#The “I may not remember” part hit me like a sack of BRICKS before I went to bed and I was like

[xbraveheartx]

Suddenly smacked in the face by the implication of Romeo's message where he says "I remember you, so there's no reason for us to fight. I suppose."

I always thought the wording was weird, but didn't think too much on it... Until recently after we discussed some datamined stuff in the Carmeo/Promeo server. There's a scrapped line (where P was supposed to speak) that says "I may not remember, but I'm still your son" during the NP fight, and while the scrapped lines are their own can of worms, let's focus on the memory parts.

I had always thought that once a puppet woke up, they would just get their memories back. But the fact seems to be this: There are select memories that come back to give bits and pieces of their past that "wake" them up-- cause them to change, as we see with P and the necklace; As we see from the spliced memories at the Black Seaside. However, it might not be all one's memories that come back. Whether those spaces stay blank or come back over time, who knows.

What I'm trying to get at here is...

Romeo's memories might only consist of Carlo at the time of waking. Carlo was what woke Romeo-- "I remember you"-- He had the necklace, he knew from who it was; He recognized the face P was modeled after. "So there's no reason for us to fight, I suppose"-- there's a lack of confidence in the wording here. Friends aren't supposed to fight, right? That's what his memory tells him, at least.

And the only memories P tends to get in regards to his past? Those in relation to Romeo, his aspirations, and of his own death. Seemingly, these are the things most important to him.

They were the most important people to each other; They remembered each other, just one too late than the other.

[darling-i-read-it]

Marguerite Baker

Part 3

RE7 Rewrite Masterlist

Ethan Winters x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: spoilers for re7, violence, injuries, blood, gross rotted stuff, marguerites boss battle so gross sack thing, bugs, injuries

Author’s Note: I am having a ton of fun with this! At the time of me writing this I haven’t posted any of the parts lol so hopefully you all are enjoying it as well!

Some of these lines are directly from the game so they may sound familiar.

Summary: Getting the serum recipe, going through the old house, killing Marguerite and getting the D-series arm.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator. Some of these lines are directly from the game so they may sound familiar.

(not my gif) (i'm not posting any pics of marguerites boss fight cause I know a lot of people are super grossed out with it and I don't blame them lol)

Ethan dozed off in the trailer. You sat on the counter, counting each and every bullet the two of you had together. You looked around at everything in the trailer. You were fairly certain it was Zoe’s. She had left behind a couple extra weapons and bullets that you scrounged together.

Ethan began to stir after about 30 minutes of sleep. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. You handed him a water bottle you had found in Zoe’s fridge. He took it gratefully and drank about half of it. He ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath as you handed him all of his stuff back.

“We have to go to the old house,” you told him. He nodded.

“Did you get any sleep?” You shook your head.

“I didn’t want any. I’m too hyped up on adrenaline. The second we get out of here I’m going to crash for days.” He laughed a bit and nodded, standing up. He got himself situated. He got himself together, looking you up and down. You were both dirty and worn from the entire situation. You looked like you were about to collapse if you closed your eyes, your gaze wide. You opened the door a bit and looked around outside.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. You shrugged and grabbed a gun.

“I don’t know what else we can do. We’ll get lost without Zoe.”

“That’s a good point.”

“I’m the brains, you're the brawn babe.” He rolled his eyes and looked himself up and down. He was scrawny. He barely had any muscle on him. “We share the brain and brawn then. Come on.”

====

The two of you made your way to the old house. It was the same place you had seen Mia go in the video she made for the two of you. You had some idea where you had to go then. You just had to find the serum. That was it.

You stayed close together as you walked through the place. You found some extra weapons along with things that you could use back at the house. You were quick and as quiet as you could be, only speaking when you needed to speak. As you entered one of the rooms you picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table. You read through it quickly.

“The mothers name is Marguerite. The man is Jack, which we know and the boy is Lucas,” you said quietly. “Seemed like they were a regular family before all this. I wonder what went wrong,” you whispered. He nodded and looked over your head at the paper.

“Must have been something huge.”

“No shit.”

Suddenly something rammed into the gate wall behind you. You and Ethan turned around quickly, him standing between you and the gate. Mia was there, her hands through the holes. She looked desperate.

“Ethan!” she said breathily.

“Mia!” you said mockingly. “Are you going to try and kill us again?” Ethan grabbed your arm.

“That wasn’t me...I’m sorry,” she tried to say.

“No more bullshit Mia. I want some answers. Y/N told me what you told her but I know there’s more,” Ethan said.

“I know, I know you’re right. And I always wanted to tell you but I can only remember a little and the rest is gone!” Behind her Lucas appeared from the corner, grabbing her tightly and pulling her back.

“Daddy right? Who are you, you precious thing?” Lucas stuck his head out at you, a disgusting smile on his face. “We would get along,” he muttered. Ethan blocked Lucas’s view of you as he slinked away. “Well don’t just stand there Ethan! Do something.” Mia yelled for help and the door shut. You moved aside and looked at where she had just gone.

“That guy seems like a dick. We would not get along.” Ethan scoffed.

“Come on. We have to get that fucking serum.”

====

The two of you made it through to the other side of the old house just in time for Marguerite to push you down a hole in the ground. You figured you would have plenty of time to get in and out but she had caught you.

As you landed in the wet ground underneath the house, you felt the wind get knocked out of you. Marguerite's bugs flew down and beside you Ethan was standing. He used the fire thrower to the best of his ability and without even standing up you shot Marguerite in the face. She stumbled back and then forward, falling into the hole with the both of you. You screeched, quickly climbing up. Ethan was hot on your tails. Marguerite slinked away underneath you into the rest of the underground of the house.

He held tightly onto your arm, letting out a loud annoyed sigh.

“She’s nice,” you muttered.

“Not a great cook though.” You laughed and nodded. “Are you alright?” You nodded curtly.

“I think. You?” He nodded, holding up his hand.

“Still stapled on.” You rolled your eyes and turned around, walking back up the stairs. You opened the door that she had stopped you from opening. It opened up carefully and you were able to step inside. There were a lot of hanging baby dolls. In between some candles was a box. You rushed over to it and opened it up.

There seemed to be some sort of bones inside, along with a vile. On the back of the lid was some sort of recipe.

“D-series cranial nerve and D-series peripheral nerve,” you muttered aloud. “This is just the recipe for the serum, not the serum itself.” He let out a groan.

“Awesome.” The phone behind the two of you rang.

“If she knew where the phone was she should have come here herself,” you muttered. Ethan picked it up and you leaned against it so you could hear.

“Well? Did you find the serum?” she asked.

“We just got done dealing with your mom and her fucking bugs. Wish you could have warned me.”

“Sorry about that. What about the serum?”

“Haven’t found any but we did find out how to make one. A D-series head and arm. That can’t be right,” he muttered.

“A head? I think I have that around here somewhere.”

“You do?” he said incredulously.

“I don’t know about the arm though. Have you searched the whole house?”

“No not yet. We still have to check the second floor.”

“Alright, check it out. No funny business you two we’re on a mission.” You rolled your eyes.

“We’ll try to keep our hands to ourselves. We’ll meet you at the trailer if we find it.” He hung up the phone. Before he could even say anything you ventured further into the second floor. It wasn’t long before you found a door that had a single lantern on it.

“Looks like we need the other lantern,” you said aloud.

“This is why you’re the brains.” You rolled your eyes.

“Marguerite had one when she went down there.”

“I am not going down there.”

“You may have to.” The two of you walked back to where the hole in the ground one and saw the lantern just before Marguerite's impossibly long arms came to take it away. You let out a shaky sigh and gestured to him.

“Man first. We live in a patriarchal society.”

“I hate you.” He climbed the ladder down and looked around before you even thought about going down. You waited for a minute and he gestured for you to follow. You were careful as you went down and noticed Marguerite had some sort of pathway for the two of you to follow.

You went down that and came up to a green house of sorts. You went inside warily, guns raised. You and Ethan shared one last look before going up the stairs.

Marugite crashed through the window, causing you both to fall backwards. She gave you an intense look, her long limbs reaching around you.

“I’m her mother. Not you!” She hurried away. You and Ethan quickly regained your balance and held up your guns.

“Did you see her-”

“Yeah.” You swallowed hard and went up the stairs.

It took you and Ethan a good amount of time to get through her. But you had the grenades and Ethan had the flame thrower. Between the two of you, it took longer than it should have. She blew up after some time, leaving behind only her lantern.

You picked it up.

“Just fucking stay dead okay?!” Ethan said, out of breath. You nodded.

“I second that. Let’s just go and get the arm okay?” He swallowed, looking over at you. You watched as his eyes went big. “What?”

“Your chest.” You looked down and saw blood was pooling around your chest and shoulder area. Your eyes went wide as well as the pain hit you. Marguerite must have gotten you and you hadn’t even noticed with all the adrenaline. Ethan quickly rushed over to you and put his hand on your shoulder. “We’re going back to the trailer so I can look at this.” You nodded and let him help you walk out of the green house.

It was a very short walk to the trailer. He sat you down on the bed and kneeled in front of you. He tugged at the hem of your shirt.

“At least buy me dinner first,” you said through a groan. He gave you a look and he helped you take the shirt off. You had a large gash from your collarbone to your arm. Ethan winced just at the sight of it. He pulled out some of the first aid he had found.

“This is going to hurt.” You nodded as he poured something on it. You winced through gritted teeth. He pulled out some bandages. “You aren’t dying on me now, I don’t care what you say.”

“You held your own pretty good back there,” you admitted.

“Yeah, with your help.” You watched as he focused his eyes on your wound. He looked so intense. You had always liked Ethan but when Mia went missing he was all you knew. As you stared into his eyes you thought maybe you had always loved him.

Loved him?

It hit you like a bag of bricks. You took a short breath in and Ethan just assumed it was the pain. You had to look away as you felt yourself get flustered. He was your best friend's husband. But she had been gone for three years and she was always gone before that anyway. You found it in yourself to look back at him. He was smiling slightly up at you.

“It’s the best I can do.”

“It’s great,” you said. “I already feel better. Thank you Doctor Winters.”

“Just doin my job.” You swallowed and stood up. He grabbed your arm, shaking his head.

“You aren’t going with me. I can get the arm.” You shook your head more aggressively than him.

“I’m not letting you go alone.”

“You just said I could hold my own.”

“And you admitted you needed me.”

His hand was firm on your arm. You stared into each other's eyes and suddenly it was so obvious you had always loved him. That's why you came. Sure, you hoped Mia was okay but truthfully you couldn’t let him die if you could help it. The way he laughed and the way he hated beer but drank it anyway and the way he reloaded a gun was weird and the way he looked at you.

“I’ll be okay. Get some rest. Hopefully Zoe will come here before I do.” He let your arm go. He had felt the tension.

You were getting so dizzy from blood loss you had to sit down.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. You reached forward and held his hand.

“Please be safe Ethan.” He nodded curtly and left the trailer. You put your head down on the pillow and let yourself breathe evenly.

====

Ethan returned with the D-series arm only a half an hour later. Zoe was still not there. You were sleeping peacefully on the bed, your face finally at peace. He watched you for a moment. You were his only friend over this whole Mia thing. Most of his friends beforehand had left him when he got super into trying to find her but not you.

And then you told him everything and it all kinda changed.

He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. If you died...he couldn’t deal with it. You were his best friend. He...he loved you. He didn’t want to admit it to himself because of Mia but he really truly did. He ran his hand over his face, letting that settle in.

Suddenly the phone rang, waking you up. Ethan turned quickly and picked it up.

“Now where the hell are you? You know what, nevermind. We only need the head and you’ve got it.” You stood up and walked over, putting your head against the phone like you usually did.

“Hey buddy!” You let out an annoyed sigh. Lucas. “I thought you should know. I decided Zoe needed a time out. She and Mia are here with me. And they’re keeping each other company.”

“Just let them both go, what do you need them for?!”

“That’s family business Ethan! Not your concern understand? Now. If you want the head feel free to come by any time and I’ll give it to ya! But only if you participate in a little activity I put together for you two!”

“Where are they?” he asked.

“I know you’re excited! But don’t worry! It's not going anywhere. First step I need you to take partner is for you to take a look in that fridge there.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh come on now, don’t be like that. You wanna have fun don’t ya? Now look in the fridge.” Lucas hung up. You gave Ethan a look. Ethan put the phone down. You walked over to the fridge and found inside the deputies head. You scoffed.

“This guy again. Man.” You picked it up, wincing at the pain and the smell. On the back of his head was a note. “‘The pig is waiting for you in the dissection room bitch,’” you read. “Now that’s not very nice,” you muttered, putting the head back in the fridge. Ethan let out an annoyed sigh.

“This can’t ever be easy can it?”

“Hell no.” He gestured to your arm .

“How are you feeling?” You shrugged then winced.

“It’ll heal nicely,” you muttered. “How was getting the arm?” He showed it to you, waving it around as he spoke.

“Weird. I thought I saw a little girl and there were all these childrens toys. I got out of there quick though.” He put the arm down and walked up to you. “Let’s change the bandages and then we’ll go to the dissection room.”

“Bitch,” you mocked. Ethan laughed, raising his hands up to your shoulder. You sat down on the table and let him take a look.

“You aren’t lookin too good,” he muttered.

“You should never say that to a lady.” He rolled his eyes.

“You always look stunning. Even covered in blood and dirt.”

“Aw Ethan, thank you. Right back at you.” He put a new bandage on and you watched him do it. If he had looked in your eyes he would have seen the metaphorical hearts coming out of them. Finally he looked back up at your face.

“You should be okay now.”

“Thank you,” you said genuinely. He nodded curtly and stood back. “Can I ask you something?” He nodded. “Are you going to stay with Mia if she gets out of here alive?”

“Don’t ask me that,” he muttered.

“Why?”

“Because you’re messing with my vows by the answer I wanna give you.” You smiled a bit, looking down. “We have to go get whatever he left for us. Come on.” You nodded and stood up. You almost tripped forward from dizziness and he grabbed your healthy arm to keep you steady. Your faces were mere centimeters away. You looked into each other's eyes and he couldn’t help himself.

He kissed you.

Suddenly the pain from your arm was gone. You melted into his lips. He pulled away and froze. Your eyes went wide.

“Did you mean-”

“Yes.”

With that he walked out the trailer door to the dissection room.

Part 4

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Four

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 3k author note ::  you should also check out my ao3 and wattpad my username is LEVIATTACKS on both platforms. ao3 usually gets to see my updates first, feel free to leave any comments you have i appreciate all feedback ^___^ → next part is here!!

"Refer to me with that name once more and I'll see to it that your neck is snapped in two. Fucking Brat." His voice curls into a low hiss.

He rises from the bed making you jolt, if he's moving towards his dagger everything will be over in a matter of seconds. The tension between the two of you is foggy and uncertain.

Your line of vision is cloudy, bleary tears seize it. You should have tried harder whilst researching, found a way to make Lev stay, it hits you like a sack of bricks - you didn't try hard enough, was that the issue, was that the mistake you made this time? Mind full of harsh expletives you continue to curse yourself. Of course he left, of course he fucking did. Your life was one large cyclical narrative of earning the love of others and ultimately losing it along the way some how.

The world conditioned you to become independent, to not rely on others for affection, earn what you must on your own. Making your own way through life is all you know yet here you are. On the verge of tears because this damn fool won't remember you. Happiness is a privilege.

Staring into the distance you don't see the way your husband's glare thins out, neither do you notice how he leans forward invading your personal space.

"Care to explain how we got into this situation?" Breath fanning across your face exactly the same way it had months ago you gulp and realise he's staring at your lacy nightgown in sheer distaste. Oh no, He's got the wrong idea completely.

You jerk your head up to explain and only then is the close proximity between the two of you evident, you nearly knock your head against his as if you're inebriated. "No, no. We've never done that. I promise we haven't. I wouldn't take advantage of you." You're sputtering and are all over the place trying to hold some sort of ground in this conversation.

"I see that you saw no issue with taking advantage of me in other ways. You scheming money hungry roach."

You want to clear your name and tell him you really haven't touched any of his money. None of it at all to the point it's shameful to admit, especially considering the fact that everyone else sees you as Duchess Ackerman.

"I have not spent any of your money I swe-".

A deafening bang resounds through the room - in his fit of rage he kicks one of the solid oak drawers at the side of your bed to the floor.

A squeaky gasp falls out of your mouth and you flinch away as you cover your chest defensively. Your arms aren't the best armour but they work for now. If he's to stab you your worst fear is him piercing through your heart. What you fear most is him ripping the vital organ out of the confines of your chest. If he laughs hysterically and watches it bleed out you'll never forgive him. Your worries and doubts are internally eating away at you as you witness the darkness seeping into the corners of his vision.

It's quiet and dark and with him as well as a heavy silence looming over you, the pressure on your shoulders is quite literally immense.

He takes a hold of your chin and obnoxiously squishes your rosy cheeks together, dark tundra eyes never falter from yours, that is until they abruptly sink south and he catches drift of the way your night gown has ridden up. Thighs on full display you want to pull the edges of the material down but are too afraid to move under his deathly stare.

"Do you know how long I was stuck inside of my own body? Having to act like a fool on the daily."

"What?" You shakily reply through parted lips.

He was able to see everything he did under the spell? This changes the dynamic significantly. Cheeks flaring up in embarrassment you recall how you ate up all the sweet nothings he whispered into your ears, the scarlet blush creeps to the back of your ears when you think back to how you fervently kissed him goodbye whenever he was sent to venture outside the walls. The sanguine tint only intensifies when you think about the night where you accidentally let his bare hands venture a little too far.

"Naive little thing," he grunts. "You will never be my wife." He scowls sniffing at you in pure repulsion.

Whiskey, cigarette fumes and strong sweat infused cologne revoltingly is what you're reminded of when you hear those words leave his mouth. The stench isn't present but nevertheless you feel your throat constrict, never expecting to see any sort of parallel form between Levi and that man. The one time you stood your ground against Father it led to you being dragged away from the palace grounds, beat until you were unresponsive and left for dead. He left you there with the intention of extermination, his final words as he bid you goodbye that night had been - "You will never be my daughter."

You have no words left to offer, you're tongue tied. Expressionless whilst he gauges your reaction, the both of you don't register how Levi's grip on your cheeks loosens, that is until the look in his hooded eyes changes. They're inky now smoldering with resentment, he lets go of the hold he has on your face completely.

The separation between your face and his palm is stony.

All you want at that moment is for Lev to come back and wake you up from all of this. You've had enough of this sick and twisted nightmare where he doesn't look at you the way he normally does. The way he manhandles you irks you and lights a dangerous fire in your stomach.

Blinking your tears away you finally speak after your long silence "I know that My Lord." taking what may be one of your final breaths you announce the unthinkable "Feel free to finish what you were unable to last time."

"No begging?" he chastises you pulling you by the back of your ear.

"Would you spare me if I did?" The close ended question you respond with leaves him stiff.

Snatching your forearm you note that even when he's not under the constraint of the spell physical touch is consistently one of his ways of getting a point across. He jerks your tired form forward. "Who do you work for?"

Blood running cold you know he won't kill you now. He thinks you've come here with a purpose, a motive, a reason. Hell, all you did was ask to be loved, to experience something before the candle which was your life burnt out.

"No one. You said you were conscious in your mind whilst it all happened, correct?"

He nods albeit begrudgingly.

"Then you must have seen how I tried."

His right eyebrow cocks upwards ever so slightly. "Tried?"

Now it's your turn to be frustrated. "Tried to keep my distance, tried to ignore your advances, tried to refuse your gifts, tried to maintain a level of respect so the both of us would have some dignity remaining if you were to return some day. When I realised you would not stop with your persistence I accepted." You fumed - the fretful irritation you feel only increases by the second.

"Cut the crap." He snarls at you.

You want to snarl back with just as much impatience but you bite your tongue.

Maybe it's because it's late at night, maybe it's because you're fatigued or maybe it's because you already felt feverish and emotional - Honestly, any other reason apart from your husband turning his back on you and announcing you're a mongrel. Feeling light headed you clutch at your scalp harshly trying to control yourself, even Levi's firm hand which until recently held your left arm recoils away.

Falling to your knees you feel the way the floor grates against your bare legs. Your urge to pass out is nearly met but then you hear him.

"Honey???" The concern in his voice which had made you fall in love with him now repulses you.

Fists balling at your knees you silently sob, pitifully shaking your head.

This can't be your reality.

It can't be.

You won't let it be.

That night you find out nightmares can happen in real life.

Levi Ackerman being a prime example.

After the bitter encounter you leave the room and order Lev to not come after you, you need your own space and as much as you want him to return to his sweet, loving self it's pathetic to seek any comfort in him. That tyrant is bound to make another appearance soon enough and mock you for falling into his trap again, but really can you blame the man? Is this his fault or your own?

Whoever is at fault there will still come a time where the Levi you love won't come back and call you his Love. You'll have to get used to that bleak desolate reality. Assuming he doesn't kill you before you have to.

Day has now broken and the brisk morning air bites at you, scantily clad in your nightgown, It's abnormal, you think to yourself. The position you're in is one you imagined countless times but you never really thought you'd end up this way. You're about to drift off to sleep right there in the middle of the Estate's field of hydrangeas, too tired to actually care anymore when you hear a rustle from one of the surrounding bushes.

"Duchess?" Your head turns when you hear Mikasa's soft voice emerge from the hedges, she steps through them and you both stare at each other. Mouth open, gaping in shock she takes in your appearance. You can only imagine how you look right now. Dark eye bags, you aren't wearing your usual noble attire not to mention Levi has accidentally left a bruise on one of your arms. It's faint because it is accidental (you hope) it does not go unnoticed by Mikasa.

Her gaze hardens and she approaches your disheveled form kneeling in front of you.

"What happened?" She whispers, the panic is evident in her voice and you awkwardly chuckle in response.

"I had a horrible nightmare. That's all, honest."

"And it's Y/N need I remind you again?" Mikasa is big on respect and sure, it is cute but you want to remind her it really is okay to call you by your first name. After all you would consider her a friend, you hope she sees you the same way.

Giving you a look of disbelief she takes the hint that you don't want to talk about it but much to your delight she does take the advice regarding your name. She sounds hesitant but that's how she usually is, she'll get used to it in no time at all.

"Well...Y/N, Breakfast has been prepared." You can see the way she eyes your unkempt hair and shivering form. "Would you like to eat with me and Sasha?" this is her way of comforting you.

Your lips quirk up into a smile for the first time in a while.

"I would love that."

Twenty minutes and a change of clothes later you've all relocated to your tea room, Sasha doesn't ask questions about your hair or odd choice of clothing earlier this morning. The shadows Levi's fingers left on your arm are now carefully hidden by the sleeves of your baby blue dress. "Oh! Viscount Kirstein me and Y/N saw him yesterday. He's just like the rumours." Sasha exclaims as she stuffs her face with a croissant.

Mikasa takes a short sip from her tea cup. "And the rumours would be?"

You pick a cinnamon roll from the center of the table."Undeniably handsome. I mean he's not my type though."

Sasha looks momentarily confused. "He was drop dead gorgeous what do you mean?"

You laugh a bit at the disbelief on her face, Mikasa chooses to not intervene - she's obviously yet to come to her own conclusions about him.

"Yeah but you said it yourself he fucks anything in a skirt." Sasha, is wide eyed at first and chokes on part of her buttered croissant, you have never been so vulgar before. You guess the argument has left you more likely to voice your reckless thoughts. Snorting you try to keep your laugh in, the ghost of a smile makes its way to Mikasa's face and eventually she too dissolves into a puddle of laughter. The three of you laughing together genuinely eases the recent burden on your soul.

Just as you're about to crack another joke the door to your tea room rumbles.

BANG!  You seem to always be cut off when you're here because Eren Jaeger has burst inside perhaps for the seventh time this month. It's the same routine as usual, he's panting and catching his breathe before he speaks. You're in no mood to hear what he has to say.

"If the Duke has sent you please leave."

Mikasa gives him a "You better not ask any questions and take the damn hint" kind of look but bless Eren for he is completely and utterly clueless.

"It's urgent."

"Still rejecting." You hotly reply.

Mikasa icily interjects "Eren, would you stop being so bothersome?"

He looks between you and Mikasa helplessly. "The Duke says he expects your refusal but I can't return empty handed, I'll be given a punishment and it'll be worse than being made to clean the stables." He gives you a pleading look and he's so much younger than you, it makes you feel like he's your responsibility. Eren has a charming way of making himself feel like everyone else's annoying younger brother. You accept that he can't suffer because of your selfish denial.

Sighing deeply you take a final bite of your roll, if you're going to die you may as well do so on a full stomach. Before you depart you awkwardly get to your feet dusting your dress to buy some time as you bid Mikasa and Sasha goodbye.

You're now following Eren through the halls of the estate. Deep down inside, you know you aren't fearful. He won't kill you, not yet at least, he thinks you're a useful source of information relating to his external enemies, he would be stupid to overlook that detail. You'll exploit it for now, your key is survival, it always has and always will be that way.

Bumping into Eren's back you apologize for being absent minded, you swear the walk to Levi's office has always been much longer. He spares you a worried glance and looks as if he's about to offer you words of support but he stops himself before he opens the heavy door to Duke Ackerman's office. Perhaps he doesn't find it appropriate. Good, you think to yourself. You don't wish to hear motivation from anyone right now, it's nothing personal, it's that nothing can possibly be of motivation right now.

The door opens ever so slowly, your brain races making everything move at a sedated pace. Then you find yourself jolting upright in surprise. You soon realise expecting Levi to be the only person there was naive on your part. Eyes tensely land on the blonde in one of the cushioned caramel chairs. It's the Commander of the Empire's entire battalion — Erwin Smith.

Levi has ratted you out for sure, you spare a glance towards him and see the way he's trying to hide his feelings of amusement. You want to lunge over his desk and wipe that smug smirk off his face. The playful lilt in his usual unreadable expression is driving you mad. Next to Erwin is respected and high ranking Squad Leader Hange Zoe, you're quite well accustomed with them you've exchanged your fair share of words together and Hange has never failed to bring a smile to your face. The amusing air around them lights up any room they're in... Apart from this one that is.

Eren closes the door behind you and you're silent not really knowing what to do.

"Take a seat my beloved." Levi drawls. This isn't Lev you know that much, he's always enthusiastically jumping to his feet when he greets you.

Awkwardly sitting in the chair next to your husband you shake Hange's hand first then move to shake Erwin's. His warm palms envelope yours and he places a hand on your left shoulder. It's not at all similar to the way Levi held you earlier in the morning, the feeling is genuine. He has no ill intentions, all he seems to want to do is open a conversation.

"Y/N, we may not have much time but." He stops, unsure if it's for dramatics but you still intently listen.

The sea that is his blue eyes draws you in, you've only ever seen him from afar. If honesty and gentleness were a person it would be him no doubt about it.

He pats your shoulder and you snap out of your day dream. "Y/N. Thank you for your sacrifice and commitment to this Empire." His warm yet serious smile which follows simply confuses you, in fact this entire situation is doing that.

Jaw slacking you're dazed and bewildered, your thoughts are diverting in all sorts of direction now.

Whatever does he mean by sacrifice?

[inkandpen22]

Young Hearts Divided (6/?)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader / James Potter x Female!Reader 

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, mentions of underage drinking

Word Count: 3.3k

Part Summary: Y/N, James, and Sirius wake up the day after the party with no recollection of what happened. Then, while Y/N is studying with Lily it hits her like a ton of bricks. 

Masterlist

Massive, horrible, no good, very bad, migraine. This day is going to be miserable. All I can do is thank the universe that we don’t have classes today. I did, however, promise Lily that I’d help her on our Potions project. Marlene is our other partner, but based on the fact that she’s wasn’t moving this morning, I don’t think she’s going to make it.

Gathered around our usual spot at the Gryffindor table, I spot my friends as soon as I enter the Dining Hall. Lily and Remus appear normal, along with Peter. James and Sirius, look like real shit. James’s head keeps slipping out of his hand and Sirius is sporting sunglasses, real unsuspicious. I ease down onto the bench beside Lily with a groan. Similar to James, I rest my chin in my hand, barely awake.

“And it’s alive,” Lily teases, already pouring me some much-needed coffee.

“Gremlins are pickaxing my brain,” I whine.

“That’s what you get for dividing up a bottle of Firewhiskey with Marlene,” she ridicules lightly.

“What?” I frown. “I don’t remember doing that?”

“What do you remember?” Remus interjects, his eyes peeking out over his book.

I struggle to recall much of anything. I remember the game, getting back to the tower, changing, people arriving at the Common Room.

“Do you remember dancing on the table?” Lily snickers, picking up my plate to make it.

My jaw drops, “I did what?!”

“Oh yeah!” Peter lights up.

James starts to giggle, “hehe, I remember.”

I reach across the table weakly and bop him on the head.

“Ouch! Headache!” He whines and rubs his hair to ease the assault.

“I don’t remember that,” Sirius finally speaks up, his voice groggy.

“You don’t?!” James gasps, glancing at his best friend beside. “It was the best thing I’ve ever seen! She looked like a goddess, by far the best dancer to ever be in Gryffindor! Oh, and let me remind you of the red leather skirt! I-”

“Thank you, James!” I shut him down before he gets started. “We get it!”

“No, I don’t think we do,” Sirius snickers and nudges his friend to go on.

James shifts in his seat to face Sirius, “well you see, it had two zip-”

With a stone-faced expression, Remus closes his book with a deep sigh and swats James on the back of the head.

“Ouch! Headache!” James shouts at his friend on his other side.

Remus ignores him fussing and opens his book to where he left off.

James mumbles complaints under his breath as he turns back to face the table. He rubs the back of his head with a pout.

“Did anything else happen?” I question, almost afraid to ask.

“I don’t remember what you did after that,” James informs.

“Sirius was the one who got you down,” Remus interjects, not even glancing up from his textbook.

My attention flickers from Remus to Sirius. He removes his sunglasses and peers past James at his studious friend. His brows are scrunch together in evident confusion.

“I did?”

Remus hums while he flips his page. “Like you Santa Clause with his sack.” His eyes quickly meet mine, “not to compare you to a heavy sack of toys, Y/N.”

“You’re fine, Remus,” I dismiss, knowing that boy would never intentionally insult me.

Sirius hum, visibly racking his mind to the memory. “What about after that?” He questions.

“Don’t know,” Remus mumbles. “You disappeared after that.”

Sirius looks at me and I hold up my hands. “No idea,” I tell him.

“Well you guys ended up in your beds, so you probably helped her to bed,” Peter reasons.

Sirius and I nod in unison, trying really hard to remember, but to no avail. Then, we shrug and continue with breakfast. It’ll come to us eventually. Peter is probably right, Sirius and I have gotten drunk together loads of times. We always end up in our beds at the time of night somehow. It was probably just like any other night.

__________________________________________

Lily and I have been in the library for most of the afternoon trying to finish up this stupid project. I swear Slughorn has it out for us. He wants us to fail his class and glorify the kids in his idiotic Slug Club like dear Lily here. My mind starts to wander to breakfast this morning which makes me think of last night. I can’t believe Marlene and I danced on the study table to Bowie. Then again, Marlene would make that happen.

“Are you excited about Hogsmeade this weekend?” Lily asks quietly as she writes.

I sway my head from side to side. “Kinda, I’m sorta nervous to go with James.”

“Take me then,” she jokes.

I laugh for a second, then a sudden sense of deja vu crosses my mind. My face falls and I lean forward. “Could you repeat that?” I whisper so Madame Prince doesn’t hear me.

She peers up from her paper, “I was just kidding-”

“No, yeah I know, just say it again,” I wave along.

“Take me then?” She repeats slowly, staring at me like I have three heads.

I repeat the phrase in my head like a broken record. Where have I heard that before? It sounds so familiar like it’s important or something. Then, it hits me like a smack across the face.

“Holy-” I cover my mouth.

Madame Prince shushes me instantly. “No yelling!”

Lily struggles not to burst out laughing. “What was that about?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” I blurt out and hurry to gather my things. I rise from my seat and start shoving things into my bag. “Excuse me!”

“Where are you going?!” Lily raises her voice.

“I have to...” I hesitate, I don’t have an excuse. “I’ve got to go!”

I briskly turn on my heels to head toward the door. Instead, I slam into someone. I stumble back but catch myself. My eyes are met with Sirius stabilizing his balance.

“You!” We say in unison.

“No, you!” We point at each other.

Madame Prince shushes us dramatically. “If you must talk, take it out in the hall!”

Sirius takes my hand against my will and drags me out into the hallway. He checks up and down the corridor and determines there are too many people. Since it's a Sunday, most students hang out around the castle. I struggle to keep up with his pace as he yanks me along to a nearby classroom. He swings open the door and peeks his head inside.

"Sirius, it's all dusty!" I complain, digging my heels into the stone floor.

He pulls me in first, completely ignoring me.

I grunt, stumbling to catch my footing. When I manage, I brush down my skirt and face Sirius as he latches the door. “Was that really necessary?!”

He spins on his heels and points at me accusingly. "We shagged last night!”

“Almost! Okay? Almost!” I emphasize.

“Okay, fine! We almost shagged!” He complies, holding his hands up in surrender.

I'm slowly starting to recall the experience in the alcove. There was a lot of biting, teasing, swearing, hair pulling...

Sirius raises a brow, "what stopped us anyway?”

“Fitch and Mrs. Norris doing their nightly rounds. We almost got caught!” I hiss under my breath, worried that someone walking by may overhear.

His confused expression doesn't disappear. In fact, it intensifies as he narrows his gaze at the floor trying to pinpoint it all together. “And I didn’t try to continue once we were in the clear?”

“No, you were the one who suggested we head back so I wouldn’t get a third detention," I remind him of that crucial point.

Sirius's face morphs as if he's been told the world is coming to an end, a mixture of devastation and regret. Yet, also wonder, as though he's mentally asking him 'did I honest-to-God do that?'

“I chose then to be a rule-abiding student?!” He shouts.

“For my sake!” I justify in a whisper-yell. "We need to be quiet or-"

“Ugh!" Sirius paces away, hiding his face in his hands. "I really hate myself right now," he groans.

“Sirius!”

He whips around and complains. “What?! Can you blame a guy?! We were this close,” he gestures with his fingers.

I sigh, trying to remain civil. If we keep shouting someone will hear us then we will for sure get detentions.

"Look, it’s probably for the best!” I try to look on the bright side. “We were drunk.”

He whines, stomping his foot with a pout etched on his lips. He grumbles, “it would’ve been drunken...sloppy..." a dazed expression crosses his eyes. "Sweaty...  passionate-”

“Sirius!” I stop him, covering my ears as I grimace.

“I know! I know! Shut up, Sirius!” He mimics my voice.

There’s a prolonged pause as the two of us avoid meeting eyes. Well, this is awkward... Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against a nearby desk. After a moment, I glance up from my shoes and Sirius’s eyes are narrowed, focused ahead on the wall.

I break the silence monotonously, “you’re still thinking about it aren’t you.”

“Yes!” He whines, failing about dramatically.

“Stop thinking about it!” I demand.

“I can’t! While you were in the library with Evans, James and I snuck into your room so he could show me the red skirt in hopes that I would remember!” He confesses and instant regret crosses his features.

My jaw drops and I storm across the room to him. "You’re kidding me!”

“That’s when it hit me! Everything! Then, I ran to find you!” He waves his hand, gesturing to me.

“Where was Marlene?!”

Forget staying quiet, that was before I knew Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum broke into my dorm!

“Oh, she was there," he nods, not caring in the slightest. "Yeah, she was passed out in bed.”

"You went in there when she was sleeping?!” I laugh breathlessly in disbelief. My fingers comb through my hair as I try to rack my brain around this new information.

“It’s not like we haven’t snuck in there before,” he adds as a side-note casually.

“What?!” I gasp.

Sirius quietly curses himself. “Never mind!” He rushes out.

I march toward the door. “I’m going to kill Potter!" I unlatch the lock and go to open it. "Then, I’m going to come back and kill you!”

Sirius jogs after me. "No, wait!”

He slams the door shut, pressing his palm against the wood beside my head. My fist remains around the handle and I feel Sirius close in on me. The warmth of his breath brushes against my neck and chills run down my spine. His free hand glides across my waist and gives it a squeeze. I turn my head to the side, glancing at me him out of the corner of my eye. He towers over me, leaning against the door. His fingertips glide down my hips to the end of my skit and play with the hem. I spin on my heels to face him, my back now pressed to the door.  

“Sirius, we can’t,” I whisper, meeting his gaze.

“Sure we can," he steps closer if that's even humanely possible. "Filch is busy with detention right now and there aren’t any classes,”

“What is someone who walks in and sees us?” I question, my eyes falling to his lips uncontrollably.

"Let them," he mutters carelessly.

Slowly, Sirius closes the space between us and brushes his lips against mine. At first, the action is steady and gentle as though we're getting reacquainted. Then, growing impatient, Sirius wraps his hand around the back of my neck and deepens the kiss at an exceptional rate. I drape my arms around his shoulder, yearning for me. He drops his arm from the door and picks up my legs. I wrap them around his torso instinctively as he walks me over to a nearby desk.

“I let bet that even turns you on. The idea of someone seeing me pleasure you," he mumbles against my lips. His hands wander from my knees and up my thighs to the hem of my skirt. "The way I can make you wet just by touching you." He breaks away from my lips and impulsively presses his palm to my core.

The sudden contact makes me shutter.

A light snicker escapes Sirius. "Does it turn you on when I brush against you in class? What about all those drunken times we stayed up late?” He rubs his fingers against the fabric of my panties at a painfully slow rate.

“Sirius...” I whisper like a plead.

“Next class, I’m going to sit next to you," he states sounding like a command. "Marlene and James are just going to have to deal with it."

Grazing his fingertips over my hip bone to the hem of my panties, he starts to remove the item from my body. He does it so gracefully like the action is an art form. Sirius disregards the article of clothing by tossing it to the floor without much thought.

He brings his lips to my neck and begins to grant it immense attention. “I’m going to place my hand on your thigh under the desk," he describes as his palms press into my thighs. "As the professor talks, I’ll slowly bring it up to your leg. I’ll slip it under your annoyingly short skirt and your panties," he performs the actions as he recites them. "I’ll feel just how wet you are for me and I bet you’re always dripping when you’re around me."

His fingertips slip between my folds and I gasp. My fingers grip the hair at the nape of his neck in reaction to the surge of pleasure.

“I’ll make you cum right in class," he purrs, evidently pleased with himself right now. "Right around my fingers."

My breathing starts to get heavy as he rubs pressurized circles over my clit. I bite down on my lip to defuse my moans.

"From now on, I’ll constantly be teasing you, making you wet every chance I get," he breathes against my neck. "I’ll get you wet for me in the dining hall and make you beg for me to take you back to the dorm."

He picks up his pace, brushing his fingers against my clit. I feel myself quickly approaching my climax. His antagonizing words don't help my self-control.

"I’ll take you in the back shelves of the library," he snickers wickedly. "Make you want to scream my name for everyone to hear.”

“Stop...” I beg, the pleasure starting to be too much.

Abruptly, Sirius grabs my face and makes me meet his gaze. Starring at me sternly, he slips two fingers into my core unapologetically. My hands grip his waist pleadingly, but he continues his assault.

“You’re such a tease, Y/N and you don’t realize," he snickers wickedly as he brushes against my G-spot relentlessly. "With your short skirts, your perfect lips, the way you look at me." He leans in, peering down at my lips to tease me. "You get me so hard. All I want to do is take you into an empty classroom every second of every day, bend you over a desk, and punish you for it. I want to make you feel how I feel.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Oh fuck,” I whimper.

“I see the way all the boys look at you, especially James. They imagine what it would be like to be inside you. But you’re mine, aren’t you? Only I can fuck you. Only I can make you cum so hard that you shake. Only I can fuck after you finish and make you beg for me to stop.”

"Sirius, I-" I gasp, the pleasure building up in my core is close to reaching its peak.

Sirius dismisses my pleading and grows more forceful. He gathers bits of my hair and tugs at them to make me reveal my neck. “I can make you cum with my hard dick inside you. I can make you hit your climax right here," he growls in my ear.

His fingers pump in and out at an increased rate, causing me to release a moan uncontrollably. I bite down on my lip, doing my best to suppress it.

"Would you scream for me, Baby?" He kisses my jawline softly. "Would you let me fuck you hard after?” He moves and plants a kiss on my neck.

I feel my walls tightening around his fingers as I drag my nails down his back.

“You’re close aren’t you, Love? You want to cum for me?” He grins against my shoulder.

“Yes,” I pant pleadingly.

I hate giving in to him, adding to his ego, but I need this. I need him.

"You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes please,” I beg, struggling to catch my breath.

He presses his lips to mine passionately with more intensity than ever before. “That’s right, beg for it, such a good girl,” he mumbles against my lips.

Overwhelmingly, hits my G-spot with perfect pressure and at an ungodly rate. “I want to cum for me. You’re already so fucking wet for me. I could fuck you so hard right here, right now. Imagine me pounding into you," he instructs as I feel myself on the edge of my climax.

I dig my nails into his shoulder blades. I'm nearly there. "Sirius, I'm-"

Suddenly, Sirius slips his fingers out and takes a step back, parting from me entirely. My eyes fly open and I watch as the boy gazes at me mischievously with his fingers in his mouth. Casually, he picks up my panties and tosses them back to me with a proud smirk. Dumbfounded, I hold the item in my hands utterly confused. Sirius stuffs his hands into his pocket, waiting for me to say something.

I shift my head forward, "that’s it?”

“Umm, yeah pretty much,” he shrugs with a light chuckle.

Merlin, he had this planned! He was fucking with me the entire time! I'm not sure how much of it was a game, but he purposefully got me close and pulled out!

I hop down from the desk with a huff and slip my panties back on. "What the fuck Sirius?!”

He eyes me up and down as though he's analyzing a product. “Yeah no, I’m not going to fuck you, yet! You don’t deserve it," he determines.

I raise my brows, "don’t deserve it?!”

“Yeah!" He repeats, shifting his head toward me mockingly. "You. Don’t. Deserve. Me,” he emphasizes each word. “Not until you decide between me and James, no sex!"

He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. I swat at his arm, but it only makes him grip harder. Hover inches from my face grins. "And let’s be honest here, Love. You’re going to pick me. It’s just a matter of when you’re going to admit to yourself that you love me.”

Suddenly, he presses his lips to mine forcefully and I try to shove him off of me, but he's too strong. Then, he finally releases me with a jolt. He turns toward the door to head out.

“Sirius, I-”

He spins on heels with a cheeky grin. “And you do love me, don't deny it. You said so yourself last night... multiple times actually," he winks.

I scoff, he's impossible! The most infuriating boy on the entire planet!

He strolls toward the door with a wave. "Bye!”

“You man-whore!” I shout at him, so close to just smacking him.

“Tease!” He tosses back lightheartedly. His self-satisfied state unfazed by my insult. “Gee, I just adore our little pet names! Ta-ta Love!” He waves his fingers mockingly before disappearing down the hall.

What the actual hell just happened?

__________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @hannah220506 @agirlwholovescoffee @a-classic-eye @devilstradegy @blackbirddaredevil23 @tay-mariee @blackpinkdolan @findzelda

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 2)

tw: none, fluffy

wc: 2337

Part one!

Spencer almost ran every red light and stop sign on his drive home. He didn’t even put the radio on. The only music was the sound of his ragged breath and skyrocketing heart beat. It hadn’t sunk in for him yet that you were really, truly, gone. You had only called it quits a few weeks ago, and work was okay. Good even. Hotch was nice enough to split you guys up a lot, sending you with JJ or Derek and Spencer with the newest member, Alex Blake. In the few small interactions you had, the two of you were better than you had been during the last few months of your relationship. It was just like the old days, before everything went sour. He guessed that was just you faking how much pain you were really in, and he was right. He cursed himself for not noticing that either. 

He sat on his couch and opened up the box again to find envelope 1: 

“Okay, Hey Spence. I’ll try not to be so long winded, but bear with me throughout this. I want you to really understand what happened between us. 

These are going to go chronologically, so the story starts before we even started dating. The story starts the day I realized I loved you. November 17, 2010. So please take out: 

1. Welcome Interstate Managers- Fountains of Wayne. 

Please direct your attention to track 3. Stacy’s Mom. This may be my favorite memento from us. It’s so innocent. We were so innocent then, but not anymore.”

He took the disk out and ran his hands over the case. It had never been opened and still had the plastic film on it. He flipped it over and read the track list to find #3, ‘Stacy’s Mom’. He immediately knew where this was going. The memory hit him like a sack of bricks, knocking the air out of him and making it hard to breathe. 

“This also may be one of my favorites because it’s so not you. No one would think that Stacy’s Mom of all songs would be so important to us. But it is, because it was the beginning. 

We had just gotten back from that weird, awful case in LA. The one where the taxi driver had the weird smell thing and would remove skin from the victim’s feet? And Emily was being suspicious? Yeah, we had just gotten back from that one and Derek and I had each given you $50 to finish the paperwork for us. We were joking around and arguing about basketball of all things. I don’t have an eidetic memory but I remember that day so clearly. 

“Is this really the hill you want to die on Derek Morgan?” I said. 

“Yes, Y/N, Michael Jordan will always be the best basketball player of all time,” Derek said back.

“I’m just saying Lebron or Kobe could definitely pass him at some point! Especially now that Lebron’s on the Heat. Him, Wade, and Bosh are going to kill it.” 

“Why do you know so much about basketball Y/N?”

You weren’t paying attention to us. You were doing the work we should have been doing. You always were the good one, Spence. When Em or D  or I would go off the rails, you always kept it together. I admire you for that. I had a crush on you at the time. It wasn’t full blown yet, but it was enough to make me flustered and blushing any time I was near you. 

I told Derek that I was a pretty big basketball fan because my brother had drilled it all into me when I was a kid. He scoffed and told me I didn’t seem like the sporty type. 

“Well not everyone can kick down a door in one move like you, but I’m pretty athletic!” I argued. 

“Athletic? C’mon Y/L/N, Hotch keeps you and Reid at the stations for a reason. You’re not a bad shot but your specialty is interrogation.”

I faked offense, being dramatic as usual. But, really I was a little hurt and D could tell. You had finished the paperwork then, and handed both of us files. 

“Do you think I’m athletic?” I asked you. 

You smiled shyly, “I mean, you’re not the most athletic but you’re not bad.”

“See?” Derek said, and I shoved him playfully. 

“I’m not exactly athletic either,” You said, and you did the tongue thing that you don’t even know you do. The one where you poke it out of one side of your mouth. It makes me a little weak in the knees. 

“I was bad at everything at the Academy Y/N.”

“Yeah? Like what?” I asked, “You’re good at everything.” Derek laughed, but I meant it. You are good at everything.

“Marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's Alley, you know, pretty much everything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field.” You admitted, getting a sheepish smile on your face.”

Spencer stopped reading then, and wiped his eyes. He had allowed a few tears to fall as he read. He remembered this day so fondly. You guys have always been friends; the whole team is a family. But you always stuck more around Emily and Derek when you could. You worked with Spencer well, it wasn’t that you didn’t like him. In hindsight, you avoided him because of your crush on him. The thought made a smile creep up on his face. It was a watery smile, but still a smile. At that time in his life he was so insecure and unsure of himself but you always made him feel validated. When he would go on his rambling tangents about weird facts you always smiled and nodded when the others tuned him out. He needed that then, and, honestly, still needs it now. 

All of you, especially Spencer, were still reeling from the loss of JJ to the state department. It was a constant reminder of how quickly everything could fall apart. So, he needed good memories, good days. Days like November 17. A few of his tears smeared the ink and mixed with your dried tear stains. He sighed, how did he get here, only being close to you through mixed tears? He shook the thoughts away and kept reading. 

“This is a long one, sorry Spence, but the backstory is important I think. So anyways, we handed in the paperwork you did for us and we all went down to the parking garage together. Derek got in his car and left, probably to meet some girl of the week. Emily was gone, she was still being weird, which we all learned about later. Rossi? Hotch? Garcia? Who knows where they were. All that mattered was you and me, laughing about how not athletic we are as we made our way to our cars that we parked next to each other every day. I don’t even remember how we started the parking thing, but if I got there and I saw your car I made sure to be next to it. And you did the same. Somehow it made me feel safe. And of course, that day your car wouldn’t start. So I graciously tried to help you jump it, but still nothing. You reeled off the facts of how jumping a car works, but alas that did not get your crappy sedan to start. The two of us trying to fix a car is about as ridiculous as it gets. After our third jump attempt we gave up and I said I’d drive you home and we would get Derek to help us fix it tomorrow. You agreed and got in the passenger seat. There was crap everywhere, there always was. You always hated that. 

“How do you have like eight outfits just in the car?” You asked, tossing a dress into the back seat. 

“I have to always be prepared,” I said back, stifling a laugh. 

“Oh? And what does this prepare you for?” You asked me, holding up a tank that would barely cover my chest. 

I grabbed it from you and blushed. I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to say. 

“I’m kidding Y/N,” You said and we both laughed. It felt so right. So comfortable. 

You had on a very Spencer Reid outfit that day. Purple dress shirt, dark blue cardigan, purple and blue tie. You’re striking. Derek doesn’t lie when he calls you ‘Pretty boy’.

But anyways, before I fall back in love with you just by descriptions—“

He had to put the paper down then. It hurt. Every word hurt. You’d fallen out of love with him? You said the last rule was he had to remember that you loved him. You did love him, you just weren’t in love with him anymore. There is very big difference. He thought he may throw up again but he took a few deep breaths, the same way you taught him to when he’d get overwhelmed, and kept going. 

“We were sitting there and I started driving and I turned the radio up. You made that face, you always do when I put on top hits. 

“Sorry I don’t have a lot of Beethoven,” I joked at a red light. You looked over at me, and we made eye contact, which caused my breath to catch in my throat. 

“It’s alright,” You cleared your throat, “I know every word to every song I’ve ever heard, so I can follow along.”

“Okay, what’s this one?” I challenged, turning up the radio. 

“Rolling in the Deep, Adele” 

We played that game for a while. You guessing songs and me laughing. You got every single one right. 

“Oh! I need to turn this one up! I love this song!” I said. It was the very beginning of Stacy’s Mom. 

“Sing with me, Genius.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not singing! I-I can’t sing!”

“Too late, it’s starting.”

“As long as you promise to sing with me.”

We had our first pinky promise then. Your pinky was so long and large, mine so tiny. 

“Did your mom get back from her business trip?” I started and you added the “business trip” in the background. 

“Is she there or is she tryna give me the sli-i-i-i-ip? Give me the slip?”

You took over then, I think the line resonated with you, “You know, I'm not the little boy that I used to be. I'm all grown up now baby, can't you see?”

Then we took the chorus and the rest of the song together, jamming out like teenagers. My heart swelled. You singing, so relaxed with me, just made me so happy. You were comfortable with me. And your singing voice is pretty good too Spen, maybe if you hadn’t been groomed for the FBI you would’ve made a good singer. 

“I know it might be wrong but I'm in love with Stacy's mom.”

We finished the song together, practically yelling, and when we looked up we both realized I missed the exit for your place. I made a u-turn and dropped you off, vehemently apologizing for messing up. Directions were always your thing, not mine. You smiled and said thank you, and even pulled me in for a hug. When we came out of the hug, we made eye contact. The steamy kind like in movies before the two main characters make out. I almost leaned in to kiss you, but I pulled back and left. You waved to me from the door.  

The whole ride home I was freaking out. My heart was going insane. That’s the day I fell in love with you, Spencer Reid. I was teetering on the edge already, but sitting in my car with you, scream-singing Stacy’s Mom, that’s when I fell into the water. So put the CD in a player, turn it on, and listen to Stacy’s Mom. Every time I hear that song I will think of you, sometimes I even play it on purpose just to remember that day. To remember how complete I felt. Remember the electricity and tension. Remember how that’s the day you fell in love with me too. When the 3 minutes and 18 seconds of the song are done, go to envelope 2.” 

Spencer put the paper down and shakily tore off the plastic. You were right, that was when he told you he fell in love with you, but really he had been in love with you a long time before then. He had fallen for you almost immediately after you joined the unit, but he didn’t say anything. He told you he fell in love with you the same moment you fell in love with him because that would be perfect. And you deserve perfect. 

Spencer remembers a different day as the one when he fell in love with you. It was the first day you were introduced to everyone and Rossi raved about all your skills to the team. You dressed to impress that day, and impress you had. Not just your beauty, but your brain. That’s what he really fell in love with first. But that was almost five years ago. When his hair was too long and shaggy; a homeless poet was what he liked to call himself. 

When the song ended, he started it over. 

“She’s all I want and I’ve waited for so long,” Was another line he yelled extra loud, but you hadn’t written about it. He belted that one out because that was how he felt about you. How he still feels about you. He suddenly felt so claustrophobic, ripping off his tie and opening the top few buttons of his shirt. He paced around the room, the song still playing in the background. ‘How did this happen?’ He asked himself again. He lived it with you and still didn’t know quite how this happened. Knowing the answer was hidden in those pages, he got himself together enough to open up envelope 2.

PART 3!

[wilwywaylan]

Tangled Up in Blue - part 1

Fandom : les Misérables

Modern!AU, Enjolras & Bahorel & Grantaire & Feuilly oh my !! - 3300 words

Written for the @lesmissamepromptficchallenge, "Person A gently tilts Person B's head up". Of course I Couldn't finish it in one go so have the first part right now.

Béta-ed by the amazing @paon-de-jour

For @mu-mumie and @citron-au-miel, my eager readers !

Also on AO3 !

-

Left, right, left again. The fists struck the leather with dry, satisfying thuds. Bahorel was humming under his breath, following the rhythm of his hands as they hit the punching bag. That was the part of his training he liked the most, when his gestures became automatic, on autopilot, a metronome lulling his thoughts in an almost hypnotic way. During those few precious minutes, he was as close to peace of mind as one like him could be.

A noise came to disrupt the rhythm, pulling him out of his trance, steps coming from the open door. Of course, it couldn't last. Most of the time, he could only get a few minutes a day of this glorious state of being, before being cruelly called back to the mortal world. A glance at the clock told him that it was already a few minutes past six. All lessons were done with since four, and he hadn't any appointement he could remember. Then again, he tended to forget those, as they were only for the added paycheck and usually consisted of too-eager people who had watched one action flick too many. But as hard as he tried, he couldn't remember having any lessons today. So either someone had gotten lost in the hallways, or that someone was looking for him. Which one was better, he didn't know. Maybe if he stayed completly still and silent, the person would just go their merry way and not bother him.

A knock at the door. Ah. So much for not being seen. He vaguely thought about scaring them away, playing the role of the big bad asshole. But no. That would probably hurt at least his job, if not his reputation. And as much as he wanted to be on his own, he wasn't an asshole on purpose. So he composed himself a friendly smile and turned to the door.

For now four years that he'd been teaching boxing and kickboxing here, Bahorel had seen many different people cross that door, from children, impatient to start learning, to women looking for self-defense classes (they were often wary of him, but quickly warmed up to him), to people trying to stay in shape. Tall, small, large, thin, burly, willowy, he'd seen all.

But that one... Bahorel had never seen anyone like them. Not because they were tiny, even if they totally were. Almost pocket-sized, Bahorel inwardly snickered, but he'd never say it because he was not a totall ass. That one was tiny enough to get into heated conversations with Bahorel's collarbone, but there was something about them. What exactly, Bahorel couldn't put his finger on, but you couldn't just brush them off. Not just because they were cute. No, scratch that. Cute was for the tiny girls in the ballet room at the other end of the hallway. Or for the puppies he liked to pet in the park. Or... but not that one. As a lover of fine persons and pretty faces, Bahorel had seen his share. But that one could blow every one out of the water without even trying. Because they were not even trying. They were wearing a very baggy, faded red sweater that fell around their thighs, black leggings, and red converse that had certainly seen way too many things. Their long, blond hair fell in soft curls to the small of their back, but it was hastily gathered together without care, and from there, looked quite tangled. The few strands that had escaped framed a very delicate face, a soft oval with high cheekbones and a slightly upturned nose. But the skin was pale and a little red around the eyes. Nice eyes, even from there. Blue and large, with long eyelashes. And a black bruise around one eye. Another one marked their cheek, a dark purple almost shocking on the pale skin. Looking closer, the pretty mouth was split in two spots, and there was a cut across their forehead. Bahorel could recognize a severe beating from across the room, and that one was quite an impressive one.

He suddenly noticed that neither the intruder nor himself had moved from their respective spots. He stepped forwards, offering his hand. The tiny blond one shook it, firmly. Their knuckles were scrapped raw. At least they gave back as much as they got. Good. From up close, they were even prettier. Or they would have been, had they not been scowling that much. Granted, they still looked angelic, but in a ferocious kind of way. Really, Bahorel was starting to like this one. Several badges were pinned on the red hoodie : a purple, grey and black one, a red one with a white slogan, and a large, very obvious rainbow one. No need to be a genius to understand that one.

- Hello, kid, he said with a welcoming smile. I'm Bahorel, pleased to meet you. Pronouns are he / him. What can I do for you ?

The newcomer's expression briefly crumpled a little at "kid", but it smoothed as quickly when they heard the rest.

- I'm Enjolras. He / him too.

So the tiny one was a boy. Good. Not that Bahorel had anything against girls who wanted to learn boxing. Or non-binary people.

- And what can I do for you, Enjolras ?

- I need boxing lessons.

- That, I can guess.

Enjolras frowned for a second, then seemed to remember either where he was, or the wounds on his face.

- Can you take me as your student ?

When someone came at him for lessons, Bahorel usually gave himself a moment of reflexion, assessing his future student's stamina, determination, and especially their willingness to stop and listen. But there was something about Enjolras... He couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe the attitude, the way he was carring himself, ready to take on the whole world. The wounds on his hands were proof of it. Or something else entirely. Some kind of... radiance. A magnetism. Since he'd come in, Bahorel hadn't been able to take his eyes off him. And there was an edge in his voice...

Suddenly, his hand flew to Enjolras' chin and lifted it a little. To Enjolras' credit, he didn't flinch, just looked at him, a little wary. From up close, the bruise around the eye was really impressive, all black, purple and blue, the swelling still noticeable. What did they hit him with, a brick ? That must have hurt like hell...

Bahorel suddenly noticed where his hand was, and quickly let go.

- Seems like you can give as good as you get.

- I don't turn the other cheek, Enjolras retorted. So ? Can you ?

Talk about determination. Bahorel clasped his hands, to break the weird spell Enjolras seemed to cast around him, and announced :

- Well, ki... Enjy, how about you show me what you can do, and then we'll get the paperwork going.

Enjolras scrunched his nose a little at the nickname, and Bahorel was sure he was going to bolt without looking back. But no, he put his bag down, pulled the sweater over his head, and joined Bahorel near the punching bag.

- Okay, Bahorel started. First, you need to stretch, like this...

~*~

The chime of his phone pulled Bahorel out of his concentration. He glanced at the clock. 7 PM. It was time for his next lesson. Usually, he would have been quite cross to be kept so late, when there were so many best things he could have been doing instead. But he couldn't bring himself to be more than a very little bit annoyed.

He barely had time to stop the punching bag from moving, when Enjolras came in. He looked way better than three weeks earlier ; no more traces of what had happened. Maybe there was still a very faint white mark across his forehead, but you'd need to be very close to him to notice.

Enjolras took off his jacket, and walked to Bahorel.

- How are you today ? Bahorel asked with a smile. Ready to box ?

- I'm fine. What about you ?

- Strong as an ox ! Bahorel boasted, hitting his chest with a fist.

The gesture made Enjolras smile, and Bahorel's heart did a little jump. Of course it did, Enjolras' smile was beautiful, radiant, without a hint of cynism. Bahorel knew of many people who would have given their right leg and the foot attached to it for a smile as gorgeous at that one. Bahorel did his best to keep a straight face, and went through the warm-up moves with him, as usual. And it was a good thing for him that he was so used to the course of his lessons, because Enjolras' presence was very distracting.

When it came to aesthetic preferences, Bahorel was quite flexible. None of that "prefers blondes" or "only dates pretty ladies with long legs and nice boobs". It didn't take much to reach his heart : a nice smile, a fun-loving view of life, gorgeous eyes, lots of stamina, .... Nothing too complicated. Just someone who could keep up with him in every activity. A pretty face and a nice body were just a bonus.

At first sight, Enjolras may not fit with his criteria, as loose as they were (the criteria, of course. Bahorel wouldn't judge anyone for their promiscuity or lack thereof). His words were laced with fire and determination, but not the fun kind that Bahorel loved. The way he focused on the bag, as everything he did, told him that Enjolras was quite the serious person. Not that he never had fun, he probably did, everyone did. But not the kind of fun Bahorel liked to have.

But there was still this presence, this vibe that attracted the attention as soon as he came in and seemed to suck in all the oxygen in the room. Staying around him hadn't help with making Bahorel immune to that effect, either. Even now, as he was several feet apart, he could feel the draw, guiding his eyes back to the slight form of his student. Which didn't help in the slightest with his predicament. He was supposed to work (out), not oggle him. And still, every time he tried to focus on his gestures, on the way he hit the sack, and note what would need to be corrected. Instead, his eyes kept crawling back to the back in front of him. Enjolras was wearing only a long, thin shirt and leggings - leggings ! Each time he moved, the hem lifted, unveiling a thin band of skin. And those legs... Bahorel had to refrain himself from going higher than mid-thigh. He was a gentleman, at least in that regard. But his self-control was wearing thin.

Finally, after what seemed both like three seconds and an eternity, the clock struck 8 PM. Bahorel signaled the end of their session. Enjolras stretched his back, arms thrown over his head. Bahorel did a titanesque effort to keep his eyes glued on the floor. Only when the red hoodie disappeared from the bench it's been thrown on did he deem the situation safe enough.

- You're getting good, he said as offhandly as he could.

- Really ?

Oh please, no, don't sound that giddy. But Enjolras did, with a smile so bright it put the fluorescent lights to shame. Bahorel's heart did a sommersault, but he did a great job at bringing it back to its righteous place.

- Yeah. Soon your punches will be as devastating as mine.

- Don't mock me.

There was no hint of hurt in Enjolras' voice, and Bahorel was glad he didn't take offense.

- I'm serious, he insisted. You're making progress.

Enjolras nodded. As he gathered his stuff, he suddenly dug through his bag, and pulled out of it a slightly crumped sheet of paper that he held out. Bahorel's first reaction was to wonder if it was some kind of invoice, but no. Why would Enjolras give him an invoice ? Besides, it was brightly colored, too brightly, even, with large letters announcing something. Nothing incriminating there, he could take it.

It was a flyer, advertising some kind of social justice club. Very ugly flyer. They probably didn't have any graphic designer or art student in their little group. But the name in large, blocky letters was the same than on Enjolras' badge, and he seemed so proud that Bahorel would bet his montly wages on him being the leader, or at least had a hand in creating the group.

- What's that ?

- We meet each Friday night, Enjolras explained, beaming. Well this, and rallies. On Sundays, usually. We'd like to do it more often, but it's difficult getting everyone... (He coughed a little.) We're holding meetings to discuss all kind of social questions, discuss them, and try to set up ways to either implement changes, or raise consciousness about them.

Bahorel nodded along. He was right, it was a social justice club. Not that he minded them, of course. But he ? In a club like this ? because Enjolras giving him the flyer meant that he wanted him there, to talk about issues and march to protest them. All good, but Bahorel's approachs tended to be a bit more... hands-on. What could he bring to a group of well-meaning students ? But Enjolras was looking at him with such an expectant look that he couldn't bring himself to crush his hopes.

- Maybe I can drop by, he finally answered. I need to check first.

Enjolras gave him the kind of brillant smile that made him want to do something very stupid, and left with a wave. Bahorel glanced again at the paper in his hand. Then again, maybe it could be fun ? He wouldn't lose more than a few hours of his time, going there, and it's not as if his time was accounted for and precious. Going there wouldn't ask too much of him, and maybe it wouldn't be too much boring. And even if it was, there was still Enjolras to stare at, discreetly, of course. Whatever happened, the evening wouldn't be lost on him. Yeah, he would definitly check this out. All in good fun.

~*~

- So, how is the new kid doing ?

Bahorel refrained from telling Grantaire his new pupil wasn't a kid anymore, but that was Grantaire for you. Anyone younger than him was a "kid", except Bahorel, and that was only due to the fact that he could throw (and already had thrown) him through a (first floor) window.

They had gone for coffee after their training session, as usual. For three years now that they've been practising together, it's become their own ritual : a no hold barred match, followed by coffee and a snack, and eventually some first aid applied to their bruises and bumps.

Finding a sparing partner, getting friendly with him and setting the routine had been way easier than choosing a good coffee shop. They had tried almost half of Paris', but always, there was something wrong with them : the place was not clean enough, the coffee was subpar, the baristas were stingy, it was too cold, too warm... always, there was something wrong, and they were left coffee-shop-less once again.

Until they stumbled into the Café Victor, by accident. It's been raining all day, but the weather patiently waited until they were outside to unleash all its fury with a hail hard enough to cut them into pieces. They rushed through the nearest door for shelter. And that shelter was a little coffee shop. Like every trendy place, it had the dark metal / light wood combo, with fancy light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, and those weird high chairs that had a very low back. Grantaire hated those things. But it managed to have a distinct atmosphere, with many plants scattered around the room, and the walls being covered in frames : pictures, drawings, collages, in black and white or vivid colors. The main room was connected to a second one by two steps, with chairs of normal-height. A low stage had been set against the far wall, under a large, abstract, very bright piece. All this managed to give the place a cozy, welcoming feel, and Grantaire and Bahorel happily adopted it as their favourite coffee place in the world.

To the displeasure of one of the baristas. "Fiery redhead" surely sounded like a cliché, but Bahorel had never meet someone that fit it so well. He was a bit on the short side, built like a twig, covered in an array of freckles, and always gave the impression that Bahorel had been put on Earth for his personnal aggravation. Which wasn't entirely wrong. Bahorel was a flirt and a bit of a smart mouth, nothing too mean, of course, but the guy didn't seem like he could take a joke, and he had a tongue sharp enough to retort everytime. Which, of course, was like an invitation for Bahorel to keep his act.

They ordered their drinks, gigantic and full of an unhealthy amount of sugar, but that's what you needed after a good sparing session, the bruise on Bahorel's face bearing witness of the energy they put into it. The redhead was already busy behind the counter, but it didn't stop Bahorel from winking at him as he grabbed his drinks.

Once seated, Grantaire asked, around a gulp of coffee :

- So ? The kid ?

- Good, good. Lots of fire.

- Of fire ? Is that a metaphor, or real fire ? Because if it's like that girl, the one with...

- It's not like that ! Bahorel quickly amended. He's not an arsonist. Just.... very enthusiastic.

- I like that in a man, Grantaire said with a raised eyebrow.

- You like everything in a man, you scoundrel.

- And women, don't forget, but what can I say ? My love is a pyre that only needs the smallest spark to catch on fire.

- And you'll burn your wings.

- Such is the life of Icarus, what can I do ?

Bahorel fondly rolled his eyes, but they knocked their mugs together.

- So, Grantaire said again after drinking almost half of his coffee in one gulp, tell me a bit about the recruit.

- You're weirdly curious, but I'll humor you. So... just picture this : this high (he gestured above the ground), with long blond hair, very curly. Blue eyes, too, and...

He didn't go farther than that before Grantaire dissolved in a fit of giggles. Bahorel knew that it was no use trying to calm him down or ask him anything. So he just enjoyed the rest of his drink, waiting for him to stop.

It took almost five minutes before the giggles finally died down enough for Grantaire to breath again. He hiccuped a little, but managed to wheeze :

- Are you telling me that Goldilocks came into the bear's house and asked him for boxing lessons ?

Bahorel pondered on the merits of pushing him backwards, then decided to let go.

- Keep your snark for yourself. He seems like a nice guy.

Also, he's really cute, he mentally added, but did he want to say this ? Of course not. He'd never hear the end of if, not in this life, and maybe not even in the next.

- Oh, I bet, Grantaire retorted. A paying customer...

- You're despicable, Bahorel said in his best Daffy Duck impression.

Grantaire snorted in his cup. The redhead barista, who was refiling the napkin dispenser, glanced at him, but quickly went back to his work. Probably rolling his eyes. Bahorel stuck his tongue at him, causing a new eruption of giggles.

They ordered a new round of drinks, and went on to chat about their last training session. The wind was blowing the rain across the window, but it was warm, inside, and the coffee was delicious. Neither was in a hurry to go home, and they stayed there, enjoying their drinks and each other's company.

[basine]

Red and Purple (Taiyuu OCT Round 2)

@taiyuu-oct Oh boy... was this a fun one to write! CW: Burning, Scars, death of close friend. CW is listed in the story, so please feel free to read until then! After randomly being brought to the training ground by Wolfsboon and Aurora, Mei knew that there was a challenge coming up. She saw Ryujin standing there with her four dragons larger than Mei had ever seen them. In the entrance exam, Mei had fought Lux to obtain a small flag, but Lux was much smaller than they are now. Mei couldn’t help but get excited because this was going to be her first test. Not just a test for the teachers but for the other students as well. It was a one on one fight, with a dragon of one’s choice. Mei saw others go for Seafoam, Lux, and Jade. Jade was probably the most terrifying to Mei. The way that Jade held themselves made Mei always very cautious of them. However, Mei stared down the one dragon that no one seemed to have gone over to yet; Firecracker. Firecracker was known for being a little brash and known for being a little more aggressive. Mei thought that it would be an interesting test of her skill to go against a dragon that seemed to be more on the aggressive side.

Mei pointed to Firecracker and saw a little bit of fire come through their nose. Mei knew this was going to be a tough challenge for her. She had things to prove being new to the academy. She wasn’t the only new student, but she wanted to shine above the rest if she could. There was also the point of trying to prove something to Kirai Nahito, that she wasn’t weak and she could win a battle by herself. She grinned as she went to her starting place across the dirt stained city. While she was waiting for the command to start, Mei did a little bit of stretching, making sure to stay loose. It was one of the things that she learned very quickly here at the hero academy. Stay loose so that after training and or fighting you don’t end up with too sore of a body the next day.

The starting sound was issued and Mei started full sprint towards the dragon. She knew that Firecracker being brash and aggressive would do the same thing. As both of them charged toward each other Mei prepared a yellow card to potentially stun Firecracker so she could get around them. As the two grew closer and closer, Mei felt that presence in her head. Akuma was there with her. She wasn’t alone in this fight even if she was the only student on the battlefield.

As the two were mere yards from each other Mei tossed her yellow card toward Firecracker to blind them for a few seconds. The card struck true and Firecracker reeled back shaking their head. Mei sprinted around the back of Firecracker and grabbed two blue cards. She threw them at Firecrackers feet to try and freeze them in place. Both landed in the spot Mei wanted them to and Mei breathed a sigh of relief.

“Maybe this challenge isn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” Mei thought to herself.

Before the next thought could even cross her mind, Firecracker unleashed a breath of flame and immediately melted the ice holding their feet to the ground. Mei taken aback by this new development didn’t see the tail that was whipping around to hit her. It nailed Mei in the side and threw her a bit away. As Mei fell to the floor she tried to regain her breath. That hit really did a number on her, and it was only the first one.

Mei stood up, morale not shaken, and charged at Firecracker once again. This time she had a purple card in hand and was ready to bounce. As she quickly approached Firecracker she threw down the card and leaped. The trampoline-like surface that formed bounced Mei high into the air. Mei pulled two more cards, both yellow, and threw them at Firecracker and she backflipped over the dragon. Both the cards once again struck true and might last a little longer than the previous time, since there were now two cards. Mei in quick succession threw four ice cards at the dragon's feet hoping that the extra cards may be able to withstand the fire blast that was about to come once again. However the dragon flames were much more potent this time and once again melted the ice.

“I do not think that is going to work again, Mei. It seems that Firecrackers breath is way too hot for our ice to be effective.” Akuma warned.

Mei knowing that Akuma was right decided to sprint away from Firecracker trying to get the dragon to follow her. She didn’t have a plan at this point, but hopefully she would think of one. She ducked around the corner as she heard the dragon start to head in her direction. All she needed to do was subdue the dragon, so that it couldn’t cause any more chaos. Mei started to focus on all her possible options with the cards she had remaining. There wasn’t anything she could do with ice because Firecracker could just melt it away. She could attempt to stun and bounce Firecracker away, but that wouldn’t subdue the dragon. Time was running short as the sound of a dragon's breath got closer and closer.

Mei decided to act on instinct this time and flew out from the corner trying to surprise Firecracker with a gold card. She dug her heels in the dirt to drift around the corner allowing the card to have some extra spin on it, maybe catching Firecracker off guard. Mei chucked the card with all of her might at Firecracker and it spun. It was exactly on the trajectory that Mei thought it would be. It would land right behind Firecrackers head and stun him giving Mei enough time to hide. However, Firecracker saw the card coming and smacked it to the floor with his claw.

“Can’t keep using the same tricks on me! I am so much smarter than you give me credit for. You are going to need to try even harder to beat me.” Firecracker mocked.

Mei felt the rage start to boil her blood. She would not be mocked by a dragon about her capabilities as a hero. Mei without thinking let Akuma take over her body and started sprinting full force at Firecracker. Firecracker raised his paw to swat at Mei but her dexterity and speed allowed her to dodge out of the way. Mei zoomed around the dragon trying to confuse it, and maybe get it a little bit off balance. Jumping, doging, and stealthy making her way around the dragon seemed to work until her mind wandered off for just a second. He mind went to the girl that she actually started to like. Her name she couldn’t remember at that moment, but she knew she was real and Mei was trying to impress her. Unfortunately the opposite happened when Mei got flustered and tripped over her own shoes. Mei fell to the ground like a sack of bricks and looked up to see what Firecrackers next move would be. Mei guessed a claw to the chest but it looked like he hadn't spotted her at this point. As Mei went to stand up, she was blindsided by a swinging tail that burned with heat. Mei felt her skin burn a tiny bit as she was flung through the wall of a nearby building. As she was tumbling from the hit, she heard a large explosion happen just to the side of her.

Mei felt her body giving up on her. She felt weak. Her arms were so sore but also stung with pain from the hot scales that Firecracker had from his two fire blasts earlier. Mei felt her back ache and pop as she tried to move. She collapsed in pain, grunting and letting out a very muffled scream. She went to reach for her cards but only felt three left in her hand. She glanced down realizing that the explosion earlier was her cards being scattered across the battlefield. She had three left, one purple and two red.

Mei sighed. This was it. She wouldn’t pass this challenge. She would fail and make a fool of herself in front of everyone. She already probably got docked points for letting her powers slip out of control when she lost her cards. She could have endangered other people if they were around.

“Can I really be a hero? I… I don’t even know how to hold onto my cards when I get hit. What sort of hero loses control of their powers that easily… I-I can’t protect those who I love, I end up killing them…”.

(CW: Burns and Scars and death of close friend) Tears are running down Mei’s cheek as she remembers her best friend. The one that she killed because she didn’t understand how her powers worked or how potent they could be under the right circumstances. Her mind starts to project quick images of the house that her best friend lived in, burning in flames. Mei remembers trying to run into the house and being pulled back by other heroes as she tried to save her best friend. The pain she felt, knowing that it was all because she picked the wrong card. It was a red instead of a purple card causing the floor to catch on fire. Kimiko…

Mei looked down at her hands. If you looked closely through that dark navy skin, you could see the scars from when Mei reached into the flames to try and save her. Ever since that point, Mei couldn’t feel anything with her hands. The cards, her clothes, the bark of trees, even the dirt beneath her, all felt the same. The tears running down her cheeks she could feel, but when she lost Kimiko, it is almost like she lost a part of herself. The only time Mei had ever felt anything was when she held hands with Zuruko Kayaki, her new best friend. Kayaki! That was who she thought about before when she tripped. When they held that card together, for the first time in 3 years, Mei felt something with her hand. She could feel Kiko’s hand in hers. Just at the mere thought of that, gave Mei hope. She had to keep fighting, she couldn’t lose. She had to prove to Kirai that she could win, even when she drew a bad hand. She has to keep fighting to make sure she can feel again. She needs to keep fighting… for Kimiko.

Mei pushed herself off the wall. Her body screamed in pain but Mei kept fighting it. She had to. She walked out of the building bruised and sore but stood there and looked at Firecracker. Mei summoned all the strength and forced herself to sprint as fast as she could away from Firecracker. Her legs ached and were in enormous pain as she ran. At one point her right leg gave out and she stumbled but never stopped moving.

After putting some distance between her and Firecracker, Mei took out her last three cards. One purple, two red. Mei focused her energy on the purple card as she threw it to the ground creating a small 1x1 cube of purple bouncy material. Then she held both of the red cards in her hand. Instead of throwing them she held onto them. She crumpled them allowing the cards to activate, dousing her hands in fire. She plunged them into the purple cube she had infront of her. The flames tickled her upper arm where she could feel the heat blazing. She had one chance to subdue the dragon and she wasn’t going to waste it.

Working with her teachers, she learned that her bounce card doesn’t use momentum to activate it, instead it uses energy. Mei learned about this in primary school that fire is hot because of the chemical reaction that happens. It creates thermal energy. This energy is what Mei would use to power the cube.  As Firecracker drew closer, Mei picked up the cube, hands still burning and threw it. She tossed it like she did when she played left field in softball. She summoned all the energy she had and the cube soared. It hit Firecracker right in the chest. For a moment, Mei thought she had failed, that her untested theory would cost her.

Then, the cube expended all the energy it had contained within it and transferred it over to Firecracker. The dragon looked perplexed when it happened. Firecracker suddenly was thrown thousands and thousands of feet away outside the arena. The threat was gone. Mei had gotten rid of the dragon.

Mei looked down at her clenched fists still burning with red flame. As she stared, she thought about the house again. The house that burned. The friend that she killed. Mei shrugged it off. It was her fault, but it is in the past. Did she love Kimiko yes, but it’s time to move on. What is done, is done. There are more people to save.

“Imagine all the people I can save when I’m really a hero. I can’t save everyone and that is ok.”

Mei held her head as high as she could. Her thoughts drifted from Kimiko to Kayaki. Mei smiled. What she would give to be with her right now, eating rice and enjoying each other's company.

That was the last thing Mei thought of before she passed out.

[yukayjei]

Linked Universe FanFic: No Courage Without Fear, Part 3

Please enjoy this next part of this @linkeduniverse story!

Our Heroes confront their wicked foe at last! As with all master magicians, this dark Wizzrobe has a few tricks up its sleeve, some nastier than others...

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

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

The hooded sorcerer controlled fire and darkness. It controlled the very forest the Heroes stood in. So many unpredictable elements had been thrown their way in one night, they were not sure how to react or what to expect next.

But they had dealt with the unexpected. Today, yesterday, and in their adventures from long ago.

To the Hero of Hyrule, the Wizzrobe itself was the most unexpected element. In the past, they had always proved challenging, but the one standing just a few yards before him was on a whole different level. The common evil that infected the Bokoblins, the Moblins, the Lizalfos, and countless other monsters also afflicted this Wizzrobe.

And instinct told Hyrule he had only gotten a taste of this malefic creature’s powers.

He also knew he was ready to give it the fight of a lifetime. He reached for his sword; beside him, Sky copied.

They rushed forward at the same time. Magic and Master Swords sliced through the air so fast their movement blurred. The blows would have killed, but the Wizzrobe vanished before they connected.

“Not again,” Hyrule groaned as the shrill, maniacal laughter echoed through the trees. “This is getting old.”

“You can say that again,” Sky agreed, eyes and ears straining for any sign of their foe. Both hands tightened their grip around the Master Sword.

Without warning, it reappeared behind them. Before the Heroes could turn, a huge, dark wave slammed them to the ground. The Wizzrobe disappeared once again.

Though winded, the Heroes rose to their feet. The Wizzrobe appeared again, this time beside them, but at a greater distance. It fired the same black wave, but Hyrule’s shield reflected it. Clearly anticipating this, the Wizzrobe simply warped out of harm’s way.

So, it’s learned from before, Hyrule thought.

The foe’s movements sped up. It teleported every second, firing a magic attack each time. Hyrule was having a hard time keeping up, even with Sky parrying just as many waves with his sword.

But then, the Wizzrobe grew eerily silent. Now, it simply watched the Heroes. It might have exhausted itself, were it not for those deep crimson eyes betraying a more sinister motive. Deep in the hood’s shadows, the centers of its eyes now glowed a brilliant yellow. The wind picked up speed, and dark clouds moved to cover the moon— all-too-familiar signs of an oncoming storm.

The Heroes watched the Wizzrobe ascend, the power of its magic lifting it out of their swords’ reach.

“Maybe I can pull out my bow and shoot it down!” Sky gripped his pouch.

“Too late!” Hyrule yelled. “It summoned a thunderstorm!” As if on cue, an enormous lightning bolt struck the ground in front of them with a deafening crash.

The clearing was now a minefield. Scores of jagged white spears streaked from cloud to ground, leaving little room for movement.

The Heroes sprang back as one missed them by a hair’s breadth. Above them, the Wizzrobe’s entire form began to shine with electric light. In response, the storm intensified, if that was even possible. The wind felt like a hurricane. The boys’ ears rang from the constant, earsplitting thunder.

Hyrule brandished the Magic Sword. “I’m going for it!”

“What?” Even in his own ears, Sky’s voice was barely audible.

The Hero of Hyrule charged like he had absolutely nothing to lose. The last reserves of the Jump Spell coursed through his legs like a flood. He sprang up, his height equaling the Wizzrobe’s, and stabbed upward. The wicked sorcerer screeched as the blade tore cloth and skin. It reeled back, falling towards the earth.

As gravity reclaimed Hyrule, the Wizzrobe’s arm lashed out like a striking cobra and seized his left wrist. The young hero struggled, but the skinny, withered hand had a ridiculous vice grip.

From his position on the ground, Sky realized, with a surge of frustration, he could not attack the foe without risking injury to Hyrule. As he paced frantically, searching for an opening, lightning danced around him, dividing his attention and keeping him at bay.

The Wizzrobe, dangling Hyrule like a fish on a hook, pulled the boy closer until their faces were inches apart. Despite this, Hyrule still couldn’t see into the black void of its hood. It was deeply unsettling, to say the least.

He stiffened as the Wizzrobe leaned in even further. From the maw of nothingness, pointed yellow teeth unveiled themselves in a malicious grin. Earth-brown eyes met blood-colored pools as the demon hissed, “Remember me?”

His blood froze like a river in winter. That voice…it’s unfamiliar, and yet—! his mind raced, but it was like pulling a wagon with the rear wheels missing. Thoughts kept starting and stopping. Then why…? No! How? Could it—?

He didn’t get to finish. The Wizzrobe threw him to the ground with a force many times greater than should have been possible. Hyrule did not react, did not even try to break his fall. He may as well have been turned to stone.

In what felt like slow motion, the Chosen Hero watched in horror as his friend hit the ground with a sickening crunch and did not get up.

“No!” he shouted. Facing the Wizzrobe, blood boiling, he finally spotted his opening. Quick as a blink, he thrust the Master Sword skyward. The sharp steel conducted lightning like a magnet. Instead of electrocuting its holder, the sword instead absorbed the charge. Sparks arced up and down the blade.

Without hesitation, he swung down. The stored energy released in a spiraling blue disc.

It hit dead on the mark. The Wizzrobe wasn’t laughing now; it shrieked and writhed in agony before crumpling to the ground like a sack of bricks.

Casting his focus off the monster for the moment, Sky rushed to his friend’s side. The Hero of Hyrule lay still— too still. Sky feared the worst. Then, he groaned weakly and opened his eyes.

“Thank Hylia!” Sky exclaimed. “Can you stand?”

“I’m f-fine,” Hyrule gulped in air and it felt like swallowing thorns. He struggled to his feet, feeling lightheaded and ignoring the invisible sledgehammer pounding his skull. He gingerly touched his side and winced. Unlike Sky, he was definitely going to have a huge, nasty bruise after this. He was lucky nothing was broken.

The Wizzrobe’s breathing came in ragged gasps. Despite its heavy injuries, it still managed to wheeze out a few giggles like the whole situation, even from its perspective, was somehow funny.

Slowly, it rose. Head bowed, its snorts transformed into snarls. Darkness gathered around it, dimming the atmosphere even further. “You…”

Sky reached back and unslung his Goddess Shield. Hyrule tensed, trying to ignore his trembling limbs.

“YOU!!” the creature screeched. Its head snapped up, bloodred eyes swirling like twin maelstroms. “You will die!”

And darkness enveloped the demon like a tornado, twisting and surging until its form was unrecognizable in the vortex. For a heartbeat, a humanoid figure could be made out. Then it swelled up, gaining mass and muscle. Extra limbs grew out of its body, as did horns, hair, and a weapon.

The vortex dispersed. The Heroes, shell-shocked, could only gape.

Before them towered a giant; a black Lynel easily four times their size, carrying a gleaming Great Flameblade nearly six feet in length. Its right hand held a cruel bladed shield. Its mane and stripes were the color of smoke, and its eyes were the same hellish crimson that had been haunting the Heroes since the stroke of midnight. It bared its long, sharp teeth in a menacing snarl.

Hyrule’s voice was failing him. “By the Triforce,” he whispered hoarsely, “it can’t be.”

“Hyrule?” Sky shot him a concerned glance. “You all right?”

But Hyrule said no more. He was rooted to the spot, eyes wide and face whiter than a ghost. The Magic Sword dangled loosely in his left hand.

Sky had seen this before, in the Hero of the Wild. Hyrule was having a flashback. A bad one, from the looks of it; it had him utterly petrified.

Sky glanced furtively at his friend, not wanting to take his eyes off the Lynel, which crouched low to the ground and growled. It stared at Hyrule in an almost hungry sort of way.

It senses his fear! Sky realized with a jolt. And some instinct told him the Lynel also sensed why.

Determination surged through the Chosen Hero’s blood. He stepped forward and planted himself right between Hyrule and the Lynel. Pointing his sword directly at its chest, he said, “I won’t let you hurt my friend. But if you insist, you’ll have to go through me first.”

“Fool,” the beast snarled. Its voice had grown scarily deep. “You have no idea whom you’re dealing with. Stand aside. I will face the one who knows to fear me.”

Without flinching, Sky met its ominous gaze. “No. You won’t.”

All too eager to accept the challenge, the Lynel sprang high off the ground. It aimed the Flameblade’s tip straight down, at his skull.

The familiarity of the move surprised the Hero. Hyrule often executed it against tough enemies, a more recent example being the infected Moblin.

Being a straightforward attack, it could be easily avoided. But Sky realized he had no choice but to take it. The Lynel had him pinned. He couldn’t dodge without exposing Hyrule.

So the Chosen Hero gritted his teeth and, just before the Flameblade skewered him, parried with his Goddess Shield with all his might.

The impact created a clean ringing sound. Sky and the Lynel broke apart, but only for a moment. Sky rushed in close. Sacred steel clashed with metal forged in hellfire.

The Lynel lashed out not only with its Flameblade, but also with its shield and fists. But Sky was ready. He ducked and dodged every mighty swing, every blow that could crush his bones to dust. Every swipe that could cut him to ribbons. All the while, the Master Sword flashed like lightning as Sky slashed and cut. A hit landed every time; the Lynel would have more scars than stripes by the time this duel ended.

He’d cornered the Lynel right up against the trees’ edge. Its breathing was labored. Saliva and blood dripped from its fangs. Still, the sheer hatred in its scarlet eyes glowed ever stronger, as if that was all it needed to sustain itself.

It charged like a bull. Several hundred pounds of pure muscle barreled towards him. Sky jumped to the side only just in time. He thrust the Master Sword forward, but the Lynel evaded with supernatural speed. It slammed its shield into Sky, sending him hurtling into a tree. The Master Sword spun out of his hand like a boomerang and skidded out of reach. Trapped between a demon and a hard place, he had no room to move. Letting loose a triumphant roar, the beast raised its blade and plunged it into its foe.

Across the clearing, the Hero of Hyrule woke from his daze to see Sky pinned to the ground, struggling desperately against a ruthless barrage of attacks with his Goddess Shield as his sole defense. The shield was cracked, and it widened with every blow; it wouldn’t last much longer. Sky cried out as a mighty blow nearly shattered his left arm.

Hyrule yelled as loud as he could and charged.

Maybe he should have stopped and thought a moment. Maybe he could have drawn his bow and shot the creature instead of rushing in like an idiot, which is the absolute worst thing someone could do while fighting a monster as fearsome as a Lynel.

But Hyrule didn’t think. All he knew is that Sky needed just a few seconds to grab the Master Sword and get back into the fight, and by the Triforce, Hyrule was going to give him those seconds.

So he did something the Hero of the Wild would be proud of— he rushed up behind the Lynel, jumped on its back, and hacked and slashed like a man possessed.

In his rush to crawl away and reclaim the Master Sword, Sky paid no attention to the commotion. Relief swelled in when he at last held it again, but it changed to shock as he turned and saw Hyrule, clinging to the Lynel as it shook him like a squirrel.

“What in Hylia’s name are you doing?” he shouted.

“S-s-saving y-your life!” Hyrule gasped out, way too close to biting his tongue off. He couldn’t hold on anymore. Utilizing the Lynel’s frantic energy, he launched himself clear away from it and landed on his feet beside Sky.

Having shaken itself free of one pesky Hero, the Lynel sprang backwards, as far across the clearing as it could. Black blood poured out from many large and small wounds. Although it was weakened, a deafening roar, the loudest one yet, tore from its throat. Its eyes flashed like red lightning. The wind howled like a hurricane, shaking the cursed forest to its roots.

Taking a deep breath, Hyrule readied his sword and shield. “This is it,” he said. “If we attack it from both sides, this should be manageable.” He glanced at Sky. “Ready?”

Sky nodded, a steely glint in his eye.

But before either party could make a move, an arrow zipped between the trees and pierced the Lynel’s right foreleg. It staggered dangerously before losing its balance. Leaning awkwardly on its knees, it was down for the moment.

The Hero of Legend strode out with bow in hand, jaw clenched, and a face dark as thunder. “Trap me in a nightmare, will you?” he spat at the Lynel. “Consider that arrow your first and last warning.”

As he spoke, the rest of the Heroes emerged from all sides, eyes sharp and swords unsheathed. Each wore the same determined expression.

Surrounded by nine men and boys, each one skilled in swordplay, archery, magic, and a whole host of other strange powers and devices, the Lynel’s victory seemed uncertain. As it finally rose up, was that a glimmer of fear Sky detected behind its eyes?

The Hero of Warriors flashed a dazzling smile at Sky and Hyrule, who stood agape. “You two have been through quite the ordeal tonight! Still up for more?” He offered a hand to Sky, who still knelt on the ground.

The two exchanged glances. The sudden appearance of their friends had given them a tiny moment’s respite, allowing their exhaustion to pounce like a lion. If he were being honest, Sky wasn’t sure if he had any energy left. But one look at Hyrule’s resolute face, and he knew he had to finish this.

“You know it,” he said. He clasped Warriors’ hand and was pulled to his feet. “From dealing with this guy all night, I know it’ll take every single one of us to win.”

“Yeah,” Hyrule agreed. “Besides, we can’t let you have all the glory.”

Warriors’ grin widened. “Glad to hear it.”

Sounding a battle cry, the Heroes charged the Lynel.

[achtung-attitude]

CHAPTER 31: Hotel California - Part 3

The pain of the effect gradually lessens, yet in spite of his best efforts, Kilo cannot find the strength to stand back up. Pins and needles prickle beneath his skin, crippling his left leg and right thigh, leaving both as useless pieces of flesh. 

The cause of this effect, the bellboy named Marsellus, stands over him,  a strange figure hovering next to him: a creaking, metallic creature, bizarrely garbed in faded blue jeans and dark glasses. With each jerky movement of its arms, sparks fly out its joints, flashing light across its metallic body. “CALIFORNICATION...” he mutters. 

After a moment, he seems to remember that Kilo is in the room. “Oh! I beg your pardon, sir! Perhaps I could fetch you some refreshments to help you relax? We have tea or juice, or something rather stronger? We have a lovely vintage 1896 white--”

Kilo’s answer is to summon SATURN BARZ, but the Stand immediately flickers away. Kilo grunts, trying to force it into being, but in vain. The same power paralyzing his legs affects his Stand, as something like white noise on an old TV set distorts its form and prevents it from manifesting. He grimaces, resorting to crawling towards the wall, pulling himself with his hands.

“Please, sir, try not to strain yourself too hard. You might pull a muscle! In that event, all staff are trained in first aid-”

“Enough with the “sir” shit,” Kilo hisses through clenched teeth. He reaches the wall and pulls himself onto his back to sit up against it. “Drop the act already! If the Congregation wants us dead that bad, just fucking get on with it!”

The bellboy pauses. “... The Congregation… You mean Brother Dust is…?”

“I guess you figured out you couldn’t take us in a straight fight, so you pull this crazy place out of your asses!” he says, smiling bitterly, “Did Dust and that other guy get that scared, they wouldn’t dare handle us themselves?!”

“... Perhaps this is fate, or merely coincidence…? So strange… ten years without hearing from the old preacher, and now, his schemes enter my life once again.” 

“What… what do you mean?”

Marsellus shakes his head gently. “I am not with the Congregation, but I used to be. I called Dust my brother, but that was my old life. I left the gang over ten years ago, having found my true calling,” he gestures upwards, at the walls of the hotel. 

“That was until… Three days ago, I received a call from him, requesting my aid. To hold one of his... ‘assets’ and keep him safe, until such time as his enemies may be dealt with. And now, it seems, that very enemy has stumbled into my midst as well.”

“One of Dust’s assets?” Kilo says, “... Mann. The big guy! He’s the Congregation’s guy in politics!”

“I suppose so. It really has little to do with me. I don’t know what he plans to do with him, and I don’t rightly care.”

“I thought this Dust asshole was supposed to be smart. What was he thinking hiding his guy in a murder hotel?”

“Oh, he has me to thank for that,” the bellboy says, raising CALIFORNICATION’s finger, allowing little arcs of energy to flash between them, “Regular shocks keep Mister Mann from fully embracing the Hotel, though it breaks my heart. I owe Brother Dust, you see. If not for him, I would never have found my purpose. I live now only to serve as the Hotel’s caretaker.”

“Caretaker?”

“Yes, sir. There have been many employees, most of them former guests, of whom I can be counted as one. But of all them, I was determined to be most worthy of being the Hotel’s protector.”

Kilo scoffs. “Yeah, sure… More like it figured out you was more good to it alive than dead!” The buzzing beneath his skin gradually recedes, and feeling starts to return to his body. He stays where he is, waiting for his moment. “A slave with a Stand, gotta be a useful thing! Did you never even think about leaving?”

“I don’t understand,” Marsellus says, cocking his head. He is genuinely confused, “Why would I want to leave? … Why would you? What’s waiting for you on the outside? The Hotel provides everything you could need: comfort, companionship, beauty. Happiness. Out there, there’s nothing but struggle.”

An edge enters his voice, grating against his throat, “My life is simple here! So unlike my days in the gang! Constantly at war! Struggling over territory, money, prestige, struggling to keep my reputation lest I lose face! And even then, it can all be taken away from you in the blink of an eye! The Hotel…! The Hotel is not a prison, it’s a paradise! A paradise where you can become truly free!”

“Sure,” Kilo spits, “as long as you’re willing to die for it…!”

“Everything dies, in time… The lucky ones among us are able to die for something greater than themselves. Luther understood that. And I’m sure in his final moments, he was grateful.”

“Grateful? You’re sick… I’m sure of that much…” he says, pulling himself to his feet, at last able to feel his legs again. “And if there’s one more thing I’m sure of…” SATURN BARZ appears, still somewhat distorted by white noise, and CALIFORNICATION moves to intercept it. 

But rather than attack, Kilo’s Stand slams its clawed hand onto the floor beneath him. Instantly, it melts into slurry and he falls through, landing on a crouch in the room below. “NOOO!!” Marsellus shrieks, and in the same moment, a low groan is heard, seeming to come from all directions. The walls contort like muscles writhing beneath skin. Kilo looks up, and grins in satisfaction. 

“Looks like the hotel really is alive, like you said! And if it’s alive, then all I gotta do is kill it! I’ll tear this place down brick by brick if I have to!”

Marsellus sends CALIFORNICATION down the hole, but SATURN BARZ stamps its foot and another hole is melted. Kilo smirks as the Stand’s mechanical fingers fly over his head. Tiny arcs of electricity graze his forehead, but otherwise it misses him completely. He descends through one more floor, leaving the bellboy to stare down at him in impotent hatred.

“DAMN YOU!!” he roars after him, “You WILL be an honored guest, EVEN IF I HAVE TO BREAK ALL OF YOUR BONES AND STRAP YOU TO YOUR BED!!!” 

Kilo lands in with a crouch and a roll into a dark room. A fetid odor immediately assaults his senses, making his eyes water and his gag reflex act up. “What the hell…? ” he mutters, covering his mouth with his hand and squinting, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark. 

When he takes a step forward, he kicks into something meaty, causing Kilo to fall and land on his hands. But instead of feeling the soft carpet, his hands squelch and drip into a wet and pus-y subtance. A visceral chill of disgust throws him back onto his feet with an “Ughh!!”, and his backstep hits against something as heavy and organic-feeling as the first. The goo on the floor squishes beneath his shoes. His eyes finally adjust to the low light, and he fights the urge to vomit. 

Surrounding him are the rotting and bloated corpses of the recently deceased at the Hotel California. The bodies are in various stages of decay and rot, with some having their organs squeezed out of every orifice, with others merely skin draping off their bones. A shake comes over his hands, which he suppresses by balling them into fists and grinding his teeth.

Kilo dashes straight ahead until he finds a wall, then liquidates and dives out of the charnel room. He runs, wiping his filthy hands along the walls, soon reaching the room where he and his friends are staying at. He kicks down the door, and a wave of relief washes over him as he sees Shizuka and Jerome lounging languidly on the sofa, unharmed, unbothered.

“Whuhh…? Oh, hey Kilo… Did you find what you was lookin’ for…?” Jerome asks groggily as his friend shakes him awake.

“Yeah. I wish I didn’t. Get up, we’re leaving now. Shizuka…” Kilo replies, shaking Shizuka roughly.

“I’m so hungry…” she moans quietly, before being picked bodily up and carried under his arm. After a moment of difficulty, Kilo also lifts Jerome and slings him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Holding his friends tightly, he kicks open the door to the emergency stairwell and runs down to the ground level, leaping over every three steps. Upon reaching the bottom, he kicks through that door as well, bursting into the lobby. The exit lies less than five meters away. A triumphant smirk crosses his lips. 

Kilo makes for the door, glancing at the reception desk to see Martha still standing, waiting to receive guests this late into the night. “Good evening, sir,” she says, remaining behind the desk, “How may I help you?”

He ignores her, turning towards the revolving door. Escape is right in front of him. Kilo reaches for the handle and… his fingers close around thin air.

He blinks. Looking up the sight that greets him is Martha’s blank, smiling face. “How may I help you, sir?” she asks.

“What the fu--?!” Kilo exclaims, spinning around. The door is now behind him, and he is standing in front of the reception desk, as if without his noticing, he had been picked up, turned around, placed in a completely different position. Growling, makes for the door again, readjusting Jerome’s position over his shoulder.

He reaches, and once again grasps nothing. His foot kicks off the side of the decorative fountain in the lobby and he nearly tumbles into the water along with his friends.

“What the fuck is this?!” he yells, “Where did the door go?!” Indeed, though he was looking at the revolving door the entire time, it appeared to have simply disappeared in the time it takes to blink.

Martha says nothing, still staring at him blankly, oblivious to any concern. “Could the bellboy’s Stand still be affecting me?! I don’t understand this--!!” he thinks, desperately looking to see if Marsellus is around.

“Whoooa… trippy,” Shizuka says under his arm. She is looking up, and Kilo matches her view. The sight before him opens a cold pit in his gut.

The exit is now on the ceiling. The opening and the glass revolving door moves above him, the stone and plaster around it flowing around it like mucus.

While astonished and horrified at this, Kilo suddenly feels something pulling at him, in the opposite direction of the doorway. He stumbles, regains his balances and sees that it is not him being pulled, but the floor beneath him. The marble pattern beneath his feet is shifting beneath his very feet.

“What is this?!” he yells, ”Is… is this the hotel’s doing too?!”

“Why, of course. Were you not listening before?” says a voice from behind. Before he can turn, he is jabbed in the back by rough mechanical fingers and he screams in pain as electricity burrows through his body. His lungs falter and his fingers twitch. Shizuka and Jerome drop to the floor, and Kilo follows them soon after.

[mandala-lore]

In which Sandor faces his fears, Stranger behaves like a loyal dog, and all wrongs are soothed and corrected. Because it's fan fiction, dammit, and I can do what I want.

They fall. With one eye, Sandor meets his brother's gaze; enraged and undead eyes glare back at him. Gregor never needed words to convey his meager thoughts. "This is fitting," Sandor admits to himself, "I got to do it. I took him out of this world."

The fire surges up to greet them and faster than Sandor thought it would happen, Gregor's skull lands with a sickening crush. He feels his evil brother's spine snap in several places and dark, inhuman blood seeps from Gregor's crushed head. It makes delicate spray patterns all over the ashen bricks and rubble. Sandor thinks, "This is death." Then remembers that the dead don't think; at least he doesn't believe so.

His ribs ache - he knows at least one is broken. Gregor's enormous, monstrous form cushioned him just enough to survive. The Hound would've laughed grimly at that fact but Sandor is more afraid than he ever remembers feeling. Because now he has to get up.

It's impossibly hot. The smell of Gregor's rotten blood and burning skin is nauseating. As he tries to crawl away, Sandor realizes his left leg is broken, twisted incorrectly. And he's still struggling to adjust to his limited sight, the blood of an empty socket seeps all the way down his neck.

There is no where to go; the fire is everywhere, dancing around and under and over them - but the dust of the shattered walls of the keep extinguished the fire directly where they landed. At least for now.

Panic sets in and Sandor feels himself freeze, knowing he will Burn, burn again, burn forever. "This is hell," he thinks briefly, "one of seven. And I'm trapped here with Gregor in the fire." With one eye, he desperately scans the gray and smoky sky for any way out, anything to climb, but there is nothing.

Nothing but a bird, some carrion creature, circling the Red Keep. "Gregor is dead and I am alive," he thinks. And realizes with a sad, disgusting sob that he never planned for this, never hoped for it.

Everything is burning - but there's something beyond those flames, more death, more destruction, and somewhere, a very angry woman on an enormous dragon - but there's more beyond all that. There's peace and quiet. There's a bird in the North and a wolf-girl in the melting city.

So Sandor runs, well limps, to the edge of the circle of rubble, flames already eating away at the dust and bricks, and launches himself off an outcrop of rocks, straight through the flames and down a landslide of ruins.

Fire eats away at his skin, at his clothing; he doesn't know if he'll pass through it or become part of it. And just as quickly as they fell, he is through it, tumbling down a collapsed wall, hitting his bad leg and burned skin on the way down, extinguishing flames almost as soon as they touch him. And everything is dark and quiet. "Finally," he thinks, "this is death now, and no fire and no Gregor." He makes his peace with it.

Sandor comes to dizzy and confused, laying on and half-covered by an avalanche of rubble. Gregor is dead, he remembers. And Sandor does laugh this time and coughs at the smoke in his lungs. His arms are covered in terrible red burns but it doesn't hurt as much as he thought it would.

He drags himself away from the worst of the fire and ruins into a small alcove, miraculously upright. There's a pile of wood he breaks up, fashions into a splint, and grits his teeth as he snaps his leg the right way into place. He lets himself scream and cry. There's no one alive to hear him, not this close to the Red Keep.

Next, he hoists himself up, against the wall, struggling on one foot, with one eye, and only one arm working at his commands; the other shakes and twitches. There's blood seeping into his eye too, or perhaps out of his eye, he isn't sure. He feels a gash at the top of his head and abrasions and burns all over his neck, shoulders, and face.

He grabs another piece of wood to use as a crutch and readies himself to move. He will have to go quickly and quietly and find a sword or spear. The further he walks, there are more and more soldiers and people screaming and a dragon circling, angry and vengeful, overhead.

He can't move near as fast as he knows he should and he can't figure out where he is, everything is broken and burning and crumbling. The ringing in his head drowns out everything but the loudest screams and closest blasts of dragon fire. Mercifully, people ignore him and scatter in all directions through what's left of the streets.

Gods, he hopes Arya got out alive before the worst of the ruins could swallow her. "Stranger is waiting," he remembers, "I left him outside the gates." He never thought he'd see his companion again so he'd set him loose but the horse had stood there, stubborn as ever. Sandor hopes he's still standing there, unbothered by the war going on close by.

-

His head stops cooperating when he tries to clambor on top of Stranger. His one leg won't bend, his arms are shaking, his empty eye aches, and everything is spinning and going black. He just wants to sleep.

So he gives up and sinks into dirt and grass and thinks, "At least I'm not dying in that bloody city. At least I finished it. At least there's blue sky here."

-

Seven Hells, but the Gods just won't let him die. Everything hurts and that's how he knows he's still, somehow, alive. He coughs and a cool hand finds his forehead through layers of cloth. He can't see anything. "Blindness seems a fair trade for Gregor's execution," he thinks calmly. And then light seeps through into his good eye and he growls in annoyance.

"Too bright?" A small man is gently peeling away layers of bandages.

Sandor grunts in response, sluggishly waves the man's hand away, and tries to sit up. They're moving, riding on some kind of cart. There are lots of people and horses, he can smell and hear them.

"Don't try to sit. You've fractured a few ribs. There are splints."

Sandor sinks back onto the makeshift cot. The bandages come off but the man leaves a layer over the missing eye. "That won't grow back I'm afraid," he says. "But your leg and ribs just might heal, given time."

Was that a joke? This is going to be a long journey.

He learns they are riding North. He tries to ignore his heart pounding in his chest at the prospect of Winterfell - and her. He may not be a dead man, but he's a broken one. Still, it will be good to see her face again, he decides.

Someone, Jon Snow he assumes, decided the injured soldiers should return to Winterfell and bring any refugees who would choose to follow. It would be a hard march, no denying, but there were plenty of people who had chosen to walk into the mouth of winter, rather than stay in the burning city.

One of the soldiers from the battle of the dead had recognized Sandor unconscious near his horse and dragged him along.

-

It takes them a long time to reach the castle, with all their wounded and the dead they have to bury along the way. Each day, Sandor limps a little further, bends his leg a little more, heals slower and slower it seems to him. He tries to adjust to seeing through one eye and not to think about he's become even uglier, even more battered.

As the days pass, he peels away more and more layers of bandages. Half his torso and both arms are covered in burn marks now; not so deep and damaging as his original face burns, but ugly and wrecked all the same. It will be worth it all, just to see her again. Just to outlive his brother. Just to live at all.

-

Winterfell looms above them. Stranger has followed close to Sandor's cart the entire trip, stubbornly refusing any rider and biting several men who tried to mount him. Now, Sandor feels strong enough to ride, if only his splinted leg will bend enough to let him lurch up. "Gods damn me, I don't want to look any more pathetic than I already do," he thinks.

But it's useless. After a few struggling attempts, Stranger stamps a warning foot and huffs aggressively at him. "Guess I'm riding in the bloody cart," Sandor admits, "Might as well make a fool of myself."

It's organized chaos inside the walls. Food and extra beds have been prepared for the influx of refugees from the south and several maesters and assistants take the worst of the wounded into their care.

It's not hard to spot her auburn hair and mourning clothes; The Lady of Winterfell is all elegance and decorum as she hands out blankets and welcomes the people into her protection with grace and gentle words. His cart stops short of the mass of people and the men take the horses and goods into the stables and shelters.

Sandor grabs his crutch and does what little he can to be of use. Stranger disappears into a barn and the man who'd nursed him the whole way (a student at the citadel, he'd learned) hands him a heavy sack. "If you want to be useful, put this on your back and bring it to the infirmary." He starts to help Sandor tie the bag to his back when suddenly he feels her eyes on him, even from yards away.

He freezes, forgetting the bag and the man and the chaos around them. There is only her, tall and proud, moving toward him. At first, she steps delicately in and around the crowd, then less politely as she starts to run at him. Sansa flings herself at him, nearly knocking him back onto the cart, and he drops the bag and his crutch, just to close her up in his scarred arms.

Kissed by fire, that's what Tormund called her, and bloody hells is he going to prove him right.

[silversiren1101]

Hmmm okay Nero/Sanga prompt, where Nero unknowingly cuddles her in bed by wrapping his long limbs completely around her lol

‘Damn this cold. Damn it to Hells.’ Nero shivers fitfully. His tall, lanky frame does little to protect him from the bitter cold seeping in through… everywhere really. The cabin they’ve taken refuge in for the night is more of a suggestion of shelter than an actually viable one. A sudden snowstorm -though can it really be called sudden when they’re in bloody, thrice-cursed Coerthas? -had driven them to seek shelter sturdier than Sanga’s well-loved camp tent. Brought all the way from her homelands of the Azim Steppe, the canvas was made more to keep out the boiling heat of the desert sun than the cold of a frozen wasteland. The cool night air of the Nhaama desert may be enough to freeze, but not nearly so much as this hellscape.

Still, the stubborn little oxhead had refused his pleas to find shelter. The mere cold wasn’t going to kill her, she’d huffed. Him neither, being from the cold north of Ilsabard, himself. And so they’d trekked onward, snow piling up her knees and his calves as visibility dropped to near zero, stubbornly marching on. It wasn’t until a solid layer of ice had formed over her midnight-sky scales and horns that she regained some sense, turning to look at him with those crimson-ringed eyes almost apologetically. 

“There’s a mill somewhere to the east of here… I think. The tent won’t do much good in this weather.” 

He’d nearly erupted into that smug, boisterous laughter of his, had his teeth not been chattering so. “No shite, genius.” 

By the time they stumbled inside, more frozen than the ice golems they’d encountered earlier, he’d nearly kissed the floorboards in relief. Hells, he nearly sent up a prayer to whatever goddess was worshipped here. Hal-something?

The fire Sanga immediately worked to get started in the hearth couldn’t have come fast enough. Her fingers had trembled so severely as she did it by hand, not trusting her volatile black magic skills to not explode the already ramshackle building around them. Reserved only for emergencies, her tutors had told her… from sickbay beds. 

Even so, the crackling fire ended up being more useful for light than heat. The flicking flames barely put any dent in the cold air seeping through the walls. Nero doesn’t think he’s ever been this cold in his life. Ilsabard is cold but not Coerthan cold, especially not with how these hills have been corrupted in the wake of Dalamud’s fall.

The worst part, though, is that he really only has himself to blame for this predicament. For once, he decided to take his maybe-maybe-not girlfriend-or-fuckbuddy (it’s complicated) up on her offer to travel out on one of her quests. It wasn’t until they set out that she ‘remembered’ to tell him they’d be trekking into the Coerthan wastes with only her tent, two bedrolls, and two fur blankets.

Blankets valiantly doing their best to keep them warm as they lay on their rolls before the struggling hearth.

He never would’ve said yes if he had known, and a part of him wonders if she deliberately withheld the information or truly just forgot. Knowing Sanga, though, she most likely forgot, too excited to have company with her for once that she didn’t think he might not exactly be suited to traveling in such harsh conditions.

Still, he’s here now and there’s no changing that. Here with the Warrior of Light, the fierce little wyrmling, stripped out of her plate and fur cuirass, and somehow bloody snoring next to him. How she could stop shivering long enough to fall asleep so deeply as to snore he has no damn clue. 

He turns to look at her, observing the dopey look on her sleeping face, just like any other time he’s seen her asleep. The cold doesn’t seem to be bothering her in the slightest.

So wrapped up into his bitter thoughts that the appearance of Sanga’s arm flopping across his chest nearly startles him to death. He hisses, sucking in the gasp so as to not wake her, looking down that the bare, grey-blue skin tossed over his chest. Oh no, no no no. Nero is not a cuddler. Even after sex, he quickly gets her out of his bed or climbs from hers lest anything more than lust catch hold. Feelings were not something he was willing to risk.

He quickly goes to push the limb up and away, but the sensation of his ice-cold fingers touching her flesh gives him pause.

Sanga isn’t just warm, she’s hot.

He looks over, wondering if maybe she’d caught a fever from the ice that’d clung to her earlier, but the relaxed expression still there says otherwise. 

Sanga, apparently, is a little furnace.

And so, against his better judgment, he decides to leave the arm where it lay. He bites his tongue, looking away in that instinctive embarrassed reaction despite her being sound asleep. Leeching this small amount of warmth from her can’t possibly hurt. In fact, her figures she damn well owes it to him after dragging him out to this hellscape she called an ‘adventure’, anyway.

As the heat of her arm begins to permeate the shirt he has on, warmth seeping into his freezing chest, the more his choice begins to feel like the right one.

——————————————-

“You… are suffocating me.”

The warrior’s voice pierces through the fog of his slumber. He feels exhausted, and just opening his eyes is a battle and a half.

But as the scene fully registers in his mind, awakeness hits him as hard as a sack of bricks. 

His arms have completely wrapped about Sanga’s midsection, pulling her tightly to his chest as he curls around her. His legs too, twine with hers and have hooked them close to his body. 

Her face is pressed into his chest, between his lean pecs, and it’s only now he registers the pinpricks of pain from her horns stabbing at him. Those black and red-ringed eyes look up at him from his chest, a confused yet obviously amused look swimming in their depths.

Nero shoves her away in a heartbeat, horror descending on him just as quickly as the cold of the room does. It’s as though he’s been dipping into an ice bath as soon as she’s pulled away. Vestiges of her warmth cling to him desperately before falling off like molted scales, leaving him standing in the freezing air of the morning sun lit room.

“Awww. I was enjoying that.” She whines, but her tone indicates anything but mockery. Completely genuine, actually. “My people snuggle for warmth all the time. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, prudish Garlean.”

It tugs at his heart in a way he’s never felt, and a flash of red dusts his cheeks. Was it from him being embarassed at the situation? Or embarassed over this uncomfortable jealousy as he thinks of Sanga ‘snuggling’ with someone besides him?

No! Nero does NOT cuddle. Nero does NOT get attached. 

“Well. I wasn’t.” He snaps but quickly turns so she can’t get a look at his expression. 

It wasn’t the first lie he’s ever told her. It most certainly wasn’t the first he’s ever told himself.

And it definitely won’t be the last.

[ninaahelvar]

Chivalry Fell On Its Sword (2/?)

Summary: All Arya wanted so to feel normal and go outside of the damn castle. Now, through a series of unfortunate, she’s stuck with a bodyguard that she accidentally flirted with: Gendry Waters.

AO3

A/N: big shoutout to @doesitsaysassonmyuniform for being my beta even when she had no time. bless as always...micah, @wetbreadofficial....you're my main bitch who basically keeps the plot of this fic running. love ya boo

Arya jumped up onto the brick work, hands scraping at the edge and feet kicking until her sneakers caught on the right part, gripping and giving her leverage. One hard push, and she was able to sit up on the top, sighing as she caught her breath. Peering over the side, she saw that annoying sack of shit waiting there, smiling up at her as he waited. Gendry moved, taking off from the wall to give her a smug grin.

“Fuck you,” Arya sighed, slipping down from the top of the wall, Gendry catching her by the waist so she didn’t have to struggle - just dangling from the edge, like a massive twat. She suspected that he was fully capable of doing that to her. He may have wanted to after the stunt she pulled by running off for the thirtieth time that month.

Once a day, he said one time, like clockwork.

She didn’t know how, but he seemed to have mapped out all her possible exits, even the ones that Brienne knew nothing about, because at the end of each escape route, he stood there waiting.

He seemed to have learnt everything within his first month.

Six months in, he was being too diligent.

“Your highness, you should at least say where you’re going,” he said as she fought against his hands the second she hit the ground. Gendry looked different than normal - she hadn’t seen him that morning, as when he knocked on her bedroom door, she was already climbing out her window. He was wearing casual clothes, a dark flannel over his crisp white t-shirt, and dark jeans to match. He looked like he had when they first met - but she had become accustomed to seeing him in the suit and tie.

“What’s the point in running away when you leave a note?” she pouted. Arya knew she may have sounded like a child, but more than anything, she wanted to get away from him and the castle. What was the point of her twenties if she was stuck at home with no fucking independence.

“You know I could get fired for losing track of you.” They walked along the wall, but their pace was set by Gendry - a slow walk with little destination in mind. He held off on taking them anywhere.

Arya shrugged. “You’ll get moved to another job in the palace, don’t get so worked up.”

“I like my job, m’lady, I’d like to keep it,” Gendry said, slowly putting his hands behind his back, letting them meet as they kept walking.

“Don’t call me that.” Arya wanted to snap, but all she could do was let a sigh fall from her mouth. The same conversation, over and over, but he knew how it got her going.

“Alright, private,” he smirked and Arya rolled her eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Gendry laughed. “If you want to sneak out, you know you can take me with you,” he suggested and Arya scoffed, shaking her head.

“Sorry, but I don’t think you’d like where I’m going,” she squared her shoulders, another thing she had become accustomed to - Gendry’s bold way of handling her. He didn’t treat her like a princess, just a girl with a sour attitude. He caught hold of her wrist and snatch her into his personal space.

“And you think that means I’m allowed to let you go alone?” he said, trying his hardest to stare her down. It didn’t work. But the way his mouth curved....he knew he was going to get his way. She was going to give in...for the freedom. “So, where are we going?” he said letting her wrist go.

“Seven fucking hells,” Arya swore, striding ahead and making her way to the nearest fence. At least the climb over that wouldn’t be so hard - she had an accomplice this time.

They had managed to make it to town before Arya and Gendry had said another word to each other. It wasn’t as though she was annoyed with him, but being the rebellious one, she was guarded more than she wished to be. Freedom always seemed somewhat out of reach, and that could have been her own fault, but she felt sheltered, kept from living a simpler life.

Being held accountable for every action wasn’t her style.

Being watched was also incredibly uncomfortable.

But at least it was Gendry?

“Where’s the bloody clown suit?” Arya said, nudging Gendry with her hip. He remained silent before his shoulder slumped.

“You always say I stick out like a fucking sore thumb when you end up in town, so I asked around, and got permission to wear my own clothes,”

“You’re my secret body man?” she gasped and Gendry, for the first time since being on this job, rolled his eyes.

“Be happy I’m letting you out of the goddamn grounds now,” he grumbled and Arya furrowed her brow, watching Gendry carefully.

“Isn’t Brienne gonna be mad at you for this?” she asked. Gendry’s jaw set tight before he replied.

“Nope.”

“No?”

“She’s allowed this to happen.”

Arya stopped and Gendry halted, looking back at her as she thought on what he said. “As long as you don’t lose me…” she said slowly, and Gendry took an uneasy step towards her, “this is your trial run.” Arya beamed as Gendry’s face dropped. She’d caught on quickly, and that wasn’t what he was expecting. Arya stepped back from him and he swiftly chased her step.

“Your highness,” he warned, “don’t...you...dare…”

Arya stood up straight, letting the mischievous grin fall, and a genuine smile take its place. “Why would I? I mean, hell it would be fun to see you searching the whole town, but this benefits me, remember? I’ll gladly suffer with your sorry arse today if I get to leave through the front door now and again,” she shrugged, taking them ahead, soon walking side by side, and the entire time. Arya felt determined for this day to go better than any other venture.

Towards the centre of the town she was used to roaming, they made their way into the park. On a bench, Arya sat patiently, watching the world go by as Gendry moved around her. He didn’t sit right away, and when he did, he placed himself on the grass. Before she’d even realised it, they had been there for over an hour, just taking in the day. No wonder Gendry was pacing for so long. Now laid back, arm over his eyes, Gendry relaxed there for a while before he gave a deep sigh. There was a thought that he shouldn’t really keep his eyes from her, but at a second glance, she saw him looking directly at her.

“Why didn’t we go anywhere?” Gendry asked, stretching out onto the grass. There were lies she was used to telling, explaining away her behaviour. It felt wrong to lie to him - he’d catch on and tell her to stop. Her family knew how to read her like he did, and she was scared she’d be called out like a fool.

“I don’t like the castle,” she swallowed, watching as Gendry perked up from the ground and looked at her, “it’s so hollow. And quiet,” she said, jaw going tight. She felt an odd chill race over her chest, as though admitting the truth was far scarier than she anticipated. Gendry stared for a moment before he shot up from the ground and sat down next to her.

Arya watched and waited for him to say something. “What’s the most random thing you’ve ever wanted to do?”

Arya’s brow knit tight as she looked at him, the smile on his face spreading and she could tell he was serious. “What?” she laughed.

“What’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to do? Whatever it is, we’ll do it,” he asked, giving a vague gesture to the world. Arya bit her lip, trying to contain the growing smile, but it wouldn’t let up, and she didn’t care.

“Come on,” she said, snatching his wrist and guiding him where she wanted to go.

~*~*~

Of all things, Gendry wasn’t quite expecting this. He stood, staring at the building with the budding suspicion that she was playing a trick on him. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d done it. He looked down to the excited princess, her little bounces of joy were something new, but Gendry still had no idea what the fuck was going on.

“Seriously?” he asked cautiously.

“You said anything,” Arya said, bounding in front of him to pose, hands on hips and beaming smile.

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes as Arya raced to a trolley, and they wound their way into Tesco. When he asked, he kind of imagined Arya picking bungee jumping, or driving a motorbike. This was...weirdly ordinary. If he thought about it, he should have considered it - all Arya ever did was totally ordinary - she never tried to be overtly rebellious

She was sheltered, and she just wanted to do things like everyone else.

It made sense why their first night together was as flirtatious as it was - she was trying to experience something she may not have before.

He wondered if she indulged in dwelling on that night like he did. He was hopelessly following her, but there was something deep within him that couldn’t care.

Arya, originally, was walking beside him as they started in the bread aisle. But soon, her fascination with everything became too overwhelming, and she raced off, grabbing everything on the shelves she thought she’d like. Gendry felt like a weird parent, but was unable to stop their rowdy kid.

“What’s this?” she asked, grabbing hold of something covered in chocolate. As far as he knew, she had no allergies - so, he shrugged.

“Chocolate stuff.”

“Let’s get it,” she said, tossing three in the trolley.

“Ok.”

“And this?” she asked again, shoving something in his hands. He read over the cover, inspecting the back and tossing it back to her.

“It’s kinda fruity?”

“Cool!” Arya threw it down into the cart, continuing down the aisle and into the next, finding the next thing that caught her fancy.

“An-”

“It’s a Japanese soda thing, I’ve never tried it,” he answered before she could ask. Going to the shelf, she stuffed more into the cart, making sure to get everything she wanted.

“We’re getting two!”

“Your dad needs to pay me more,” Gendry murmured to himself, leaning down on the handles, chin bouncing as the wheels jiggled against the ground. Even when the total for the entire trip was something absolutely ridiculous, Gendry forgot to care about how much money he was spending - Arya was so fucking happy, it made him want to buy her the entire store so she’d never have to leave.

He knew Arya would give him the money back - they had been on a few outings where he’d paid out of pocket, only for the money to come in on his next paycheck. It was usually marked under ‘Arya expenses’, and it always made him laugh. Either way, if he was helping her fulfill her most odd request, then he didn’t care.

They returned to the park, setting up on the grass once more and their haul spread out in front of them. Arya picked out a few sweets, taste testing and having a save and bin pile. She was getting through a majority of it as Gendry watched. Midway through her cull of the food, she picked up a drink and gave it to him. Mr Brown Iced Coffee. Arya shoved it towards him, and he rolled his eyes, taking it from her and cracking it open.

If asked what was the worst experience of Gendry’s life, he would have said when he was eighteen and went to a party where he drank too much, fell off a roof naked and managed to break his leg in front of the girl he liked.

But that was until he drank the horseshit he just had. He spat is across the grass, choking and spitting every chance he could.

“What the fuck did you make me drink!” he snapped, shoving it back to Arya who cackled like a maniac. Arya was slapping at his thigh, choking on her food as she lost her breath and laughed harder than he had ever heard her before. “This actually tastes like cigarettes,” he exclaimed, the saturating aftertaste tainted on his tongue.

“Have this,” Arya said between breaths, handing him something he knew and he immediately devoured it. For a moment, he tasted freedom, only for it to be swept away and replaced with the reteched taste of cigarettes once more.

“Everything is tainted now. I will never be the same,” he said, coughing and teeth scraping against his tongue to see if it helped.

“I’m sorry,” she tried not to smile, but the snicker she had proved she couldn’t handle herself.

“Fuck. Never get that. Ban that immediately,” he cursed, kicking the can away from them.

“I’m bring it up with Government right away,” Arya laughed.

Gendry liked hearing her laugh.

~*~*~

Arya had dragged Gendry through the Tesco, and even made him drink the iced coffee that apparently ruined a person’s life, but she felt content with her day. It felt ordinary - simply a wonderful day out without having to be told to smile every two seconds. She did it all on her own. Or maybe Gendry helped.

She wondered if he ever thought back to the night they met, the bar and alcohol getting to them. Wondered if he thought about whether or not they were actually going to kiss, and if Gendry thought about her lips like she sometimes caught herself doing about his. With him sprawled out across the grass, his shirt pulling up from his waist to show off the slow trail of hair leading down underneath his belt - she would have experienced him fully if it hadn’t been for her mother.

But that was long since gone.

He was a temptation for sure, but she wasn’t allowed to indulge no matter how much she wanted to. Instead, she kept those thoughts to herself, letting herself dream - to wonder how far up his chest the hair scattered or was he completely bare?

Before her thoughts could take shape and mould to every corner of her mind, Gendry sat up, sitting cross legged and got into Arya’s space.

“What else did you wanna do?”

“Can I see your apartment?” she asked, the moment the words left her mouth, she cursed the unbelievable reaction her horny mind took hold of. She knew she could play it off, but she also knew where the question originated from.

“My apartment?” he asked, a crinkle in the bridge of his nose. Clearing her throat, she reclined back, extending her arms behind her.

“Yeah! I wanna see where you live. Gotta be nicer than mine,” she said, regretting the phrase.

“You’re kidding right?” he scoffed.

“I mean, it’d feel like a home more than my house does,” Arya played off. Gendry seemed to wait a moment, looking up to the sky, the clouds darkening and rumbling with an on coming downpour.

“Fine, but only for a few minutes,” he said, gathering up all their things, piling them into their bags and Arya jumped up.

“Yes!”

Arya helped Gendry throw out their rubbish, walking just a step behind him as he guided them through the town. It was strange to be the one behind - Arya always led the way, Gendry always happy to follow just one step behind.

Then, as quickly as they had started walking, the sky ripped open, pouring out all the water that it had gathered and saturated everyone within moments of it’s first rumble. Arya sputtered water out of her face, trying to keep up with Gendry as his shoulder scrunched up towards his ears.

“Why are we walking in the rain?” Arya complained.

“Cause you decided you wanted to walk to the town, when my car is at the palace,” he snapped back to her.

“You’re giving me clothes when we get to yours,” she yelled over the beating rain and Gendry stopped mid step to look at her. They both seemed irritated at by the situation, but as they faced each other...something softened within them both. Anger dissipated, and warmth was all they wanted.

“Whatever, just hurry up,” he said, catching her wrist and dragging her down another street. He started to dash with her in toe, and there was something...fun about it all. He made her feel like she was on a true adventure that she’d never experienced - the simplicity of young romance, caught in the rain, only to wrap up in each other when the rain poured on outside. Arya knew she wouldn’t get that, but the lead up was one hell of an exploit and she loved it whilst it lasted.

They made it to a block of apartments, Gendry buzzing them in and shaking himself off once inside the lobby. He was almost like a dog, shedding the water from its coat, but she’d never voice that to him. Arya thought he might take offense to that. Making their way up a few floors, Gendry rustled around his jeans for his keys and opened the door.

With the lights turned on, Gendry shut the door behind them, both shivering as the downpour finally started to freeze them both.

“Wait here, I’ll get you a towel and some dry clothes,” he cleared his throat, walking down the hall, turning on more lights as he walked off.

“Thanks,” Arya called, not even listening to his request and wandering further into his apartment. It was a lot nicer than she expected. It was pristine white, furniture neatly placed around the TV, his kitchen was even big. In all - his apartment seemed huge, winding in different areas. But she suspected that he wasn’t living alone, his rent must have been high with how new and fancy it all seemed.

Arya was used to old and fancy shit. New and fancy was good.

She was excited when she saw his TV, not terribly big, but Arya didn’t mind. She jumped over the couch and sat on one of the throw blankets. She switched on the TV, letting herself relax and wait for Gendry. She flipped through channels, some shows about baking, others with political dramas or crime TV, others reality shows. She watched one of the crime shows, noticing that it took awhile for Gendry to come back out.

“What are you doing?” he asked, finally coming back in with a pile of things in his arms.

“I’ve never got to have one of these days. Just coming home, all bundled up in blankets and watching TV,” she said, pulling her legs up onto the couch for Gendry to sneak by and take a seat at the other end of the chair. It wasn’t like she didn’t have a TV in her own home, but there was something about how small the space was - not everything had to be a movie theatre. Even the TV in her own room made her feel like she couldn’t engage. This home felt warm and comforting.

“How mundane do you want your life to be?” he laughed, settling into the cushions of the couch. Gendry was now dressed in tracksuit pants and a tank top and soft varsity jacket. He looked good.

“Look, a castle isn’t a home. This is a home. It’s comfortable,” she said, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder. Some of the remaining water splashed against Gendry’s face and he scoffed, wiping it away and tossing her the things in his hands.

“Here, you can have these,” he groaned, folding his arms over his chest.

“Are you dressing me in some clothes from a one night stand?”

“They’re mine, princess, I just don’t fit in ‘em anymore,” he replied, a quirk in his brow as he held back on the question. Why should it matter?

Swallowing it away, Arya stood and went off to the hall, trying to navigate her way through his apartment without snooping through his shit. Instead, she found his bedroom - or the room she thought was his - and locked the door behind her. Running the towel over her hair, she wrapped it up as she stripped free of her watery clothes. Putting on Gendry’s old clothes was a little more difficult than she thought - his shirt hung over her like a dress, and the tracksuit pants didn’t stay up on their own. In the end, she rolled up the waistband as thick as she could, which helped with the dragging problem. The shirt, on the other hand, was something she couldn’t do much about other than tuck it into her new waistband. In the corner of the room, she saw Gendry’s clothes drying by a heater, and decided to leave her wet things with his.

Walking out into the living room again, trying to dry her hair again. Gendry looked over the back of the couch and scoffed. “Great look, princess.”

“Shut up,” she whipped her towel at him as she climbed over the back of the couch again. Gendry laughed as he caught the towel and the two of them relaxed, watching whatever shows came on that they both seemed to enjoy.

Through their casual conversation, ordering in dinner and lounging in his living room, she learnt that he lived alone. He had a roommate over a year back, but they left for a job out of the country. He said the rent was high, as she suspected, but the job with the palace kept him with enough money to get by easily. His mum would come and visit occasionally, but it was a rare occurrence now that he worked for the palace.

Eventually, they landed on the topic of the royals and how he got involved with being a security guy when he didn’t seem all that interested in it to begin with. Turns out, Jon offered it to him, but Gendry had no idea who any of the royals were.

“So what? You didn’t know I was a princess because you didn’t read the news?” Arya said, trying not to do another spit take when Gendry nodded, “and your best friend from university was who again?” Gendry laughed as he set his beer onto the coffee table.

“Jon is a private guy! I knew he was royal and shit, but I didn’t think it was my place to ask ‘hey why the fuck you living with your cousins’, so I never did,” Gendry shrugged as he started to go at his pizza again.

Arya shook her head. “You are a strange guy.”

“You’re one to talk,” Gendry mumbled with a mouthful of food. Arya laughed and he did too, the TV the only other sound whilst they ate. It occurred to her later in the night that she was waiting for the rain to let up to finally head home, but the comfort of his home was lovely...and the rain hadn’t stopped. So, she stayed.

“We should head back soon,” Gendry said as an episode of Star Trek finished. Arya had been invested in the campiness of it, thrilled with how weird and bizarre it all was. Reaching over Gendry, she snatched the remote and kept the channel running.

“Oh no, would you look at that,” she exaggerated, smacking a pillow against Gendry to keep him at bay. He huffed, settling back into his spot.

“You know we’re going to get in trouble and you’re never going to be allowed out again.”

“Yeah yeah, like that’s stopped me before,” Arya said, pulling her knees up onto the couch and sitting back on her heels.

“One more episode, princess, that’s it,” he sighed.

Midway through the episode, Arya’s phone buzzed. Taking it from her pocket, she noticed that Sansa had sent her a snapchat, as well as the fact that her phone was dying soon. She looked around to find Gendry’s charger, noticing it next to the TV set. She’d charge it after she saw what Sansa was sending her.

A video was sent and Arya could feel Gendry looking over her shoulder as she pressed the screen. Sansa was in the middle of Arya’s room, running around. ‘Bitch where are you? I came to annoy you, but you aren’t hereeeeee! Why don’t you clean your fucking room?’ She complained and laughed as she collapsed down onto Arya’s bed.

Immediately, Arya sent back a quick video. ‘Get out of my room, fuckface!’

Sending it through, she could still feel Gendry looking at her. Glancing his way, his grin widened. “Wow, sisterly love.”

“It’s love, bitch,” she said, giving an obnoxious pout before she giggled - her cheeks were red hot and she felt slightly embarrassed, “sorry, Sansa brings this out in me,” she explained.

“It’s fun,” Gendry shrugged.

“Wait, do you follow this twitter account?” she asked, shifting closer to Gendry and showing off a royal family meme account and some of their tweets. Gendry gave a slow nod.

“Yeah, they post some pretty funny things about you guys,” he said, as Arya beamed back at him. His jaw went slack as she showed him the profile more clearly, “no way! It’s you!” he asked. Arya nodded back excitedly.

“Oh hell yeah, the entire family knows about it and we send around a group chat for new shit to post,” she explained. Gendry sat in bewilderment for a moment before he sighed.

“The royal family, the original shitposters,” Gendry proclaimed and Arya laughed, sending the phrase out to the family group chat.

Somewhere during the night, she had drifted to sleep, clinging onto something for comfort. It wasn’t until it moved that Arya realised it was Gendry, and he had let her practically fall asleep against him. Still, she didn’t want to move.

“Hey, princess, let’s get back,” he whispered.

“Comfy,” she complained, snuggling up against him again. Gendry laughed.

“Thanks, but you falling asleep on me isn’t ideal.”

“I think it’s ideal.”

“Yeah, only ‘cause you’re getting to go to sleep,” he scoffed.

“I’d love to sleep with you.” The words slipped out, no filter to keep them contained, and she looked up at the man, shock and confusion written into his features, but she waited. To see if he would do something.

“Princess,” he whispered, his hand running up her cheek. It was bigger than she thought his hand would be, rough and calloused in different parts of his palm. Arya could barely keep her eyes open, but what she could see was Gendry moving towards her, breath heavy against her.

Her heart was pounding, wondering if his lips would dare to touch hers. He was inches from her lips, and her her felt up his chest, pulling lightly on his shirt. Have at it, she thought, dare to kiss me. She’d happily wake up for him to kiss her, to tempt her back to the land of the living. But soon, his breath stilled, and his hand slipped from her face, the space between them filled once more with cold air. “Come here,” he murmured, pulling her legs into his lap.

“Hmm,” she huffed as he stood, her arms instinctively going around his neck and head falling to his shoulder.

Arya was so tired, she barely registered what was going on, but she felt the comfort of a bed embrace her, tucked into blankets to wrapped her in warmth and the pitter-patter of rain against a window.

Sleep came so easily, she hardly registered that it had come at all until morning peered through the window and she felt more well rested than any day in the palace. Crawling out of bed, Arya shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and scratching at her hair. To her surprise, she found Gendry in the kitchen, wearing his tank top...and only his boxers.

“So, is this normal Gendry Waters attire?” she asked, and Gendry nearly collapsed to the floor, looked back at her with wild eyes.

“Why the fuck are you so silent?” he asked with a strangled breath.

“Small, I guess,” she shrugged, sitting at the breakfast table.

“French toast?” he offered, extending a plate to her.

“Wow, really?”

“I’ve had to learn,” he replied, “Want some or not?”

“Yes please,” she beamed, and Gendry handed her the ready plate.

After Gendry was finished making his own, they sat down across from each other and ate their breakfast. Arya remembered how the night ended, the missed opportunity, the silent way they both leaned in and waited for the other to break. She took tentative bites, waiting for him to say something, to make sure they were on the same page - but there was something between them that prevented the next step, more than the first night they met.

Arya was hot blooded, she wanted him, and she knew more than anything that she’d want him. But the tension that she was feeling had to be ignored, she couldn’t risk….

Risk? She thought. Risk was something she never truly thought of. Then, he walked in, making things hard. Making her attraction to him the hardest damn thing to understand and deal with. All because she couldn’t act on it - she couldn’t reach over the table and sit in his lap, take him exactly like she wanted.

She was stuck with the feeling of ready to pounce, her prey right in front of her, but there was a tether keeping her from jumping.

And Arya hated it.

“Did you leave your phone out here all night?” Gendry asked, pointing over her shoulder. She noticed her phone lit up, only for it to fade to black again.

“I think so? I left it to charge,” she said, letting her knife and fork clatter to the plate and go to her phone. Unplugging it, she went through all the notifications, only to feel her blood run cold. “Oh shit,” she swore. “Oh, holy fuck.”

Gendry stood quickly, almost making it to Arya’s side. “The last time you said that -”

“My mother called. She’s been worried where I am. And why I’m not back,” she sighed before looking up at Gendry, his hand running over his face.

“Fuck,” he swore back at her.

“Ok, we’re running back to the palace right?” she asked. Gendry went tight lipped, nodding with a grimace on his face.

“I don’t have my fucking car, so yeah,” he nodded.

“Get dressed,” she snapped, both of them racing off to his room and tossing each other clothes.

Grabbing everything they knew they needed, they raced to the palace. At one stage, they completely lost sight of each other, the race there more important than keeping track. Well, for Arya anyway. She didn’t see him for a while, but she thought he may have kept track of her.

They made it back to the palace by 8am, no one seemingly moving inside. Both of them were out of breath, their clothes a mess, and they didn’t smell too fresh either. They stood in the foyer, catching much needed breaths and dusting themselves off.

“Arya!” A deep voice called out. Arya spun to it, and smiled wide.

“Dad! Hey,” she exclaimed as he raced down the stairs to greet her. In a moment, he had picked her up from the ground, cuddled close in a bear hug as Arya tried to reciprocate the same tough arms, to no avail.

Setting her back on the ground, he let his hand rest on her cheek before sliding to her shoulder. “Your mother has been worried,” he warned her, before glancing to Arya’s side, noticing Gendry. “I’ll let her know you were sleeping in that spot again,”

“Thank you,”

“So, is this your new boyfriend?” he asked, extending his hand to Gendry, “Nice to meet you.”

Gendry stepped forward, tentatively taking Ned’s hand. “No, sir, no I’m...no, n-no,” he stuttered for the first time since Arya met him, and she couldn’t help it - she burst into laughter, “please stop laughing,” Gendry whispered through gritted teeth.

“Arya?” Ned asked, but she could barely stop to breath, let alone answer what was happening. She looked to Gendry, who was now growing a deep shade of red, and her laughter became uncontrollable.

“Sir, it’s not - I’m not!” Gendry tried, but the words were failing him as much as they were for her.

“He’s -” she couldn’t stop, she was on her knees, hand covering her face as the roaring laughter left her body.

“Really? This is funny to you?” Gendry asked, and Arya held up a finger, trying her hardest to regain some resemblance of composure, but his face was still so fucking red, she couldn’t help it.

“Gendry!” Another voice called, and Arya, from her position on the floor, saw Brienne racing over, meeting at the King’s side. “Sir, this is the new security guard for Arya,” she introduced, Arya completely on the ground, looking up as her laughter took over her.

“Oh, excuse me. A pleasure to meet you,” Ned apologised, shaking Gendry’s hand a little harder than before, clapping his shoulder in the process.

“You too, your majesty,” Gendry cleared his throat.

Brienne cleared her throat beside the King, showing him her watch and he sighed. “I have to go,” he shrugged, looking down at Arya, who had finally stopped laughed, still holding her stomach, “you should probably get her off the floor before she causes a scene,” he said. As he walked off, Gendry bent to Arya, picking her up and getting her back to her feet.

“This is the worst day of my life,” he whispered to himself.

“You froze up like a goddamn icicle,” Arya cackled, watching Gendry walk up the mountain of stairs in front of them.

“Fuck off.”

Arya gasped, catching up and poking Gendry in the side. “You can’t talk to me like that.”

“Watch me.”

“Icicle.” They looked at each other for a moment as they walked before Arya started to roar with laughter again. “You whole face is red! I can’t breathe!” She called out, holding onto the railing as Gendry huffed and continued on his way.

~*~*~

Ned walked in step with Brienne, heading to his office for a conference call with Robert Baratheon. The silence between them was irritating him, so he gestured for her to spit it out. “Your Majesty, why did you do that? You hand picked him for this new security job,” she asked, and Ned smiled to himself.

“I like hearing her laugh,” he chuckled softly. “Plus, his face was funny. Did you see how red he got? Like a bloody strawberry,” he exclaimed, clapping to himself as he gave another hearty laugh.

“But Your Majesty, you must know that they only just returned, they left yesterday morning. Should he be punished?” she said, and Ned paused, turning to the head of security. He furrowed his brow as he thought about it, and smiled softly.

“He brought her back in one piece. No injury, no harm. If he tried anything, I suspect Arya would have broken his nose, and he’s far too nervous to even successfully get himself into trouble. Leave them be,” he said, and Brienne nodded, smiling at the request. They continued to his office and at the door, he stopped himself, checking back with the security officer. “And let Arya leave the grounds. I’m sick of her trying to rebel. Maybe this way, she’ll feel freedom and use her title to put some good into the world. I know she can,” he shrugged, and Brienne smiled again.

“Yes, sir.”

~*~*~

Two days had passed since the run in with Arya’s father. They got word later that day that Arya was allowed out of the castle, to go around the local village however she liked, as long as Gendry was by her side. She didn’t mind that. The village already knew who she was, and they mostly kept things low key about her - never allowing paparazzi and things around when she was visiting, and making sure she had her privacy. It was one of the reasons Arya liked going to it - no one wanted to pry in her business.

Yet, on this day, she was stuck in her room, staring at a dress that she didn’t want to wear. There was a gala coming up, many lords and ladies were coming, to raise money for charities, but mostly to dress up. Arya chewed on her thumbnail, knowing she couldn’t get out of this, and she had to wear the fucking mess of a dress. It was her own secret punishment for spending the entire day out of the castle. Go to the gala...or never be allowed out again. She chose the former, for her mother.

The dress her mother picked out hung on display in Arya’s walk in wardrobe, pressed up against the mirror. It was a bundle of tulle, layer upon layer with the bodice lined with a tree branch design and beading. It was a mix of blue, lavender, black and champagne coloured tulle, wrapping around to make the bodice and straps until it reached the waist and became an overflowing creation.

It would have looked beautiful on anyone.

Except Arya.

She suspected her mother chose it because black was always a safe colour to put Arya in. But, with how heavy it all looked, Arya had a suspicion that she’d look like a doll that didn’t quite fit into the clothes.

The dress mocked her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. If she weren’t afraid to look like an idiot, she’d fight the damn thing. In the end, she’d lose and look like an moron wearing the thing anyway.

So, instead, she stared, wondering if her gaze would burn holes in the fabric and it’d mean she didn’t have to attend the stupid gala.

A knock came to the door of her wardrobe, and she turned to see Gendry. He was dressed in a suit like he had been for the last several months. And to think, she was getting used to seeing him in his normal clothes, and it had only been a few days.

“Penguin suit again, I see,” she said, turning back to the dress.

“I’m off your assignment for the day. Going on Jon’s detail,” he explained, standing beside her, looking at the dress.

“He’s not as fun as me, though,” she bat her eyelashes at him, and he turned to her, barely giving her any emotion.

Gendry shrugged. “I’ll tell you after.”

“Rude,” she sneered, “what am I meant to be doing today?” she asked.

“Try not to freak out Podrick? I don’t know, go see your mum or something,” he replied.

“I’ll give the guy a break, I promise.”

“What’s with the dress, your highness,” he asked, and something brewed in her chest, and she couldn’t stop the frustration billowing out as it did.

“God, I hate you calling me that.”

“I have to address you like that,” Gendry scoffed.

“Can you just call me Arya! It isn’t that hard,” she huffed, leaning against of the closet doors. Gendry suddenly turned to her, stepping in towards her abruptly, catching her off guard.

“Every other security person calls you ‘your highness’, why am I different?” he asked, and Arya swallowed hard.

“It’s for a gala. My whole family is going. I have to look...pretty,” she pointed to the dress, turning back to it as to not face him. She was glad her hair was covering her face, because she knew her face was going pink.

“Not like it’d be very hard,” he replied, and Arya’s jaw went tight, biting at the inside of her lip. “I’m off, just came by to tell you I’m with Jon today,” he explained, turning and heading out of her wardrobe.

“See you around, major cunt,” she called over her shoulder.

“And they call you a princess,” he laughed towards the door of her room. Arya turned back to the door, wondering if he had truly left, or if she could see him one last time that day. Instead, she turned back to the dress.

~*~*~

Gendry knocked at Robb’s bedroom door, opening it when he heard the faint ‘come in’ voice from the other side. Jon and Robb sat on a pair of chairs, watching something on a TV set. Gendry walked in, giving a soft bow to Robb. “Your Highness,” he greeted, then looked towards his university friend, and gave a smug smile. “Jon.”

“Fuck you,” Jon spat, standing and embracing Gendry tightly.

“Just having a little fun,” he said, standing at arm's length and noticing that the two men didn’t look like they were going anywhere important, “can I ask why I was requested today?”

“We wanted to give you a break,” Robb said, Jon moved around and gestured for Gendry to take his seat.

“From what?” Gendry laughed, moving slowly towards Jon.

“We’re sorry you’re stuck with this duty, Gendry,” Jon said, clapping his shoulder, knocking Gendry slightly off balance. Gendry took the chair and sat down across from the next in line.

“We know Arya can be a handful,” Robb said, as though he were apologising.

“She’s easy to manage,” Gendry played off.

“Are you serious? Our sister is the most wild person on the planet. Reining her in is impossible,” Jon recounted.

“I think you just have to find the right way to handle her,” Gendry gave a vague hand gesture. He felt cornered by the two men, both looking towards each other with a grimace on their faces.

“The way you’re talking sounds so wrong, Waters,” Robb groaned. Jon smacked his shoulder.

“Like he wants to handle her, right?” Jon said, raising his brow.

“Dude...that’s your sister,” Gendry scoffed, “how are you guys royalty? Fucking disgusting, the both of you.” And as the two laughed, Gendry did too. He definitely thought they had seen how he felt for their sister.

“Come on, it’s a day off. We’re not going anywhere, we’ve got suit fittings and shit, and we need an extra for footy later. You in?” Robb explained, waiting for Gendry to say anything.

“Sure,” he smiled, unbuttoning his suit jacket, “but I’ll kick your ass, I don’t give a shit if you’re next in line for the throne,” he joked, standing up next to Jon.

“Nice try, Robb will knock your ass to the ground before you get a shot at him,” Jon said, clapping Gendry’s shoulder again.

“Wish you lot had told me I wasn’t going to be on a real security detail, I wouldn’t have worn my suit,” Gendry complained and Robb shook his head.

“We’ll give you something, don’t worry.”

~*~*~

Catelyn Stark was a hard woman to negotiate with. Arya knew she got her stubbornness from her mother, but arguing with her was like facing a wall that would collapse on you at any moment. Arya stood no chance when she was shoved into the bathroom and told to strip down and put on the dress. The unfortunate thing about the dress was that where the straps went down, it left her backless, reaching her waist where the tulle skirt started. Which also meant, in her mother’s eyes - she had to be proper. No bra, but she had to wear one. So she wore one of those stick on bras.

It wasn’t like Arya needed it, she wasn’t exactly voluptuous by any means, but for propriety's sake, it kept Arya decent. Walking back out with the mountain of tulle in hand, to stop herself from tripping, she stepped up on a box for the seamstress to analyse Arya in front of three mirrors. Arya’s room became a fashion show, and she detested it.

“You can leave for this, Podrick,” Catelyn said, gesturing for Podrick to leave. He smiled to Arya, giving her a thumbs up and she giggled. As much as she loved running away from the guy, Pod was nice, and he cared about her family.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, bowing and leaving the room once more. The seamstress started to take notes on length, mentioning that she was leaving the back with length to give Arya a train, and the idea of it made Arya roll her eyes. She also notes that the waist would need to be taken in.

“You didn’t have to be here for this, mum,” Arya complained, hearing the undeniable sound of a snapshot, and darting her gaze to her bed, “and neither do you, your highness.” Arya poked her tongue out at her sister.

“But you look so pretty,” she beamed, taking another photo.  

“If I find that on the internet, I’m killing you,” Arya warned and Sansa raised her hands, reclining back into the bed, lounging across and making faces towards Arya. When Arya was young, she and Sansa never got on. But when the teenage years had faded, the two sisters became playful and Arya was able to joke around with her sister as much as had her brothers. Sansa, to the general public, was the sweetest and most innocent woman. But Arya knew her sister, the weirdo that found memes almost as well as Arya.

“Arya, watch your tongue,” Catelyn warned.

“Sorry.”

“I think if we adjust the straps here -” Catelyn started to instruct the seamstress, pulling the straps down at the back, and fitting it closer to Arya’s chest, “perfect,” she exclaimed.

“I’ll make note of the measurements, your majesty,” the seamstress replied.

“Sansa, we need to make sure the length on yours is correct, come along,” Catelyn said, talking to the seamstress about Sansa’s gown and the alterations they were considering making. Sansa stood up from the bed, dusting herself off and dancing her way over to Arya. She giggled as she watched her sister shimmy her way towards her. Sansa caught Arya at the waist and smiled up to her.

“You do look nice. It definitely suits you,” Sansa whispered, kissing Arya’s cheek.

“Thanks,” Arya whispered back to her sister.

“Be careful with the zipper, Arya, it sticks,” Catelyn warned and Arya huffed, trying to reach around the bundles of tulle to get to the zipper. But she failed, and was stuck staring at her reflection.

Arya kept fiddling at her waist, the band sitting in a position she wasn’t used to. She felt like she needed to move it down towards her hips, stop having it be up so high, but that wasn’t how dresses worked, she reminded herself. Letting out a long huff, she stared in the mirror, looking at the way the dress fell and knowing for certain, the girl staring back wasn’t her.

It may have looked like her, but she wasn’t comfortable like Arya was, nor dressed like Arya did. A dress wearing Arya, wasn’t Arya.

Yet, for a split second, when she pushed hair behind her ear, looking at her reflection, she wondered - would someone think she was beautiful? Would he spot her and smile, think she would make the room glow.

Would Gendry tell her that?

Would she finally feel…

No. That was a ridiculous thought. Dresses weren’t her. She hated them, and she hated having to dress like a lady when that wasn’t what she felt like. She was a woman, but she wasn’t built for the finer things - she liked mud, and blood, and getting her hands dirty.

She wasn’t beautiful.

Even if for a split second, she thought she was.

[dragonslaircrafting]

The big bad wolf chapter 1

                                          The lady in the green dress

Alex stood in the bathroom getting ready for class. She wore basic jeans and a tee shirt that said something about bats on it. She was almost ready for her first day of collage, well as ready as one could be anyway. When most people see Alex, they see an average built lady with short brown hair and a permit scourer. Most would describer her style as biker chick meets goth and she owned more black then any one person should have any right to. But what most people failed to see where the scars, the scratches, the bite mark so well hidden under her leather jacket on her left shoulder. All were memories. Things she had since she was young, this were marks that would never heal. Alex had been out walking in the woods by her house when she was twelve. She was out past dark, as kids do when they have no idea of the dangers of the world, when something attacked her. She didn't remember much, screaming, blood, and a hell of a lot of pain. The official report was a bear had attacked her. A bear, the mere idea of a bear being able to do this kind of damage was laughable to Alex now. if only the police had any idea what was really in the woods. She had thought the attack was painful. No, that wasn't anything compared to the change. The first was the worst of course. Every bone in her body breaking. Pulling apart to stretched and grow. Flesh ripping, tearing itself open to make room for the new structure. Blood pour down from each new cut and hole that her body was making in itself. And she felt every bit of it. She screamed until she couldn't breath, tears streaming down into her mouth. Almost as if trying to drown her. She would have welcomed it at the time. But now she was used to it. Besides the power it gave her was well worth it. Of course being a werewolf had a lot of downsides. Like for instance, today, her first day of collage. She had to maintain that she was human, and given how often she was known to get into fights, that wasn't an easy task.

With a sigh Alex picked up her bag and helmet and walked out the door of her small apartment. Parked outside was her bike. The part of her being a biker chick might have been right after all. She slung her leg over and climbed on. She made sure everything was in place before putting on her helmet and starting the bike. In one swift move, she tore out of the parking lot at a speed that no one should ever drive. It still took her almost an hour to reach the school. Luckily she didn't have early classes. Finding a parking spot was the real fun part, but she managed to find one not to far from the side of the school that most of her classes were. It was more about finding a place where no one would scratch her bike anyway. She headed inside the building and straight to class to her first class which was intro to collage. If there was ever a class that was one hundred percent bullshit it was this one. Luck for her she only had to take it one day. She sat there, listing to the teacher drone on, and on, and on, about all the things that the students needed to know, and all the rules they were meant to follow. She didn't care. Alex decided that watching the other students was a much more interesting use of her time. There was a blonde guy in the back. He was picking a fight with a guy with black hair beside him. Though it seemed friendly. Then a lady to her right who was secretly texting her boyfriend. The guy at the front was taking notes, Alex felt sorry for him. Then there was the lady in the green dress, doodling flowers in her notebook. She was the most interesting of the group to look at. Alex sighed again. This was going to be a long day.

Class dragged on for what felt like forever before Alex was free. She walked down the hall, heading to her class when she heard the footsteps.  

“Well, look here. The bitch herself.” Three men rounded on her.

“Hi willy, did you miss me?” Alex replied. She knew she was trapped between them and a wall, and wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight.

“I still owe you for what you did to my truck little lady.” This train wreck of a man, or really overgrown boy, named Willy spoke to her. To be fair Alex may have pushed his truck into a river one night. But he had been the one who popped the tires on her bike, so really they were even.

 “In a school? Aren't we a little old for this high school shit?” Willy Didn't respond with words, instead he threw the first punch. He may have been human but he still hit like a truck. Alex hit the wall with full force, hard enough to bounce. She sank to the floor like a sack of bricks. She knew she couldn't fight back. If she did, she'd tear him apart. And that would not end well.

“What's a matter? No guts now that I'm actually here?” Alex bit her lip hard enough to cause it to bleed. Blood ran down her chin. It was the only way she could keep herself in line. She had to. She couldn't do time in jail, and a full blown attack might expose the rest of the pack. Willy raised his hand, rounding on Alex, the two at his side laughing so hard they were doubled over. Alex closed her eyes and waited. But the impact never came. Alex opened her eyes. The sight before her was one she wasn't expecting. The lady in the green dress stood there before her. Her fist firmly wrapped around Willy's.

“Really Willy? It's day one and you're already starting a fight? What are you twelve?” Alex could tell from the way she was standing that she was using all of her body weight to hold him in place. The other two goons were in to much shocked to do anything.

“Stay out of this princess. This is between me and her.” Luckily before this could get really ugly someone else had seen the fight, and they had called the campus security.

“What's going on here?” An officer yelled as he approached the group. He had his hand on his waist to grab at whatever weapon the school had approved for the job.

“Oh thank goodness you're here, He hit my friend!” The lady in the green dress was the one to respond. She somehow managed to sound scared and worried all in one. It had none of the bite in it that her voice had before. And sounded sweet and innocent. Alex realized she was acting, and doing a good job at it too. The officer bought the act perfectly and  took the three men with him to see the dean of the school, after yelling at them for hitting a lady. This left Alex alone with her savior. The woman walked over to Alex. She offered a hand to help Alex up which Alex happily took and pulled herself up, careful not to pull to hard.

“Thank you. I wasn't sure what I was going to do.” Alex offered the woman a warm smile. Which she returned.

“Don't worry about Willy. He's mostly talk. He's dad used to be the principle at the high school so he thinks he can run here too. Give him a few weeks to be an adult.” Alex and the mystery woman shared a laughed at that. Before she could reply however, her new friend looked at her watch and let out a sigh of frustration.

“Shit, I've got to get to class. I'll see you tomorrow!” And with that. She bolted down the hallway as fast as she could.

“Wait! I didn't get your name.” Alex shouted after her, but it was to late. She was already gone. Well at least she knew what she was doing tomorrow.

[nashvilletonihon]

An Overseas Love Affair (Or, How I Went From Miss To Mrs.)

This is a long overdue and much needed entry but school really hit me outta nowhere in April and hasn’t stopped. Everyone is just trying to make it to summer holiday at the end of this month which still feels like a million light years away. We haven’t had any vacation days since Golden Week and it’s the longest stretch without a random weekday off we’ve had since I arrived. (I think.)

My one year Japanniversary is coming up in August and I’ll have a totally separate post to sum up all that’s happened in the last year, but there is one major event that needs (and deserves) it’s own entry. 

I’ve thought long and hard about how to approach telling the story of my overseas marriage. (Yep, that’s right. I got married.) I had everything from a very detailed and third person point of view story, right down to a simple Q&A that was about as bare bones as you could get. But nothing seemed quite right...

So I decided on a simple recounting of the events that lead me up to March 22nd, 2019. (My  wedding day.) It may not be spectacular in any way, but to me, it’s the story of how I met my husband. Which is pretty spectacular in and of itself. Enjoy.

The first time I saw Jacob Goodwin Griswold I was sleep deprived, dehydrated, sweaty and exhausted. I was back in my suit sitting in a new hotel conference room in Kyoto City waiting for the next, of what seemed like a never-ending supply of workshops, to begin. I had no idea what I was doing in Japan and was 100% ready to call everything off and fly back home to the States. I missed my family, my cat, my friends and my boyfriend. I was depressed and anxious. As I was sitting there I noticed this guy over in the corner by the table set up for our Prefectural Adviser and Board of Education JET Coordinator. He didn’t particularly stand out in any way. He was tucked up behind the table and the wall, not really talking to anyone, more so observing than doing much else. I didn’t know why, but in that moment I knew I needed to talk to him. Eventually. 

I patiently sat through the mandatory information sessions, waiting for this mystery man in the corner to reveal himself when finally, after eternity, he got up and walked to the center of the room to give his presentation. I have to be honest when I say I don’t remember much about his workshop, which makes it seem unmemorable (which isn’t true!), but be reminded dear reader that I was incredibly jet-lagged and still trying to fully comprehend my new life in a foreign country. You could have had Garth Brooks up there singing and still wouldn’t remember much of it.

What I *do* remember though is the way he talked. Low and soft, with a lisp. That lisp was about the cutest thing I’d ever heard in my entire life and I hung on every word. I remember the way he pushed his glasses up his nose, his hands on his hips as he talked (like a football coach on the sideline). I remember the passion in his voice and the eagerness with which he spoke. He exuded confidence and energy, but it never came off as cocky or self-absorbed. Here was a man who genuinely loved teaching. I sat in rapt attention.

Then, it was over. 30 minutes seemed to fly by in the span of 5. There was another workshop but all I wanted now was the 10 minute break we were going to get afterward. That was going to be my chance...

Ah, I think it’s very important for me to pause just a moment and tell you, my lovely reader, that what I felt for Jacob upon first seeing him wasn’t exactly love. I left for Japan in a very committed and loving relationship, which I was already preparing to return home to in a year’s time. What I felt for Jacob was more of a...pull? As if a string was running out of the center of my chest and straight over to Jacob’s. I wanted to find out what that string meant...

So I did. During that 10 minute break, I went over to the head table to ‘‘casually chat with Leah’‘ and I also just-so-happened to introduce myself to Jacob who also just-so-happened to be nearby. I found out there was a dinner for everyone afterward and so I made a mental note to try and seat myself somewhere in his vicinity. So imagine my surprise (and secret delight) when he sat himself down right across from me later that evening at the restaurant. Dinner was filled with amazing food and drinks, laughter and good conversation. For the first time in 5 days I felt...normal. Jacob kept me in stitches as he ribbed my gullible new roommate and friend while I tried not to seem too eager to ask him questions about himself as I wanted to come off as cool and unassuming. (Which I really don’t think I managed to do but let’s pretend I did for the sake of my ego.) At one point during the meal, Jacob bet he could keep me in Japan more than a year. I scoffed and wished him good luck. I was out of there the moment my contract was finished. He calmly told me he had 8 months to change my mind and I secretly began to wonder if he would... With dinner finished and paid for, talks of heading to a karaoke bar began. A small part of me wanted to go, but the larger part of me was exhausted and knew I had to give my speech to the head of the Board of Education in the morning, so I politely declined amidst protests and peer pressure. I bid everyone goodnight and thought that would be the last time I would ever really see or interact with Jacob having NO idea what the future held.

Looking back I do wish I had ended up going. But maybe if I had things wouldn’t have happened the way they did...

I’ll fast forward a couple of weeks now to (you guessed it) another conference. This one was solely for us new AET’s to receive advice, support and criticism on the self-introductions we would be doing in another week or so once classes started again. Again, it was a lackluster day full of information and meeting like activities which didn’t do much in the way of making my eventual first class any less scary. I saw Jacob throughout the day and we talked during the breaks. We had lunch with another AET at a curry restaurant not far from the conference building and made plans with a handful of other AET’s (both new and seasoned) that night after closing remarks. I was already looking forward to it.

We ended up a hot wing place in the heart of downtown touristy Kyoto. Having had a few pregame drinks at the 7-11 across the street while we waited for our table meant that I was feeling free and uninhibited. So naturally I plunked myself down next to Jacob in a booth only meant for 4 people, 6 maximum, but was now housing almost 10. It was cozy in a way that only being surrounded by good people and being slightly tipsy can be. More drinks were ordered and I reveled in the ‘‘loud foreigner’‘ stereotype as we laughed and talked trash on the conference we had just come from when suddenly I felt a hand on my arm and a mouth close to my ear.

‘‘Do you ever do the small things for people and then wish they would do the same for you?’‘

Everything stopped. I whirled my head to the left and came face to face with searching brown eyes, inquisitive and imploring. No one, ever, in my entire life and asked me that before. It was a secret desire I had never divulged to anyone and yet here was this guy I had only known for a few weeks who had seemingly plucked it out of the ether. I sat there slack-jawed. How does one even reply to a statement like that aside from the one word answer of “Yes.”?

The rest of the night was a blur. After wings we all went to a karaoke bar next door. (It against my better judgement seeing as how it was a Thursday night and I had my first day of work the next morning and it turns out I had every reason to be worried.) Eventually it got to the point where myself and Julianne (the other Tango Prefectural AET) HAD to go. We were cutting it close already catching the last train in a city we didn’t know so Jacob walked us out, hailed a cab and gave us money for the fare to the station. I protested saying we would be fine but he insisted and I felt as if I needed to let him win this one. Julianne and I managed to make it out of the city but got stranded about a 30 minute drive from home at 11:30 PM at a small outdoor station with no attendant. With only one working phone between the both of us, and literally NO idea where we were, Julianne and I were up sh*t creek without a paddle. But guess who was frantically working with another AET on the other end trying to call a taxi company to get us home? Jacob.  It was the first (but not the last) time he would help me. (Clearly we made it back and lived to tell the tale. Humorously now...)

For the sake of the length of this entry, I’m going to condense the next few months into a paragraph or two. After that ill fated train station debacle, Jacob and I didn’t really talk much in the first couple of months I lived in Japan. I was too busy trying not to quit every single day and also work on a relationship that clearly wasn’t going anywhere. I would message him from time to time or see that he had text to check in on me. It was nice to know he was there, even if it was sporadically at first. August and September came and went. Then October hit me like a sack of bricks and after a series of personal life issues I was worse off mentally and emotionally than when I first arrived in Japan. It was at this point when Jacob and I started talking more frequently. At first it was the typical “getting to know you” type questions. Where’d you grow up? What’s your favorite food? Are a cat or a dog person? The usual. As time went on we began to delve deeper into who we were as people and it turns out we were a lot more alike than we cared to admit. That’s not to say we don’t have our differences though. (He likes pit bulls and mastiffs while I’m more of a teeny, tiny, snuggly cat person...) The similarities kept piling up and October finished in the blink of an eye. Suddenly I was staring down the barrel of November and the upcoming Skills Conference at the end of the month. At this point we were talking every single day and I found myself looking forward to our daily messages. It was about a week before the Skills Conference that it hit me...I was in love with him. 

The anticipation that had been building at the thought of seeing Jacob again was much more than one friend getting excited to see the other. It was something much deeper. And so, on the morning of November 30th, I boarded the train bound for Kyoto City and hoped my feelings weren’t one sided. (I had a sneaking suspicion they weren’t.) Not many people know this but Jacob and I share the same birthday. Yep. We were both born on November 30th exactly 8 years (and some hours) apart. It’s a strange little quirk not many couples can claim which I think is pretty dang cool. We had agreed that neither one of us was going to get the other a gift so of course I had to break the “no gifts” rule straight away. I arrived at the conference hall clutching the bag of cookies I had made the night before and sheepishly looking around the crowded auditorium for a head of curly hair. I noticed one of my other friends first and immediately went over to her. We began chatting and a few minutes into the conversation I noticed him. He was wearing a purple shirt and grey wool coat and he looked so cute. I frantically motioned him over and before I could even present the cookies he says “I got you something for your birthday.” while pulling out a fun sized candy bar from his pocket with the most satisfied and self-assured grin on his face. “I got you something too.” I replied, handing over the bag. “They’re homemade cookies.” The look on his face was priceless. I’ve never seen someone so crestfallen at receiving a birthday present before. 

Rachel: 1 Jacob: 0 

Now, before this particular conference, Jacob and I had made a bet. I bet him that he couldn’t go 24 hours without being mean to me. Up to that point, Jacob was notorious for making fun of anything and everything he could about me. From my overalls to my use of a weighted blanket. He didn’t care who was around or listening. He liked picking on me. So, the bet went like this: If he could be nice to be the entire day and won, he got a prize of his choosing. However, if he *couldn’t* be nice to me all day and I won, I got a prize of my choosing. This is important to the story because it will come into play later on in the narrative. 

Although I didn’t see Jacob much that day during actual conference hours, every time I *did* see him he would compliment some part of my outfit or personality. It was weird because I was so used to him being mean that it felt...unnatural. I was impressed by his determination to win. And he actually did really well. He even ran back across the street to pick up the scarf I had dropped on the way back from our lunch break. I was beginning to become genuinely worried I was going to lose...UNTIL we were taking the train to the city after the conference. I don’t remember what the exact comment was, I just know I was drunkenly talking about my ex when Jacob let loose a rather nasty aside that caused our mutual friend to drop his jaw and utter a rather surprised “Damn...” I could by the look on Jacob’s face he couldn’t believe he’d said it either. The regret and guilt were plainly written right across it. I had won.

Rachel: 2 Jacob: 0

The rest of the evening went by in a haze. There’s so much information I want to share with you, but this post is already bordering on needing a sequel so I’ll skip to the next good bit which is my trip down to Kyoto City in December. After the conference, Jacob and I began to seriously plan a visit for me down to the city. I had already made plans to spend the New Year’s holiday in Nara with my Japanese grandparents but I had days prior to that with nothing to do. So, I decided to cash in on my bet winnings. And what was that, you may be wondering? I told Jacob he had to take me to dinner before we went to see Wreck It Ralph 2. That’s right. I made him take me on a date. Which I happen to think is quite clever if I do say so myself. I’ll never forget how nervous I was to see him for the first time after our birthday. Whenever Jacob and I had been around each other before, there was always someone with us. This was the first time we would hanging out by ourselves and I wasn’t quite sure what to do...

I really needn’t have worried so much because it was the best week and a half of my life. We ended up watching Wreck It Ralph all in Japanese and I (in an impressive moment of bravery) made the first move when I snuggled in close halfway through the movie. My New Year’s Eve plans in Nara ended up being canceled due to an unfortunate death in the family, so Jacob and I made a spontaneous trip to Kobe where were went ice skating, walked down by the port and rang in 2019 by visiting our first shrine of the New Year. It felt as if I was living in a dream and I never wanted it to wake up from it.

But, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. The end of the winter holiday was quickly approaching so I suggested Jacob come up to Tango for a few days before we both had to go back to our respective schools. He had never been to that area of Kyoto before so he quickly agreed and a day later we were on a train heading North. The first night we spent in Tango together I got a little too big for my britches and had more whiskey than I should have. After falling asleep while peeing, I apparently made an impassioned speech about wanting to have “little potato people” with him and staunchly decreed that we were going to get married. Jacob gently spoon fed me water and agreed. And that’s when I knew.

For you see, dear reader, in my experience, love tends to sneak in. It hardly ever kicks down the front door, but rather shimmies up the drain pipe and slides open a second story window before slowly lowering itself, soundlessly, into your domicile. I was 100%, without a shadow of a doubt, head over heels in love. But this love, was a different kind of love than any I had experienced before. It was a comforting love. An effortless love. A natural, make you feel good from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, kind of love. And it was all mine. 

Those who are closest to me will vouch for the fact that I NEVER wanted to get married or have children. The mere thought of marriage was an idea that gave me a queasy feeling in my tummy. (Don’t ask me what the thought of children did...) Yes, I had talked of marriage before with various long term and serious boyfriends in the past...but that was only because it seemed like the next logical step in the relationship. It wasn’t necessarily something I wanted so much as an unspoken agreement that it’s what came after you checked off a number of other boxes. That’s just how these things work. So of course when I slowly started to tell my nearest and dearest that I had met the man I was going to marry and we were, in fact, going to get married their responses ranged from genuine delight and happiness to downright disbelief and incredulity. My parents were obviously against it as they had never met Jacob before and had really only heard me seriously talking about him for about 2 months at that point. Their answer to Jacob’s question for approval was a firm and resounding ‘’NO.’’

I love my parents, and while we have our differences, I value their opinions and advice. But that’s exactly what it is. Opinions and advice. Jacob and I talked everything over after his conversation with my parents and decided that getting married was the best thing for US. We didn’t want to wait to make other people feel comfortable because it wasn’t about them. It never was. So, we decided to elope. Getting married in Japan was fairly easy all things considered. There was some paperwork involved which required a trip to the Consulate for some notarial services, a few witnesses who didn’t mind putting their information down on paper and on March 22nd, 2019 we screamed into the Minami-ku City Hall parking lot 10 minutes before they closed. Why the 22nd you ask? Well, in all honesty it was the only day both of us were off from work. The City Hall isn’t open on the weekends or holidays and if we didn’t go on the 22nd we had no idea how long we would have to wait. Neither one of us wanted to take the chance so we agreed the 22nd was best. The entire affair lasted about 25 minutes (thanks to the two kindly Japanese City Hall workers who stayed past closing time to help us fill out a form we forgot (and might have been more excited for us than we were)) and cost us roughly 300 yen for the marriage license.

And suddenly, I was Mrs. Griswold.

Was it the wedding of my dreams? Well, I’m not really sure because I never planned out a wedding for myself before. The furthest I ever got was putting a few photos of dresses I liked in a folder on my desktop marked ‘‘Maybe One Day’‘. Somehow though, the way Jacob and I did it was perfect and now I can’t imagine anything different. (He was in a suit for work and I wore my overalls. Fitting, right?) I was never one for fancy dresses or big events. Heck, we didn’t even have rings picked out but that didn’t matter to me because the most important thing was getting to spend the rest of my life with Jacob as his wife. Everything else was just...extra. 

I am so lucky to married to the most kind, genuine, caring, gentle, sweet, intelligent, passionate, funny and witty man. We have so many things in common but are still our own individuals. I married my best friend and my confidant. Everyday is a new adventure to journey off into with him. He’s my sidekick and I’m his. Four months of marriage have passed in blissful happiness. The hardest thing about our relationship at the moment is the distance between us, but even that is minuscule compared to strength of the love that we have. I could go on and on in great detail about Jacob, but the only way to truly know someone is to meet them. Our biggest goal right now is getting back to the States in order for both of us to meet one another’s respective families and friends. It’s a bit backwards, meeting after the fact, but neither Jacob nor I have ever really done things ‘’by the book’’. We hope to return for Christmas.  In the meantime, I am going to go ahead and wrap this post up. Enjoy some photos of us and feel free to ask questions about anything that seems unclear or that you might want additional information on. I’m an open book!

じゃあまた (See you!)

- レイチェル (Rachel)

The only way we could fit the entire fountain in the picture...

Yakiniku date with the most handsome man in the world. (Who never judges how many grilled meats I eat...)

Jacob was known at his former school as a very strong drinker...

Be still my heart. <3 

Enjoying the gardens of Okayama Castle.

A candid from a Ritsumeikan school trip that I love and is currently my LINE chat background. 

Y’ALL. His mother WILLINGLY gave me this photo and I’ve never been the same since. The shirt. The hair. The tiny patch of chin fuzz!! ‘Lil high school senior behbeh Jacob.

The poor guy’s curly hair fell victim to the humidity in Okayama...but that peach shaved ice certainly helped him forget all about it.

[a-sirens-melody]

Red Tulips Mean I Love You

Day 1: Flowers

Fem!Ishimondo oneshot. This does contain internalized homophobia, so just a heads up! Stay safe!

Maiko had been acting very strange today.

Kiyoko wasn't sure what the issue was. All day, her best friend had seemed nervous. Maiko wouldn't look her in the eye when they talked, yet whenever Kiyoko snuck a glance in class she could see her staring at her. When she caught Maiko (which was only twice, to be honest, as she was much more concerned with focusing on her studies), she would promptly turn away with pale pink flooding her cheeks.

The hall monitor had tried to ask her what was going on in the hallway during what time they had between their second and third classes that morning, but her attempt proved to be fruitless. That conversation had gone something like this:

“Maiko, are you alright? You seem very distressed today. Did I do something to alarm you, perhaps?” She asked, concerned.

Her friend's violet eyes widened and darted to the side. “W-what!? N-no ya idiot, ‘m fine! You didn't do nothin’ wrong okay!!?”

“So then what is wrong? You're being incredibly confusing and I just want to help-”

“Goddamnit, I'm FINE! DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT!!” And with a crimson face, the biker had turned on her heels and fled the scene, like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs.

Kiyoko had yelled after her to not run in the hallway, but Maiko had gotten away before her mouth could cooperate with her brain.

She could not, for the life of herself, put her finger on it. Her friend had said she didn't do anything wrong, but Maiko’s accent had come out stronger and she'd raised her volume, which often happened when she was upset or flustered. But how would Kiyoko herself cause that to happen? All she did was ask how she felt!

For the rest of the day, pondering the answer to what seemed like a simple question made her mind spin. She didn't get to talk to Maiko in between any of her other classes either, which upset her deeply. Was Maiko lying? Did she not want to spend anymore time together? But they'd been soul sisters for months now! If anything, Kiyoko had hoped she would have trusted her enough to explain her reaction that morning!

Maybe I should've just kept my mouth shut, she thought glumly, standing at her locker and gathering her homework that afternoon. Classes had ended, and the biker girl still hadn't spoken another word to the disciplinarian. She must have gotten on one of Maiko's rather sensitive nerves.

She shut the locker door and turned to walk back to her dorm room, head bowed down and tears forming in her ruby red eyes. Usually, she and Maiko would head off to one of their rooms to study together or talk about their day, but that certainly wasn't going happen today.

“Kiyo, wait!”

Maiko…?

Kiyoko tilted her head back up only to be meet with several little red objects shoved into her face and Maiko talking a mile a minute.

“I’m sorry I didn't talk to you all day I've been a nervous fuckin’ wreck and please don't tell me I made you cry, I hate it when you cry and yeah I just wanted ta give these ta you so sorry if they're really shitty I had ‘em in my locker all day and uh well I really really like you so I'm gonna GO NOW YOU CAN JUST READ TH’ NOTE N TALK TO ME LATER OR WHATEVER OKAY BYE!!!”

Rushed footsteps faded away. Kiyoko didn't move for a few minutes, ignoring the few stragglers left in the hallway.

What was that all about? Why wouldn’t she like me? I thought we’d been best friends this whole time already!

Now she was even more confused. She certainly hadn't been expecting to get what she now identified to be a bouquet of flowers shoved in her face with Maiko speeding through an explanation so fast she could hardly understand her. Were these supposed to be friendship flowers? Was their friendship official now? Kiyoko had never had a friend before Maiko; she didn’t understand how this worked.

When she pulled the flowers away from her slightly teary face, she could properly see that they were blood-red tulips. She counted 10 of them, all bundled up with a white ribbon tied tightly around the light green stems. The aforementioned note was a small folded up piece of white notebook paper hanging from the ribbon, and Kiyoko carefully tore it off. As she walked to her room, she unfolded the note. Surely this would explain the strange events of today.

The handwriting was very neat and tiny, as if whoever had wrote the letter tried their very best to make it look presentable. If Maiko had written it, she definitely had taken her time because her handwriting was always sloppy and rushed, huge letters scrawled onto a report or a math worksheet. Kiyoko began to read.

Kiyo,

You’re probably wondering why these tulips were in front of your door or who they’re from. Unless I handed them to you in person. Then you know damn well who it is and I’m screwed.

Look, you know how much I suck at asking guys out. Every time I tried, I got so nervous that I started yelling and scared the shit out of the poor dude. It’s happened ten times now.

TEN.

You would think the the leader of the most badass biker gang in Japan had enough charm and confidence to win over any guy she wanted. But I haven’t succeeded once in getting a date, and that kinda losing streak does a shit ton of damage to a girl’s self esteem.

(Sorry for all the cussing by the way. I’m really really nervous about this, but if you were here as I write you’d probably scold me to “watch your profanity!!”)

Anyway, the point is I really suck at confessions. It's gotten hard to fall in love because I know I'll scare someone off of I try to admit it. But I don't want to lie to you anymore. Even before we were friends, you were never scared of me so hopefully this letter won't scare you either.

I'm in love with you.

God, Kiyo, I love you so much, it hurts.

You're so pretty, did you know that? You're too cute for your own good with your long shining black hair and your scarlet eyes that sparkle every time you talk about the future or something that excites you and you’re so smart and kind and beautiful and

The next paragraph was scribbled out and difficult to decipher. It seemed Maiko hadn’t meant to put her nervous rambling onto paper.

Fuck

FUCK

I said too much didn't I? This is way too much for a confession isn't it? Hell I don't even know if you swing that way. Oh god wait what if you hate me now? PLEASE DON'T HATE ME KIYO I CAN'T CONTROL THIS

Okay that's fine it's fine it doesn't matter if you don't love me back anyway I can deal with that! I've dealt with rejection 10 times before, so what's another one?

Um

So.

Yeah.

You can get back to me whenever I guess. Enjoy the flowers.

-Maiko

Oh.

Kiyoko had stopped in front of her door, silently reading the final paragraphs of the letter. She definitely hadn't been expecting a love confession.

She...loves me.

Maiko loved her. As more than a friend. Somehow that was not an unwelcome thought. It surprised her. Why did she feel absolutely ecstatic when that thought ran through her head? Her skin felt tingly and warm and she felt as though butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. And when she realized the reason for this, the weight hit her like a sack of bricks.

She loved Maiko back.

But if that was true...then why did she also feel so scared? Like feeling this way wasn't right? Was something wrong with her? Wasn't she straight? Every time she dreamed of becoming prime minister, she always had a husband, not a wife. Now she might not have imagined any specific quality she particularly wanted other than someone respectable, or found that relationship...desirable when she woke up and remembered her dream. She thought about being with Maiko more than any boy in their class, but that didn't mean some of them weren't good people!

But the more she thought about it, still standing straight as a rod outside her dorm, the more she began to realize she didn't want to be with a man. The only person she truly wanted a romantic relationship with was Maiko. She wanted to be by her side through thick and thin, to live with her when they graduated, to smile with her, cry with her, hold her hand, and…kiss her.

Oh God she was so deeply in love with Maiko!!

Her physical reaction was a bit delayed. First, she opened the door after what felt like hours, then closed and locked it. Then she slid down, put her head on her knees, and cried, the tulips loose in her grip.

She should've been happy. Her best friend-no, she was more than that now, her crush oh God- admitted to returning her affections. But all Kiyoko could think about was the fact that she was and would always be unable to love a man, to be normal. Never in the history of Japan had there been a female prime minister, which made her dream hard enough to achieve without a tainted and broken background, but now she'd have to run against straight candidates. Normal people whose hearts didn't flutter or brains short circuited when they thought about a person of the same sex.

She hated this. Sobbing on the floor for no one to hear, accusing herself of being broken and unworthy of anyone’s affection, male or female. She wanted to break this poisonous cycle of negativity but couldn't. Maiko didn't deserve her. She was a crybaby and much too strict and socially awkward and how could anyone love her when she was such a mess and couldn't even love herself?!!

She sat there and cried for so long that when she finally wiped her overflowing eyes and took a deep breath to recollect herself, it was an hour until curfew. She stood up and tilted her head back down to the bouquet on the ground. She bent over and picked it up, wondering all the while why Maiko had given her tulips instead of something typical for romantic gestures like roses.

I may as well ask her that when I go to her dorm, Kiyoko thought. As much as a part of her apparently wanted a romantic relationship, she needed to talk this out with Maiko. Maybe she had gone through this herself and knew what Kiyoko was dealing with. It would be nice to have someone reassure her that what she was feeling wasn't wrong or unnatural right now. Also, it would probably be best to give the other girl closure as soon as possible.

Brushing imaginary lint off of her perfectly clean skirt with tulips in hand, she opened her door and marched down the hall. Maiko’s dorm was only ten paces away, which wasn’t nearly enough time for Kiyoko to figure out what she was going to say. Perhaps it would be wise to start off with returning her feelings (something that still left her reeling) and ask about the flowers. By the time she approached her friend’s dorm, her heart was beating out of her chest and her grip on the tulips had tightened so much her knuckles had turned white.

However, she didn't have much time to be afraid. So she swallowed her fear, took a deep breath, and rang the doorbell with shaky hands.

Silence.

Kiyoko started to wonder if Maiko had gone to sleep and began to consider returning the next day when the door creaked open.

All Kiyoko could see of the biker girl was one dark purple eye peeking out from the crack of the slightly open door. “Kiyo?” She called out timidly.

“Hello, Maiko,” she replied back, her voice shaking. The moral compass had never been so nervous in her life. She cleared her throat and continued, “I read your note.”

“S-so? Do you hate me now?”

Kiyoko met her gaze, determined. “Not at all! Even if I wasn't...homosexual myself, I would never judge you for the way you feel about anyone be they male or female!”

Maiko appeared to be thinking over this statement. “Oh...thanks, I guess.” But then her eyes widened at fully processing the sentence. “Wait...you said ‘even if I wasn't homosexual’...” She trailed off, glancing to the side and looked back up with hope glimmering within royal purple oceans. “So you are?”

The hall monitor flushed and began fiddling with the tulips to distract herself. “Y-yes. And I feel the same way about you, Maiko. I… I love you too. Although I have- ACK!”

The other girl had yanked open the door and pulled Kiyoko into a crushing hug before she could say anything else. She whispered in her ear, “God oh thank God, I was so scared you’d hate me or that I'd scare you off like all the others. Please don't leave me, I love you so much.” Her body was shaking badly, and Kiyoko could feel the other girl’s tears staining her blazer.

She hesitated, then wrapped her arms around her love. “I’ll never leave you, I promise,” she whispered back, tears pricking at the corners of her scarlet eyes. “Though I am afraid of what the future will bring.”

Maiko pulled back and looked at her, still a bit teary-eyed with concern now shining in her eyes. “What do you mean? You wanna go inside ‘n talk about it?”

Kiyoko sniffed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Yes, please.”

Maiko grabbed her hand that wasn’t holding the tulips and squeezed it reassuringly while reaching for the door and slowly turning the knob. They walked in hand in hand, and Kiyoko was relieved at a change in scenery. The girls had spent many afternoons in each other’s dorm, studying or just talking about whatever came to mind. She glanced at the Crazy Diamonds flags stacked up in the right corner of the room and the bike magazines spread out on the bed. This room was messy and laid back, a stark contrast to the hall monitor’s own calligraphy covered walls and tidy room.

It was one of her favorite things about Maiko, now that she thought about it. Her lifestyle and personality was so extravagantly different from her own, and yet they shared a friendship so deep they considered themselves soul sisters.

“Earth to Kiyo?”

The disciplinarian snapped back to the present to see that Maiko had brushed some of the magazines off of the bed to sit down on. Kiyoko set the bouquet down on the dresser behind the bed and joined her. Maiko’s arm came up to wrap around her and she leaned into the warmth, nuzzling the other girl’s shoulder.

“So what’s bothering you?” The biker asked. “You said something about the future?”

“Y-yes, actually,” she stuttered. “I didn't actually figure out that I liked you until I read your letter. A-and I was happy, don't get me wrong! But also…”

“This'll make it harder to become prime minister, won't it?” Maiko finished for her.

“Indeed.” Kiyoko nodded. “But that's not all! I didn't know I was a lesbian until a few hours ago! And it…” She choked up and tears flooded her vision. “It scared me. I thought something was wrong with me because I couldn't ever see myself wanting to be with a man.” Tears flowed freely down her face now. “And I think that feeling might return and I hate that and I just want to know that there's nothing wrong with me!”

She sobbed and shivered for a few minutes while Maiko rubbed her back in calm and comforting circles. “Shhh shh, it's okay. It's gonna be okay, Kiyo,” she murmured soothingly. “There's nothing wrong with you at all, you're not broken. You're a sweet, beautiful, confident girl that’ll be the best damn prime minister this country has ever seen.”

Kiyoko sniffed and looked back up at her. “R-really?”

“Hell yeah.” Maiko smiled. She brought her hand up to wipe away the tears. “I'll always be here to help you no matter what. We’re in this together, ok?”

“O-ok.”

“Besides,” Maiko continued, “I went through somethin’ similar. Thought I had to choose one gender to be attracted to.” She looked far off and smiled. “Actually, Fukawa helped me overcome that.”

“Did he really?”

“Yeah. It's kind of a miracle that he didn't get sick of my dumbass pining for you.”

“Language!” Kiyoko scolded and swatted the back of her head. “And you aren't dumb!”

Maiko hummed non committedly in response. Her other hand was in her lap, and Kiyoko picked it up and squeezed it. She beamed at her.

They stayed like that for a while, just smiling and knowing the other girl would always offer unending support and love. Then, Kiyoko realized she had one more question.

“Why tulips?”

“Hm?”

“The bouquet. You gave me tulips instead of typical roses. Not that I’m complaining by any means, but it did intrigue me.”

The gang leader blushed and avoided the other girl’s eyes to stare at the ground. “Well…’s like what you said. Roses are, like, the official flower of love, but they get used a ton ‘n I wanted something different. So I got ya tulips instead because…” She tilted her head back up, face entirely painted in rosy red and honesty and embarrassment glinting in eyes framed in eyeliner. “I thought they kinda symbolised you cause they’re simple but still really pretty ‘n not as appreciated as often…” Her voice trailed off, quieter than Kiyoko thought was possible.

She was stunned at how much thought and passion Maiko had put into the arrangement. Her girlfriend really was the sweetest thing. “I appreciate the effort you put into it,” she said. She leaned over and kissed her cheek and grinned when Maiko immediately began blushing even though she was as well. “They're beautiful flowers.”

Maiko squeaked and hid her face. “It's f-fine.”

The moral compass giggled. You're very cute when you blush, you know that?” At this, the other girl buried her face in her hands. Kiyoko grinned in success.

“Shut up,” came a muffled reply.

“Nope.” As much as it was to tease Maiko, she was going to have to get serious for a second. “But in all seriousness, thank you. For listening to my problems.”

Maiko finally stopped hiding her face and gave a shy smile back. “No problem. What kinda girlfriend would I be if I didn't listen to you?”

Kiyoko’s heart fluttered. She couldn't remember ever being this happy. The future looked brighter already, and the thought of the days to come excited her. “I have to get back to my dorm before curfew,” she said to Maiko, “but one more thing.” She let go of the biker’s hand and brought her own to her face, cradling it and looking straight into the amethyst eyes she loved so dearly.

“I love you. Have a good night, dear.”

Maiko's face turned cherry red again. “I l-love you too! GOODNIGHT!”

With that, Kiyoko picked up the tulips and left the room.

That night, she dreamed of her new girlfriend and was amazed as to how she earned such unyielding love.

[kissmekissme-calum]

Falling For My Best Friend - Fangs Fogarty Imagine Part 2

Requested : Yes, by a few lovelies! Hope you guys like it! 

Word Count : 2.9K

If you guys want a part 3, let me know and please let me know what you’d like to happen. I hope you guys like this part, wasn’t exactly what i wanted to happen but i think it’s going to turn out amazing!

Pairing: Fangs x Reader (main) Sweet Pea x Reader (friends)

Part 1

-

Weeks had passed by and you and Fangs had been getting closer and closer, you were now even an official couple and you couldn’t be happier. Fangs was great, he was always looking out for you, when he wasn’t doing serpent business, he was at your side, showing you love you never knew you needed. Life was perfect for you and Fangs.

But it wasn’t perfect for Sweet Pea.

Sweet Pea had to watch from afar as he saw you and Fangs, couldn’t help the stabs of jealousy that poked at him whenever you two were in the same room as him. It hurt like he was in the pits of hell, but he had no one to blame but himself, he was the reason this was happening, there was no denying that.

Toni walked up to him and snapped her fingers in front of his face, a stern expression on her face. “Stop staring at them like you’re about to kill him, Pea. You had your chance, you lost it and now she’s happy like she should be. Let her be happy! Don’t ruin this for them.” For being so much smaller than he was, Toni had a certain way that she was able to tame the taller serpent. She pushed his shoulder down into a seat and sat next to him. “I’ve never seen either of them this happy before.”

He nodded. “Me neither, but then again since they got together they haven’t really talked to me, maybe that’s why they’re so happy.”

Toni shook her head. “No, that’s not the reason. They make each other happy. (YN) just actually said something about missing having you around but she doesn’t want to make things anymore awkward between you guys than they already are. You need to talk to her, Pea, set things right with you guys again. I miss when all of us were able to hang out, you need to fix this, so we can do that again. This is on you.”

Sweet Pea nodded and stood, heading your way at the bar. It was his turn to be nervous now and he did not like this feeling. Was this what you were feeling when you were making your way to him and then he said the words that hurt you? Broke you? Another stab of guilt hit his stomach, man, he really was an ass to you that night.

Taking a sip of the coke you and Fangs were sharing, you let out a giggle as you saw Sweet Pea coming your way. Your eyes lit up slightly, Fangs took notice and followed your gaze, his eyes lighting up also at the sight of his best friend. For the past couple weeks, if you guys had wanted to talk to him, you guys had to go to him and when you that, he’d turn his eyes away and ignore you and you and Fangs would have no choice but to walk away with no mending for your friendship with Pea.

“Sweets!” you shriek, setting the can on the counter before jumping towards the tall serpent who only stared at you in surprise as you wrapped your arms around him. “Missed you!”

Sweet Pea put one arm around you while he looked over at Fangs who only shrugged your shoulders, a grin on his face. “She missed you, you ass.”

“I did!” you reply letting go of Sweet Pea and going back to your bar stool. “Things have been weird lately and I don’t want them to be weird anymore. I want my friend back!” Fangs’ arm had snuck around your waist, securing you to him, you blushed at the touch, even after weeks, you still felt the electricity of his touch.

Fangs reached over and grabbed another stool and placed it in front of you and him and motioned for Pea to sit. “Come talk to us, we don’t bite.”

“Hard.” You wink at the two boys who gave you small laughs in response. It wasn’t much of a response and things still felt a little weird but you felt some of the tension in the air cease at the sounds. This was the start of fixing the friendship you missed having.

For hours the three of you sat at the bar with the occasional visit from Toni as she was working a shift and also had Cheryl there for company, the three of you talking about anything and everything. Going from talking about life back at Southside High to life at Riverdale High, to things you dreamed you could be. It felt like the old times had come back around.

You sighed in content as Fangs stood and went to the bathroom, you followed him with your eyes as he walked away until you heard a sigh. You disconnected your gaze and looked at Sweet Pea who didn’t look like his normal self, you had a feeling as to what was the reason but you didn’t want to say anything until he said something first, you didn’t want him to have another fit and break another pool stick.

“I missed talking with you guys.” He admitted and you nodded in agreement. “I guess I just didn’t know what to say or how to say it. After that night,” he trailed off, closing his eyes at the memory. The pain in your eyes, the tears that threatened to spill down your face, more stabs of guilt for the past that he couldn’t take back. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, (YN), I really didn’t. I guess I just didn’t know what to think and it hit me like a sack of bricks.”

The memories came back to you too, and you wanted to be sad about what had happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be sad about it. If it wasn’t for that night’s events coming to light, you probably wouldn’t be where you are with Fangs right now and at the moment, you didn’t want a life without Fangs in it the way he was, he made your life worth living, he made you happy, happier than you knew you could be.

“It’s okay, Pea…” you began but he shook his head.

“It’s not okay, (YN), I saw the pain in your eyes. The pain that I caused and I’ve been feeling guilty about it ever since. I want to make it up to you. Can I take you to Pop’s? Without Fangs, I’ve heard you two are together now, but I really just want to have a meal with you, make things right with us again.”

Fangs was making his way back when you took Pea’s hand in both of yours and nodding. “Just like old times?”

“Just like old times.” He agreed, a small smile on his face.

A couple days later you and Sweet Pea sat across from each other at a booth at Pop’s. Each of you had a milkshake of your choice and then a large serving of French fries in the middle of the table to share. A comfortable conversation was passing between you guys and it felt like that past few weeks had never happened, no awkward phase, just two old friends hanging out again.

As you took a fry and placed it into your mouth, you couldn’t help but notice the look that Sweet Pea was giving you, it wasn’t his normal look. The smile that adorned his face, held something that you noticed Fangs had when he looked at you. But that couldn’t be right, Sweets had very clearly told you that he didn’t have the feelings for you that you’d hoped he did. If you had to be honest with yourself, the look he gave made you feel slightly uncomfortable.

You quickly ate your fry and stood up abruptly, shaking Pea from his gaze. “Everything okay, (YN)?” He was confused as to your sudden standing.

“I…uhh…” you tried to form words but they couldn’t happen. “I’m sorry , Pea, I just saw how you were looking at me and I can’t do that.”

“Looking at you like what?”

You let out a sigh as you began to walk slowly backwards, towards the exit of Pop’s. “You look at me like Fangs does, Sweets. That’s the look I thought I gave you before. I just wanted my friend back, for things to go back and we cold forget about the awkward moments we’ve had lately, but you just brought the awkwardness back.”

“(YN), I’m sorry.” He stood also and followed you out of the diner. “I didn’t mean to, I guess I’ve just been seeing you differently lately.”

“I know you have.” You respond, climbing onto your bike and placing the helmet on your head. “And that’s why I don’t think I can be friends with you anymore.” You sped away leaving Sweet Pea in the trail of dust your bike left behind.

Sweet Pea didn’t even flinch as the gravel kicked back at him. His eyes followed your bike until he could no longer see it. He couldn’t tell at first if he’d stopped seeing your bike because of how far away you’d driven, or if it was the red of anger that filled them. Anger, not directed at you, but at himself. He just couldn’t stop ruining things between the two of you and he was hating himself for it.

At the sound of your bike outside the trailer, Fangs met you at the doorway, concern etched all over his face. “What happened, (YN)? Pea not show or something?”

“Oh he showed.” You hissed, anger had begun filling you once you left Pop’s. Anger coursing through you at Sweet Pea’s admission that he had begun to like you as more than a friend, saw you as someone who could be more than a friend. “Remember the day he told me he didn’t want to be more than friends, never saw me as more than that.”

Fangs nodded.

You pursed your lips before sliding your tongue over them and rocking on your heels. “Well, apparently he’s had a change of heart.”

Fangs may have been a serpent but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t a total sweetheart underneath the leather jacket. Very rarely did Fangs ever get angry, he was always the calming stone within the serpents, trying to defuse things before they became a fight. When Fangs got angry though, it was best for people to clear from his path or face his anger head on.

You noticed the change in your boyfriend’s demeanor instantly. His normally relaxed and beautiful eyes now had a tinge of red in them as they narrowed, his cheekbones getting sharper and more defined, his lips trembling with anger. His eyes met yours and you shook your head. “Don’t even think about it, Fangs. He’s not worth it, he’s still your best friend even if he’s not mine anymore.”

“(YN), he hurt you before saying what you never wanted to hear from him and now he’s basically turning things around on you. Telling you what you don’t want to hear. He told us that he wanted to fix our friendship, between all of us, but he had to apologize to you first, but he didn’t apologize. He only made things worse.”

You calmly walked over to him and put your hands on his chest, willing him to come down from his angry high. “Fangs, I don’t want you to do something you’ll end up regretting.”

Fangs’ eyes found yours again, holding them. “I waited so long for you, I don’t want to lose you now.”

Grabbing his hand, you slowly lead him back to his bedroom. “I’m not going anywhere, Fangs. I’m with you, right where I want to be. Now, can we stop talking about him? I want to be with you and only you and I want to show you. Can I?”

A slight blush filled his cheeks as he nodded.

“Good, now lay down. It’s going to be a long night.”

Hours later, you lay on Fangs’ bare chest, both of you still trying to catch your breaths. The room was now dark, only your attempts to get your breathing back to normal could be heard. Fangs’ hand was tracing delicate patterns along your back, earning shivers from you, your hand rested upon his heart, feeling the beats slow back to normal, the feeling relaxed you.

“Did I prove to you that I want only you?”  you ask, breaking the silence of the night.

A light chuckle rumbled through his chest, his hand never stopped moving along your back. “Yeah, I didn’t expect you to prove it to me like that though.”

You lifted your head from his chest to smile at him. “So, I should never do it again? Is that what you’re saying?”

His eyes widened in shock and he quickly shook his head. “No, no, no! I swear, no.”  A small laugh. “Man, I’d love for you to do that every night if you absolutely wanted to.”

Slowly you let your head fall back to his chest. “For you, Fangs, I just might. I have to admit, I never thought we’d ever be like this?”

“What do you mean?” he asks sitting up, bringing you with him. “Do you…have regrets?” his voice sounded so disappointed, it nearly broke your heart.

“Of course not.” You respond, sitting up as well. “It’s just, I never thought we’d be a couple, I never thought I’d be naked in your bed with you. I never thought I’d be in love with you. I wish I’d seen the possibilities of us sooner instead of wasting my time on people who would never give me the light of day.”

Fangs relaxed at your explanation, and he slowly eased back down to lay on the bed. “You’re in love with me?”

You playfully slapped his chest as he pulled you back down so your head nestled into his neck, inhaling his scent. “Of course that’d be the part you paid attention to.”

“Well, that’s the most important part of what you said, baby. I thought about the possibilities of us a long time ago, but always thought you were out of my league, that’s why I accepted for the longest time that I’d only be your friend that you’d come to after heartbreak. I settled because I never thought I’d have more.” He turned his gaze towards the window and the dark that rested behind it. “I’m glad I was wrong though, glad I finally took the chance and asked you. Never in a million years did I think you’d say yes to someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” you sat up again, focusing on his face, the words he spoke. “Fangs, I don’t understand.”

He sat up again, his hands resting in his lap, his gaze not meeting yours. “(YN), look at me. I’m not nearly as tall or tough as the rest of the serpents, I’ve always been overlooked compared to them. That’s why when I overheard you and Jug talking months ago about you having a crush on Sweet Pea, I accepted my fate that I’d never be worthy of anyone. Everyone would always prefer Sweets over me, so it came as no surprise that you did too. The girl of my dreams, falling for my best friend. It seemed I’d never escape that.”

“But you did.” You say interrupting him, your fingers along his jawline, turning his face to look at you. “You did escape that and I escaped the false reality I was in before. I should’ve seen that he never gave me the looks that you did. At first I thought it was just you being a nice friend, but it turned out I was wrong, it was you being the kind and caring badass that I know you are. The face of someone who was in  love, Fangs, you were in love with me.”

“And I still am.” He placed his hand over yours.

“From here on out, Fangs, I will always choose you. Only you.”

Fangs grinned and pulled you in for a kiss. “I never thought I’d fall for my best friend.”

You straddled his lap. “But I’m so glad you did.” You were going in for another kiss when you heard a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it.” He responds, jumping out of bed and placing some sweats on before making his way to the door. When he opened it, he sighed, he knew that this visit was going to be coming whether he liked it or not. “What do you want, Pea? She told me that she told you that she’s not your friend anymore.”

“I know.” Sweet Pea’s gruff voice responded. “I’ve had a long day of Toni and Cheryl yelling at me.” He stepped inside when Fangs stepped back from the door. “I got jealous and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Fangs nodded at the apology. “Alright, but I’m not the one you have to apologize to.”

Sweets nodded. “I know.” He turned towards the hall and raised his voice slightly. “(YN), come out. We really need to talk, actually, I just really need to apologize.”

You stepped into the hall, wearing one of Fangs’ shirts, arms crossed as you faced the boys in your living room. “Better make it quick, Pea, my patience is running thin.”

“I know.”