everyone’s been from those rumours of a dragon up north.”   “What?”   “Anyhow, no time like the present to enjoy yourselves!” She grins. “Enjoy yourselves, travelers!”   With the short-sightedness of these villagers, it’s no wonder they run into predicaments like demons and dragons attacking them.   “I don’t think I can do it.” There are two young girls chatting on the street and as you pass, your ears perk, picking up their exchange. “What if he rejects me, Lirla?”   “He wouldn’t. You have to confess!” At that, you turn your head, watching as the girl in the plum dress grabs the hands of her friend with a brightened, innocent smile. “You’ve been waiting for this day for months and you know what they say, if you do it tonight during the fireworks, you’ll have luck on your side.”   “I don’t know…..”   Such fickle emotions such as love, nervousness in wanting to declare one’s feelings, uncertainty of how the other person will respond — you never got to experience such nonsense.    But you can’t help but feel envious of them. You were never allowed to have such freedoms such as love.   Yoongi shifts, having overheard the conversation as well and noticing how silent you suddenly are. “Y/N?”   “Hmm?” You turn to look at him, but in doing so, your focus gets captured elsewhere. “Yoongi!”   It’s a red and white striped circus tent pitched in the town’s center. A six feet tall Fighter in a ripped tank top struts in a chalk ring while flexing his biceps and a Halfling wearing a top hat stands on a soap box. For being a fraction of a human’s normal size, his voice is deafening—   “Test your fortitude! Test your steel strength! Kourteous the Mighty challenges you to the Terror of the Rings! Best out of three clinches wins!”   “Yoongi, Yoongi! Go!” You push him forward with a ginormous grin.   His tender features twist is mortification. “What? You want me to fight him?!”   “All you have to do is push him out of that ring and we get prizes. C’mon! Don’t be scared!”   With one last shove, Yoongi stumbles forward and the Halfling grins. “Ah! Is there a new challenger?!” Yoongi turns around, glaring daggers into your soul and you give a sheepish smile.   The blonde knight sighs and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, sure, I guess.”   A crowd soon gathers to watch and Yoongi joins the circle, knees bent and hands open. Folks cheer on the Fighter and you suppose it’s fair considering Yoongi’s shorter stature and smaller body. No one expects him to win.   But you know him — you know he’s carried you on his back, that he’s fought countless creatures, that he’s protected you in several instances.   Yoongi is strong. Even when he doesn’t look like it.   “Round one!” The Halfling slams a wooden rod into a bell, making it ring loudly. “Fight!”   At once, the Fighter makes a big show. He flexes his muscles, brushes his feet against the dirt and shouts from within his belly.    It makes the crowd cheer.   The Fighter charges Yoongi, but he keeps a low stance and dodges easily. The taller male swoops past, nearly running out the chalk circle with his sheer speed, but stops right on his toes. It causes the whole pack of creatures around to gasp in delight, put in anticipation.   The Fighter turns around with a growl and runs to grab Yoongi. But this time as he swiftly ducks, Yoongi steals the opportunity and shoves the larger male out, centering his strength on the man’s abdomen.    The Halfling throws his arms out dramatically. “One to zero!”   They meet each other in the circle again and he switches to an offensive strategy. The Fighter is caught off guard with Yoongi’s strength with their hands meet each other and their arms strain, trying to push the other out.    Yoongi is the epitome of stability.   He pushes him and the Fighter stumbles out while trying to keep balance.   “Two to zero!”   It’s unexpected and the crowd is going absolutely crazy. They’re hooting and hollering like it’s the middle of a tavern on a drunken night of celebration, and you feel your chest blossom with pride. “I know him!” you shout above the uproar to the Elf next to you. “He’s my partner!”   During the last round, Yoongi obliterates it.    He wins so hard that the Fighter is stunned and the Halfling is speechless. “C-Congratulations!”   Immediately, you run to Yoongi. He catches you in his arms while your own loop around his neck. You giggle into his shoulders and he grins, squeezing you.   It’s a moment that you will come to cherish.   You end up asking if he can do another round once the Halfling gives you the prize money of seven silver pieces. But he nearly cries and begs you both to leave instead.   “I knew you could do it!” You’re tossing the sack of silver up and down in your hand, feeling its weight and listening to the clank as you do so. It’s technically Yoongi’s but he said you could have it and you didn’t hesitate to accept the gift.   “You pushed me in before you even understood what the game was.”   “But I believed in you anyway,” you laugh.   The both of you continue on your way while you’re humming with a light skip in your step. When you find Yoongi looking at you, you flash a bright grin at him and he scoffs. You’re starting to like this place. But you don’t make it far before something else captures your attention.   This time though, it’s not a circus game or creatures trying to sell you something.   You’re enraptured by a fifteen-foot statue of a woman unmarred by time. There are steady streams of seemingly clear water traveling down the woman’s eyes, but leaving no erosion there. But next to her are the shattered remains of another smaller stone statue. The feet of this smaller statue remains affixed to the ground while the rest are scattered around. It looks close enough that the body may have once held the woman’s outstretched hand.    You’re close enough that you can read the silver plate of the statue. It says ‘Missing Daughter’.   The statue reminds you of your mother — and you wonder passingly if any members of your family have tried employing others to find you, much like Yoongi has been sent to find Mina Stav. Or maybe they haven’t. Maybe they think your family thinks you’re dead...   “Y/N?”   “Hmm?” You turn away from the statue outside the sanctuary. “Where’s this person again?”   Half-across Rutherglen, you and Yoongi knock on a cottage door while unsure of yourselves. It's a single floor modest home, not at all extravagant like you expected it to be. Sorli Stav, the woman who commissioned you and Yoongi on this quest, reeked of wasteful luxury after all. You expect her sister to be the same or at least have some level of similarity.   “Are you sure this is her?”   “I’m sure,” he says in spite of his own skepticism.   The door opens a moment later and on the other side is a thin lady with long, stringy hair and a flowy skirt. “Hi, how can I help you? Are you the workers from Johnson? I told him I’d be right down for the festival. What an impatient man, he is. Really—”   “No, ma’am,” Yoongi politely interrupts. “Actually, we were told you could help us. Are you Ashal Stav?”   “I am.” Her sparse brows furrow. Then as if she suddenly recalls, her entire face lights up. “Are you those heroes looking to rescue my niece?! Come in, come in.”   You’re guided into the cluttered home with an open living space, a kitchen and dining room. It looks like there’s only three separate rooms after that. “I’m so sorry for the mess.”   “It’s quite alright,” you muster a smile as your eyes stray to the dirty stains on the wall by the bookshelf.   “Oh, I should’ve really cleaned better but the festival was here and I didn’t have much time.” The older woman is rushing about, collecting her clothes off the floor to throw into another corner and clearing the table of rotting food by pushing it aside. “My younger sister sent me a letter telling me you were coming. Although she informed me it would be a young fighter and a much...bigger barbarian.” She eyes you curiously like she didn’t expect a peasant girl.   You smile as your eyes glitter. “I replaced him due to some unforeseen circumstances.”   “Well, thank you for your service then.” She kicks some books on the ground underneath a table between the armchairs. “I really hope you can save my niece. Mina’s a wonderful girl really. A bit outspoken and stubborn, but very pleasant.”   “Actually, we were told you could help us,” Yoongi says. “You have information about this dragon?”   “Information, dear? No, no. I’m afraid I don’t know anything about the North dragon whatsoever. I only know you will be in grave, grave danger.”   The pair of you exchange expressions.   “You can feel free to stay here for as long as you’d like,” she huffs while catching her breath from the impromptu cleaning session. “I make one mean apple pie. You two look like you’re cold too! Rutherglen is practically winter all year round, so feel free to take any coats in the closet you’d like. And oh! Enjoy tonight’s festival as well!”   You and Yoongi don’t know what to say, simply holding in your groan. And when you come into the room she’s offered you, you find out that you’ll have to share a bed meant for one.   //   “That could’ve gone a lot better.”    You realize you should’ve bargained for a better reward. That woman prepared nothing for the two of you — there’s virtually nothing to go on, no help, no information. If not for Yoongi seeking out Namjoon, you wouldn’t even know how to get to that mountain. Still, it’s a death sentence.   But Yoongi merely hums, stoic and unaffected.   “So you’re really just going to march up that mountain?”   “I suppose,” he says.   You had no plans in fighting a dragon — you still don’t. But the thought of Yoongi going there alone while you wait here in this town makes you unsettled. Your stomach turns and you feel nauseous. In a split second, you can imagine him never returning. You can envision waiting for agonizing weeks until you venture up there yourself and die in the frozen wasteland before your body is covered in snow never to be found again or at the mercy of a dragon’s fire breath.   Either way, the outcome won’t be good for you or him.   “Yoongi—”   “Fire! Fire!”   There is pandemonium as people shriek, scrambling out of the Market District. Both of your heads lift, catching the rising smoke that curls in the sky and turns it gray. It’s growing fast and you exchange expressions before hurrying forward towards the inferno — Yoongi feeling an intrinsic need to investigate as an honourable knight and you with an inborn fascination for fire.   With what people are shouting as they pass, you learn it’s started from a cobbler shop that put too many cobblers in the oven at one time and forgot it was in there. And by the time you get close enough to see people running in with tiny wooden pails of water, you know it’s hopeless.   It’s already started to spread.   You quickly tug on Yoongi’s sleeve. “Hey…”   He looks at you and then follows your line of sight to the unattended market stalls filled with exotic items for sale. In one moment, he already knows you’re planning to satisfy the itch of your fingers. But before he can stop you and grab the back of your collar, you’ve already crouched down and slunk away from him.   “What do you think you’re doing exactly?”   There’s a sharp, husky voice and you peek over your shoulder, discovering Yoongi hunched down with you behind some wooden crates. The corner of your mouth curls at his frown.   “When life gives you chances, duckling, you have to take them. There’s nothing free in life. But there are opportunities, don’t you know?”   His brows lift. “You’re going to steal?”   “I’m going to pick up some abandoned items at a substantial discount,” you correct, “if you’re not going to help me, then get out of my way.”   Your eyes flicker in all directions. There are creatures gathered around the flames, trying to help. Once the coast is clear, you stealthily slink over to the stall.    Yoongi’s hot on your heel, hiding his smile of amusement. You don’t seem to know but his hands aren’t completely clean either. With life in a faction the way it was, he was forced to steal things numerous times. He’s just never taken from innocent folks out in the world before.   At the stand, your hand lifts and you swipe at a leather pouch. Peeking inside, you find five branded agates, colourful rocks that seem to be worth a good amount. You slip it into your bag.   Yoongi scoffs, watching you. “What do you even plan to do with these things?”   “I’ll sell it, obviously.”    Unfortunately, your whispering is loud enough to catch the attention of a woman nearby who spins around. Once she looks at the stand, the burly owner notices and looks. He steps aside and immediately sees you and Yoongi murmuring to one another while squatting next to his merchandise.    “Hey! What're you think you’re doing?!”   You gasp, eyes wide, and you stand. Yoongi is slower to your feet as he retains a calm disposition. You steal the chance at hand and point to your companion. “I’m stopping him from stealing!”   “What?” the man huffs, louder than the sputter of the fire meters away.   Yoongi’s brows raise, surprised at your betrayal before his expression morphs into a glare.    “I’m not,” he deadpans, calmer than ever before.   “You dare take from me?!”   “You’re mistaken and my friend here is only kidding. She has a terrible sense of humour, I apologize.”   In the meanwhile, your hand slips behind you. Your fingers find a cool, silver surface and you nab it. Your other hand also curls around a thin piece of glass that’s heavy in your grip. With your bag of holding shifted behind you, you easily slip the objects in.   The man is convinced with Yoongi’s composure, one that does not belong to a thief. “You better be kidding, boy! If I find anything missing, your head’s gonna be on the chopping block,” he grunts, turns away to address the urgent fire.   Yoongi releases his held breath and glares at you.    You sheepishly grin at him and the both of you walk away from the commotion.   “Thanks for that. You really saved me there.”   “I can’t believe you betrayed me without even needing to think about it.” His eyes narrow in on you. “But I’m not surprised.”   You pout and lean into him. Your arms wrap around his body. “Aw, Yoongi. I’ll split the gold with you, promise.”   He lightly scoffs and you laugh before taking a chance to look into your bag. Instantaneously, your eyes glitter when you discover it was a bottle of common wine and also a flash of alchemists’ fire, probably worth around fifty gold pieces.    Day by day, you’re getting you closer to your goal, your dream. Soon enough, you'll have a house in the middle of nowhere, much like that Halfling wizard’s. Yet somehow, the taste of victory doesn’t have as much of a glorious flavour as it used to.   Ever since you’ve seen your ambition in the flesh, the fantasy you dwelled on doesn’t seem to be as vibrant in your mind….   Yoongi abruptly halts on his heel and you turn to him, your own trance broken.   He glances over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you put out that fire?” he asks nonchalantly and your eyes sweep the chaos, soaking in the distress etched on the villager’s features. Yoongi steals a glance at you. “Taking is also about giving back, right?”   There is silence.   Then, a long sigh releases from your lungs. “I never took you to be so righteous, Min Yoongi.”   “I am an honourable knight.” He smirks. “I think you forget that sometimes.”   “If you were so honourable, you’d turn me in,” you quip.   “Let’s just say I’m more loyal than I am honourable.”   Smothering it out goes against your impulse for keeping flames alive. Like you’re suddenly writing with your other hand or clasping your hands and switching which thumb folds on top of the other. Yet you still grasp your magical orb that swirls red and orange and extinguish the inferno. You stand sixty feet away beside Yoongi, hidden in the shadows as you control the flames with the movement of your palm. It smothers within five feet in one direction and the creatures around cheer, assuming the water’s finally snuffed it out.    You repeat it twice more until the fire dies down enough to be stomped on.   “Feel good?” Yoongi asks, accidentally catching your tiny satisfied smile as you both walk away.   “Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s gonna take a lot more convincing for me to do charity work like that again, Yoongi.” You exhale and passingly tell him, “There’s a reason I’d rather be seen as a useless peasant girl. A lot of the time, folks would think fires like that are from people like me.”   “That’s impossible. There’s too many valuables. You’d rather take them than burn it down.”   You laugh, heart swelling.   //   The minute the sun sets over the horizon, the lanterns strung along stalls and the lights inside shops are ignited to illuminate the streets, and the humble town of Rutherglen truly comes alive.    In the town square, there are bards playing flutes and fiddles, lutes and mandolins. The folk music brightens the ambiance even more and children giggle and dance together while the elderly sit by with warm mugs of cider in their laps, clapping along. Other children are running around with paper masks, playing games and couples stroll the streets with one another.   It’s a beautiful, cozy atmosphere as snow sprinkles down from the sky in a gentle flurry. It collects on rooftops and crunches underneath your steps, glitters and shimmers against the warm glow of the lights. You aren’t cold at all, not with the emerald pea coat wrapped around your shoulders. Yoongi’s in a coat too, leather and long to his knees. He would look like a mercenary, if not for his rosy cheeks and tender features that says otherwise.   “Why are you looking at me like that?”   “No reason.” You tear your eyes away, a smile still plastered across your face.   You’re glad that you came here. Opportunity like this doesn’t happen often. Having the company of someone you find pleasant doesn’t happen either.   “Oh, oh! Look, Yoongi!” Immediately, you drag him over by his sleeve.    Yoongi knows better than to resist your whims, especially when you get excited. So he only feigns annoyance yet still follows you diligently. The two of you come to a booth with fishes swimming inside a rectangular pool of water. Kids are huddled together with buckets while the man behind the booth is loudly advertising people to come try their luck at goldfish scooping.   But even without the vendor, it’s a game you recognize well.   “Should we play?!” you ask, turning to Yoongi with glittering eyes.   “Where would we keep a goldfish?”   You deflate, disappointed, but you know he’s right. “Never mind. It’s okay. It’s just I used to play this a lot when I was a kid,” you reminisce, not sure when the last time you went to a festival was — though it might’ve been years ago when you were still a child with your family. “But I always broke the scoop before I could get one and my dad wouldn’t let me play more than once. Did you ever hear that rumour though? Some say the goldfish are actually polymored fair-goers who were caught cheating some of the other games.”   He grins. “Is that why you don’t cheat?”   “Hey, I have integrity too! Business and games are two separate things. I would never cheat during a festival or carnival.”   Yoongi scoffs lightly, but his eyes are still lit with mirth. “You always know how to twist your logic.”   It’s not long before another game interests you and Yoongi’s following you closely behind before you lose each other in the crowd.   It’s an archery competition where contestants are trying to shoot an apple off the head of a Gnome — a Gnome that was presumably forced to take on the role with the way his knees are shaking and he squeals every time someone new comes forth. The prize is an elemental gem, something you’re sure you can use to sell at a higher price.    “You know I’ve only been trained in swordsmanship, right?”   “Giving up already? That’s not the spirit.” You slap Yoongi on the back harshly despite his glare and you point at the frightened Gnome that looks like he’s about to sob. “Take your shot, duckling!”   Yoongi sighs, but raises the bow to eye level and draws it. The tip of his tongue peeks out as one eye flutters shut and he takes aim. Holding in his breath, he releases and the arrow flies.   The Gnome squeaks. Unfortunately, the arrow slams above the apple, off by a few inches.   “Better luck next time,” the girl managing the booth chimes.   You exhale in frustration and immediately toss a silver piece to the girl. You snatch the bow from Yoongi’s hands and snag another arrow from the basket. The Gnome’s eyes bulge as you aim for the in-between of his brows and before he can stutter out “W-W-Wait”, you’ve released.   There’s a sharp whistle. The arrow spirals. The Gnome ducks with a shriek and there’s a loud thunk! The apple’s pierced through it’s core, hitting the bullseye on the target behind.   “Amazing!” The girl blinks as she soaks in what transpired in a mere three seconds. But she gives you the prize as promised. “Here you go.”   You slip the shiny gem in your leather bag with a smile before turning to Yoongi and finding his surprised and impressed expression. “What? Let’s go.”   The next game you stop at is an arm wrestling contest. There are several beefy fighters and barbarians getting in a line to challenge one another at wooden tables and while it’s not something that particularly captures your attention, the prize makes you halt on your heels.   “Fight for love! The winner receives an uncommon potion! A philter of love!”   “Yoongi.” Your hand plops on his shoulder, making him stop. “Want to play?”   He looks at the horde of people and then back at you. “You want to verse me?”   You burst out laughing before it dies down and your expression washes over into impassivity. “I don’t think so. I don’t do arm wrestling contests. Ever.”   That seems to pique Yoongi’s curiosity and his brow cocks. “Why not?”   “I just don’t.” When it seems like that answer isn’t enough to satisfy him, you sigh and explain yourself further, “My older brother challenged me once and I lost so bad, I broke my wrist. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that the prize is a philter of love! Don’t you know what it means? A creature who drinks it becomes charmed by another creature they see for an hour and they regard them as their true love.”   “And you would need that because….”   “To sell obviously. Unless.” You come closer to him, closing the distance between your bodies and a sly, playful smirk comes across your face. One that Yoongi finds both unsettling and provoking to his emotions. “...Unless you want to become charmed by me.”   He scoffs. “I don’t think so.”   “Because you’re already charmed, right?” You wink at him and giggle when he merely turns away and joins the lineup to play.   Yoongi ends up annihilating his competitors as you expected. He wins three rounds consecutively without one loss within minutes and hands you the prize as you’re cheering him on. The fighters and barbarians around are absolutely speechless at how such a smaller looking man seemingly without muscles could be so strong and they even challenge him directly. Yoongi sticks around for two more matches, but when the crowd grows, he decides it’s time to leave.   They beg him to stay, but he doesn’t even look back.   “You could make a living doing that, you know.”   “Playing strength games at carnivals and circuses?” He laughs and you grin, bumping into him.   “You could get famous! Think about the notoriety. People coming from far lands to challenge you.”   “Fame’s never interested me,” he breathes out.   “Wow.” You roll your eyes at his righteousness and part of you wonders what it is he actually wants. Fame and gold doesn’t seem to affect him like it does to a normal man. “The Great Min Yoongi never gets greedy for anything, huh?”   “No,” he murmurs, eyes flickering to you. “There’s definitely some things I’m greedy about.”   Before you can ask what it is specifically, he walks ahead with his arms behind his back.    You quickly catch up to him and the following game that the both of you stop at is actually something that interests Yoongi. It’s a pick pocketing challenge. People are given bright pieces of cloth to be put on their belt or in their pocket — and the last one who still has it wins a grand prize.   “Ten gold pieces?” You sharply inhale, considering it. “That’s actually not bad.”   “Want to try then?” Yoongi grins and you smile at his unexpected enthusiasm.   “You really think you could beat me in this?”   He merely shrugs and the two of you step up to join the round that starts at the beginning of the hour. You’re given a bright scarlet cloth while Yoongi’s given a soft hue of baby yellow that you find all too fitting. There are about ten people within a fifty feet circle, all of different ages. You won’t aim for the young kids, that’s a given. While children shouldn’t be underestimated, it’s clear they’re playing for fun and their parents who joined are just trying to humour them.   Your eyes, however, pinpoint on the other participants — an elderly man, a teenage girl, a married couple and Yoongi.   The Dragonborn referee blows his whistle to signify the start of the game and immediately, the teenage girl is booking for you. You dodge out of the way easily, but when you try to snatch her own cloth from her pocket, she shifts back, out of reach. The two of you stare at one another and like having mutual respect and creating an alliance, you turn away and pick different targets.   The married couple is easy to eliminate. They don’t expect it when they’re too busy with one another and you sneak up to steal their strips of cloth. You’re surprised Yoongi’s made it as long as he has and when you turn around, you find he’s taken out the elderly man ruthlessly.   “Not too bad, Yoongi.”   The corner of his mouth curls. “You underestimate me too much sometimes, Y/N.”   “We’ll see about that.”   The both of you circle each other with hooded eyes and mischievous smiles. The tips of your fingers itch to unleash magic, but you hold it back to play fair and when Yoongi swiftly surges forward, you dodge enough to barely brush against him.   You turn around, gaze locking with Yoongi’s. He grins a gummy smile full of victory and holds up your red piece of cloth that you didn’t even know you lost like it’s a winning flag. But then your eyes glitter and an enormous smile plasters across your cheeks. Yoongi finds his pastel yellow cloth is twisted around your finger and his heavy sack of gold pieces is in your other hand.   “Player four and five eliminated!”   The teenage girl ends up winning after the children forget the rules and go running out of the circle, thereby being disqualified.   “Not bad, Yoongi,” you sing-song afterwards. “But I think it’s safe to say that I still win.”   “I let you win. I know you’d sulk all night if you didn’t because you’re a sore loser.”   “Am not!”   Yoongi laughs gleefully and you can’t even feign annoyance at his teasing. You muse that there are truly few opportunities like this — where you get to spend time with someone you like as much as you like Yoongi….   The two of you soon settle down after hearing that the fireworks are beginning. If possible, the streets go into a bigger frenzy, friends coming together and families meeting in ferment. You try to go to the center of it all to watch the show, but with the crowdedness, you and Yoongi nearly lose one another.   It’s not until he grabs a hold of your hand and suggests sitting somewhere farther away that you find yourselves on a hill not far from the commotion. It’s quieter, where the noises become a lull of background sounds and you can finally hear one another’s voices. You and Yoongi sit on a dry patch of grass, shoulders brushing while you gather your knees, keeping yourself warm.   It starts after a countdown.   Colours burst in the air, one after another. They’re vivid hues that are brightened against the darkened sky, blossoming into all sorts of patterns and reflected in your irises. Some whirl into spirals, tumble in a shower and others shatter into sparks. Your breath is stolen, put into awe.   The scent of gunpowder and smokiness to the air makes the magic inside you tingle.   “Do you still want to live by yourself?” Above the bang of the fireworks is Yoongi’s husky voice. You turn to him, eyes soaking in the profile of his face illuminated by the lights. “Don’t you think you’ll be lonely living in isolation where no one can find you?”   “I never thought I would.”   You know it’s a childish dream. You came up with it as an adolescent when you were upset with your parents and you stuck with it until now. You envisioned it in moments of defiance and frustration. You held onto it with a vice-like grip. It was your anchor. Your buoy.   But you’ve been free for a long time.   Ever since you left that night with your forged documents, left behind a single note and fled without looking back, you’ve had freedom in your grasps. Now all that was left in your plan is to be kept away from the world, from any human or creature….   But as you look at Yoongi, an uneasy emotion overcomes you.   Maybe you will be lonely. Maybe the illusion is better than the reality.   You’ve always wanted a home for yourself, but a place where there isn’t anyone like Yoongi by your side feels lonely.   “I’ll make an exception,” you tell him and he turns to you, eyes locking with yours. Your mouth pulls into a smile. “You can come visit me, Yoongi. Whenever you like. It’s a one of a kind invitation.”   His lips twitch, and then they spread into a gummy grin. Yoongi’s eyes crinkle slightly, but it’s not a sight you get to savour for long when he turns away to keep watching the fireworks.    “Since we’re all getting it out in the open, can I ask why you keep calling me duckling?”   “It’s the hair.” You observe the horizon and the burst of red that comes across the darkness before more sparks spiral upwards and explode. “It’s pale yellow like a baby duck.”   You don’t notice the way Yoongi pinches the strands of his bangs. Or the way his eyes flickers up to try to see what you’re talking about. He’s never really thought about the actual shade of before — it’s always just been hair to him. It’s been the same as birth, the same as his mother’s.   And while the effort to analyze the strands are futile in this darkness and he gives up, a tender smile comes across his features.   Tomorrow, if all things go well, the two of you will finish your quest. The end is coming soon. Quicker than you’ve had a chance to realize. But you suppose that’s what time is. Fleeting.   “I’ll miss you, Yoongi,” you murmur so softly that you’re not sure if he can hear you.   But then you feel his gaze on the profile of your face and he says, “We still have to go back together. That’ll take a good week or two and even then….I don’t think I have any plans of returning to the Order.”   You’re surprised, neck whipping to the side as you look at him. “Where are you going to go?”   Yoongi shrugs nonchalantly. “I feel like I’ve spent enough time there. It’s why I took on this quest in the first place and agreed to do the favour for my mentor. I was trying to take the next step in my life.”   The next step in life.   You hum, looking at the night sky and the smoke that curls in it after the fireworks have fallen. “I’m envious….”   “You don’t have to be,” he says automatically.   Your gazes connect with Yoongi’s. “What do you mean?”   “You could do it too.”   “What would I do?” you ask, uncertain if this is an invitation to come with him, to continue your journeys together after all this is over. But Yoongi isn’t a straightforward man — that much you know. He’s blunt, though never honest with his feelings out loud. Yet in this moment, as the vivid lights are still bursting through the horizon and your eyes have met one another’s, you think you know what he means.   “Anything you want,” Yoongi murmurs in a low voice and you swear his eyes flicker to your lips.   You swallow hard and hold your breath. But as nervous as you feel, anticipation bubbles in the pit of your stomach and you lean forward, eyes fluttering shut. You feel his breath skim against your skin, warmth rising to your face and heating your cheeks like a furnace. You don’t know that Yoongi’s eyes are half-lidded, staring at your lashes as he tilts his head at a better angle.   Your foreheads nearly graze. Your mouths are a millimeter away—   “I like you!”   Both you and Yoongi jolt in your spots and your eyes open in an instant. Yoongi moves away and you turn your heads at the noise, on alert. There’s a teenage couple a few feet away by some trees and they don’t see you and Yoongi sitting together on the hill.   “Really?” the boy gives an awkward and nervous laugh.   At the same time, Yoongi releases a sigh and looks at you with a soft smile. “We should get back. There’s a long trip in store for tomorrow.”   “Y-Yeah.” You nod, getting on your feet and rushing away to try to dispel the magic spell Yoongi’s put on you that’s made your cheeks this warm.    You never notice the tender smile on his face as he stares at your backside.   //   The two of you set off an hour after the first blush before you can change your mind about coming with Yoongi. While you had planned to stay back, you can’t bear the thought of him not returning and knowing that you could’ve been there. Yoongi’s worth any kind of danger.   But it’s not like you’ll ever admit that out loud.   Your pride is too much and your fear of his impassivity to your emotions is overwhelming. Neither of you speak about last night’s affair either. How the distance was almost closed, how your lips almost touched his — maybe Yoongi changed his mind, but when he doesn’t talk about it, you don’t bring it up either.   So you both trek up the mountain in brooding silence, also sore from poor sleep. You shared the same room and bed, but peaceful slumber was far out of reach. Yoongi hogged the blanket and apparently you snored too loudly, making him beat you with his pillow several times through the night which woke you up and made you cuss at him. It didn’t help that the woman, Ashal, also barged in during the middle of the night to give you healing potions. She was the least helpful person on your journey so far and you’re glad to get away from her while you could.   “How much longer?”   “An hour. Or two.”   Yoongi twists the map around and you sigh, allowing the flame in your palm to grow and flicker. One glance at your companion and you notice the way his hands are shaking as he holds the parchment. “Aren’t you cold?”   “Not particularly,” he mumbles.   But you pull him in anyhow, looping your arm through his and holding the fire in front of both your faces. “I’m not going to save you if you freeze to death.”   The corner of Yoongi’s mouth curls. “Good to know. Are you hungry? We can take a short rest if you are or if you’re tired.”   “I’m fine. The faster we move, the quicker we get there, right? Or are we lost?”   “Stoughsby Peaks is over there.” He points and beyond clouds, you can see the imposing silhouette. What was a tiny shape back in the village has now taken up the entire horizon. “I know where we’re going.”   “Uh-huh.”   Yoongi folds up the map, places it into his pocket and buries his hands deep, finally getting them warm. You don’t miss the way he leans into your frame as well, how he comes closer to the fire dancing in your palm and you keep the flame strong so there’s some sort of heat.   You wouldn’t say it — but you’re happy to keep him warm.   “Are you not coming with me into the cave?” he asks, a cloud of air emitted from his mouth as he does so.   “I’ll support you from outside.”   “Are you scared?” his brow raises, finding such a thought surprising since it’s rather uncharacteristic of you to be.   “It’s not that. It’s….” Your voice grows quieter as your eyes narrow into this distance. Yoongi’s staring at you, but when you nudge his arm, he follows your line of vision. “Yoongi….what is that?”   There’s a rising shadow, an outline of a ginormous centipede but with wings, and it’s coming closer. Slowly and carefully, Yoongi pulls his rapier from his sheath while you take your orb out of your satchel. The two of you hold your breaths in your nose and your other hand comes to tug on Yoongi’s sleeve.    As the seconds pass, you’re finally able to discern what’s approaching — a monster that’s forty feet, scaly body with horns and an insect-like head. It’s ice-blue in colour with a dozen legs, and its back glows red with an inner fire.   “Oh fuck...oh fuck.”    Both you and Yoongi scramble back but it’s too late. The monster had picked up your scents the moment you stepped onto its territory.    “It’s a Remorhaz!” A monstrous beast resembling a cross between a worm and a centipede that thrives in cold environments. You’ve learnt about it back in your schooling days and learnt that it’s to be avoided, that the monster is worse than death itself.   The two of you start running, though the effort is futile when you hear it shriek behind you and start chasing at an impeccable speed.    You shut your eyes and channel your magic. Without hesitation, your hand slips downwards to Yoongi’s. He turns his head to you. You cast your spell and shove him away from you.   “Y/N!” Yoongi’s eyes are wide and then he fades away into the snow. Gone from your sights.   Yoongi looks down at himself to find that his entire body, clothing and weapons are translucent. You’ve casted an invisibility spell on him and with that fact known, he grips his sword and runs forward towards the monster. He strikes it on the back, surging forward to dig his blade in and the monster shrieks.   It twists and turns. But it finds nothing in its sights.   Yoongi holds in his sharp inhale. The Remorhaz’s body is hot as if it’s oozing of fire from within and feels himself burning when he comes close.   “This is why I don’t want to fight a dragon,” you spit, terrified when the fire-resistant monster coils around to approach you. “Most of my magic is fire based!”   You run again, but turn around to cast lightning bolt. It’s one of the few offensive spells you know the monster isn’t immune against. And a stroke of lightning forming a line a hundred feet long and five feet wide blasts towards it. The monstrous beast howls in agony and anger.    At the same time, Yoongi strikes his sword twice on the Remorhaz from behind. It confuses the creature even further.   Before terror can render you frozen, your palm thrusts out. A hundred twenty feet away towards the East, you stitch together an illusion. An image of another forty feet Remorhaz twitching. It seems completely real, including sounds and smells. A picture of your new worst nightmare.   The real creature contorts its head around to look, ducking and dipping, unable to discern that it's fake. The Remorhaz’s attention is completely stolen, taken away from you. And it instantaneously dives towards it while you take a temporary sigh of relief. You’re thankful you’ve always liked illusion magic more than the fire magic and spells your family taught you.   In the meanwhile, Yoongi takes the opportunity to strike it twice more, running his blade along its scaling back, making it move away faster in a frenzy. You cast lightning bolt once more, stealing the chance while you still have it.   The creature is getting weaker. You can tell with the way it slows and slumps. But the distraction doesn’t last long. When the monster bites through the illusion and completely passes through, it turns around, bulged white eyes directed right at you.   “Yoongi….Yoongi….!”   He chases after it and throws one of his daggers with as much strength he can muster. The blade lodges into its back and the Remorhaz shrieks yet again. Unfortunately for you, you’re too slow. Your feet slide from the slickness of the ground and you fall on your back into the snow.   The Remorhaz’s jagged teeth split.   Its head snaps down to bite.   You scream bloody murder.   “Yoongi!”   There’s a sudden pained shriek — it’s ear-piercing, making your ears buzz. And you open your eyes to see the monster’s bulging ones a few inches away. It’s frozen. And you scramble back in a whimper as it falls. Colliding to the ground. Lifeless.   Yoongi’s finally visible again once your concentration has shattered. And he’s standing at the back of the Remorhaz’s neck, pulling out his rapier from the soft spot. He dives into the snow immediately to cool off his body. “Fucking hell. That….that was something alright...”   You’re gasping for air, hand over your heart that’s about to give out.   “Are you okay?” he asks and when you don’t respond, Yoongi stands. He dusts himself off and comes over.   “I...I’m fine.” You take his outstretched hand and get back onto your feet. “I...I think I might need that short rest though.”   “Okay. We can do that.”   You’re reeling and your eyes peel away from the dead monster to Yoongi’s. “You...saved my life.”   “This isn’t the first time, you know,” he says with a tender smile as if he’s willing to do it a hundred more times. Yoongi’s hand pats your head affectionately as he passes by you.   You snap out of it quickly and join his side, getting the hell away from the large corpse as fast as your feet can take you.    Yoongi doesn’t ask why you decided to save him first, why you used your invisibility spell on him and not yourself. With the way you’ve been looking at him when you think he’s not looking, he already has an inkling of the reasons. And he smiles to himself, merely glad the feelings are mutual.   “W-We’re going to need a plan to fight that dragon.”   “We’re? You’re coming with me?”   “I think I owe it to you after that. At least to help in any way I can.”   The tiny smile he’s been repressing stretches into a gummy grin.   //   Stoughsby Peaks is a snowy mountain in an inhibited empty void. It’s quiet, eerily so. In the patches without snow is exposed rocky terrain that’s rough against your shoes. The opening at the entrance stares right at you as you climb the steep slope. It’s a dark cavern without a lick of light, making you unable to see anything inside. But there’s another path on the left that wraps around, leading to the top.   “So this is it…..”   Both you and Yoongi are stuck in your spots, gawking at your inevitable demise.   Had you told yourself a few weeks ago that you would be encountering a dragon with a stranger that’s no longer a stranger to you, you would’ve laughed before packing your bags and hitching a ride back to your overbearing family. As restrained as your freedom was, you were at least safe and away from danger.   But as you stand here next to Yoongi, oddly enough, you don’t feel frightened.   You feel….calm.    Maybe Yoongi’s finally emanated his stoicness and projected his indifference onto you. But you have a feeling that even if you become consumed by your own fire or that of the dragon’s, you wouldn’t mind as long as he’s there with you.   “It’ll be okay,” he says.   “Yeah…” You exchange soft expressions. “I know.”   The interior of the cave is damp, carrying a musty odor that makes you shudder when you sniff. But you try not to gag, instead keeping quiet as you stalk the walls. You and Yoongi are both hidden, coming inside from different points — you from the upper path while he took the main entrance. You can’t see him, but you know he’s here.    The plan is to stay hidden, to channel and conjure your illusion magic as a distraction while Yoongi fights the creature — a strategy similar to the one used with the Remorhaz.   So you keep yourself small, sliding behind a large boulder at a tiny plateau, a spot above the ground that makes your stomach coil when you realize you could fall to your death. It’s dark, but there’s light that comes up from the opening at the top of the mountain, a subtle beam cascading in.   But as you peek out for a tiny look, your breath hitches. There’s a mountain of diamonds and other light-hued gemstones at the bottom, a horde of highly polished platinum and silver pieces, works of art that look like mirrors, all glittering like ice. More importantly, the dragon having a slumber on top of its riches isn’t red, brass or gold like you feared it to be.   The sleeping, scaled beast with barbed claws and wide wings is white.   It’s a white dragon — a dragon of ice.   You nearly scream of delight, but you cover your mouth with your hand, trying to not be too loud. If you knew that the dragon wasn’t fire-breathing or fire resistant from the start, you would’ve marched straight in and torn this mountain apart. It’s not like a white dragon is any less fearsome, but now you know your abilities aren’t completely useless.   The dragon shifts, huffing through its nostrils and you have an inkling it’ll awake soon. Time was running out — the opportunity is still at hand and so, you steal it.    Before Yoongi can run in and sacrifice himself.   You grip onto your swirling orb and slide out into the open. Your fingers point at the stirring beast. At once, a bright streak flashes from your flesh. It blossoms with a low roar into an explosion of flames. The fireball spreads around all corners of a twenty foot radius sphere. And the ice dragon awakes with a pained growl from deep within its stomach.   Yoongi who’s been hiding behind other rocks is startled, cussing you under his breath for being a reckless brat and foiling the plan. But he takes it in stride and once the fire dissipates, he comes out and tosses the dagger. It hits — the blade dug in between the wings of the dragon.   “Who. Goes. There?!”    The dragon’s pained voice booms and echoes throughout the mountain, ricocheting in your ears and rumbling the ground beneath you. He is frightening, his presence calling all those to bow down to him, but you and Yoongi are unaffected.    “Come. Out!”   You follow its orders, but only to hurl another fireball at it.   Its howl is thunderous as its heavy limbs and scales are burnt, and Yoongi uses his secondary weapon that he seldomly touches, a crossbow, to shoot it at a distance. The arrow pierces into its leg. Yet the dragon’s attention has been taken by you and in spite of its heavy limbs and scales, it moves swiftly and dexterously. The creature of great stability inhales and then exhales an icy blast centered on you.   You’re able to move away, diving out of its range, but the damage has also been done. Your leg is encased in ice, but you prop yourself against the mountain’s wall and channel the magic that runs through your blood. Your hand lifts and you create a wall of fire to protect yourself from it.   It’s sixty feet long, twenty feet high and a foot thick. The wall is opaque, flaring every so often and heating up your cheeks. It makes your skin feel like it’s melting off of your face, your eyeballs burn to the back of your lids. Yet the orange glow almost seduces you to come closer, to feel the true intensity of the heat.   You allow the phoenix fire blazing within you to unleash — and your slumped form is magically wreathed in swirling fire. A bright light sheds from your flesh and your eyes glow like hot coals.   “How. Dare. You?!”   “Where is she?!” you strain your voice, allowing it to pull from your vocal cords. “Or did you already eat her?!”   “Who. Do. You. Seek?!”   “Sorli Stav’s daughter. Mina Stav,” you spit feverishly, barely able to recall their names as you feel yourself on the verge of burning.   “You. Come. For. Mina?!”   Yoongi fires another arrow and you hear the beast roar in torment. Despite the fire that you’ve stitched together to encase you, Yoongi dashes up the slide of the slope, shouting your name.   At the same time, the white dragon crosses the wall of fire. It braces through the flames, taking damage and howling as it does so. But once it makes it to the other side and claws at you, the flames wrapped around your body burns it further. You don’t go unscathed either — lacerated in three different strokes from your shoulder downwards and feeling the bleeding wound go numb from the coldness of the creature.   Still, your trembling hand lifts and you create three rays of fire in your palm, throwing them at the dragon with little effect.    It’s over. Surrounded by your fire, at the hands of a dragon emulating ice, you can only hope your family won’t be too disappointed. You can only hope that Yoongi makes it out alive.   But the man you’re thinking about, with his pastel yellow hair that you adored from the second you laid eyes on him, he rushes in front of you. His blade, drawn and shimmering in the glow of your inferno, strikes down upon the dragon. He flicks his wrist, raises his arm and slices him across his muzzle.   The dragon cries and Yoongi yells deep in the pits of his stomach before surging forward, driving the sword further into its hide.   “Yoongi.”   Before he can grip the handle and use his body weight to tear the blade down the dragon’s front, there’s a scream of terror—   “Wait!”   A girl covered in a black cloak, skirt of her white dress peeking out, comes into view. She stands at the entrance of the cave, chest rising and falling as she gasps. And she pulls her hood down, revealing brunette curls and brightened eyes.   “Please don’t hurt him,” she begs.   Your brows furrow, having no idea who she is or where she even came from. But Yoongi seems to know her with the way he steps forward and his eyes become rounded, recognizing her from a painting he had seen. “Mina?”   “Mina?!”    You whip your head over and everything finally clicks.    //   The kidnapped girl you were sent to rescue was in fact not kidnapped.   “We met when I was a child and he saved me when I was lost in the forest for days,” Mina reminisces with a tender smile, looking over at the dragon that’s polymorphed himself into a human form. He’s become an otherworldly man with long, black hair, his skin fair yet his eyes still icy blue. He doesn’t have any cuts or bruises from the earlier fight either.   If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was a divine being.   “We became friends and...somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him.”   You’re still reeling. It’s hard to comprehend what’s going on. Or wrap your mind around the fact that there’s a tunnel system underneath the mountain and they have a whole living space here. As Mina speaks, you soak in the mundane kitchen space — the glass cupboards of mugs and teacups, the cozy picture frames of flowers in a row above the sink.   “We’ve been together for years, but it was only recently I decided I wanted to be with him forever without needing to hide him or myself.” She lifts her hands, placing it on top of his on the table and he smiles, turning his palm around to interlace their fingers together.   “Your mother thinks you were kidnapped,” Yoongi tries to explain, “She sent us here to find you.”   Mina sighs. “My mother is an...anxious woman. I left her a letter, but it seems like she still thinks I was taken against my will.”   “Maybe you can write her another letter,” he offers. “We’ll deliver it and tell her our own account on how you want to stay here.”   “But even then, who’s to say she won’t hire someone else to force her back?” you pipe up, turning to Yoongi. You know full well how overbearing family members can be and with the way that woman had disdainfully spoken about the Ice Dragon, there’s no way she’ll allow her daughter to be with him. That much is obvious to you. “She might just think we’re lying and get other people to repeat exactly what we did.”   “You’re right.” Mina’s eyes are downcast. “If she won’t even listen to me, she would never listen to you adventurers.”   “You should go back with them,” the dragon, Azer, states in a low voice. You didn’t know dragons had proper names, but you suppose in these circumstances, such a thing isn’t too strange.   “No!” She turns to him immediately. “I want to be with you. I thought we talked about this.”   “Yes, but I want you to be safe and free, and here, you’re not—”   “But I’m happy here.” Mina smiles at him lovingly and in reassurance. “I’m happy with you.”   Yet, he takes her hand and caresses it, not quite looking her in the eyes. “Even at the expense of your mother’s worries?”   “She has always worried about me. If I returned, she would marry me off to some wealthy, old man. Would you be satisfied with that?”   “Of course not.”   “So let me be with you.”   It feels like you’re intruding in on an intimate scene meant to stay between a couple. You stay quiet, trying to blend into the yellow wallpaper with Yoongi — but one glance at him and finding that he has an impassive expression, it makes your lips tickle.    You never could’ve imagined an ancient ice dragon could be such a hopeless romantic. But while things of this nature would’ve made you feel unpleasant a few weeks ago, suddenly, it seems sweet. And familiar. As if you and Yoongi have had many intimate conversations like this before.   As if you are no stranger to these affectionate-laced words.   “Please don’t tell my mother I’m here.” Mina breaks your trance, turning to you both with a desperate expression. “I don’t want her to harm Azer anymore than she already has.”   The pair of you exchange expressions and after a second, Yoongi relents. “Then we can tell her that you passed away but we defeated the dragon. We’ll need evidence for it though.”   “My blood,” the dragon in human form hums. “A vial should be enough. It’s rare to come across dragon blood, so she’ll believe you.”   Yoongi nods.   “You should leave this place too,” you say, looking around the cozy abode that they’ve made together. It would be a shame to leave this place, but a necessity for the plan. “There might be other travelers or creatures that hike up this mountain. If they see that you’re alive, the whole rouse will be over.”   They take each other’s hands, gazing at one another with warm smiles. “That’s easy enough.”   “Thank you.” Mina looks at both you and Yoongi. “Truly.”   But you don’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything spectacular. It wasn’t a fight, a battle, a victory. It was a compromise. One you had never expected to make during the trek here.   The couple offer you spare rooms to take long rests in and afterwards, they serve warm meals to satisfy the bubbling starvation in your stomach. It’s odd to see the dragon sitting there at the table, not at all resentful or angered at how you barged into his home and started to attack him without warning. He even makes jokes to you and Yoongi to which you both stiffly laugh at.    But neither of you linger for long.   When you both feel well enough to make the trip back, you bid your final farewells.   Though before you leave for good, there’s an urge to satisfy the curious question probing your brain. So you turn around to the girl you’ve been searching for all this time. “Won’t you ever get tired spending the rest of your life running and hiding?”   Mina smiles at you, a tender way you don’t yet understand. And she looks over her shoulder to the man wiping down the table. “Maybe. But I think I found something that’s worth it.”   You wonder if your own reasons are worth it.   //   A sigh befalls your lips as you walk down the steep mountain, leaving your footprints in the snow next to his. “Love does crazy things, huh?”   Yoongi steals a glance at you and smiles. “Yeah, it does.”

The journey back to Millpass takes a week without any detours.   The pair of you aren’t stoppered by ridiculous antics of other travelers nor encounter many monsters or beasts that prevent you from going forth. It’s almost ironic how smoothly and quickly things progress, how each day you make it farther than you thought was possible.   Ironically sad, of course.    Not that you would ever admit it for fear of exposing the rest of your brewing emotions. But you can’t help dwelling on the fact that the moment you learned to cherish Yoongi’s presence is when the inevitable end was approaching. Barreling towards you. Mercilessly.   Time with him always felt like it was slipping through your fingertips. To the point where you can’t even enjoy the present moment, aware that the future will have his absence. Aware that you will someday come to miss these simple affairs, these measly spats and bantering conversations.   You’ll miss him, you know that much.   How painful it’ll exactly be is something you’ll still have to wait on and see.    But no matter how much you brood, how much you try to preserve the mundane moments in your mind, the journey unavoidably ends.   In Millpass, the two of you are welcomed back as heroes. Sorli Stav is absolutely devastated over the news that her daughter is dead, but is thankful for your vengeance in ‘defeating’ the dragon. She even takes the dragon blood vial you give her as evidence, and parades it around before placing it on her mantle, underneath her ginormous portrait, as a sick memento.    The other spare dragon blood vials you have are things you sell at astronomical prices, much to Yoongi’s dismay. Although it’s not as bad in comparison when there’s a surprise celebration hosted on the streets by Sorli Stav herself. She makes sure that the whole town and their mothers know that both you and Yoongi are heroes. That you gutted that Ice Dragon to death.   There’s a party. Balloons. Free drinks. A whole speech from the mayor.   In reality, you and Yoongi are shams. Not heroes. But it’s actually not such a bad feeling.   Real heroes are overrated anyways.   “Thought I would find you here.”   Yoongi scoffs lightly but still smiles as you climb the hill and plop down beside him on the verdant grass. “I just wanted a break.”   “Too tired of all the ladies throwing themselves onto you?”   “Half of them don’t even know my name.” The man lazily grins, sitting back and leaning his weight onto his hands. “They keep calling me Yorgo. Who the hell is Yorgo.”   “Obviously the name they’re going to be screaming tonight.”   Yoongi bursts out laughing and you giggle with him.   “That mysterious front is going to land you into some trouble some day, Yoongi.”   “Yeah?” He cocks a brow, looking at you. “Is it?”   A noncommittal sound is made at the back of your throat. “People are going to fall for you left and right. What will you do then?”   “Maybe you could help me.”   “Don’t put the responsibility on me,” you tease. “It’s your fault. Appearing and disappearing. Not saying much. You just like making people wonder about you.”   “Does it work for you too?”   “Maybe.”   The evening sun’s beams pierce the sky. The sunset glow has pressed itself on your cheeks, and you both watch the soft colours cascade through the horizon, allowing the laughter of the town to fall into background noise.   Suddenly, your eyes light up as you remember something and you reach into your pocket. “Look how much gold I made. This isn’t even Sorli’s reward either. Just the dragon blood.”   He snorts and lifts his hand to feel the heavy weight of the sack. “Not bad. Are you far from your goal?”   “Halfway there,” you sing-song, “But you can keep that.”   Yoongi raises his brows, surprised that you’re sharing your wealth. “Really?”   “Yeah, I just figured….I’ve taken a lot from you anyways and it’s only fair if we half it. Plus, it can be my goodbye gift.”   It goes silent.    Yoongi holds the leather bag in his hand and focuses on it as if he’s using it to avoid his eyes straying towards you. “Are you going to look for those tapestries?”   You sigh after a moment. “No.” You can feel his gaze on you and you fiddle with your fingers. “I don’t think it’s in my reach anyways. After hearing all the rumours from different places, I have a feeling the tapestries are actually lost in the castle itself and they haven’t searched hard enough for it.”   “Then what are you planning to do after all this?”   “I...thought about what you said, Yoongi.” You shift towards him, eyes connecting. “I’m going to go home.”   “I’m tired of running away and I think it’s time I confront them and gain my legitimate freedom. I’ll fight for it. So I can come and go as I please. So I don’t have to hide under a different name.” The house that you dreamed of doesn’t need to be secluded behind a barrier in the middle of nowhere. You don’t need to go to such extremes as to cut off the rest of your family. You believe there has to be a way to have the freedom you seek and the comfort of home. “I’ll fight for it.”   “You can do it,” he whispers and you look up in surprise. Yet, Yoongi only smiles. “I believe in you.”   He is sincere. Earnest. And it means a lot coming from him, a man who is blunt and not necessarily encouraging. To have Yoongi’s support makes you feel like you could conquer anything.   “What about you? What are you going to do?”   “I should probably go back home too.” He looks off at the sunset. “It’s been a while. And there’s unfinished business I should tend to.”   You hum, following his line of sight to the beautiful sky and the fading light. Suddenly, you feel a soft touch on your finger, warm skin that hesitantly meets yours. The corner of your lips quirk and while you never once look at each other, your hand interlaces with Yoongi’s.   “We’ll see each other soon,” you promise aloud, not sure if you’re saying it for yourself or for him.   But within a beat, Yoongi hums in agreement. Like he didn’t even need to think about it.    “You still owe me that refund.”   “What about that whole sack of gold?”   “Doesn’t count. That’s a goodbye present. Not a refund.”   You laugh, leaning into Yoongi who smiles to himself.    It’s bittersweet — to know the impending yearning, but also the ultimate reunion.

[kuramirocket]

Growing up in California in my grandmother's house, surrounded by tías, tíos, and all my cousins, I always felt a deep connection to my Mexican-American roots. Every generation of my father's family has had incredibly different experiences that reflect much about American history. 

My great-grandfather on my abuela's side, Daniel Martinez, grew up in Mexico and immigrated to Los Angeles. Eventually, he saved enough money to open a neighborhood market, which is where he met my great-grandmother, Guadalupe Miranda Martinez. She had come from Mexico to Los Angeles with her mother and brother as a young teenager. They soon married and began having children. When he lost his business in the 1920s, the family turned to migrant farm work. They were forced to use segregated water fountains and bathrooms and my darker-skinned tíos and tías were sent to Mexican schools, while those with light skin and blonde or red hair were allowed to attend schools with white students.

Unhappy with the segregated schools, my great-grandfather joined up with other families to open the East Barrio School for Latinos in Claremont, CA — fighting the status quo is part of my heritage! They taught reading and writing in Spanish and learned Mexican history at a time when it was hard to show pride about being Mexican.

My great-grandfather on my abuelo's side, Catalino Alba, came from Mexico during the Revolution. He met my great-grandmother when he immigrated to Gallup, NM, where he helped build the Santa Fe Railroad. He was a musician and inspired my abuelo José Alba to sing, practice traditional Mexican dance, and become an accomplished classical guitarist. As a child, there was never a family party where my abuelo didn't play guitar while my abuela, tíos and tías, and cousins sang along. Perhaps this is where I got my love for the performing arts!

My great-grandfather moved to San Bernardino, CA, to work on the railroad and my abuelo José Alba grew up in the barrio where he and his siblings slept head to foot. With little food at home, he often asked the neighbors for fruit from their fruit trees. He was compelled to eat dirt, which he later learned was a natural response to the lack of iron that he needed in his diet. As a kid, he wasn't allowed to swim in a public pool without a certification of vaccination. He would often get glass stuck in his shoes because the soles were so thin and worn out — he couldn't afford anything else. At one point, glass punctured his foot, and as a result he developed lockjaw, which was nearly fatal.

When he could work, he made money selling oranges and picking potatoes. He says the first thing he did when he had money was to go down to Main Street to have his shoes shined by a young boy. He told that boy that he would come every week because he knew he was trying to make his own way too.

There were 12 kids in the family and my abuelo is proud that his mom figured out a way to send them to school as soon as it was possible. She understood the value of education. Even though it was hard for them, she made it a priority.

This is my abuelo and abuela's wedding above — so classic. I always thought our ancestors were Spanish, but I learned through genetic testing that they were Native American, with roots that may go back as far as the Mayan civilization. We've been here from the beginning!

My parents, Mark and Catherine Louisa Alba, were so different . . . but they had the same hairstyle! I know that when my dad was growing up it was difficult for him and his parents to be Mexican-American. The hyphen wasn't an option back then.

My abuelo had only learned English when he transferred to grammar school at around 6 years old, and he was way behind as a result. Like many others of their generation, my grandparents didn't teach their children, including my dad, to speak Spanish. My abuelo says that he didn't even think about it, but I wonder if he associated it with a difficult transition in his life.

I want my girls to embrace their Latino roots, know how much we have contributed to this country, and understand that the road ahead is richer when we acknowledge and embrace our heritage. I want them to learn Spanish like their great-grandparents. I'm incredibly proud of my diverse heritage and I want my daughters to feel the same way.

Jessica Alba is something of a triple threat: She's managed to achieve major success as an actress, fashion designer, and business mogul. It's hard to imagine anyone not wanting to work with Alba, but early in her career she had a hard time getting roles because of her race.

"They couldn't figure out my ethnicity," Alba said. "I would always go out for 'exotic.' They were like, 'You're not Latin enough to play a Latina, and you're not Caucasian enough to play the leading lady, so you're going to be the "exotic" one.' Whatever that was."

Of course, Alba eventually ended up starring in hits like Fantastic Four, Into the Blue, and Good Luck Chuck. So, yeah, it's safe to say she proved those people wrong.

And not only is this actress leading by example; she's also taking steps to change the game herself. The creation of Alba's cosmetics line, Honest Beauty, which she founded as part of her brand, The Honest Company, in 2015, stemmed from her own struggles as a young girl trying to find a foundation that matched her unique complexion. "I didn't feel like, when I was younger, that there were a lot of things offered to women of color," she said.

So Alba went out and made her own. "The philosophy around starting this beauty line is about enhancing who you are instead of cover up and turn you into somebody else," she said.

Jessica Alba’s startup The Honest Company is a veritable success — approaching over $350 million in sales during a year in which many companies struggled — but venture capitalists turned up their noses to the idea at first.

In 2009, Alba had a real issue: She couldn’t find baby products for her newborn that were guaranteed to be safe and eco-friendly. After having an allergic reaction to one of the allegedly baby-safe detergents she bought, she developed her idea the same way many successful entrepreneurs get started: She pitched building the solution she herself wished was on the market.

Alba pitched serial entrepreneur Brian Lee on her idea, who reportedly passed after saying it wasn't “very promising.” The feeling that others don’t see potential in you or your business idea is a familiar frustration for budding entrepreneurs. At the time, Alba remarked that she felt nobody took her seriously as an entrepreneur, or even believed in her idea, even though she knew there would be demand. 

But just five years later, The Honest Company reached unicorn status, valued at over one billion dollars. What changed in those five years that let her take her failed pitch to becoming a success story?

To perfect your pitch, experiment

Fast forward to 2012. Alba is now in Washington, lobbying for an update to reform the 1976 Toxic Substances Control Act. Buoyed by her growing knowledge on the subject, she went back to Lee and pitched him again.

This time, her deck was much more concise, down to less than 30 minutes from start to finish. In a world where most entrepreneurs give up after a rejection or two, Alba instead had spent the years between their two meetings pitching her idea to friends, getting holes poked in her positioning,and answering each and every supply chain question that arose. 

Another change had happened over the last three years: Venture capitalists like Lee, whom she was pitching, had all started young families. Alba’s pitch was rock solid, and as an added bonus her prospective investors wanted the product themselves. 

Lee said yes to the second pitch. The first year The Honest Company was in business, it reported an astonishing $12 million in revenue, a number that has only increased each year. After facing initial rejection on her pitch, Alba’s decision to persevere has led The Honest Company to dramatic success.

At first, everyone told Alba she should start with one product, then expand once that was successful. But this didn’t gel with Alba’s vision of a complete line of baby-safe products; the founder knew parents who wanted clean products wanted a brand that could provide multiple solutions.

Ultimately, Alba ignored the conventional advice and launched with 17 products, which many people believed was too many. But because she didn’t compromise on that, either to venture capitalists or herself, the launch was a total success.

Sources: (×) (x) (x) (×)

[arazialotis]

Winchester & Co. - Part 4

Pairing: Dean × Reader

Word Count: Around 3100

Summary: When most people run away, they join the circus; but the Winchester boys were running from it. They wanted more than their father’s business; a paranormal circus of horror and delight. Dean Winchester thought he would never step foot here again but John’s death obliged him to return. Now that he’s back, the only thing that may tempt him to stay is you. The girl with white hair and a gift to see the future. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: Violence, Language

Beta’d by the wonderful @misguidedconqueress

As the days passed, you were nowhere near closer to solving the mystery surrounding John’s death. Snippets of the future from staff lead to more questions than answers, loose strings that you and Dean couldn’t tie together. Your stolen moments in the field shortened as Dean dove further into his father's office, looking for hints; but soon the demands of the business pulled harder. Balancing books, distributing salaries, ordering supplies. The witch Celeste by far had the most extensive list, requiring ingredients for the potions she peddled. 

The ledgers were sprawled across his father’s desk as Dean attempted to recall the past weeks of spending and income. He scratched up his own writing and mistakes, muttering to himself at his hopeless attempt. A rapping knock at the office door stirred him from the concentration. 

“Sorry to intrude.”

Dean smiled and sighed in relief. His kid brother, now taller than he. Sam entered the room, greeting Dean with an embrace.

“Man, am I glad to see you.” Dean gently beat against Sam’s shoulder. 

Two years prior to Dean’s own departure, Sam had left the circus after a furious confrontation with John. He packed his bags and took a train out to the East Coast, landing a spot at some pretentious institute and coming out with a law degree. It was far from accounting, but as far as Dean was concerned, Sam could handle the bookkeeping far better than he. 

“It’s been too long.” Sam matched the sentiment, lightly patting Dean’s jaw, taking in his exhaustion. “An event such as this shouldn’t have to force us together.” 

“Agreed.” Dean went back to the scribbles of his books but paused again. “How much do you know?” 

Sam furrowed his brow. 

“About Dad’s death?” Dean clarified. 

Sam nodded his understanding. “I met with Crowley at the tent. He caught me up to speed, leaving out a few key details I’m sure.” 

“Call me crazy.” Dean wrung the back of his neck. “But I’m beginning to trust that son of a bitch.” Dean could see the confusion painted on Sam’s face. “He’s motivated by greed. Being Dad’s second in command was the best thing going for him. Without knowing what was in the will and a hefty pay increase last quarter, I just don’t see it.” 

“And the girl?” Sam pried. 

“What of it?” 

Sam sat down in the office chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk. “Is your judgment surrounding her clouded?”

Dean clenched his jaw. Sam had his own past here. “Why were you really at the tent?”

Sam cleared his throat and brought his feet down. “Point taken.” He shuffled through the papers. “And the will?”

Dean pointed towards a ledger and Sam found the slip underneath. “It’s pretty straight forward. Not much legal jargon you need to sort through.” 

Sam leaned back, running his hand through his untrimmed hair, verging on a length the courtrooms wouldn’t find acceptable. “What the hell are we going to do?” 

It was a question Dean found himself asking over and over again this past week. It was no longer a home to him, but a home to so many. Home to you. “I have no idea.”

***

The warmth building in the caravan transmitted into your dreams, making it hard to breathe. Looking up, two unfamiliar figures loomed above you, heated in an argument. Her hair, the color of fire sparked with her temper. And he, a modest man, a cooling dark against her hot spirit. His hands were calloused from hard labor. 

“You have to keep a better eye on her!” The woman yelled. “You know it’s not safe for her to go out.” 

“What would you have me do, Eileen? I work two shifts so you have a place to live. I need to sleep sometime!” He defended. “You're not the only one who works!” Showing her hands, colored from dyes and chemicals. 

Tears slid down your eyes, though you didn’t know why. It felt like your fault. 

“All that talk? It’s all just rumors! If they see her… they’ll understand.” He begged. 

“You can’t believe that’s true. Look at how they treat us! Our people! They’ll treat her just the same. Even worse for what she is.” A kettle screamed from the kitchen, she threw her hands up and left the conversation to take it off the stove. 

He followed, the words becoming blurred as you looked out the window to towering buildings stretching for miles, wishing to fly over them and breath fresh air. 

The sound of heavy boots stomped outside the hallway. You ran to her, burying your face into her skirt. A knock sounded on the door. The couple looked at each other. The man went for a fire poker while the woman bent down to meet you. She pushed white hair out of your eyes. 

Her voice filled with worry, hissing like the kettle. “Hide. Hide, Moonchild.” 

In the small apartment, there were few places to hide. You ran to the bedroom and slid under the bed. You peeked out from the sheet, hanging an inch or two above the floor. Muffled voices and the sound of scraping feet. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe you should come out. Your heart thudded against your chest. Bang! A shot rang out through the air. A scream escaped your lips and your hands went to your ears, covering them from the woman’s cries. 

Her feet scurried into the room and her plea’s protested against the attacker. Another shot. Red dots speckled the floor where she fell with a thud. Her eyes open, staring at you. Your hands covered your mouth this time, backing up further under the bed until you hit the wall. Boots thudded around the room. You couldn’t breathe. They were right next to you. ***

You woke up in a panic. Your mouth and eyes dry, panting in the warm air. Sunlight crept through the cracks of the caravan. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. You repeated over and over to yourself until the panic subsided. 

Scuttling around your little caravan, you went for some water to quench your thirst but were out. A trip to the well then. You grabbed a large wooden bucket and rag; leaving the house, not bothering with a shawl or shoes. 

The circus was already up and bustling. They were all up earlier to be first in line for a trader from town. He came around monthly, selling goods and trinkets. Items for purchase that were not made available by John. You fancied a lotion he sold, that smelled of amber and vanilla. You took it in your hand. Strictly to use for your desire, not because you wanted to entice a certain someone. A smirk crept over you at the thought of him. Inspecting other items, you settled on just that and tossed him a few coins, before continuing on your way. 

You weaved through the stalls and shacks, waving to familiar faces as you went. You waved to Castiel who was meeting with Celeste, though he didn’t seem to notice your presence. Pausing to wait, it seemed they were having something of a debate. 

“Celeste, pull your act tonight. We’re running out quicker than I anticipated.” His arm leaned against her small home, watching as she brewed away some type of potion. “Things are going to get out of hand.”

“There are too many.” Celeste hissed. “I can’t remember them all.” 

“I’m working on it.” He assured. “Just do what you can. With both boys…” He stood straight when he noticed you. “Y/N, pleasant morning for a walk.” 

You swang your bucket back and forth, as if you only just arrived, hoping he didn’t realize you were eavesdropping. “Ay.” You agreed. “What brings you out to these parts?” You eyed Celeste suspiciously. 

Castiel pushed up off the house and joined you in the path. “Customers complaining that the love potions are too weak, making sure the next shipment has all of Celeste’s ingredients this time.”

“That seems more up Crowley’s alley.” You stood your ground, not being so easily fooled. 

Castiel sighed as your eyes darted between him and Celeste, working out what they had been discussing. “Walk with me Y/N.” He instructed. You followed him along the path to the well. The wooden shacks that passed as homes began spacing out and grass filled in the gaps. “Listen Y/N. I know how fond you are of Dean.” A blush filled your cheeks, you looked down to your feet and kicked a loose pebble. Had it already traveled that fast around the circus? He continued. “And Dean, he’s like a brother to me, but he’s been out of this a long time. With John gone, there’s a lot of gaps Crowley is trying to fill. I’m trying to help, is all.” 

You clicked your teeth, and shrugged away your suspicion, mostly. “Well, I’m not doing much of anything, so I’m happy to help.”

Castiel stopped as the path split and rested his hand on your shoulder. “That means a lot. I’m sure once we understand the scope of things, there’ll be something for you to do, no doubt.” His hand dropped as he looked down the path. “Well, I’d better get a move on it.” “See ya, Cas.” You headed down your own. “Oh Y/N.” Castiel turned from his direction. “How are you? From our last reading?” 

You chuckled. “Oh, fine. Just fine. It seemed like just a fluke. Maybe I’m only supposed to read humans, not angels.” 

Castiel nodded. “Makes sense. Take care.” He waved goodbye. 

You waved him along, silent with your thoughts; sorting out the whole ordeal. You pushed it away. Celeste and Crowley, now that would be a pair to be leery of. But Cas, no. You had seen the stress trying to run the operations had caused Dean. He needed all the help he could get. Not that he would ask for it. From what Castiel had said earlier, Sam was back. That should calm things down for the foreseeable future.

The well broke away from the surrounding trees, a small clearing in the forest. It was quiet today, others were not gathered around. You lowered your bucket in and brought it up, the water sloshing as it went. 

You smiled, finally being able to quench your thirst and cool the heat of the day. You cupped your hands and brought a drink to your lips, before splashing the remainder on your face. You wrung the rag, now damp and worked it behind your neck and down your arms. Pulling up your skirt and revealing your bare legs underneath, you scrubbed away at sweat and dirt. Finally satisfied, you indulged in the sweet scent of the lotion. The sun glistened against your skin as you rubbed it up and down your legs, humming as you went. 

A whistling tune joined your melody. Your cheeks flushed and you whipped down your skirt to cover yourself, turning towards the noise. “Ah.” You scowled at Dean and tossed the rag at him. “How long have ya been there?” He chuckled and came closer. “Only a bit, didn’t want to spoil the view.” He was standing over you, smiling ear to ear. As much as you tried to suppress yours, a smirk still came through. “You rotten scoundrel.” You playfully accused.

He sat down next to you on the edge of the well. “We do have facilities with running water, you know.” 

You shrugged your shoulders. “I find this more soothing, and typically more private. Though I do realize it may not be as effective, hygienically speaking.” 

He took your chin in his hand, turning you to face him. “You smell lovely.” 

Your lips turned up devilishly. “Perhaps I taste even better.” 

Dean leaned in. His soft lips working against your chapped skin. He trailed from your lips down your neck. You moaned from the pleasure, your hand snaking through his hair, pulling him further into you. His name faintly escaped your lips as his hand clutched at your waist. The crash of the wave settled as he finally came up for air. 

“Inconclusive.” He stated. “Further testing will have to be done.” He teased. 

He leaned in, yet you pushed him away, giggling as you did. “Rotten.” You repeated before lowering your voice to a sultry whisper. “As for further testing, you’ll have to come by later tonight.” 

“So actually…” As he spoke, you huffed in defeat. “With Sam back home, we were planning a small ceremony for dad tonight.” Your pouty-ness melted away at the good cause. “Of course you’re welcome to attend.” 

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

***

A full-length mirror was one of the very few items that adorned your caravan. Looking at it now you were displeased. Not because of the chipping gold varnish, or the discoloration in the glass, splotchy, and in need of a polish. No, it was because of what was looking back. You had ditched your traditional garb for a tea-length black dress. It was John’s funeral, after all. But the material picked at your skin. The dress itself made you appear darker, more sinister than you cared for. Like you were the demon-witch they all accused you of being. You swallowed the memory. This wasn’t about you or your comfort. You’d make a respectable appearance, you convinced yourself while pulling on stockings and sliding into shoes. It was suffocating, but you could deal with it for a few hours. 

Dean, Sam, Crowley, and a few others were gathered at the Winchester’s home. You greeted Sam with a hug, keeping the moment somber, but making a mental note to tease him about his astonishing height later. Dean and you kept close but avoided direct affection in the crowd. You made your way past the garden to an oak that matched the pair at the circus’s entrance. A white picket fence surrounded the area of stones within. John’s parents, brother, and Mary before him. A deep hole now in the earth for him to join them. 

Dean held the box, wrapped in parchment, close as a local minister led the group in solemn words of prayer. Words of comfort, healing, hope. None of which you felt. You tried to picture John now. What he had meant to you. A rescuer, a savior, a home. Blood speckled across his face. You gasped, your heart picking up pace. No, that wasn’t… you pushed it down, refocusing on the minister. 

Dean’s pinky wrapped around yours. You gently squeezed against it, conveying you were there for him. When instructed he let go of you and placed the box of ashes into the ground. He took a shovel and sprinkled on a covering of dirt, followed by Sam and then others. The shovel passed to you. You dug into the mound, hovering over the hole for a moment. 

Anger flushed against you and a thought crossed your mind. ‘Rot in Hell.’

You blinked away the feeling, the emotion, and without sprinkling dirt over him, you passed it off to the next person. You shouldn’t be here. Aimlessly, you began wandering away, your head spinning with confusion. 

“Y/N. Hey.” Dean called for you, his voice out of breath. You looked back, realizing you had made it farther away than you thought. 

“What’s wrong?” Dean regained your attention, his voice filled with concern. 

“I…” Your voice faltered and chest heaved for air. 

A scream ripped through the air, both of you whipped to the direction of it. Shouting rang afterward, coming from the fairgrounds. Dean took off in a sprint; you followed quickly behind, shoes flying off as you ran. 

You slowed your pace as you neared. A large crowd circled around. Fire spitting up into the air. Dean and you pushed your way through to the front. Danny, the vampire, and a fire-spitting side act were riled up in the middle of it. Danny’s hair was noticeably singed. “Hey!” Dean’s voice boomed, with none of the gentleness you had previously known. “What’s going on here?” He demanded. 

The dragon spoke first, defending his actions “He stole it! I know he did. Saw him sneaking around earlier this morning.” 

“I did nothing.” Danny hissed. 

“Stole what?” Dean asked. “My watch. My golden watch.” The dragon begged for its return. Danny rolled his eyes. “I have no need for useless trinkets.”

“Take that back!” The dragon snarled, his throat turning red from the heat.

“Hey!” Dean pushed himself into the middle, separating the two. “Knock it off!” When he felt assured the dragon had calmed, he looked at Danny. “Turn out your pockets.” 

“I don’t take orders…” He started. 

“Turn out your pockets!” Dean yelled again. 

Danny obliged. Nothing but an empty vial, a paper parchment, and a spare string. 

Sam caught up, pushing his way to the front, but not interfering with Dean’s authority. 

“Sam, round up a few volunteers and search Danny’s belongings.” Dean heard the vampire growl behind him. “If he is innocent, then he should have nothing to hide.” 

Sam nodded and called on a few to follow him. “As for the rest of you!” Dean’s voice boomed over the crowd. “We have a business and show to run, now get back to work!” The group began to disperse but Dean grabbed the dragon by the collar of the shirt. “Don’t make a habit out of quarrels.” He threatened in a hushed tone. “Come to me before taking it into your own hands. Understand?” The dragon nodded and Dean pushed him away. As a few straggled behind, he found you, himself at a loss for words or explanations. 

“Since when did the dragons here give a shit about treasure?” He asked you, perplexed as if he had forgotten the past. 

“They don’t.” 

Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead, waiting for the next disaster to strike. He was off to follow Sam to ensure Danny wasn’t causing any additional trouble.  

“Mr. Winchester, Mr. Winchester!” A shapeshifter ran through the grounds calling after him. “It’s the werewolf. She’s transformed. On her own!”

“What?” Was all he managed to mutter. 

“The angels have her cornered, trying to corral her into the cage.” 

He caught up to speed. “Is anyone hurt?” She shook her head no. 

“Fetch Crowley, have him meet me there.” He instructed. 

She jolted off. 

He looked at you, a young innocence shining through his eyes. He didn’t sign up for this but it was in his hands now. 

“Go!” You waved him on. “Go.” 

His feet sprung before he intended to, swinging into motion, running towards the tent. He didn’t look back. You thought about joining him, but a werewolf on the loose was out of your element. You’d just be another body in the way. 

Taking in the faces on the grounds, you slowly spun around as they got back to work. Sweeping steps, practicing tricks. Their faces, shallow and sunken. Stress and tensions high. The circus no longer felt like a sunlit field, a refuge from the world. No, this was dark. Gloomy. A horror people perceived your kind to be. 

 “Are we all going mad?” The panicked question caught your breath, rushing out unexpectedly, to no one in particular.

----

Tags:

Forevers: @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @jotink78 @blushingdean @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21 @carryonmyswansong @atc74 @superapplepie @cassieraider @adaliamalfoy @iwriteaboutdean @spnbaby-67 @monkeymcpoopoo @adoptdontshoppets @maddiepants @onceuponathreetwoone @thisismysecrethappyplace

 Dean x Reader: @akshi8278 @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa @tacklesackles @aubreystilinski @iamabeautifulperson18 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @ria132love

Winchester & Co: @flamencodiva​ @shamelesslydean​

[deltaengineering]

Fall Anime 2019 Part 2: Fanservice

Choujin Koukousei-tachi wa Isekai demo Yoyuu de Ikinuku you desu!

Here we go. We’ve had some isekai that wasn’t totally bad for one reason or another, but of course that couldn’t last. Choujin Koukousei-tachi wa Isekai demo Yoyuu de Ikinuku you desu, or Choyoyu if you want to be merciful, or High School Prodigies Have It Easy Even in Another World if you want spoilers, is so nakedly isekai that I’m actually kind of confused. You see, usually isekai is about some loser that gets transported somewhere where his mediocrity is overwhelmingly powerful. I don’t like it, but I get it. Choyoyu, on the other hand, is about a bunch of kids that are already hax and get transported to another world where they’re even more hax and also elf girls give them tongue kisses. Is this for people who are so emotionally fragile that they don’t even want to be reminded of how much they suck in their isekai power fantasies? Then again this is written by someone who also thinks that politicians (one of the kids is the prime minister of Japan... yeah) are supergeniuses, and that if you max out journalism, you prestige class to ninja. Yes, it is more or less comedic and so bizarre that it almost seems like an attempt at parody again, but lemme check something real quick...

Nah, I’m all out of benefits of the doubt and running low on fucks as well.

Azur Lane

So, Azur Lane then. I could tell you all about how it’s a gijinka thing about World War 2 warships, but then you’d say “isn’t that just Kantai Collection” and yes. Not to mention that Azur Lane seems to be more popular than Kancolle now, so either way this isn’t very surprising. So let’s just go over the differences: Azur Lane isn’t almost entirely Japanese ships, and there’s a three-way fight of Axis vs Allies vs Aliens going on. The upshot of this is that Azur Lane is mostly shipgirl(s) vs shipgirl(s) and not everyone vs mobs. And that’s it for the one difference that matters, apart from that it’s a bit more varied than the Kancolle anime was, but that just gives it an uneven tone that swings between Gochiusa-levels of fluffiness and lesbian twincest aircraft carrier villains hamming it up. Characters? We have several dozens of them, thanks for asking. If you play the game or stalk Danbooru/Pixiv religiously, you might even care about them. The (supremely silly) action is technically alright, but doesn’t reach the level of “impressive”, and of course it’s hard to follow with so many obligatory participants. I’d label this one “fans only” and even for them I’d assume it’s just decent at best.

Null Peta

This is a short about a child genius that misses her (dead?) sister so much she builds a robotic version of her. Several mishaps later and she’s stuck with something that most closely resembles Doraemon if Doraemon was all ara ara and also all mofu mofu (apart from when the spikes come out). As far as wacky children’s adventure comedy shenanigans go, this seems to be fairly agreeable, but where it really shines is how it looks. This season admittedly hasn’t had a real sakuga heavy hitter so far, but Null Peta comes the closest to one since it looks quite dope, especially for a weird random short. 5m/week and nothing too annoying make this one easy enough to follow up on.

Chuubyou Gekihatsu Boy

Here we have the example of an anime where I would admit that it’s pretty good at what it wants to be, but what it wants to be is just intolerable. This appears to be a reverse harem with the theme of all the boys having some shade of chuunibyou (if you gotta ask, you don’t want to know) going. I even like the protagonist girl, she’s likeable and shows a bit of personality when being exasperated at the gang of incredibly annoying idiots surrounding her. But that’s the problem: In particular “Red”, a genki runt with a sentai gimmick, is a show destroyer all on his own. The others aren’t quite as bad as him but I’d still accept maybe one of them per harem at most. It does alright in execution, visuals, timing and so on (DEEN’s “poor man’s SHAFT” team, cf. Meganebu, seems to be seeking a comeback), but you’d have to be embarrassingly thirsty for idiot dick to put up with this shit.

Val x Love

Just to prove that I am an equal-opportunity harem h8r, here’s a non-apparently non-reverse one and yes, it also sucks. Not only is it easily the cheapest looking show so far, it’s also reminiscent of the Conception school of harem setup: If you must know, Val x Love is about an ugly ogre of a dude whose lonely house is suddenly stuffed full of Val(kyrie)s (= 9 Japanese harem archetypes because, you know) by none other than Odin himself between cuts. He then has to fight some monsters by cuddling one of the Vals, which unlocks their super or something. Barebones, uninteresting and crappy looking, this one is a real stinker and should be of interest to nobody.

Fate Grand Order - Absolute Demonic Front Babylonia

It’s the seventh story arc of the hit mobile RPG Fate/grand order! How do I know? Because they talk about how they skipped the previous six ones, presumably because they’re boring. Or more boring, at least. It’s Fate, and I know an embarrassing amount of details about Fate (e.g. enough to know that the Rinclone that appears apropos of nothing is Ishtar), and I’ve even seen First Order (which sucked), but this stuff is impenetrable, yo. This iteration on F/go definitely doesn’t care for people who don’t play the game, rare as they may be, and at best you’re supposed to let the proper nouns wash over you and enjoy the spectacle. It’s just that it’s CloverWorks this time, and while an attempt was made, shit just blows up way gooder over at ufotable. So the spectacle is insufficiently spectacular, and Mash is still insufficiently moe. In the end this does nothing to change my opinion of F/go away from “functionally identical to every insipid homebrew Servant thread on /a/ ca. 2010, also Shiki can kill Servants, discuss″, and I ain’t watching 2 cours of that.

Mairimashita! Iruma-kun

Iruma-kun is a goodhearted boy whose scumbag parents sell him off to some demon, who then transports him to hell and enrolls him in demon school where demons try to step to him. Isekai and battle harem is my first suspicion, but not so fast! It’s not a light novel, and while the general gestalt of this setup might resemble a certain conical helix, this appears to merely be convergent evolution. In other words, it’s just a funny kid’s manga, and it’s not even bad for that. It’s colorful, moves at a decent clip and I was moderately amused by the antics of Midoriyaface trying to dodge the ol’ KILL BY DEMONS. It’s just that I also know that this is very much not for me, and while it’s better than say, eIDLIVE, I don’t think I want to stick around. Props where they are deserved, though.

[obama-self]

I Love You. Wait for Me

OKaayyyyyyyy SO this is my submition for Angsty week. I suddenly have the idea just now. So, i’m soo sorry if it’s terrible and not well thought. I also apologize for any mistakes. 

Thank you @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover for trusting me enough to write something for @angsty-angstweek. I hope this will suffice.

Title: I Love You. Wait for Me. Rating: Teens and Up Audience Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel Word counts: 1,3k Tag: angst

read on AO3

Dean is at the Roadhouse, drinking his ass off. They are having a fight again, Cas and Dean. Over what, Dean has already forgotten. Probably something minor, but they have been in each other throats these past few days. Dean loves Cas. Gosh, does he loves Cas, but sometimes it is just hard for him to keep his temper in check when things get heated. The last thing he remembers is how Cas is complaining that Dean is working late. How he always opting for staying until late hours at work or ‘covering’ someone else’ shifts over spending time with Cas.

“Dean. Please, just stay at home. With me. You don’t have to go to work. You’re the boss.”

“And what Cas? What should I do if didn’t go to work? Just relaxing, playing maid for you? You know that ain’t me. You know I’ve worked hard for success. I don’t want that to slip away. But then again, what do you know. You come for money. You don’t know anything about hard work.” Dean scoffed. The moment the words are out his mouth, he knows he hurts Cas. He knows that Cas actually has to work against his family will and stay true to himself. He knows that Cas pays all his college tuition by selling his arts. All on his own. But, right now, Dean just wants to hurt Cas. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t remember why.

The hurt on Cas’ face is something Dean never wants to see again. He wants to apologize and run to Cas and engulf him in his hugs, cover him with kisses and love. But he doesn’t. Why? He doesn’t know.

Cas stills his face. He knows Dean doesn’t mean any of it. He knows it is just Dean’s defense mechanism. No matter how hurt the words are to him, he understands. He tries not to let the words affect him and calmly says to Dean, “Dean. That’s not what I mean. I just want to say that you don’t have to always be there. Garth can handle it; Ash can handle it. Hell, even Benny can handle it. You know I’m right.” Cas sighs. “Let’s just sleep it off, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow when we are calm.”

“Calm? I’m calm now. Why don’t we finish the talk now? Just go over with this.”

“Dean. No. I’m tired, and based on your temper, I bet you are too. Let’s just go to bed, okay?”

“You know what Cas, you ain’t my babysitter, you ain’t my parents, and you ain’t my brother. You sure as hell ain’t my fucking family based on how you are always against me.” Dean spits the words to Cas. He grabs his keys, and gets out of the apartment. “I’m going out. Don’t wait for me.”

Ahh yes, so he remembers. The buzzing of the phone inside his pocket gets him out of his reverie.

5 miss calls from Cas.

14 messages from Cas.

*incoming call from Cas*

Why the fucking hell is Cas calling him? He tells him not to wait. Dean lets the call goes to voice mail and gulps the rest of the whiskey. He keeps downing his pain away with whiskey and beers until the bartender cuts him off and sends him home.

When he arrives at home—how the hell does he manages that he doesn’t know—the house is silent. He figures Cas is already in bed. He goes to the bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights. As much as Dean is infuriated with Cas, he still loves his head still intact for their next conversation. He goes to the bathroom, washes the putrid smell away and gets ready for bed. When he reaches the bed, he notices the bed is empty. ‘where is Cas?’

Suddenly, he sobers up. “Cas? This is not funny dude. Where are you?” no answer. He checks his phone. The last phone call from Cas is two hours ago. He checks the messages.

From Cas:

Dean?

Dean?? Where are you?

Dean I’m worried here.

Please come home babe. I love you

I’m sorry Dean

Please come home.

Okay let’s talk now okay?

Dean, please answer my call. Please dean I’m getting worried here

I’m sorry I didn’t mean to belittle your success or anything. I just want you. I want to spend more time with you. I miss you being at home, watching Dr. Sexy together. I want you to be happy. Last few weeks you haven’t spent time with me. I miss your laugh and smile. I miss you. Please come home

I’m so so sorry dean. If you are happier spending time in the garage, that’s okay too. I still love you. I’m so sorry if I’m acting like a spoiled child or anything. I just miss you a lot. But I’m okay if you find your happiness in the garage. Maybe I can go there visit you at lunch and dinner and we can eat together. I love you dean. Please don’t leave me hanging. Please answer my call. Please tell where you are?

Are you at the Roadhouse?

I’m going there okay. Stay where you are

Don’t go anywhere okay, dean. I don’t want you to be in an accident or anything.

God please I hope you’re not in accident

I love you. Wait for me.

The messages are two and forty-five minutes ago. Dean feels acid in his stomach. Where is Cas then? If he is going to the Roadhouse, it should not take him more than 20 minutes to reach there. Suddenly, his phone is ringing. He doesn’t bother reading the name, he slides answers.

“Cas? Cas! Where are you dude? I’m at home now. Come back here.”

“Mr. Winchester?” a female voice calls him.

“you’re not Cas.”

“Are you Dean Winchester?”

“Yeah that’s me.” He answers cautiously.

“I’m from Memorial Hospital. There is just a man named Castiel Winchester admitted to the ER. Are you his husband?”

“What? Why is Cas in the hospital?” he feels the acid back in his stomach in full force.

“There is an accident happening in the intersection. Can you come to the hospital……” Dean does not register any of the words now. He feels dumbfounded. Cas is in the hospital. Cas. His husband. Dean grabs his keys and race to the hospital as fast as possible.

The policeman explains that Cas is going in the intersection when a truck slams into him. Apparently, the truck’s brake is broken so it cannot stop in time for the red light.

The doctor says that Cas has a broken leg, couple of broken ribs, and brain damage. The doctor says there is no guarantee what happens next. The doctor says he can’t say when Cas will wake up from his coma.

Dean just sits beside Cas’ bed and listen to all of them. He is not in the state of shock. He just feels numb. He sees Cas in the hospital bed. He seems so small now, with all the casts and bandages. What hurts Dean more is, Cas is still smiling. Even in pain, he still smiles for Dean. As if saying, “It’s okay Dean. It’s not your fault. I still love you.”

He knows Cas will wake up. And when he does, he will do his damnest to do whatever to make Cas happy. He will stay with Cas no matter what happens with him. He never wants to see the hurt look in Cas’ face ever again. He will cut his hours at his garage and start to spend time with him, spoiling him with food, kisses, affection and love. But for now, he is going to stay beside Cas, holding his hands, saying, “I love you too, Cas. And I will wait for you, love.”

~fin

[goldenduskvalentines]

Diabolik Lovers Eternal Blood Vol 3: Kou Mukami [English Translation]

I tried to translate the eternal blood audio 🌹

Track 1:

Kou: What’s that? They are very lively there. Ah it's a wedding, there are many at this time. Very soon it will be February 14, the day of lovers. In this country, there are many people who propose and get married on that day; but since almost everything is reserved for that date so there are couples who get married before that date. How long do you think we have been in this country? It is normal for me to know that. I have visited many countries with you, but this is where we have stayed longer. I got used to it; although that does not mean that I have forgotten the Mukami house.

Kou (0:57): That day I gave up my precious eye and separated from Ruki and the others; I have not forgotten my debt to that person and even now I treat Ruki and the others like my brothers. But since you are the most important person for me, I don't regret anything. Just being by your side makes me happy. Thank you. It does feel nice to love and be loved. Oh ... Look I was wondering why they were so excited and it's because the newlyweds are kissing passionately. Hey, do we give each other a sweet~ kiss that doesn't lose to theirs? I mean, it’s rare to not be overly sweet here. Look around, there are only couples here.

Kou (1:59): Again saying ambiguous phrases, it's more exciting when people see us~ *kiss* If you put that face I will not be able to stop, you know. Should I kiss you until you're satisfied? Or do you prefer to be hugged in this way? Or... would you prefer a much more shocking pain? Should I give you my fangs now? Just kidding, there’s no way I'm not going to do that, were you shocked? Sorry, sorry, don't get mad. The wind is starting to get strong so let's go back, I'm hungry too.

Kou (3:01): Eh? Did you want me to keep flirting? It shows in your face. But we cannot be cold, we will continue at home, alright?

Kou (3:21): I'm full, I ate a lot today. But, M-Neko-Chan, the food you prepare is very delicious; it’d waste to leave anything. Eh? Really? I didn't realize I was eating so fast ... It must be an old bad habit. When I was in that house, lunchtime was a battle, we had to fight for the last bite, especially with Yuma; we fought many times. Ruki-kun did not participate, but sometimes Azusa-kun also did, he could not lower his guard.

Kou (4:10): Now that I remember it, everything was very lively ... No, it's not that I want to go back, I just got nostalgic, I like those noisy days, but I also like my current life. I can eat everything you cook and I can monopolize you too. I have been able to walk through different places and see different blue skies, take photos and make a lot of memories. I am very happy right now. As usual, you always worry a lot, M-Neko-Chan. It seems that to avoid that, I will have to show you more affection.

Kou (5:01): Are we continuing this afternoon’s warm kiss? There is no one here so you should not be ashamed, but I also like that reaction. Now that I think about it, this afternoon's wedding was amazing. The people of this country do like to celebrate couples, not only with weddings, in all stores they sold a lot of letters with love messages, also gifts, cakes, alcohol, stuffed animals and bouquets. It is as if they would sell all the typical gifts to show love. Hey, did you know? It seems that restaurants also cooperate to give surprises, take care of your gifts and prepare special desserts. It seems that other stores also have such services. If there is an engaged couple or a married couple, they give them a special gift.

Kou (6:04): Do you remember? In a store we entered we were given a gift. Yes, this, this, we only went to buy, but as you accompanied me they gave us this cute toy kitten. And it was a cat, they definitely hit the spot. When I have the toy cat nearby I cannot distinguish which of the two is M-Neko-Chan, they are the same. They are the same when it comes to being cute, although the real one is much prettier. I know, taking advantage of the fact that we are in this country we should have fun on Valentine's Day. It is the day when men show their love for women; so I will do whatever you want M-Neko-Chan.

Kou (7:04): Hey, what do you want me to do? Hm ... So you will say that ... I am telling you that I, Kou, will do what you want and you do not intend to ask me anything? Of course, that is a ring I made for you and it is unique in the world, I know it made you happy and I also know that you are worried about our money. But I want to make you much happier. Hey, don't get up, stay still. You don't seem to know how much I want to make you happy, so from now on I'll show you.

Kou (8:04): Why are you trying to escape? Ah, are you rejecting my proposals on purpose so that I treat you badly? You really are a kitten who loves to be pampered, don’t worry, I will pamper you a lot *laugh* you liked to be caressed in this way, right? Try purring like a cat. Hey? What happened? It doesn't tickle you, right? Cats like to have their throat stroked. Come on, come on; Show me how happy you are. I see, aren't you pleased that I'm just caressing you? Yes, you are greedy M-Neko-Chan. Well, I will also kiss you sweetly. *kiss*

Kou (9:11): For someone who says they don't like it, you had a rather cheerful voice. Come on, you’re face is red. Don't be ashamed and just admit it, I'll do what you want. Are you sure you don't need anything? Even though it seems like you're melting just by being caressed sweetly? Hey, do you want me to tell you what expression you have now? You are looking at me with wobbly eyes and your breathing is warm. Such a small touch is not enough to please you, right?

Kou (10:01): Tell me what do you want? Or do you want to stop everything now? Look, you let yourself go, you can't take it right? I also love that side of you. Your delicate skin looks very delicious and gives off a very sweet smell. Now that I remember, today there was no dessert, I feel like having something sweet ... Hey, hurry up and tell me ... what do you want me to do to you? Understood, feel me a lot. *bite*

Kou (11:16): You seem to enjoy it, but it's still not enough right? It's not enough for me either, I can't contain myself before such a delicious dessert, give me more. *bites* as I thought, your blood is the best.

Oh *gasps* *laughs*Hey, are you aware that as you are moving your pajamas are going down? How good did it feel to suck your blood? You don't have to hide it; I’m the only one here. Also, I will be able to suck more easily if there is more exposed skin.

Kou (12:20): I'm really kind. What face will you put if I nail my fangs in an area as soft as this? I won't wait, hurry up and show me your seductive face. *bites* I am very excited; you can hear how your pulse increases, it is as if it said to me “drink more”. Your blood has become sweeter, it feels good doesn't it? Ah ... how you moved a lot the cat fell. Hey look, the cat is watching us, is watching your deplorable face.

Kou (13:27): The sweet smell has become stronger; I knew you liked to be looked at. You get excited even if a stuffed animal looks at you. Hey no, then we can pick it up. Don't get distracted, focus on me. Just look at me. Good girl~ show more of yourself to just me. What you wish, what you want, I will give you everything. Where should I bite now? Your clavicle? Your shoulder or your arm? I will leave as many marks as you want. Understood, you liked getting bitten on your shoulder with a bit of force, right? That’s fine; I will give it to you good. *bites*

Kou (14:51): Does it feel so good? You are not containing your cute voice. No problem, I’m the only one here. Wait a little *kisses your wound* ... Yes, with this the wound has already closed. Vampire saliva can heal, there were no marks left on the other parts so relax. Ah, I am really a kind boyfriend. There you should agree; after all I bit in different parts. Ah ... When you actually tell me that I am kind, I get embarrassed you know? This is a punishment for making me blush, I did not plan to do this to you, but now I will leave you a kiss mark. *kiss*

Kou (15:54): It looked good. You are also happy to have a mark that proves that you are mine, right? There is nothing wrong, you should let the humans of the city see it, so they will know immediately that we are a couple and could give us different special services. Hey, let me give you something for Valentine's Day; I want to do it. I want to increase our memories, can I? All right! I couldn't know what you wanted, but I'll think of something. Look forward to that day. *yawns*

Kou (16:45): Your body is very warm, maybe after the pleasure of before it has warmed up. Hey, I want to sleep hugging you. Thanks~ good night...

Kou: *walking* as expected, the center is full of couples. That is a secret, it is necessary for you to enjoy it. We are almost there, follow me. You can see it, it's that store.

Track 2:

Kou (0:35): What's up? Why are you so shocked? Were you surprised? You once said you wanted to come so reserve a table here. Well, it is a famous store, because of that; it is more crowded than ever. It seems that today they have already had about four hundred visitors. No, I won't tell you. It would be boring if I told you how I got a table. Look, they are bringing the food. Although it is a complete course, I

let them prepare something you like so wait for it anxiously. Yes, I made a few changes to the full course as always. I told you before, didn't I? That today restaurants make different types of services.

Kou (1:27): Oh don't take off the lid, I'll take it out. The main thing is the style, but I also prepared this, what I most wanted to give you is this. Were you surprised? Normally one would not expect to see a bouquet of roses on a plate, right? Hey, come here. Take, these are my feelings, would you accept them? You are welcome. I'm glad you liked it. Do you remember when we first met? I gave you a bouquet of flowers, at that moment I made a strange face, didn't I? I can't forget that ... Even for me, receiving a bouquet of roses is incredible.

Kou (2:26): And you even give me anything in return, just when I bothered to go buy them. At that time, you really were an expert in avoiding my kindness. Just kidding~ the bouquet of flowers that I am giving you today is different from that of that time. Of course I am also different from last time. I prepared a surprise to see you happy; it is very different from when I gave one to you without any feelings, right? I'm glad you think that way too, right, look at the flowers well. They have a letter so take it out. Ah, but be careful, I think you already know my personality, but--

Kou (3:21): Ah ... Aah ... are you alright? Roses have thorns so you must be careful. Pass me your hand, your finger is bleeding, and also the palm of your hand. You hurt yourself more than I thought, I will heal you so do not move. *lick* Hey, stay still, you also have wounds on your fingertips. *lick* you made many small wounds, I can heal them immediately, but did the letter catch your attention? I imagined it, it was for this that I put the letter, it went well. Don't get mad; today is the day when men give gifts to women, right? It makes you happier to get things like this, right?

Kou (4:22): Not only kindness, you also like to be disturbed a little, right? *laughs*that expression, I guessed right? Ready, healing is over; your wounds don't hurt anymore, right? Well, I was able to drink your delicious blood, let's start eating.

Kou (4:59): *eating happily* All the dishes are delicious! The main dish is too delicious; I’m beginning to understand why it is so difficult to reserve a table. *eats* Hm? What are you laughing at? Of course, being able to eat until you are satisfied is something to be happy for, right? Especially if you are by my side; we can laugh together and spend fun hours together. It would be weird not to be happy like that. Long ago, I would never have imagined that I could have such a life. It's really mysterious. When did these happy days begin?

Kou (5:56): Even now I haven't forgotten him, the dark life in the sewer or the stormy days at the orphanage ... Not even the time I was with Ruki-kun, nor when I met you and I was upset about not knowing what love was. When did it start to change? How was it that after living like this, I started laughing so much? Is it okay to be so happy?

Kou (6:31): It's a joke, a joke, don't put that face on. I just wanted to say it. Let's eat before it cools. *eats happily*

Kou: The restaurant was great. It's true, I was surprised that it was so delicious; it made me want to eat all dessert, ice cream and compotes. It seems that you enjoyed it too; so it is a victory. But the day is not over yet, there are many stores in the mall so let's go shopping date. All right! It’s decided, but if there is a specific shop that you want to see just tell me. There is a lot of boutique, ah, there are some accessories store, and that’s a bookstore ... Did you find a store you want to see? You don't have to get so complicated. I will help you find a place. Let me see ... What do you think of that boutique? It seems that they sell things that can be of your liking, let's take advantage and buy something.

Track 3:

Kou (1:13): Eh? You do not have to worry about money, I told you before, I have several savings from when I was an idol, and then we will decide if you will buy something or not; at least let’s pass by to see if you want to try something. Yes. Then let's enter. Even so, today if there are many people in each store, hold my hand so that we don’t get separate, and come here. When we walk like this, I just let myself go, today is a special day after all. I like to walk holding your hand; it makes me feel like I could walk anywhere.

Kou (2:00): Eh? Did I say something very strange? I really think that ... Well no matter, for now let's look at the store.

Kou (2:17): You really don't want to buy it? That dress really looked great on you ... You contain yourself too much, you don't have to worry about money. I also want to give you more gifts. I'm glad you like the clothes you're wearing now, but since I always see you, I would like to see you wear something different ... Oh, I know, if it’s okay, why don’t you try something on? So could you try on a wedding dress? Near here there is a special service where you can change your clothes and take pictures with this set; I will also wear the pair so let's take a picture together.

Kou (3:11): What's up? Are you not interested in the dress? Oh, then that’s fine, if you like it then there's no problem, right? That’s fine~ that sometimes you ask for something, it is also a request of mine. I would really like to give you an appropriate ceremony like the one we saw before in the city, but as we are travelling the world we may never have that opportunity, but I will feel sad if I never give you the opportunity to wear that dress, so when least I want to have a picture of it and make it one of our memories, is it no good? Really? Thank you! Then let's go to the store.

Kou (4:14): Wow ... I hadn't noticed it from the outside, but there is a great variety, there are many designs of dresses. The A-line design is quite cute and simple, but one with more puffs may seem more like a wedding ... Is there a dress you like? Ah! I like that one too! I'm sure you will look good; the tester is at the bottom so go try it on. Go on then ~

Kou (5:52): Yes, it looks great on you, how should I put it? You look so beautiful that I can't express it in words. Is it because the dress is completely white that you look dazzling? *laughs* you don't have to be ashamed, look in the mirror. You see? Where do I even find a more amazing bride? At one glance, one will see something so pure but they don’t to know how dirty it is to be in love with a vampire like me. It is true that purity and dress fit you well, but as I know perfectly the expression you put when I suck your blood the impact diminishes. This dress also shows a lot of skin, look, here.

Kou (4:57): * opens the curtain of the fitting room * How is it? Did you wear it? Don't raise your voice so much, it's just me. Calm down. Uhm? Well, I came to see how it fit; the groom-to-be also has to like the dress, right? It's also hard to wear just one dress so I thought I could help you, but it seems you were fine. Calm down, don't get mad, did you know? This is a tester for couples; I also told the people in the store that I wanted to commit to my girlfriend so please do not interrupt so no one will come. More important let me see, lower your arms, don't hide.

Kou (7:01): I healed your wounds the last time I bit you, but there is a slight red mark. Hey, even if you're wearing this white dress, if I nailed my fangs, would you fall? Do you want to try? There is nothing wrong, we are only ones here. Where should I bite you? Behind the neck, around here? *kiss* How is it? Do you want me to bite? Or would you prefer on the back of the neck? It could also be on the shoulder or forearm, wedding dresses show a lot so it makes it easy to suck blood. What happened? You are shaking. Are you afraid of not knowing when I will bite you?

Kou (8:01): Or did you start wishing my fangs? It's true; it would be terrible if the dress was stained with blood. Well the, I'll take it off. Come on, stay still. *laugh* It's just a joke; I couldn't help but make a little fun. I'm sorry, but it wasn't a joke when I said I wanted to drink your blood, seeing you dressed as a bride made me want to hug you and steal you. I knew it was a good idea to try on the dress. Hey, for now I will endure the urge to drink your blood so at least let me kiss you. *kiss*

Kou (9:04): Heh~ Thank you. If it takes me too long they will start to suspect so let's leave soon, the people in the store must be waiting, I will change soon and then we will take the picture. Ah, but since I'm going to hold on for now, then I'll take a lot of your blood later, okay?

*photo session *

Track 4:

Kou: Come on, come on, look forward and smile. Why are you still so tense? If you are too aware that you are taking pictures you will get more nervous, just relax like usual. Yes, that's good. Ah, he says that now he'll take one together so I'm going to join you. *he approaches you* we’ll take one together so you can be less nervous than before, yes? W-why are you more tense than before? Wow, did you shocked by watching me? You can blush how much you want. We’ll take a special service. *hugs you* If we are hugging, we look more romantic, right?

Kou (1:01): You're all red and cute. Excuse me; this is a good opportunity so take the photo please. *take photos* He took them. Let's stay like this for him to take more photos; I'll keep many photos of you blushing. *laugh* It's to celebrate a beautiful date so that's fine isn't it?

*after the photo session*

Kou (1:33): We spent a lot of time taking pictures. We were standing all the time so your legs hurt, right? Let's sit there for a moment. I'm tired~ but it was fun to see different expressions of yours. Hey don't get mad, you looked very pretty blushing, so don't worry. I know! Why don’t we look at the photos from before? Hurry up~ don’t you want to see them? *take them out* these are very beautifully taken~ look, those where you go out alone are very beautiful. At first you looked very nervous, but as time goes by you were having more fun. Look, in this photo very happy. When I bothered you, you put on a very pretty expression, you're all red.

Kou (2:36): Oh, just look at them well. This is very good, it is the last one they took, it seems that we were in a true wedding ceremony. Really? I’m an idol so it's normal; that's what I would like to say, but I'm glad you praised me. Unlike the pictures taken at work, the ones I took with you was a lot of fun. When I see these photos I think that I would really like you to dress like a true bride...

Kou (3:16): I suddenly left the house where Ruki and the others were. I don't know when that person will punish me. I can't prepare a ceremony while we go around the world, but girls dream of one, don't they? I wish I could fulfill that dream someday… huh? Why? You also looked happy to wear that dress and when we saw that wedding your eyes were shining. Do not hold back with me; if there is something you want or something you want to do just tell me, that I can grant it to you if I can ... Why are you so modest? You really don't want anything?

Kou (4:13): Eh? I-that's unfair ... “it's enough to have me by your side” ... What am I supposed to say in a situation like this? You are very unfair ... since you always accept my feelings easily ... This nomadic life will continue until we find a place where we can live in peace and we do not know if we will find it or if there is even such a place. We do not know what will happen next. We don't know what will happen ... that's why we may not be able to celebrate a wedding or cast votes ... Are you still okay with that? Don't just settle like that...

Kou (5:15): Ah ... today I wanted to be cool in front of you, but in the end I was the one who was tamed. Even if I make a lot of preparations, in the end your words are much stronger. That's right, preparations. It's nothing to hide anymore; I guess I can tell you. You remember I got a table in a very popular restaurant, right? How do you think I did it? At first, since that place was very popular, I couldn't get a table, but I talked to the head of the restaurant and when I told him that I wanted to commit to my girlfriend there, he managed to get me a table. And about the store before, the truth is that I had already gone there several times and I got along with the boss and I started to see some of the dresses that did not sell.

Kou (6:15): Today, I wanted it to be a great day to be able to make you happy. Heh~ Strive so that another person will be happy is something that the old me would never have done. Am i very pathetic? *laugh* I knew you would say that. Hey, turn here. *kiss* I'm glad that you liked it. Your smell has become sweeter. So, this kind of thing also makes it more delicious ... Hey, I want really you too much right now.

Kou (7:14): Yes, I will pamper you a lot after having contained myself. Hey, let's go behind that store.

Kou (7:29): No one will see us here. Oh ... but you liked it better if they looked at you, right? “What will I do if someone passes by?” Just kidding~ Relax. Look, just touching you already takes me to the limit, hey what about you? I guess I don't need to ask, your body is very hot, besides ... Just by lightly touching your skin you react. You can tell me what you want, okay? Today is a special day so I will give you anything.

Kou (8:29): What do you want me to do? If you don't say it, I will still don’t know. Good girl. Well said, as a reward I will bite you deeply, this time let me dominate you. *bite*

Kou (9:08): It's very delicious. Not only from your neck, from your ear, your cheek, your collarbone. I can feel your sweet scent coming from your whole body. That sweet scent of your blood is tempting me, I can’t resist anymore. I will give you the greatest pleasure that has ever existed. *bites*Heh~ If you raise your voice too much someone might realize. For now it's fine, but someone could really come here. So, hold on. I can't let anyone else see you when you look so cute. Your face seems to be melting ... I am the only one who can see you like this.

Kou (10:15): What's up? Did you react like that just because I told you cute? It was worth today's date, then~ have you fallen in love with me again? If so, then I will give you a special gift, I will nail my fangs so deeply that you cannot think of anyone but me. *bites*

Kou (10:59): See in your head it's just me, isn't it? With how sincere you are. Hey, I want to do more things to you. Yes, hold on tight. Contain your voice. If that makes you happy, then I'll give you something more shocking. You don't need to think about anything, just look at me. I will nail my fangs in each part of you and give you pleasure; I will give it to you until you are satisfied. *kiss*

Track 5:

Kou: We were there longer than I thought. Although, after sucking your blood I should let you rest. Is it because of before I am somewhat clueless? The sun is still high but do you want us to come home? If you want we can continue with the before. Heh~ you are very flushed, what's up? Did you remember the one earlier? If you are so lively then you are still fine. It is still late for nightfall. So, are we still shopping? The truth is that there is something else I want to show-- Ah? Rain? It seems that it will get strong, for now let's go under that store. *starts to rain*

Kou (0:55): We managed to avoid getting too wet, are you cold? I see. That’s a relief. Ah ... every time it rains harder, it seems like a lie that it was sunny before. Even if it is a special day, what a bad luck ... Is it because I got too excited? N-I just thought of something stupid. “Is it my fault that it started to rain?”

Kou (1:33): I really had fun today ... N-no, it's that the preparations for today were fun. Imagining that you would be happy; I ended up going from one place to another and today you reacted more than usual. I waited and you gave me words that made me very happy. We even pretended that we were getting married ... I'm really so happy that ... somewhere in my heart I asked myself “Is it okay for me to be so happy?” “How long will this happiness last?” “When will it end?” I left Ruki-kun and the others behind. I betrayed that person, there is no way I can be happy forever...

Kou (2:31): N-did it have started to rain and remind me? That happy hours end quickly ... I-I just, the rain was just a coincidence. I know I'm thinking too much, but I dislike it. Even though I've spent such happy days, a rain like this changes my mood so much ... Even though I have seen so many skies and made so many memories inside me there is still an some concerns ... “Won’t this happiness end at some point ...?” I'm sorry I said something weird, after saying so much that I wanted to give you what you wanted, I ended up being very pathetic...

Kou (3:32): Huh? W-what's up? Why do you hold my hand? “It's okay” Why? It won't be right if the happy times are over. *you start running with him by the hand* E-wait, where are we going? We are going to get wet! Ah, we are soaked. What will you do if you catch a cold? Let's hurry up and come back. How is it ok? I am a vampire so I will be fine, but you will not be. How will you be fine if you are so soaked? Y-Hmm ... you said it before ... it was enough for you to be by your side...

Kou (4:28): Eh? Why? How? How can you say that so easily? “If you're with me I wouldn't mind being unhappy.” As I thought, you are very unfair. *hugs you* Hey, earlier as I said, very hectic days await you. Bad things could happen, but even so, will you stay by my side? Yes ... in that case I wouldn’t be afraid; if you stay by my side I feel that I can endure anything.

Kou (5:26): It's strange; the words you give me manage to dissolve my concern. Today, I am supposed to give you gifts but I ended up receiving it. You always cheer me up, it's because you’re like this, that I don't want to let you go. I want to do anything to make you happy. Now that I remember, on Valentine's Day not only gifts are given, but it is also a day where love for the other is confirmed. If that’s the case, then I suppose we had a worthy celebration. Yes, I guess getting wet wasn't bad either.

Kou (6:31): Eh? The rain stopped. Seriously, the timing is way too good; does the rain really react to how I feel? Huh? What happened? Eh?

Kou (6:53): There is a rainbow! Yes, it is very beautiful; it is perfect for the blue sky. “After the passing rain, wonderful things await you,” I don't remember in which song they said that phrase, but now I understand what it means. No matter what the future awaits, let's get over it together and then I'm sure we can see a sky that beautiful, right? I feel like I could walk anywhere. Let me slowly return the feelings

you have given me today, not only on Valentine's Day, but every day. I want to go to many places, see different landscapes and make many memories. So ... would you accompany me?

Kou (8:06): Thank you. That's right; if I am by your side I feel that I can move anywhere. Whether it's sunny or rainy days, I won't doubt it, let's be happy forever. *kiss*

[demonsofhunting]

The Shiver - Chapter 1

Pairing: hunter!Dean x witch!Cas

Summary: Castiel Novak is having a peaceful life. Well, as peaceful as a life within a coven can be. Things are starting to get out of control as their High Priestess, Ellen Harvelle, confronts him with her worries that there could be traitors among them...

Warnings: fluff, some angst

Words: 1400

A/N: Welcome to this mini series! *screeching* This idea hit me like a train and I had to make something out of it! I hope you'll enjoy this short journey as much as I do! ♡ There are a few parts in progress. In fact I don't know yet, in how many parts I'll split this story, but we'll see...

{ I love the Harvelles, so I had to include them into this story as witches...XD }

I hope you'll like it! Enjoy! <3

It's a cold, dark night. He is running through empty streets, a foreign creature right behind him. It chases him, wants him to give up, wants to taste his flesh.

Not today!

He escalates, breathing, heavily. His footsteps are a loud, static noise that echoes in his ears, firmly. A cold breath is sweeping over his neck, making him feel dizzy. He's stumbles, falls to the ground.

That's it.

The next thing he feels are the heavy claws of a monster made out of shadows, slicing his throat. Pain pulses through his body, he tries to scream, but there's too much blood, spilling on the ground...

"Jesus Christ!" Castiel cries out, sitting up, rapidly. His hands are going to his throat, his eyes are wide, and filled with pure fear.

His heart races, and he looks around in despair.

He's in his room, sitting on his bed. It's messy as always, a lot of different stuff is lying around. And plants.

So many plants.

They're covering every inch on the top of Cas' shelves, making it look like he's surrounded be leaves.

Someone chuckles behind him. It's a familiar noise.

It takes Cas a moment to realise.

Then his shoulders are relaxing, slowly, and he growls: "Really, Jo? Are you serious?! I almost had an heart attack!"

Jo Harvelle laughs, running one hand through her soft blonde locks. She's wearing a cute dress in a dark colour, her eyes are shining in the sunlight that falls through the room's window.

Castiel sighs, and falls back into his bedsheets. He chuckles.

"How did you do that? That was a real nightmare!" he moans, covering his red face with his hands.

Jo sits down next to him, ruffling his black hair.

"Practice. And talent, of course," she hums with a wide smile on her lips, "I though you could use a good scare. Still afraid of monsters, huh? My poor, little Castiel!"

"Stop it!" he yells, pulling her hands away, firmly, "Someday, I'll scare the shit out of you!"

She laughs: "Promise?"

"Promise," Cas says, nodding.

"Okay. C'mon. Mum wants to talk to us," she says, raising her eyebrows.

The other sighs: "Oh no. What did you do? I told you to stay at home last night and not go to that stupid party - "

"Shush. It was fun. I'm pretty good at sneaking out. I'm sure that she doesn't know about it. It must be something else..." Jo interrupts him, thoughtfully, "C'mon!"

Then she walks out of the room, just leaving a smell of roses behind her. Cas pulls himself up again. He leaves his bed, and throws on some clothes. Then he steps into the floor, walking through it until he reaches the kitchen of the house.

Ellen Harvelle is cleaning the dishes with firm gestures, her brown hair bobs up and down, stroking her shoulders.

She's the perfect, relaxed picture of a High Priestess who lives in this century. She has many responsibilities within the coven, but it's like she found the perfect balance between her task and her free time. Ellen tries her best, but she wants to be treated like every other witch in the house.

And it works.

We're kind of a democracy here.

Jo is already sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea. She rolls her eyes as Cas enters the room, and nods to an empty seat on her side.

Castiel sits down, slowly.

"Morning," he says, yawning.

Ellen turns around. She smiles, lightly.

"Hey. It took you a while, huh?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well," Cas begins, but she interrupts him, quickly.

"I'm not here to rebuke you. You have done great in the last weeks, both of you. I'm proud of you for doing your best to be inconspicuous. Trust me, it's better this way, even if people aren't as mean to witches as they were back then in the middle ages, but...some of them will never change. Some of us too. There were a couple of murders happening in our town within the last days. I'm pretty sure that it's one of our coven who tries to be 'rebellious'. What leads me to my question: Who do you think it is?"

"Oh," Cas stutters, his mouth falling open, "You think, if you don't stop this witch, there could be...hunters coming into our town...?"

Worries are circling in his head, his heart begins to ache. He only encountered a hunter once before. Back then, this one murdered his whole family. Castiel was the only one who could save himself.

At this time he was five years old.

That was twenty years ago. Since then, he stays with the Harvelle's and the rest of their coven at an old villa near the forest. This villa became his home, and he feels good in it.

I don't want to lose that. We need to stop this stubborn witch until we all need to pay for that person's mistakes!

He shivers. Jo looks pretty uncomfortable too.

"Yes," Ellen says, seriously, "That's exactly what I think."

Jo tilts her head, closing her eyes.

"Maybe Henry. He would be very likely to do something like that," she mutters, taking another sip of her tea.

Cas thinks about the creepy, old man that hates 'normal people' and spends the last years of his life looking out of the window, talking to birds.

"Yeah," he says, "That could be. What about Benny?"

"Nah," Ellen contradicts, "Benny is such a sweetheart. He wouldn't do something like that."

As if she called for it, a tall man enters the room. He smiles, waving.

"Hey," he greets, walking to the counter, attempting to make some coffee.

"Morning, Benny," Jo calls, looking at Cas with a shrug.

Castiel chuckles. There's a reason why he and Jo are best friends, even if she's a few years younger than him. They don't need words to communicate.

"Ellen," Cas begins under his breath, "What if Jo and I would take a closer look at the other witches' rooms, maybe we will find something that leads to black magic."

Jo nods, shooting her mother a look, begging.

Ellen sighs, leaning forth.

"Okay. But first, you'll have to buy some new herbs for me. I already ordered them, they must be at the shop. I'll try to find an excuse for a coven meeting, so that you can take a look into the rooms without being interrupted," she gives in.

Cas smiles.

"Sure," he says.

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

"My mum loves you. You have these puppy eyes that make her weak," Jo says with amusement in her voice as they're walking down a crowded street that is lined with different shops.

Cas shrugs.

"I'm a nice guy," he says, trying his best to balance the tons of bags on his shoulders.

Ellen didn't say that she ordered tons of different herbs...

"I know - oh look! They sell crystals over here!" Jo shouts in excitement, already making her way over to the shop she was talking about.

Cas sighs and tries to follow her, without running someone over.

Surprisingly, it's Jo who crashes right into another person. She squeeks, falling to the ground.

"Jo!" Cas shouts, trying to get as fast to her as he can. Suddenly, he hesitates.

There's already somebody who helps his friend up. It's the man which she crashed into.

Holy shit.

Even for this distance, Cas can see how handsome he is. He has soft hair in the colour of light brown...no, it's not just 'light brown'.

As the sunlight hits its tips, it's shining like mild honey, mixed with something that Cas isn't capable of finding out.

The young man wears a flannel and ripped jeans.

Castiel can't see his face right now, but he's pretty sure that it must be like staring into the sun. The look on Jo's face says it all.

She smiles, widely, her eyes are shining like bright stars, as she flips her hair over her shoulder with a wink, while talking to the stranger.

Then the man leaves, and the young woman can't help but stare after him.

Cas walks over to her.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asks, carefully. He swallows: "Who, who was that guy?"

Jo shakes her head, smiling like an idiot.

"Oh god, Cas! He was hot as hell," she answers with a dreamy sigh.

"Wow," the other bursts out.

She nods: "Yeah. He was so pretty that I felt like I could cry."

"Did - Did you get his number or something like that?" Cas mutters, shifting uncomfortably.

What is wrong with me? I feel like someone just threw me into a pot with hot water, just to drown me in one with icy cold liquid!

Jo shakes her head, sadly.

"No," she says, catching his gaze, "I didn't. Wasn't the right time."

"But - but what if you'll never see him again? What, if you just missed your chance to be with the love of your life?" her friend stutters in surprise.

The young woman just smiles, patting his shoulder.

"No need to worry. If we're made for each other, then we'll encounter again. And again. Until we're meant to be together. I believe in that," she tells him, already turning around, "C'mon! Let's shop some pretty crystals!"

{ A/N: CHAPTER TWO♡ }

That was part one! Thank you so much for reading and if you would like to leave a comment or reblog this shit, I will love you forever! <3

Feel free to tell me if you found mistakes, too. I know that this is far from perfect. ♡

Tag lists are open!

Destiel/Forever Tags: @adoptdontshoppets @rebeloftheseas @ablavalba @smodernlife @ignis-glaciesque @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel @xsghn @trenchcoatsandfreckles @helpmeluci @legendary-destiel @leahslovelylibrary

"The Shiver" Tags: @angel-e-v-a ( thanks for encouraging me a lot about this story <3 ❤ ) @winchesterzforever

[thanatophobix-blog]

🖊 + all do it coward

Yelling about my OCs // ACCEPTINGRabbit, you are a fool and so am I. I’m just gonna, like… give a headcanon per OC on this blog under the cut.

Achilles - His semblance is called Disconsolate. It makes others able fully feel what he is feeling, from absolute sorrow, blind rage, to pure joy, right down to the last ounce of pain he gets from a paper cut. It can take over other people’s rational thinking processes and make them react as he would, which is often never good (and leads to his death).

Alexus - She doesn’t have any real senses, even if she says its a simulated thing, she has none. She’s a cpu program! HOWEVER, she can still smell charred flesh from when her girlfriend shocked & burned to death. It’s burned into her mind even though her mind can no longer comprehend what a sense is.

Artharrachadh - Doesn’t actually like 7/11 or gas stations, they just give off the vibe he strives for in life. The mystery, the scandals, the robberies. It’s so out in the middle of nowhere that its perfect. Although, thanks to 7/11 he developed an addiction to slushies. Cherry/blue raspberry, for our god of liminal spaces, baby!!

Cas - Her powers have limits. Without her power retaining equipment (essentially, a choker, two bracelets, and two ankles), she would have ripped herself into shreds after a few usages of her powers. Her speed could send her cells into different dimensions, her ‘pyrokinesis’ could set herself on fire since she is not impervious to fire, and if she uses her luck too much, karma returns the favor with brain bleeds.

Cephriel - As angelic as they are, they are more monstrous and demonic than they’d like to admit. They eat sinners alive for nourishment, but it is all for the holy conquest. Plus, the more souls they consume, the stronger they get. The stronger they get, the quicker they can accomplish the holy conquest.

Dolores - She really wanted to get back in touch with her son but she could never find him. She went back to LA looking for him only to find that he’d been adopted and shipped off to Germany. She felt so, so horrible. It’s her fault that he was sent off to a totally abusive household and she lives with that guilt so, so horribly.

Dominique - Has never once acted like a true criminal, more like a robin hood type figure. He doesn’t kill, he doesn’t hurt, he doesn’t do anything like that, the worst he does is steal from the rich and give to the poor. Either through charity donations or through mysterious wads of cash showing up at people’s houses. However, since he steals from the rich and not the poor, that makes him evil for the media.

Eirian - Has never been one for conflict. Avoided school drama all throughout high school (minus his tiff with Lizzie which was created by him being an idiot). Now he’s running from town to town with an eldritch being chasing after him with so many guns in the back seat of his truck its almost fucking criminal. He’s learned, so, so much combat things that it scares him. He’s practically a weapon himself.

Erik - Has the hardest time keeping the ‘we’re all monsters or demons’ secret a secret out of all of Clearfall’s citizens, and he’s the one that made the whole thing happen. Lucky for him, Corey Booker, the human reporter, is kinda dense. Unlucky for Erik, he thinks that Corey is hot shit and would gladly sell him his soul to stay in Clearfall. But, for Corey to stay in Clearfall, he’d have to be turned into either a werewolf or a vampire but he doesn’t want to do that because Erik’s both a wimp and doesn’t wanna hurt

Eva-Marie - In Hell, everyone wears the sign of how their died. People shot have their bullet wounds, knife wounds, the blood loss makes you incredibly lethargic and cold, sickness makes you permanently sick and tired, burning makes you always feel like you’re on fire, and maybe you are! But Eva-Marie doesn’t show signs of her death, or at least, not if you’re not paying attention. She has perfect posture and never lowers her head, the thick choker on her neck is blood red, sometimes she starts choking and coughing up blood. She was killed via beheading, and she takes perfect care to make sure that her head never falls off.

Fane - Has extreme commitment and attachment issues because of how many loved ones he has lost. He couldn’t save… anyone. When one of his last surviving relatives, his great great great great hella fucking great nephew, Lucas, died, he was there. Fane was teaching him how to drive and they got in an accident because Lucas couldn’t take his fucking foot off the gas because he was scared shitless and they got whacked by a semi and Fane has never, ever forgiven himself for that. Or any other of the deaths.

Florian - Is destined to become fully evil, and will thrive in that evil. He was never meant to be a florist, to live and survive off of cuddles on couches and cheap pays for a good job well done. At the end of the day, he has a strong sadistic streak that was never fulfilled as a child. Florian is all smiles and no substance on the inside, and was going to kill himself if he ever had to live another second in that flower shop doing nothing, that’s what the explosion was, an attempt to end it. Now? He’s soft and sweet on  the outside as a cover, and on the inside, he’s ready to seduce your husband and blow up your house.

Fritz - Doesn’t need to sleep and doesn’t sleep. You see, on his home planet, people move so fast that sleeping was essentially something of a social death sentence. Entire empires would rise and fall while one of them was asleep, your wife could start another family and leave you behind because you would be out cold for another millennia. SO! To bypass that, they engineered a serum that would alter their chemical makeup so they’d be constantly producing energy to replace sleep.

Henri - Does not miss being a royal. She knows that the second she gets back, she’ll be forced into an arranged marriage with a guy who a) she will never love because she is a lesbian to every degree and b) she hates anyway, the guy’s a fuckin’ douchebag to every degree. She just wants to stay in NYC with the punk rock and the grunge and the Crownweaver gig with her punk gf, Dex, and never look back.

Jack - Used to be a Team Spectre Admin. Dated Salem for years, was there when the whole team got launched under Salem’s reign. They were really, really into the whole thing too, believed that the world would be better if they could just wipe everyone’s memory clean and start over with the same people, but have everyone listen to a group ‘concerned about their health, their sanity and their well-being’. Eventually realized that it was all bullshit, all of it, shit, bullshit, and that Salem? Asshole! Shit boyfriend, shit person, shit… just shit. Left, went legit, went good.

Julia - Knows everything about you. She has no clairvoyance or telepathy or omniscience or anything like that, but she knows everything about you. She has connections, her connections have connections, she’s met practically everyone in town and if she doesn’t know everything about you when you first meet? You can be sure that she’s going to hunt down someone who at least knows something. She’s incredibly well informed, scarily well informed, and also good at social cues.

Kennedy - Killed a man in university. It was her first kill and by far, her favorite. The rush she felt, the understanding of why people murder for fun, it made her understand. She had a knife on hand, took it out of the restaurant she was eating at just beforehand and completely forgot about it, but she was glad she had it. She gutted him, top of the chest all the way down to the lower stomach, and she hanged him from a fire escape by his own intestines. He was coming onto her and she was not about that life, rest in peace, fucker.

Klaus-Michael - Has a really hard time hiding his job from his father, aka the Spider-Gold job. Yes, his father is in Germany and Klaus-Michael himself is in NYC, however, it is a requirement between the two that they have a video call once a week. He comes home after fighting off an army of bad guys with so many bruises and so many cuts and dings and busted lips and broken bones and casts and oxygen tanks that his dad should be suspicious, especially since his dad is a genius. But, Klaus-Michael always seems to have some sort of excuse tucked up his sleeve.

Liz - Finds Atlantis. She does! With help, she arrives, and, unlike the dis.ney movie, there is no one alive. Skeletons line the streets of the drowned city, the location is crumbling, and she is horrified. The haunted location gives her the creeps the second she is in there, and for good reason, because something  is watching her. Not something living, but machinery, and once it catches up to her, it brands her on her side for the rest of her life. A marking, a warning.

Lizzie - Has slight celestial heritage. Didn’t think Arhkangelskaya was chosen as her last name for a reason? It was! While she doesn’t have archangel blood per say, she has guardian angel blood, and that’s what brings her back (her ghost back) from the dead to look after Eirian’s dumb fucking ass. The guardian angel blood comes from her great grandfather who was her great grandmother’s guardian angel, ever since then, the arhkangelskayas have returned as ghosts to the person they feel needs the most help.

Lori - Is destined to die at the age of twelve. In a way, she feels invincible because who in their right mind would kill a child? She thinks, that, because she’s so young, nobody is gonna raise a finger against her when she walks in to kill them, because she thinks that they don’t think that she’s going to kill them! And then, one day, she realizes that everyone is an assassin and assassins don’t have rules, assassins just want money. And, on that day, that is when she dies.

Lukas - Is not out for anyone but himself and his town. If you die, and it’s his fault, it’s not on his conscience. He’s not here to fix your problems, even though he fixes way too many of them anyway, he’s here to get the money and go. He’s here to get enough cash to either buy enough medicine to last him and his hometown years and years and years, essentially ridding them of their poisoning, or, he is going to use that money to entice scientists to search for a cure. He’s tired of having slag course through his veins, it hurts, more than he likes to admit.

Lux -  Is not impervious to fire. If she emits it from her body, she only does so from her hands for this reason, she’s not some hum.an tor.ch lookin’ chick, she’s completely human to every regard and her powers are created by machines. She can use her powers of vibrating molecules to a frequency on objects that she is not holding that are within close range, but she can also ‘set the air on fire’ (more like oxidation). She doesn’t realise this, but its how she makes her fireballs. The palms of her hands are incredibly scarred.

Madeleine - Killed a man in self defense and nobody will ever, ever know about it. Or, at least, she hopes so. She doesn’t want anybody to find out about it, because she knows that she’d be sent to jail. Sure, it started out as self defense when the main pulled out a gun at her at semi-close range in an alley way after a case where she sent a criminal away for life and she stabbed him through the heart with her rapier. It was when she took the gun and the sword and started going overkill with panic that it became less about self defense and more like making sure that that guy would never come back. She got an old friend with connections to clean the scene.

Marque - Isn’t trying to provide chaos to provide the world with equal opportunity to rise from the ashes and anarchy as a new, better evolved race, he’s doing it so he can control Giratina and take over the Reverse World. If he takes control of the pokemon, then he is also, by default, the master of the Reverse World. If he allows other to live within the other dimension, he will become their leader by default. And, by causing chaos in Kalos, Sinnoh and the other regions, he will have more and more people wanting to move into the Reverse, gaining more and more subjects and more and more power.

Matthew - Will not be able to survive if he ever leaves the Entity’s realms. His body is emaciated beyond what should be humanly possible (not like the hag is, more like he’s 6′4″ and 90lbs) and he’s surviving based on the Entity alone. His blood is complete and utter drugs at this point and he’s fragile. He’s skeletal, but in the same way that b.ane works, the drugs kind of give him a boost? They give him the strength to keep moving, but he will die if all of them ever get out because he was only a little better than this before he got into the realms.

Myles - Is suffering from unknown internal damage thanks to the facial scar that he is unaware of. The deal with this is, the scar pushed the outer layer of metal inward and, while it hasn’t damaged any of his inner workings yet, if anything happens to his face… welp! A good hit to the cheek, falling head first, anything like that will push the sharp metal further inward and damage his internal wiring. This could potentially be fatal depending on how hard the hit is, or how many times he gets hit. He is very stunned after a good head injury.

Ollie - Is a little hypocrite His whole episode is about the importance of not doing drugs, but in itself, the episode really leans towards how ‘some drugs are good’. Big companies will gladly sponsor a tv show into corrupting the minds of children to think that certain drugs are alright to take by hiding information about them, just like the tobacco industry in the past with cigarettes. Ollie, the pill bottle filled with prescription drugs, may say that some are bad, but he himself offers the pills he contains to the members of the show, getting them addicted, like a fucking hypocrite.

Richard - Wants to move onto news reporting on television, but is held back by Thomas. Their personalities are incredibly similar thanks to the method of their creation, but Richard’s has always been a little bit louder and more personable and much, much more suited for news reporting. He’s always taken to celebrity incidents more, so he’d be suited for something like…. eta.lk or en.tertainment toni.ght. Plus, wouldn’t it be fun to report a death on tv that you caused?

Salem - Does not understand that he is in the wrong. Like, you know how some villains understand that to do some good things, you need to break a few eggs? And they deal with that guilt?? LIke uh, shit, like Negan had guilt on cheating on his wife and all that, like they can realize that they’ve done bad shit? Salem is so insecure that he projects all guilt and anger and anything wrong onto other people. World falling apart? People losing their families to memory loss? Not his fault, all yours.

Shae - Never wanted to be the hero. She’s watched too many superhero movies to see how it all turns out. Metr.oman? From Meg.amind? Yeah, she doesn’t wanna turn out like that, but she knows that she’ll burnout from all the people saving and all the heroics and that one day she might just have to kill her best friend so as sunshine-y as she is she’s always dealing with this black cloud that hangs over her head and heart and it hurts her that the world is always so in danger and she can only do so much. She wants to have a break.

Sinclair - Has never lived for himself. He only ever helps others. When Jack disappeared, he took it upon himself to defeat the Team Spectre residing within the League. He took over so that people could still experience the League even though he didn’t actually technically become the champion. After all that happens, he leaves to go help others because he has nothing else to live for, he doesn’t know what to do but help. Even as a child, he poured himself into others rather than building himself up.

The Boys - Used to travel the world to sate their hunger before fully settling in their new home, a now dead, formerly economically booming, rural town that still sees some people coming in. When they travelled, they were not known as the boys, more as The Figure, as they did not hivemind as much. It is only thanks to their new setting where they take place in the high school like to eat teenagers that they hivemind as seven different boys (the most they can manage with having separate personalities and appearances while still being connected).

Thomas - Once tried to have a family outside out of Richard without Richard knowing to see what it was like. They aren’t connected other than their purpose, so they share no hivemind, just basic personality. He soon realised that a family would not be for someone like him, as they would always die before him, leading him to fake his death so it’d make human sense. He lost track of where his descendants are now, however, he doesn’t care because he’s dependant on Richard.

Virgil - In Agents of Mayhem, Virgil becomes M. Squelette, the title gained when becoming the leader of the Ivory Skeletons. Either way, his Saints Row verse, he still was a member of that gang, but he left the gang life there to move to Stilwater and then got rescooped into it. He has a lot of Saints ink, the fleur de lis and all that shit, one on his neck, y’know. However, he has a piece of Skeletons ink that he refuses to blot out because its… really nice. Like the tattoo artist obviously worked really hard on it and as loyal as he is to the Saints, he also has a large respect for the arts so there is no way in hell he’ll blot out something so nice looking. Besides, he can just pass it off as something he got when he was drunk considering that he never talks about his time as a Skeleton to anyone.

Woodland - Learned how to ‘speak English’ thanks to the dying screams of the people she killed and ate alive. Some people would try and bargain with her, others would just string together a stream of ‘shit’s and ‘no’s. Of course, this doesn’t help when learning English, as you only learn certain words and all their connotations are fucked and disjointed. She tries her best though. Also, she doesn’t actually have a name. Woodland is just a term.

Xander - Found out that he was a god when he didn’t die when he should have. By all means, he should have died. He was in a car accident with some sorta not really friends (all his other friends were in the other car, thank gods) and all the other ones died horrifically. Someone got flung out the windshield and into a tree, someone stepped out of the crash and got hit by a passing truck, when the car caught on fire, two people were stuck inside. Only Xander lived, but he was in a hospital with wounds that should have never healed, but they did. He then got a message from his fathers telling him about his true parentage.

[lucaservine]

Where: San Diego, CA When: Thanksgiving Break Status: Closed

When Lucas is back on solid ground, there’s a deep sigh of pure relief. He doesn’t hate flying necessarily—he lives part of his life flying around in the air. Lucas just hates long flights where he forgets what it feels like to be back on the ground. Now outside of the airport, Lucas faced sunny California with the biggest smile and happy to be home. As much as he did love Palmetto, nothing could quite beat the beauty of the west coast. Lucas found his Uber and tossed his bags into the backseat with him as he cheerfully greeted the driver. It would be a bit before he was home and he settled into the backseat with his eyes taking in the palm trees, passing buildings, and traffic. That was one thing he certainly never missed.

Going back home was bittersweet. He missed California. He missed his high school friends. He missed walking down to the beach and spending most of his days there. At the same time, Lucas knew going home meant walking into a world he knew would be turned upside down. Over the past few years his mother had turned into… a raging storm that was entirely unpredictable. But this time things would be different. After their last conversation, Lucas was hopeful that they’d spend this holiday together mending bridges and being happy. Like the family they were supposed to be in the beginning.

When the car pulled into the community of condos, Lucas started to pull his bags together and get the money out that he needed for the driver. It was still weird to see the different buildings and the idea that this wasn’t his childhood home anymore. Lucas would be lying if he said he wasn’t mad at his mother for selling the house without talking to him. Sure, the condo was nice and it was right on the beach… but it wasn’t his home. Lucas still missed his neighbors and his childhood bedroom. It felt weird imagining that someone else lived there now with their family.

The driver left Lucas on the sidewalk and he headed up toward the building with his bags. He went up the side stairwell to get up to the top floor. In the walkway, Lucas spotted Mrs. Mendozzi who was sweeping out the sand and leaves from her front door. “Hi Mrs. Mendozzi,” Lucas called out with a bright smile. She turned around, broom in her hands until she realized who it was and the broom clattered to land against the wall. “Luke, my sweet summer child! You’re home! Your mother didn’t say you were coming! I could have baked cookies or made you a nice meal! Oh, look at you, have you grown taller? How’s college? Is everyone being nice to you? You tell me if there’s someone being mean, I’ll come all the way out there with my broom and teach them a lesson.” The parade of words came with a warm big huge from the old woman that left Lucas in laughter as he hugged her back.

“I’m fine, I promise. I really should get inside but I promise I’ll stop by tomorrow and I’ll tell you all about my life at college, okay?” It was the best Lucas could do for now; he wanted to get inside and talk to his mom.

“Alright, dear. I’ll make sure to have cookies ready to go.”

She left him with a kiss on the cheek and went back to sweeping, humming softly. That was the one benefit he could find in moving to the condo. Mrs. Mendozzi had been a blessing in his life, always willing to talk to him and keep an eye on him. Her husband was just as sweet, had been kind enough to help Lucas whenever it was one of his tougher days and he was visiting home.

Lucas turned back to the door: 308. It took him a moment to get the keys out of his pocket with his bags, but he eventually got the door open and pushed it open. He was met with darkness and the coldness in the entryway. Lucas turned on the light switched and stepped inside, looking around. “Mom?” Lucas shouted, waiting for a response. “Mom?” He tried one more time.

Pursing his lips, Lucas stepped back out to the walkway. “Mrs. Mendozzi, did my mom go to the store or something?” He asked as he leaned against the doorway—half in and half out of the condo. The old woman stopped and turned, hand on her hip as she gave Lucas a confused expression. “Not that I know, dear. I haven’t seen your mother here in about… a week? Maybe two.”

At her words, Lucas felt his heart racing in his chest. He didn’t let his smile fall, only said thank you and went back in with the door shutting behind him. From the kitchen breakfast bar, Lucas spotted the blinking red light that said there was a voicemail on the home phone. Walking over, Lucas pressed the button and listened to the voice:

You have four new messages. First new message. “Elizabeth, it’s Drake. You’ve always been impeccable with your attendance and your support with the school. You’ve missed the pass few meetings and I just want---Message deleted. Next new message: “Lizzy! Girl, you will not believe what just happened! I saw---Message deleted. Next new message: Hello Ms. LouBard, this is Beth Washington with Riscard and Bell. I’m calling in regards to your---Message deleted. Next new message: Lucas, love, hello! I don’t know what time you’re getting in but I wanted to let you know that I won’t be home. Laura and Megan got tickets to a show in New York and I couldn’t resist going! I know you understand, sweetheart. You always do. And thank you so much for the money. I know it was for Thanksgiving dinner but since it will just be you, I thought I could use it for my trip. If you need anything, ask Mrs. Mendozzi! Love you, Luke baby!” Messaged deleted.

Lucas took a deep breath and brushed away the tears that had fallen. No, he wouldn’t cry. What was there to cry about? Really, it was his own fault for being naïve and thinking that she would have stayed for the holiday. It didn’t matter how sincere she might have sounded…

With sluggish movements, Lucas went to his bags and grabbed them so he could unpack in his room. It was robotic. Lucas moved slow and without thinking as he put his things away. It wasn’t until he’d finished unpacking and sat down on the edge of his bed that he’d started to think and started to get angry. Lucas wasn’t an angry person. It was unfamiliar and he didn’t like the bitterness it left in his mouth.

He should have never come home.

The first two days were spent running errands. Lucas had to stock the kitchen as there wasn’t anything but an old beer bottle and condiments that were questionable in the door. Clearly his mother hadn’t been home in a while. After a trip to the grocery store, Lucas made another trip to the bank to talk to one of the employees. It had taken him an hour of sitting outside the bank for him to work up the courage, but he eventually went inside and asked for help. When he walked out, it was with mixed feelings and his mother no longer attached to his bank account. Even if she asked, he had no way of giving her money now.

After more little errands, Lucas spent most of his days on the beach or chatting with the neighbors. When he wasn’t there, he sat on the balcony of the condo with a book and petting the Mendozzi’s dog Cheerio who was more than happy to see Lucas back.

But the routine got old fast and Lucas found himself feeling dangerously alone at nights. It was too quiet and the television didn’t work—his mother didn’t pay for cable or any streaming apps. Lucas eventually caved in and got himself Netflix but even that didn’t help with the loneliness that was settling into his bones.

When Thanksgiving came, Lucas didn’t get out of bed until late afternoon. A bad decision when the time came to finally move and the soreness in his leg made it nearly impossible. He tried to do his stretches, but that only helped so much. Thanksgiving dinner came in the form of a frozen television dinner of turkey, corn, and mashed potatoes. He sat at the dinner table by himself, staring up at the opposite end of the table every once in a while.

That night, Lucas cried in bed. Soft, silent tears that lolled him into sleep.

When Friday night came around, Lucas had packed his bags up and left the condo without a look back. It hadn’t ever really been his home and without his mom there that whole week, it felt less like a home than ever before. The drive to the airport was quiet but full of indecision. Why did he feel so shitty? Lucas hated the storm brewing in his chest, hated the loneliness that was sinking into him this whole week and he had no way to get rid of it even if he tried. He’d stopped answering his phone save for one picture on Instagram of him on the beach and a caption that would be typical Lucas fashion.

At the airport, as he waited for his flight to board, Lucas finally took up his phone and called the number that had been sitting on the screen for ten minutes. Not shocking, he reached the voicemail.

“Hey mom. I’m on my way back to school but I wanted to call you before I got on the plane…” Lucas took a deep breath. “I took you off my bank account. I’m not giving you anymore of my money and… I-I’m not letting you walk all over me anymore. You were supposed to be home, we were supposed to spend Thanksgiving together. Year after year you’ve been using me for money and as an excuse to avoid your responsibilities and I’m tired of it. I’m your son and this…this isn’t how you’re supposed to treat your son. S-So no more… I hope you understand and we can talk about this whenever you’re done with your trip.” Lucas ended the call and stared down at his phone, not at all happy with his words. He still felt conflicted, but still had so much more he wanted to say. Wanted to shout.

Hours later, back in Palmetto, Lucas went straight to his room at the Vixen Den and crawled straight into bed.

[vinylackles]

loyal

word count: 2,250

requested by: anonymous (thank you for being my first request love!)

summary: you’ve been hunting with the boys for a while but after a hunt goes awry dean kicks you out... little do they know what happens to you once you leave

all my works || request imagines here

“Dammit Sammy, sit still,” Dean demanded, trying to help his flinching brother patch up his wound. You sat on the other bed in silence, cleaning the blood off your leg and bandaging the gash that was left behind, unable to look at them.

Dean hadn’t spoken a word to you since the hunt had ended, and you didn’t blame him. It was your fault after all. They hadn’t seen the demon on the other side of the room, and they didn’t hear what it said, but you going after it left Sam uncovered, and the ghost had gotten to him before you could turn around. That knife cut across his back was on you, and the guilt was eating away at you so deeply that you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak. 

So you sat alone for the rest of the night, Sam falling asleep first, laying on his stomach across the bed, wincing in his sleep when he adjusted even slightly. Dean drank his beer slowly, watching Sam’s blood seep through the white bandage slowly, spreading from pink to bright red, in eerie silence. You couldn’t take it anymore - might as well get it over with. 

“Dean.” 

“Don’t.” You flinched at the word. You’d known it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation, but the dead tone of his voice told you that it was going to be much, much worse than you thought. 

“What can I do?”

“You can leave. I can’t watch your back and Sam’s. And apparently you can’t watch either of ours. That doesn’t work for me.” 

It hit you like a punch to the gut. Part of you wanted to argue with him. How the hell could he just ignore the fact that you’d been hunting with them for two years? You’d been through so much with these boys, surely he couldn’t just throw it away. But you knew if there was one thing Dean wasn’t rational about, it was Sam getting hurt. Maybe he would change his mind in a few days, or weeks, or months. But right now you knew there was nothing you could say to him to fix this. 

“Okay.” You stood up, mechanically beginning to pack your bag. It didn’t take long before everything you owned was tucked neatly into your duffle. You weren’t sure where to go from there - maybe to Bobby’s, maybe to the next town over to clear your head.

“Bye Dean. I’m sorry. Look out for demons, they’re planning something and I think it has to do with the two of you.”

He didn’t even look up from his sleeping brother as you walked out the door, closing it behind you only to feel a sharp pain in your back, followed by black...

TWO MONTHS LATER

You spit the blood out of your mouth across the room, the taste familiar to you by now. The pain was so constant it didn’t phase you much anymore, but this seemed different. They usually weren’t this rough with you, considering they needed to keep you alive. 

“What’s got your panties in a wad today, hmm?” You grinned, your teeth coated in blood. That landed you a punch in the face, causing a few stars to float around the corner of your vision. They hadn’t fed you in the last two days, so you weren’t sure how long you were going to last. 

“You have one last chance to tell me where the Winchesters are or your head will be rolling on the floor,” the demon in front of you growled, his eyes flicking black again.

“You really are as dumb as you look. For the last time, you stupid son of a bitch- I. DON’T. KNOW.” 

“YOU’RE LYING,” he yelled in your face, getting so close you could smell his breath. There was a new look in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. 

Fear.

“They made you, didn’t they? They found your fun little torture house and they’re coming for you, aren’t they? AREN’T THEY?!” You grinned again. That one landed you a kick to the ribs, and you heard a sickening crack. It didn’t matter if he beat you senseless because you knew you were right- you could feel it. And as if they could read your mind, you saw two faces pop up in the small windows of the doors on the other side of the room. 

The boy’s faces turned to ones of horror as they looked at you, recognizing who you were. You made yourself look away, determined to distract the demon in front of you. 

You began to thrash against the metal cuffs that bound your hands and ankles, drawing his eyes to you. The skin there was already raw from how many times you’d done this before, but you did it anyways. You screamed as loudly as you could, which covered up the sound of the boys opening the door. Sam had the demon knife in his hand, Dean a half-empty bottle of holy water. 

The demon slapped you to shut you up, and he was about to turn his back to you before you spoke up.

“Hey! You know what you son of a bitch, fine! I’ll tell you where the Winchesters are if you swear you’ll let me go,” you yelled. 

“Oh really now, and why after all this time would you suddenly want to tell me?” He seemed suspicious of you, and he had a right to be. Sam and Dean inched closer, moving silently. 

“Because I know where they are now,” you murmured.

“And where would that be?” The demon snarled. The knife glinted off the only light in the room.

“Right behind you,” you smiled, and listened to the slice as Sam drove the knife home through the demon’s back. You watched it die, his body slumping to the ground slowly, landing beside your chair. 

It was over. It was really over. For the first time in two months, you let your body fully relax, going limp against the chair.

“Y/N? Y/N! C’mon sweetheart stick with me, were gonna get you out of here, it’s gonna be alright.” You felt two hands cupping your face, holding it up. You knew they were Dean’s. Two more hands were very carefully trying to undo your cuffs with a picklock. You opened your eyes, and you were staring into the green of Dean’s right in front of you. It was the most comforting thing you’d seen in a long, long time.

“How long have you been here?” 

“I lost track. Since I left Montana after that hunt. They snagged me outside the motel and brought me here.” Your hands were free, and Sam moved to work on your legs. 

You watched as the emotions flickered across Dean’s face like the pages of a flip book. Anger. Guilt. Rage. Sadness. Regret. More anger.

“What did they want from you?” Your body felt heavy all of sudden, as if the toll of the last two months had finally begun to sink in.

“They wanted to know where you two were. I told you they were planning something.”

“Dammit Y/N, why didn’t you just tell them?! We could have handled it!” Dean was distraught at this point, and you could see the tears forming in his eyes. You must have looked about as bad as you felt. 

“No way was I gonna sell out my boys. No matter what.” You gave him the best smile you could manage, your eyelids getting heavy. 

“Hey, hey hey hey none of that, you keep your eyes open you hear me! Y/N!”

Sam finally got the last cuff undone, and you felt two strong arms lift you up, but you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer.

DEAN’S POV:

“Cas, I swear to God if you don’t get your feathery ass over here right now,” he yelled at nothing, running through the hallways of the abandoned hospital as fast as he could while carrying Y/N. She was covered in blood and cuts from head to toe, and she was wheezing slightly while she breathed. He pressed her tighter to his chest as a pushed his legs to go faster, heading straight for the exit, Sam on his heels.

To his relief, Cas was standing outside the doors by the Impala expectantly. 

“You couldn’t have just zapped in there?” Dean exclaimed.

“It’s warded, you ass. What’s wrong?” Cas responded, eyebrow furrowing at the sight of Y/N in Dean’s arms. 

“Heal her,” Dean said. Cas didn’t hesitate for a moment, looking over Y/N with saddened eyes before he placed two fingers to her forehead. Dean watched as each cut closed and healed, and he knew her internal injuries must be healed as well. Her body remained limp in his arms. 

“She’s extremely malnourished, and she’ll need her rest. I’d guess that she will regain consciousness in two days. I would think it wise to have food prepared when she wakes.”

And with that he was gone just as suddenly as he’d come.

Y/N stirred slightly in Dean’s arms.

“Shhh, you can sleep. You’re safe,” he reassured her. She lulled back to sleep then, curling up closer to the warmth that Dean provided. He took her to the impala, letting Sam drive for once just so he could ride in the backseat and make sure that she was alright. 

TWO DAYS LATER

READER’S POV:

There was a sharp pain in your stomach that was totally ruining your paradise beach. All you wanted to do was relax and listen to the waves crash against the shore, but all you could hear was a peculiar gurgling and an odd empty feeling, accompanied by pain. 

Next came an annoying electrical buzz, followed by the sounds of murmured voices. Your throat was so dry you weren’t sure you could speak to tell them to shut up. And finally, your last hold on your perfect little dream gave way, and you opened you eyes.

The buzzing was from the light above you- you were definitely in a motel. Your lips were stuck together, cracked and dry. Your throat burned. And god were you hungry. All together, that told you that it was time to get up. 

Your body didn’t cooperate well with that plan, though the aches and pains that were constant over the last two months were seemingly gone, even the ribs you knew were broken. Your slight movement did alert whoever else was in the room though. 

“Y/N! Hey, hey take it easy,” Dean’s voice grew closer as he ran across the room. “How do you feel?”

“Like I haven’t eaten in two weeks,” you chuckled. Your head was pounding, but you knew that you just needed food and water. 

He nodded, very business-like as he got up and grabbed three bottles of water and a few things from the large stash of food he’d accumulated from the gas station up the road. You took the water first, chugging the first two bottles in record time before moving on to the food, trying to restrain yourself. You knew eating too much would be too much on your shrunken stomach, but it was just so good.

“Where’s Sam?” You asked after your mouth was clear of food. 

“He’s out on a case, I stayed in case you woke up. We’ve been taking it in shifts,” Dean smiled at you, but you could see the exhaustion in his features. 

“You haven’t slept since you found me huh?”

“Still just as damn observant,” he shook his head, rubbing at his eyes. 

“It’s okay. I’m okay, you can sleep.”

“It’s not okay Y/N. None of this is okay. You were tortured for two months, because of me.” His voice was rough, as if he were holding back tears.

“Wrong. Not because of you.”

“I kicked you out.”

“I got your brother hurt,” you countered.

“We’re hunters, we get hurt. It’s not an excuse.” He was speaking more to himself than to you, but you let him continue on. “You watched our backs for years, and I threw all that out the window over a stupid friggin ghost. And you told me to keep an eye on the demons and I ignored you, and they had you the whole time.”

“I forgive you.”

He looked up at you in confusion, almost as if he had forgotten you were there. You knew he expected you to yell at him, tell him he was wrong and that he was an ass - that’s what he was accustomed to. 

“I didn’t even apologize,” he said, baffled.

“Yes you did. It’s in the past now anyways. Now at least I know I can handle pretty much anything.” 

What he did next took you by surprise. Before you could process it there were two strong arms around you, crushing you to him. 

“I’ve got you. Nothings going to happen to you again, not on my watch.” You could tell by Dean’s voice that he was crying, and you finally let the tears you’d been holding so long fall, grabbing onto the back of his shirt, taking fistfuls and pulling yourself closer to him, as close as you could get. For the first time, you felt safe and you knew you were loved.

And so he held you, pressing kissed to your forehead and the top of your head as you calmed down in the safety of his arms, knowing nothing was going to separate you and your boys ever again.

[mao-s-mess]

Graduation ~Yoosung x MC fanfiction~

Yoosung Kim is only a month away to taking his finals exam in SKY University but MC starts acting suspicious during such a critical moment

Also on Fanfiction.net

Graduation Yoosung x MC fanfiction Disclaimer: All Mystic Messenger characters belong to Cheritz I didn't describe MC in detail so it could be any of the 5 MCs or your very custom ones! "MC! Come on!" a boy in his early 20s with bleached blonde hair and purple-coloured hair whined with a face of disappointment.

"No 'buts'. Your parents and sister also agree this is for the best. It is after all your finals." his girlfriend, MC; said sternly as she toss a bunch of the blonde's clothes into a luggage bag that was laid out on his bed.

Yoosung Kim crossed him arms and frowned at his girlfriend as she busily goes through his wardrobe.

In about a month's time, he will be seating for his final year examination in Veterinary medicine and what has been suggested and pretty much decided for him is that he and MC will be switching houses for the next month.

"Look, when you get pressured or stressed you tend to distract or 'de-stress' yourself with sleep or LOLOL or you start stress cooking. You're too comfortable in your own home so staying at mine where there's nothing much to do will be the best for you"

She was reaching for the last drawer when he frantically ran over and held it shut with his hands.

"I'll pack my underwear myself thank you!" he insisted as his ears and cheeks turned red.

MC raised her hands and backed away from his cabinet as he selected his underwear to pack.

"I know that's where you keep your por-"

"What?"

"I- i said don't forget to pack your SOCKS."

He nodded and threw in a few pairs of socks into the luggage looking very annoyed. His breathing was irregular; deep huffs but elongated exhales, a habit he has when he wants to say something but haven't found the words yet.

As much as MC found this habit of his adorable she had to stay serious. She knew oh so well he hated things planned out for him without his knowledge or approval but the exam stress has already gotten to him and it was only a matter of time before he has a breakdown and turns to his "can't be bothered" persona.

She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms across his torso; she felt his body tensing up as she did so. She didn't need to see his face to know he was blushing at her sudden action. She smiled as she buried her face into his back.

"MC?!" he flustered waiting for a response. When he recovered from the surprise hug, he placed his own hands over hers. He could feel her breath against his back as he looked down at her arms around him.

She wasn't that much older than him and just finished her university course shortly before she stumbled upon the RFA.

When MC came into the picture, it was probably the worst time for him; he was blinded from his grief of losing Rika, major hatred towards V, was lost with his directions in life as well as had difficulty handling his emotions but she accepted all that of him and even more; she helped him out of that phase in his life.

It has been about 2 years after the incident where he lost sight in his left eye at the hands of the hacker who called himself Unknown but the two have been inseparable since the party where he proclaimed his love and kissed her then and there.

It certainly wasn't an easy relationship being Yoosung's first and he had a rather fairytale concept and expectations of how a relationship should be. He realized the hard way that you either have to be seriously rich, like Jumin Han to pull a lot of things off or have magic and he had neither.

As for MC, it was a major test of patience and constant game of reassuring for Yoosung. She didn't have a relationship as serious as this before but both of them have managed to worked things out together even though they quarreled here and there.

"I just want what's best for you.." her voice muffled from burying her face into his back.

"Okay.." he responded in a defeated tone.

He turned around to give her a kiss on the forehead, when they first dated, he wasn't that much taller than her but he started participating in some sports and also joining Zen on some runs in the park outside Zen's place so he grew a bit, definitely more physical activity than when he was just playing LOLOL when he wasn't eating or at Uni.

"You're doing this because I'm important to you right?" he said with a small smile as he placed her palm against his cheek.

"You're number 1 to me!" she flashed the smile that he loves so very much.

"Meowww~"

Lisa, the cat they adopted together from Jumin 2 years ago nuzzled up against Yoosung's leg.

MC bend down to pick up Lisa to cradle her.

"Lisa's a close second tho, we're both rooting for you!"

Yoosung scratched Lisa behind her ear as she purred.

"Okay fine... I'll do it. I'll spend a month in your place for the finals... Thank you for thinking about me."

"Thank you! I've already asked Seven to help with your LOLOL. Either he plays your account or he'll assign a bot to it"

"A BOT?! I don't want to get banned! I'm currently number 1! I've only managed to beat Seven because he's always away on assignments now"

"Banned? Please. This is Luciel we're talking about. How bold of you to think he'll screw this up, this is a walk in the park for him."

"...Fine... i have lots of important gears there you know..."

"I know how much LOLOL is important to you. It was number 1 for you before I came along ;p " she said cheekily as she looked around for more things to pack.

"Okay okay.. can we have dinner and dates at times?"

"Yes of course! We'll play by ear as usual around your schedule"

"Okay.. how about next week, Wednesday then? I'm free the whole day"

MC froze up.

...?

"Uhm.. next Wednesday.. is no good... I have a meeting with Jaehee about uhm some part time event work thingy"

There it was. A habit Yoosung knows very well.

MC can't hide secrets or tell lies very well. On the Messenger and texts it's not so much of a problem. It's the face to face and phone calls that gives it away, she'll start to avoid eye contact and stutter.

"What are you hiding?"

"NO-NOTHING!" she waved her hands furiously as she went to grab more shirts from Yoosung's cupboard.

"I just have a meeting planned with Jaehee that is all! About some part time work thingy-YEA!"

Yoosung's brows scrunches up.

"And that's the reason you want me to bug her phone?" A boy not that much older than Yoosung with bright reddish orange hair and amber-coloured eyes asked with raised eyebrow.

Luciel Choi aka 707 was the RFA's secret agent/hacker/nonsense maker. He has a love for fast cars, cats, honey buddha chips and dr pepper. Yoosung came over (after a few attempts of trying to decipher Seven's security system) because MC hasn't revealed any plans on her day with Jaehee and that just made even more suspicious especially since her fabrication details keep changing.

First it was a meeting then it was a shopping trip and then it was a Zen fanclub related outing and then she said she was meeting family.

"She's not telling me anything. She usually does in the end"

"Maybe she's trying to keep something from you"

"We're not suppose to keep secrets! It's bugging me so yes that's why i want you to bug her phone so I can find out. What if she's not meeting Jaehee, what if- what if-"

Seven slapped a packed of Honey Buddha Chips across Yoosung's face (semi lightly) as he had chips in his own mouth, shaped like a duck.

"You realized this is MC. The woman who put up with your emotional ass even after you keep comparing her to Rika. If she didn't abandon you then, what makes you think she'll abandon you now"

Yoosung bit his lips. He knew Seven was right, words stung but he was definitely right. MC cheating on him would be the last thing she'd ever do. He felt bad doubting her for that option.

"I still want to know what she's hiding from me though"

"Ugh. You'll never leave until you get something anyway. So what's in it for me"

"That LOLOL limited edition gacha item you couldn't get because the event happened when you went incognito 2 months ago."

Seven's mouth opened and his duck chips fell out.

"WHAT... ARE YOU SERIOUS. PEOPLE ARE ACTUALLY AUCTIONING THAT OFF FOR REAL MONEY"

"You can have it. I also got the rare one too"

Seven did an impression of Edvard Munch's The Scream. He was that much in shock.

"If i take it i can sell it for real money too?"

"Do whatever you want with it"

"Even to buy new accessories for my babies?"

"Wait-can it be auctioned off that much?"

"NO TAKE BACKS. Do we have a deal? Your LOLOL rare item for an all access day pass to MC's phone"

"Do it."

"YAHOO~ LET'S DO IT THEN" he swiveled around on his chair to face his monitors and starting tapping away at the keyboard.

"Tapping into her GPS location... Done.. She's at a cafe not too far off from the C&R building.. Let me just pull up one of the security camera feed and... THERE. "

Yoosung leaned over towards the monitor and sure enough there was MC.

"OHMYGOSH WHO IS THAT A HOT GUY SHE'S WITH" Seven exclaimed.

Yoosung heart leaped and started panicking as he scanned the monitor in depth.

"Oh. LOL. My bad. That's just Jaehee. 8D "

It was Yoosung's turn to slap Seven with the Honey Buddha Chips packet across the face; sure enough MC was with another RFA member, Jaehee Kang; personal assistant to Jumin Han.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

The two girls seems to be chattering away happily when MC's face turned serious as she put her cup of coffee down.

"Can we listen in on them" Yoosung asked as he tries to read their lips but failing.

"Okay okay..." Seven said as he starting clicking away at the keyboard again.

Some feedback could be heard on the speaker when MC and Jaehee's voice came on.

---

Jaehee: So what was it you wanted to talk about? And why are we keeping a secret about this from Yoosung?

MC: Well... cos it's embarrassing really..

Jaehee: Embarrassing? With how you two are always at each other, showering cringe-worthy compliments and texts? How can anything be embarrassing?

MC: Heehee...

MC clapped both her hands together suddenly in a pleading manner.

MC: JAEHEE TEACH ME HOW TO MAKE A GOOD CUP OF COFFEE PLEASE

Jaehee: What. Why me. And Yoosung learned how to brew coffee from his coffee club, wouldn't that be better?

MC: But you have more in depth info on it.. You are passionate about the beans and the roast.

Jaehee: A month ago you asked Mr. Han for a private cooking session with his chef. Then you were looking around for some classes on baking.. Now coffee from me? What's going on.

MC fidgeted and looked down, her face turning red.

MC: Well... I'm trying to be a good girlfriend for Yoosung.

Jaehee: I don't understand, aren't you already a good one? He can't stop raving about you.

MC: To be honest, he doesn't show it but he's doing most in the relationship. He'll insist on cooking and he's always trying out new recipes, he also insists on being the one paying for dates even though he isn't working yet, he saves up a lot for our dates. I try to help but his ego won't allow me to take some of that burden away, he believes as the man in the relationship, he's got duties to fulfill.

At this point a warm smile came across her face.

MC: He's giving his all to become a vet when he didn't have any motivation or purpose before; medical isn't an easy line and he's working extra hard because of his left eye injury too and he'll be so busy soon getting that license and practical and all.. I don't know...

MC blushes as she took another sip of her drink before she continued

MC: I just... I want to do more than just offer words of support to him. I want to support him as much as I can even something as little as cooking for him or preparing a cup of coffee when he needs it. I'll be looking for work soon so that I don't seem like a bum that is leeching off him.. So at least I can help our wit the groceries or bills and transport fees and all.. And probably save up for trips for when he gets a break and stuff... I just... I just want to do more for him you know?

Jaehee gave a small giggle as she slid her fork through the slice of cake in front of her.

Jaehee: You're really something.. Always having such a positive attitude towards the face of change. Or danger.

Jaehee shuddered at the memory.

Jaehee: I hope that bomb is finally removed.

MC and Jaehee laughed at that remark as they continued on.

---

Back at Seven's headquarters (?), Yoosung stood stunned at the conversation he just eavesdropped on.

After a while, tears welled up in his eyes and he turned furiously red in the face.

"Whoa. You're as red as my hair" Seven said as he grabbed his phone to snap a photo of Yoosung's crying face.

"You-you meanie. Whydyouhabtotakeapicturofme"

"Can't understand you. SELFIE" He grabbed Yoosung by the shoulder and snapped another photo before he ruffled up Yoosung's bleached hair.

"You realize how frickin' blessed you are now? Now go and study hard for that examination of yours. If not for Rika, If not for yourself then make it for your future with her."

Yoosung rubbed his eyes with the sleeves of his beloved hoodie. Another renewed resolution for himself.

Half a year later the RFA gathered at Yoosung's graduation ceremony at SKY university

"To think that kid didn't bothered with uni in the beginning, I didn't even know he was taking a course like veterinary" Zen said as he occasionally stopped to smile and wave at some female fans. His career as a musical artist soared beyond the stage and onto television in the past few years. That also meant more fans.

"Well he did it for Rika at first because of Sally..." V stated as he was adjusting the settings on his camera to ensure he doesn't miss any shots of Yoosung. Much to persistence of his fellow RFA members, he managed to receive an operation on his right eye to stop him from going blind. He slowly started to take photographs again.

"He always did perform better if it's for someone else but it is rather surprising that he graduated at the top of his class and is chosen as the valedictorian." Jaehee said as she scanned through the graduation event schedule.

"He worked really really hard! His parents and sister are in the front, i saw them just now. They're so so proud!" MC said proudly.

"Indeed he did, his results were so superb it caught wind from one of our medical panel and they've offered him a position in one of our hospitals to undergo private practice so his future is secured as of now" Jumin Han spoke in his usual tone of voice. "I did not even need to put in any word of recommendation."

"I managed to retrieve my number 1 spot in LOLOL again because of this, he stopped religiously for the past few months" Seven said as he took a sip from a can of Dr. Pepper.

"It was nice of him to invite all of us. I know 2 tickets were allocated but you can purchase additional tickets for everyone else." Zen said as he posed for some girls who were trying to sneak a photo of him.

"Oh i paid for it. C&R is a major sponsor for the graduation, which is why we have such good and somewhat private seating" Jumin stated as he adjusted his cuff links.

"Tch. You just had to ruin it" Zen glared at the trust fund kid. Their relationship, as usual; have seen better days.

"I think it's great we're all here though" MC said happily.

"Yea, Jaehee and I weren't there for his high school one and we got to make sure we get proper smiling one for today!" Seven said with determination.

"Oh, it's starting" V said as he readied his camera, he brought his best zoom lens for this as the crowd quieted down.

Professors and head of programmes gave their welcome speeches before the calling of graduates, there were a lot of names being called out. The RFA cheered and clapped loudly when Yoosung's name was read out.

Yoosung walked proudly onto stage as he tipped his graduation cap to the head of programme upon receiving his degree and posing for a picture. A proud moment for him and those who were there for him. They all waited for the rest of the graduates to receive their degrees before Yoosung was called to stage to deliver the valedictorian speech.

"An-nyŏng-ha-se-yo! My name is Yoosung Kim and I am honoured to be delivering the Valedictorian speech this year."

A round of applause roared across the hall as the his Amethyst eyes scanned the crowd for the RFA and his beloved.

"It's really an honour because I wasn't always a model student. Well I was in high school but something happened that made me not take the first 2 years of university seriously."

"You see, I failed my exams and sometimes I'd fall asleep in class. I'd forget days where there are quizzes and had almost no motivation to come to class, I would often skip classes to play LOLOL."

"However, there were people who did not give up on me and I am thankful that I was given another chance to pick myself up. I knew I had to put in the extra effort as I wasted the first two years despite having an accident that caused me to lose sight, literally; in my left eye. It wasn't easy that is for sure but because of this 2nd chance, I did the best I could in all classes and I guess it showed with my results and also the fact that I was chosen as the Valedictorian. "

"What I'm trying to say is, sometimes in life we'll get lost and we don't perform our best, we fall and fail and when that happens, it feels like you're surrounded by darkness but I know of a saying, "Fall seven times, get up eight". There is a light in all of us, sometimes you'll find it yourself but most times you are assisted by outsiders to help you realise your potential. I have friends and family inside and outside the uni that had my back, professors who saw my efforts in getting better helping me out and most of all, I have a wonderful and supportive girlfriend that stood by my side and I'm really thankful for that. It was because of her that I felt that i could do anything and everything I set my heart into."

"This kind of feels déjà vu-ish" Zen said as he listened intently to Yoosung's speech.

"SKY University never gave up on their students and i am proof of that. So fellow students and friends, we tip our hats to our Professors, to our family and friends that have supported us but most of all, give yourself a pat on the back because we made it!"

He ended his speech with a word of congratulations to the students and wishing them the best in their future before walking off the stage with a round of applause tailing him. As soon as he got off the stage he nodded to his family before running off to meet the members of the RFA.

He was congratulated by every member but his eyes were fixated on MC.

"Congratulations on graduating!" MC said as she threw her arms around him when she had the chance to.

Yoosung blushed and gave a cheeky grin.

"Who'd have thought I'd be chosen to deliver that speech!"

"Not us" said almost all of the RFA in unison in less than a split second.

"YOU GUYS ARE MEAN!" Yoosung said with a puffed up cheek before breaking into laughter with the rest of the RFA.

"I'd like to personally thank every one of you for being here and for never giving up on me when I wasn't bothered with uni."

Then he turned to MC

"Most of all, thank YOU for coming into my life and blessing me with all of you. I graduated from uni but I feel like I have also graduated from my old self with the end of this chapter in my life. It's time to move on with the next chapter and I feel like I can take anything on as long as you are by my side. "

"So..."

He held her hand when he suddenly kneel down on one knee to everyone's surprise and took out a small box from underneath his robe and opened it to reveal a ring.

"MC, will you please marry me and make me an even happier person than I thought I could ever be?"

THE END

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