#The only good thing is I suppose I have a new wok now. Which is nice.

[rahabs]

Definitely up there on the list of shitty birthdays. Between work being an absolute shitshow (including me walking in to 35+ emails and the knowledge that we weren't given the stuff we needed to cover our coworker effectively, a rush assignment that needed to be done EOD, and a bunch of other stuff), it was gale force winds, my building parkade was broken into, I'm running on barely any sleep, my birthday feeling like an afterthought the way my siblings' weren't, my dog shitting on the floor in protest for the first time in awhile and me coming back to clean it... I bought myself birthday cupcakes, which is probably a little pathetic, especially since it's not in my budget right now for takeout. I paid for the extra little happy birthday things to be put on them, but they weren't. I'm too tired for this. Just bone-weary.

[hasufin]

Knives Out

I just recently “upgraded” my kitchen knives.

I went from these:

to these:

The reaction has been kind of interesting. Now, obviously this is in the context of a middle-aged guy talking about his new toys, so clearly I consider these an improvement. And that’s been the response. The one which really stood out to me was “Those look like they belong to someone who really knows what they’re doing”. And that’s not false, I suppose, but I’m kind of wondering what the tell is.

See, the older knives are mostly a set I bought, oh, about twenty years ago. They were more expensive, and name brand (Calphalon). The lower are all cheap knives which I bought primarily from the Wok Shop. They’re not all the same brand (though mostly Kiwi). The older knives are heavier and mostly of a higher quality steel, though I will confess the nakiri was not cheap. But objectively the older set are “better” knives.

For me, the difference is that the newer knives are a better fit for my actual use case. The old set consisted of a chef’s knife which is good for large cuts of meat... we’re mostly a vegetarian household and I never buy large cuts of meat; a bread knife which comes in handy once in a while but it can go in a drawer; a santoku which I used frequently, a serrated knife which I basically only ever used if I needed the bread knife but it was dirty, and four steak knives which I used in lieu of paring knives. Not a bad set, but not what I need.

The new set has a light cleaver that works well for most fruits and vegetables, an usuba bocho which is for cutting fruit, a “butcher” knife which is actually a great all-around utility knife, a nakiri which is ideal for vegetables, and an actual paring knife which yes does make a difference. Interestingly, the most expensive of these is still only $30, and most are less than $10. But they are a perfect fit for my needs.

In fact, I think them being cheap - and of lower quality steel - is actually better. I recall a chef explaining that professional cooks don’t spend a lot of money on fancy knives - they want knives they can abuse and beat up; it is no coincidence that the ones I bought are very popular for restaurants. What I’ve noticed is, I can get a much sharper edge with my cheap knives, and it’s a lot less work to sharpen them. Sure, that edge only lasts for preparing a single meal - but all I have to do is spend a minute or two sharpening them again! The other ones, I’d spend far longer sharpening, and only get a mediocre edge; the sole advantage is, that edge holds much longer. I’m going to sharpen my knives before each use anyway, so this fits what I’m actually doing.

And that’s the thing. More expensive doesn’t always mean better. In my case, it turns out what I want is cheap knives. Very specific cheap knives, but cheap knives.

[writing-gifts]

datura (moth!bruno x butterfly!reader)

—–

A/N: this fics 30k+ words now and im happy that ive stayed with it this long, but yea thats it lol

First Chapter || Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Reader is gender neutral!

-----

[Late Fall]

You didn't think you'd be meeting Abbacchio so soon--perhaps sometime after Winter. But one day you're taking shelter from the cold when Bruno comes to visit.

These days you never really know for sure when he'll show but this was definitely earlier than usual. Nevertheless, you're glad to have someone to cure your boredom...until you see there's someone else very familiar with him.

You hide partially behind your door trying to slow your racing heart. Was this excitement or fear? Maybe both?

“Er, you’re Abbacchio right?”

When the wasp nods but doesn’t further speak you look at Bruno, but he simply gives you an encouraging smile. You wanted to scold the moth for the nonexistent forewarning, but at the same time with a surprise visit you didn't have time to fret before the actual meeting.

You’ll have to go along with this either way so you put on a polite smile. “You guys want to come in?”

“No, I'd rather stay out here,” Abbacchio replies.

Your brows furrow and your smile becomes more forced. “Uh…”

But it's cold! What the hell, do you two not get cold or something!?

It takes you a moment but then you realize that the wasp was being sarcastic. Probably. But you’re not sure if it’s because he’s trying to be funny or if he doesn’t like you. Or maybe he was messing with you?

Bruno throws him a bemused look. "It would be more comfortable inside don't you think?”

The wasp stares at you in a way that makes you feel like you're being sized up but eventually relents. “Alright.”

You move so Abbacchio can walk in, but Bruno stops next to you.

"Don't be intimidated. He can be like that toward new people and he’s a little grumpy that he had to walk all the way over here," he whispers.

You look over at the wasp already sitting on the daybed remembering his lack of flight and nod. But you weren’t sure if you wanted to deal with a bitchy bug right now.

Bruno goes to sit, but you scuttle to your room with some quickly mumbled excuse so you can collect your thoughts.

What were you supposed to do? Entertain them both? You were far removed from having to actively entertain Bruno when he came over so you felt out of your element.

This meeting should have happened in Spring instead.

You must have been in your room for too long because Bruno shows up.

When he sees you sitting on your bed he raises a brow. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing really. I’m just unsure what to do so I'm hiding. Are we like hanging out?”

Bruno shakes his head. "I don't understand. You don't need to do anything."

"But I feel like I have to since Abbacchio is here though. And he really doesn't look like he wants to be here."

"Well, we aren't going to stay too long if that makes things better. He just wanted to see you. Of course he's too prideful to admit that though."

"Well…He could just be more polite though," you grumble.

"Then he wouldn't be Abbacchio…" Bruno sighs. "Don't worry I talked to him so it'll all work out."

You purse your lips. "...Hey next time just give me a heads up if you're bringing someone over, okay?"

If your unexpected guest was just a little amiable then you wouldn't have cared but that wasn't the case.

Bruno looks a bit surprised that you seem genuinely annoyed, but he gives you the affirmation you want. So even though you're still reluctant, you move off the bed.

“Okay we can go back.”

You walk ahead of Bruno and when you get to the main room you try to talk to the wasp again.

“Uh...Do you want anything to drink?”

"No thanks."

"...Okay."

Instead of sitting down you stand there. Bruno wouldn't lie to you but the wasp's behavior said otherwise. Your friend gently grabs your arm and leads you to the daybed to sit.

"Do you want me to get you something to drink ____?"

"...Sure? It can be whatever."

You realize too late that if he's getting drinks, he’s going to leave you alone with Abbacchio. You squint at Bruno as he exits the room. It shouldn't take long but you're sure Bruno's going to take as long as he sees fit.

So while he’s gone, you sit there quietly sneaking peeks at the wasp trying to figure out how to move things along. He sits, leg spread, looking at nothing in particular.

You had seen the occasional albino insect but this was the first wasp. Which isn’t surprising since you kept clear of any. Until now.

“What?”

You flinch from the sudden break in silence. “W-What?”

“You keep looking at me.”

You try to smile but it definitely comes off more as a grimace from the weird look you get in return.

Sighing, you frown. “I’m sorry. I’m going to be straight forward and say that I feel super awkward right now, and I don’t know what to say or do.”

The wasp crosses his arms. “...You don’t need to say anything. I actually prefer the silence.”

"Oh."

You continue to sit in silence that's slightly less awkward, but again the wasp breaks it.

“How’s your leg?”

Your eyes widen a bit from him trying to start a conversation. “Oh, it’s okay.”

You stretch out your leg, bending it a few times. There was no more pain but a bunch of scars were left behind around your thigh and calf.

“That's good.”

Since he was here you could show your gratitude in person. You hesitate for a moment but remember what Bruno had told you at the forest clearing. And you didn't want to let this possible conversation die.

“Hey, thank you for helping me that day. You really saved my life. And the fact you managed to open that lizard's mouth was pretty amazing!"

You see the stern expression on the wasps face slightly fall, and he gives you a nod. “It wasn't anything--I mean….You're welcome.”

You give your first genuine smile today and Abbacchio looks away looking a bit flushed.

A moment later and the moth finally returns.

"I’m back with your drink ____."

You turn towards Bruno as he walks towards the daybed.

“What the hell were exactly doing in there Bucciarati?” Abbacchio looks over, sounding unimpressed with Bruno's little plan.

"You're not slick Bruno," you add.

He raises a hand in surrender. “Okay you got me. But it worked didn't it?”

You look at Abbacchio.

“...I guess it’s a start,” Abbacchio says.

"I saw you blushing from the kitchen," Bruno says.

“I--Leave me alone.”

You hold back your laugh lest you want to be scowled at by the wasp next.

Bruno hands over your drink and you thank him and relax back into the daybed. Maybe it's okay if they decide to stay longer.

----

For the first time this season, you can't fly. Even after trying to warm yourself up with all your blankets, you'd only be able to stay off the ground for a short time before your wings would give up. And unless you were planning on climbing up the stems of the flowers near your home there was no way you were getting any nectar.

So over the next couple days, whenever you couldn’t fly, you were content with spending most of your time sewing, knitting or sleeping. Even the days where you could fly you'd find yourself spending most of the day inside anyways.

But after a while you start to feel confined in your home, and you suppose you need to do something different. So you finally gather the courage to venture a good distance from your home by yourself.

You decide to use this opportunity to visit a neighbor--a self-proclaimed “vegetarian” spider--so you can get started on Bruno's 2nd gift.

Before you were hesitant to go, even with the gift on the line, but after everything that's happened with Abbacchio you were more at ease with the idea.

Once you actually see the spider's small home, you notice there's no webs for you to get stuck in.

With the spider's help, you hope to learn how to create sheer cloth or lace as he called it. In return, you're willing to part with the rest of the honey you had sitting around.

There was the option to trade for already made lace but you were hellbent on making this gift all on your own. When you tell the spider, Ilyas, this he seems even more excited to share his passion.

“Rarely anyone likes to visit me!”

You smile feeling a bit sad for him. Now that you actually had met him properly you can tell the "rumors" about him being completely harmless were true. He only seemed to use his webs to make lace. How it wasn't sticky was a mystery to you though.

After trying for the first time, Ilyas tells you that you're a natural but that feels like an over-exaggeration. You decide to visit more often though because of his enthusiasm.

He encourages you to practice with small squares first before doing any complicated shapes, and to also experiment with different lace patterns.

When you try to practice on your own, you struggle with making the lace without the spider's help, and the strange tool they had to speed up the process. All you had was your needles, threads, and your inexperienced hands.

There were many times where you would miss a stitch and not notice until you had finished the square. It was frustrating but you would keep at it, trying to finish at least one square a day.

You stare at your most recent square. You didn’t miss a stitch this time so that was good, but you didn't really like the pattern the threads were forming.

You rest your head in your hand, absentmindedly tracing your scars as you study the intricate web-like lace.

The sleep schedule you had somewhat managed to fix at Abilene’s house had slowly drifted back to the way it was before. Along with the days becoming shorter, you felt like you spent a good chunk of the night wide awake. So even though it was pretty late, you weren’t tired at all.

You guess you could start another square with a new pattern but even with your lantern, making lace in the night was a strain on your eyes.

You pull the covers sitting around you on the ground over your shoulders and rest your head on the table.

I wonder if Bruno will show….

While you stare at the lace, you somehow manage to fall asleep. You're not sure how long, but you're woken up by a knock at the door.

Knowing it's Bruno, you quickly get up to answer.

He greets you with a smile. “Did you just wake up?”

“Yea, I didn’t even feel like going to bed at all so I don’t know how that happened."

“Too bad I woke you up then.” He pulls out 3 canisters. “I brought you nectar though.”

“I don't have any to trade though? I stayed in today."

"Don't you think we are past that point in our relationship? I’m just giving it to you as a friend."

"I guess you're right. I’m so used to trading...” you trail off and take the canisters.

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"You just seem down."

You open one of the canisters to see what's inside and avoid Bruno's analyzing gaze.

"Honestly, I guess I do feel strange? I want to go back to sleep but I don’t really want to at the same time. Maybe I slept weird…"

"I know you probably don't want to hear this right now but maybe you should go out. It might make you feel better."

You shrug. Other than walking to Ilyas's and sometimes getting nectar close by, you spend most of your day inside. Maybe your body wasn’t used to being inside this much. Even during Winter you'd try to go out when you really shouldn't.

“Maybe you're right.”

"Do you want to go to the lake, obviously not near it of course."

Bruno seemed to be trying to tread carefully with you. It was appreciated but at the same time you want him to treat you like usual.

You huff out a laugh. “I know that, but sure let's go.”

You were already dressed in a sweater but invite Bruno in so you can go find a scarf.

While wrapping one around your neck you remember the moth's sweater and see no better time to give it to him.

You grab it off the chair you left it on and walk into the main room.

"Bruno, I finished your sweater!"

You hold the off white sweater out to the moth and he gently takes it from you.

"You finished it that fast?"

You nod.

The moth unfolds it and holds it out. You made it so it would be on the baggier side so he wouldn't feel constricted.

You watch as he turns it around and pulls it over his head. Once he puts his arms through the sleeves he pats down his hair.

You watch as he fiddles with the buttons on one of his sleeves until it comes off allowing his forearm to be free.

"Feels comfortable?"

He nods as he rebuttons the sleeve. "Yes, thank you! I don't even want to take off the sleeves either."

You grin, pleased that he likes it that much. "That's great! Honestly this looks quite good on you..."

"You think so?" The moth strikes a subtle pose.

"O-Obviously! Honestly I think you'd be able to pull anything off."

This gives you even more motivation to make that lacy top for him.

"Okay, let's go before I say anything else embarrassing," you say.

You both head outside, but you find yourself struggling to get off the ground. Apparently the temperature had dropped slightly too low.

"Do you need help?"

"No, no I got it."

You flap your wings a couple times hoping for the blood to finish circulating and with a little more struggling you're off the ground.

“Oh this sucks!”

You couldn’t help being jealous that Bruno could still fly so easily.

"You really don't need to push yourself."

“It's fine. I just needed to stretch out my wings. You do the vibrating thing to warm up and fly right?"

"Yeah."

"So lucky,” you say with a sigh.

"Have you ever tried doing it yourself? It'll get you in the air quicker."

"Hmmm…"

You momentarily stop flying. Clenching your fists, you tense your whole body and try to vibrate, but it’s literally impossible for you to reach the speed Bruno is capable of.

You notice Bruno is covering his mouth as he watches your sorry attempt.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"I’m sorry, the look on your face was cute."

You open your mouth but actual words struggle to come out.

"You--! Don't….Let’s just go already."

While the two of you make the flight to the lake, the moth insists on holding your hand 'just in case your wings give out'. Even though flying so close to someone can be a pain, his hand kept yours quite warm so you don't complain.

The lake feels so much different when you arrive. Without all the insects around, singing, dancing and playing, it felt somewhat lifeless. Even the lilies from before were shut.

“It’s so quiet…”

“Yea but it can be nice like this too. Sometimes I prefer it.

You both sit at the same place you did last time. Even though the rock's surface is cold, you already feel better. You had been nervous stepping out to places that weren’t busy, but with Bruno that nervousness was almost nonexistent.

You wish you had taken the time to come out more often like this with the moth, because once Winter came you wouldn’t be able to see him. You look over at Bruno. He seems lost in his own thoughts.

“Are you ready for Winter?”

He glances at you. “I suppose so…I won’t be able to visit you anymore though. It’s going to feel quieter.”

You hum in agreement. "Why does Winter have to exist? It's like Fall's terrible older sibling."

That gets a chuckle out of the moth. "That's the first time I've heard some describe the season like that."

"Well it is…"

"I guess you could say that."

Silence settles between the both of you but you move slightly in your spot from the restlessness you were beginning to feel. An idea had come into your mind and you were nervous to try it.

Holding your breath, you lean against the moth, but keep your eyes focused on the lake too afraid to make eye contact. If your time with him was going to be limited then maybe you should send even more hints.

A tense moment passes before you feel him shift against you. Your heart jumps when you feel a hand brush against your hip.

"Is this okay?" Bruno’s voice is low and it makes the action feel more intimate.

Don’t panic. This is a good thing!

“Y-Yes.”

You take a moment to calm down and continue speaking. “Is the sweater still comfortable?”

"Definitely. I think you’ll be happy to hear that I don't want to take it off.”

There was a weird sense of pride within you from getting the moth to willingly wear clothes.

"Then my work here is done. Well I'm going to make you more stuff though.”

You cross your arms and snuggle more into Bruno’s side when a particularly cool wind blows through. The moth's hold on you becomes more secure as he brings another arm to your side.

“Too cold?”

“Definitely underestimated it.”

As much as you wanted to stay in this position, you didn't want to stay out here any longer.

“Let’s go back,” you say.

Bruno gives your side a gentle squeeze before removing his arms. He helps you to your feet, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

With that you're ready to go. But when you try to take flight, you can’t, no matter how hard you try.

You look at Bruno unsure what to do.

"I can carry you, if that’s okay with you?”

You didn't exactly have another choice so you agree.

He places his arms on your back before he bends down to lift you behind your legs.

You immediately wrap your arms loosely around his neck as soon as he’s off the ground. This was the first time you had been in a situation like this before so you're kind of nervous.

The air passing by as he flys gives you chills. When you shove your face into the fur on his neck to protect your face, you feel him pull you just a little closer.

"You okay?"

"Cold!" The word comes out muffled. Your tolerance to the cold was almost nonexistent.

"Don't worry, it shouldn't be much longer."

You pull your face away just an inch to peak up at the moth “I'm not making you uncomfortable am I?”

"Of course not. We should actually do this more often."

“Flying together?” you ask confused.

"No. Me holding you."

That has you sputtering and you shove your face back in his fur.

Was that...flirting?

It couldn't be anything else but you still try to convince yourself otherwise.

You try to think of other things but just end up thinking about Winter again. Soon you wouldn't be able to spend time with him like this so casually. You wouldn't get to see him for a whole season!

You frown and your arms tighten around his neck.

When you reach back home you feel reluctant to let go of Bruno. Partially because he's so warm.

"____? We’re back.”

The moth lowers your feet to the ground so you can stand but you still hold on.

"____?"

You finally pull away and look at him.

"It’s--Don't you think It’s gonna suck not being able to see each other everyday?” Your voice wobbles. “I don’t want to wait that long...”

Your only option during Winter was to walk but you’d be dead before you even reached Bruno’s home.

It wasn't forever but if you ever messed Abilene she was a short walk away. Maybe you just weren't used to this.

“What if you forget about me?”

“You’re exaggerating. I wouldn't forget you that easily and Winter will pass before you know it.”

"You say that but you’re frowning! What...What if I stayed with you?"

Any shame you had in your body was dwindling away the longer you stayed up apparently.

"I mean...Isn't it weird that you’ve visited me so many times and I’ve never been over to your home once?"

Bruno seems surprised by your sudden suggestion but not displeased.

"I'm not against this but are you sure you’ll be comfortable staying there all Winter? You won’t be able to come back for some time."

You haven't been away from your home for that long ever, but you can’t think of any heavy cons to being away other than not getting to see Abilene.

You sigh, Winter really was cruel.

“...I’m actually already looking forward to it. The next time the temperature increases I'd better fly over there! Or you could just carry me if that doesn't happen soon enough.”

Bruno is unconvinced though. "You don't look completely sure."

"Because I don't want to be seperated from Abby for that long either..."

You look at the moth hoping for him to solve your predicament for you. "What should I do?"

"I have no problem taking you with me, even if it might upset Abilene, so I don't feel right making this decision for you."

You groan. It was definitely a commendable answer but it still left you with a tough decision. But after some pacing you come to a conclusion.

If you're struggling this hard to just stay at home then it would be best to go….Right? And Bruno wants you there too...

You nod to yourself. "I'm going. I don't want to regret staying here. Even if I have to say goodbye to Abby for some time."

"Okay. I know it's selfish of me but I was actually hoping you would still want to come."

At least someone here wasn't conflicted.

You immediately start mentally making a list of the stuff you need to take over. The biggest hill would be your necta.

“Um Bruno…”

After you explain the situation and show him how many jars you have stored up Bruno looks a bit perplexed, but you both accept that you'll have to just start moving things now. So that night Bruno takes bags of your jars home with him.

The next time you’re able to fly, you make sure to head over to Abilene's to tell them where you plan to spend the Winter.

You expect them to be disappointed, and they are, but they mostly end up teasing you.

"What if you guys are dating by the end of Winter?" they ask with a smirk.

You shake your head at the ridiculous statement, but was it really that improbable? A hopeful part of you said no. Bruno obviously didn’t mind being close to you so maybe...

Abilene touches your arm taking you out of your thoughts. “But seriously, I’m happy for you.”

“But will you be okay by yourself?"

They put their hands on their hips. "It will definitely be more quiet but I'll be okay."

You purse your lips but nod. You wish that the distance between here and Bruno’s home wasn’t so far.

"Do you have your stuff already packed?"

"Actually I kind of need your help, if that’s okay. I need to move a good chunk of my nectar over to his home and it’s a lot."

Abilene shrugs. “Yea, sure.”

"I’ll definitely make it up to you!"

"You don't need to make it up, I want you to get to spend time with your little boyfriend."

You almost deny it but know that you’d be reacting just how they want. “Whatever, let’s just go and start moving everything!"

You, Abilene, and Bruno spend the next several days making multiple trips between you and the moth’s homes. With the help of Abilene, the work doesn’t take as long and helps make up for the days you can't fly.

However with Winter getting closer and closer you decide to leave some of your stash behind. You would just have to be extra careful with how much you drink. Bruno reassures you that he has extra nectar just in case though.

You also make sure to bring all your sewing, knitting and lace equipment, AND all your blankets and pillows!

By the time you finish your last day of moving, it's already night and you and Abilene had said goodbye way before the sun set. You were already planning on making them an extra sweater for all their help. Or maybe a hat?

When you finally get to properly take in Brunos home you already feel at home. It was embedded in a tree stump. And the surrounding area had way more trees than your own home. You could tell sunlight struggled to get through even on the hottest of days.

The thing that amazes you the most is that the inside of his home is lit with multiple lanterns.

Bruno drops the last of your blankets on his bed. "Since you’re diurnal we can just switch out sleeping here--well until it gets too cold."

“Where are you going to stay then?” You had already been reluctant to take up his bedroom but he insisted. Not sleeping in a proper place would start to affect you negatively so it was probably for the best.

"There’s space in Narancia’s room."

You nod before yawning, today was a long day and you wanted to put everything away quickly so you could get into bed.

“You're still up?”

At first you think that Bruno’s talking to you but then you see he’s looking behind you. You turn and see a very young insect walk into the room from behind the wall at the entrance.

Your eyes widen slightly. You had expected to see a squishy baby caterpillar when you first met Narancia but what you see instead is a bumblebee already growing out of grub stage. He was a long way from growing out his wings though.

He wasn’t the same as Bruno?

Still you see the messy, random tufts of yellow and black fur on his small body and can't deny how adorable he is.

“I was but ____,” he says.

The youngling then runs towards you and stops in front of you shifting from foot to foot. You smile down at the energetic little bee.

“Hello, Narancia!” His energy was almost infectious.

“Hi! Papa talks 'bout you. A lot!” His small hands raise out and above him.

You grin at the slightly embarrassed look on the moth's face. He was doing his best to hide it though.

So this whole time I wasn’t the only one.

"Narancia--"

“What type of stuff does he say?”

Bruno deadpans at your interruption.

The bee tries to explain but part of it comes off unintelligible. You nod along though to the stuff you can understand like 'nice' and 'flowers'. You think you catch something about your wings too.

“Narancia, it’s bedtime,” Bruno says after his son seems to run out of words.

“Why? I’m not sleepy."

“I know, but we need to fix your sleep schedule.”

Looks like you weren’t the only one struggling to sleep at the “proper” times either.

The bee huffs. "I wanna stay here..."

Bruno holds out a hand to him, which Narancia pouts at but grabs.

“I’m going to go put Narancia back to bed and I’ll come back to help.”

“Goodnigh’,” Narancia says to you.

“Night. We can play later, okay?”

The bee nods obviously still not wanting to leave.

Once he and Narancia leave you use this chance to properly look around his room. Other than the bed and the small table next to it, there's a small dresser (where he probably kept some of the clothes he never wore) a floor length mirror, and a shelf.

This room was also lacking in lanterns compared to the others. You take notice of one of the lanterns sitting on the shelf in between some books and get the feeling the moth put them in here for you.

Other than that, the room was quite neat and the furniture looked elegant and costly. It was definitely a bedroom that said ‘Bruno Bucciarati’.

You decide that's enough investigating and go back to organizing, and soon after Bruno returns to help.

The both of you work, talking about small unimportant things but you finally ask what has been at the back of your mind since you saw Narancia.

“Um...why is Narancia living with you?”

A bee usually lives within a community of other bees of their type their whole lives--kind of like ants or wasps--so you were curious, but almost not surprised since Bruno seemed to have a penchant for gathering deviant insects.

“...I found him alone in a dead hive and I took him in.”

Bruno seemed reluctant to go into it and honestly you didn’t think it was your place to intrude, so you accept that answer with an “Oh”.

Bruno stops stacking jars in his closet to look at you. "I should have told you he was a bee sooner, yea?"

"Hmm, not really. Does it really matter?"

"...I guess you're right,” Bruno says but he doesn’t sound too sure.

Maybe some insects told him it was weird.

“Well it’s great that you found and took in Narancia. Nature isn’t exactly patient with larvae.”

The moth nods. “That’s true. The only problem is our different sleep schedules and the feeding. Well it was until you told me about how honey can be watered down."

“So you gave the honey I gave you to Narancia?”

“Well I might have eaten some too.” He smiles a bit. “But I got more ‘straight from the source’ so it’s fine. And Narancia doesn't go through the supply as quickly anymore now that it's better quality.”

You feel pleased that you had managed to help the moth, even if it was unintentional.

By the time you, Bruno, and Narancia--who wouldn’t stay in bed--finish finding spots to put all your jars, it’s well into the night.

You lay in Bruno’s bed under numerous covers and among all your pillows. It smelt faintly of flowers, ones you would usually smell on the moth. It’s almost like you're shoving your face into his fluffy fur.

For once you’re ready to go to sleep the moment you’re in bed. You shut all the other lanterns in the room but kept yours open. At this point, sleeping with it was necessary for you.

As you feel yourself drifting off, a knock on the door pulls you back.

“Come in…” you say through a yawn.

Bruno slowly opens the door and walks in.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Not this time but you tend to show up when I am.”

“Sorry, I’m not doing it on purpose I swear.” Bruno comes over to sit on the edge of the bed.

You smile at him feeling even more relaxed under your covers.

“It’s okay, seeing you is better than sleeping, “ you say through a yawn. “Thanks again for letting me say. I’m really happy I'll get to see you everyday.”

"Me too. I know I tried to act like the Winter would go by quickly but...I was actually dreading it.”

You feel relief and almost happy that Bruno felt the same way.

"Why'd you come?" you ask.

"I...I just wanted to see you."

The both of you stare at each other in the dim light for a moment, you mostly confused. Then for some reason Bruno leans over closer to you, but you don’t move away.

"Can I kiss you?"

Maybe you're too tired to overthink but you feel surprisingly calm. You don't trust your voice though so you nod instead.

When he closes the space and his lips press against yours you’re unsure if you’re dreaming or not.

You feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip and you think he'll deepen it, but his hand caresses your cheek and he pulls back.

You stare into his faintly glowing eyes as you struggle to speak. "Was...was that a goodnight kiss?"

Bruno’s finger traces your bottom lip. “Do you want it to be?”

"I um--Maybe it can be more?"

His stare feels so intense and you struggle to keep eye contact but you don't want to look away either.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), the moth presses a soft kiss to your cheek before standing up.

“Goodnight ____."

“N-Night Bruno.”

Even though your body feels warmer, you pull the covers close. The fatigue you had was practically whooshed away. So you stare wide-eyed at the lantern--the only thing keeping you company.

-----

A/N: I made art for narancia! anyways im gonna make the next 3 chapters as fluffy/domestic as i possibly can (the next updates might be a little slow tho, kind of stressed with real life stuff so please bear with me)

[adamfoolcry]

Indenial (One-Shot)

pairings: reader x flirt!Jungwoo

summary: Apparently you are dating Kim Jungwoo according to everyone but you.

genre: fluff

word count: 1,414

a/n: Hi guys! I am really new to this fic writing thingy especially readerxidol but I did write my own content back then just not a fanfic. Hope you enjoy!

"Hey! Where's your boyfriend?" Your friend asked from across the round coffee table just when you are about to sit down at the cafe's chair. Boyfriend? What is she talking about. You make a confused face. "The tall handsome guy you have brought last dinner."

"You mean Jungwoo?" You asked the same time your friend nodded her head vigorously.

"What! No, Jungwoo is not my boyfriend!" You exclaimed.

"You mean you two are just hooking up? I never pegged you for a bad girl y/n" She asked while grinning devilishly.

You are so close to pulling your hairs out of your head. ''Where are you getting this conclusions! No, I am not hooking up with him we are just friends. In capital ok?" You finished with a sigh.

"Friends? Huh then why is he so touchy with you? I swear I saw his hand pawing at the sides of your breast." She said in a accusing manner. You can feel your skin flushing because of your friend's vulgar statement.

"Whatever." You replied nonchalantly.

"This is not finished y/n. You sneaky bitch I'll let it pass for now since I have a business trip and I don't want to waste time harassing you about something so obvious." Your friend said in an exasperated tone.

After that coffee date with your friend you started lamenting about your relationship with Jungwoo. Somehow after joining an organization that volunteers to help single mothers you met Jungwoo who is also a volunteer. He made you feel welcome and comfortable which is one of the reasons you find time to do it every weekend. Then you two started meeting up for non-volunteer matters. Just hanging out then before you knew it you were each other’s’ plus one when you meet up with your respective group of friends. Sure he flirts a lot but that's just Jungwoo he even flirt with Nuns for gods sake. Yes, he enjoys skinship but you never bothered to put a meaning to it. It's just Jungwoo's thing. You were washing dishes when you felt someone snaking their hands on your waist. You shrieked and almost drop the plate you are currently scrubbing vigorously.

"How's my baby?" You turn your head around and found Jungwoo's face plastered with his most charming smile.

"Jungwoo you scared the shit out of me!" You berated him while slapping his arms wrapped at your waist. You wiggled your way out of his hold. To stand beside him. "Why are you here?" You asked while facing him.

"Why are you so cold baby? Have you forgotten we are supposed to go out with Doyoung and Jaehyun today?" Jungwoo asked reaching out to place both of his hands at your waist. Not waiting for your response. Jungwoo pulled at your hand. "Come on. You have to get ready" Leading you to your bedroom. When you reached the bedroom he pushed you to your en suite toilet and bath instructing you to take a bath. Tying the robe you stepped out onto your bedroom and saw Jungwoo with his top off. You begin to grow flustered you feel your cheeks getting red.

"Baby where is the blue polo I have left with you?" You were reeling from the fact that you have an almost naked guy in your bedroom. You gaped at him slowly turning into a tomato. Jungwoo walked towards you and wrapped his hands at your waist and pulled your hips to his. "Baby you are so cute today. You getting shy with me now huh?" He said with a lopsided smile.

You put both of your hands at his chest and pushed to put some distance between you. Having him pressed your bodies together is not helping with your erratic heartbeat and current state of muteness. "Go out Jungwoo. I am going to get dressed and your polo is still in the dryer." You pushed him out of your bedroom door and locked it. Leaning onto your bedroom door you slapped your face. Get a grip y/n you berated yourself.

You are so drunk you are seeing two Jaehyuns talking to just one Doyoung. Jaehyun's girlfriend is chatting with Jungwoo from across the table. Your head resting at Jungwoo's shoulder if it weren't for his shoulders you are sure you'd be lolling your head all over the place. His hand gripping your waist to provide more support.

"So, how long have you two been dating?" Jaehyun's girlfriend asked.

"Just 3 months shy." Jungwoo answered in a cheery tone. "We--just franndsss" You tried to answer in a slur. "Baby are you ashamed of me?" Jungwoo asked pouting at you. You lightly slapped his face a couple of times. "Stahp bein cuttee Jungwooo." Everyone at the table laughed at the exchange between you two.

"Take y/n home, Jungwoo. She might puke any minute now." Doyoung said while containing his giggles. Jungwoo then proceeded to half carry you to his car strapping you in and drove to the direction of your apartment. Your head hurts so much that you decided to just give in to sleep.

You woke up groaning and glaring at your windows the sunlight seeping into your room. Your eyes hurt and you feel like your brains turned into mush. You stood up and walk towards your kitchen to get a glass of water only to find Jungwoo cooking.

"Jungwoo" You groaned.

"Good Morning Baby. The breakfast will be ready in a minute." Jungwoo faced you and giving you his cheshire smile. You can't help but feel grateful to see his smile. The one he gives away so freely it's like a breath of fresh air both cheeky with underlying sensuality. You stood on the kitchen counter to watch him cook laying your head on your hands. He's so comfortable and looks so domestic he would be a good father to your children. What the hell! You can't be thinking of spawning with Jungwoo. You knocked your head twice on the kitchen counter.

"Food is ready." Jungwoo turned off the fire and grab a plate to transfer the food from the wok. Just as he was placing the food on the counter. You suddenly interrupted

"Hey Jungwoo what's going on?" Jungwoo looked at you confused. "What do you mean?" Jungwoo retorted.

"You know, why you are acting as if we are in a relationship." You can't look at him in the eyes so you averted your gaze at your lap fiddling with your hands.

"Aren't we dating?" Jungwoo asked in a confused voice.

"What?!" You replied quickly looking at his face his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Well you definitely said yes when I asked you to be my girlfriend."

"What! When I can't remember?"

"Remember when my dog died and you came to my apartment to comfort me."

You tried to recall that day but all you remember is 6 foot man bawling his eyes out. "Huh I thought you were just wallowing in grief and talking incoherently. You were crying so much and you almost suffocated me to death." You recalled.

"Well, did you mean it when you said yes?" Jungwoo asked his voiced toned down and small as if you already rejected him. You looked at him tall, handsome, affectionate, has a bit of OCD when it comes to household chores, emotional and clingy. Then it dawned on you your denial of your own feelings. You do like this man you promise to thank your friend when you see her again.

"Well if we have been dating for three months now why haven't I been kissed yet?" You answer with a smile. When Jungwoo heard your answer he beamed so brightly and rushed to your side cupping your face looking at you as if you are the prettiest woman in the world. You can't help but smile all the giddiness bubbling out of you.

"I may do more than kiss you baby. You know we have three months to catch up with" Jungwoo said still smiling he grab your hand and proceeded to walk to the bedroom.

"Let me take a bath first Jungwoo"

"Fine then let's take one together baby."

You are sitting at a cafe waiting for your friend. Just when you are about to call her you saw her running to get to you she sat down hurriedly across you panting.

"Well?" She lifted one eyebrow up.

"Yeah, I am dating Jungwoo." You answered with a grin.

"Told you so bitch." She smiled triumphantly.

[mercurryblack]

Chapter 6: Rudyard

Day six: the investigation fruitlessly continues.

❃❃❃

“Any luck today?” Yuen asked.

After six fruitless days of combing over Berilo’s house and garden, LLAC had once again returned to the usual meeting place. By that time, Yuen, Rudyard and Sardion were already waiting for them, and the sun was inching down past the horizon.

Lillian shook her head in disappointment. “Nothing. We searched the house from roof to basement as usual, but we didn’t find anything that wasn’t already marked or mentioned in the initial report.” She informed them.

“Yeah, same here.” Cait added. Under their breath, they grumbled; “This is so not cool at all.”

The search of the garden on the first day had been under pleasant weather, but that was the only upside that they recalled— most of that day had just consisted of crawling around underneath the plants and staring at every inch of grass and dirt for footprints. Consistently, the highlight of each passing day seemed to be their short lunch break.

Sardion sighed. “We’re in the same boat, then. Nothing turned up for us, either— I guess we’ve hit a dead end.” Yaara’s house, in comparison had been spick and span, just like how she organized it. Like Berilo’s, a blood spatter marked the area where she had died, but the house was in better shape than his— the door was still on its hinges, with no sign of lockpicking.

“So, what are we going to do next, Detective?” inquired Rudyard. Despite his annoyance at the lack of any new leads, he managed to keep his tone calm.

Yuen raised a hand to her temple, exhaling heavily. “For now, we should head back to my office. I’m sure the lot of you are hungry, I have some food stashed there. We can talk over a nice meal.” she answered.

Sardion raised an eyebrow. “You keep food in your office, too?”

“Ah, just some Dr. Piper and a few packs of Simple Wok instant noodles,” Yuen replied. “…Er, lots of Simple Wok instant noodles, to be honest.”

***

Yuen prepared some water for the instant noodles on a hot plate, as the group sat huddled in the small space.

“Sorry that this is all I have. Whenever us detectives need to stay for the night, cup ramen and soda become our nectar and ambrosia.” She said, sounding a bit embarrassed.

Rudyard laughed, giving Sardion a gentle nudge in the arm. “It’s alright, detective. Truth be told, it makes me remember when I was back in the academy. Sardion, Berilo and I used to sneak boxes of these from the cafeteria to our rooms every once in a while, so that we could have late-night snacks every time we needed to stay up to finish our written assignments.”

“Oh gods, yeah, I remember that.” Sardion said. “And you remember that time Yaara yelled at all of us because we pulled an all-nighter and made the entire room smell like broth? She said if we had just eaten enough at dinnertime like ‘normal people’, we wouldn’t be hungry and therefore wouldn’t stink up the dorm. She was right, of course, but that never stopped us from doing it again and again.” He started laughing along with Rudyard.

“Man, we should try that out, Hattie.” Cait suggested. “Knowing ol’ Branwen, there’s no way that he’ll let me off of that paper just for this assignment, so we might as well have something to eat.”

“Yeah!” Hattie agreed. “We can eat whenever we want!”

Sardion adopted a comically authoritative demeanor. “Hey, hey, bad idea. Don’t do it. And if you ignore me and get caught, don’t tell Lionheart we did it too at our time there. But, if you pull it off and don’t get caught, then you gotta tell us how you did it.”

Rudyard shook his head, grinning. “Man, we must’ve done it ‘til the day we graduated. That grouchy old lady who worked there would always wonder why some of their food was lost, but we never got the blame for it.” He clicked his fingers “Say, you remember the time Hidalgo and Gin found her stash of chocolate pudding and took as much as they could carry?”

“The Great Pudding Robbery of ‘56. How could I ever forget—?”

This time, it was Lillian’s turn to interject. “Wait, Hidalgo? As in Hidalgo Ferrante?”

Sardion turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, he was one of our pals in the academy. You know him?”

“Sort of.” Lillian replied. “I mean, I’m dating his daughter right now.” She explained, her cheeks reddening slightly.

“Wait, no kidding?” Sardion’s eyes widened. Turning to Rudyard, he mouthed ’did you know?’

“Yeah, her name’s Rosario.” Rudyard continued. “Talks about her all the time. Showed me a picture of her once, too— she’s definitely her old man’s daughter, has his eyes.”

As he spoke, Yuen sat down with them, placing the pot of now-boiling water in the middle and gesturing to the box of cup ramen. “Okay, grab whatever flavor of noodles you want. And before we continue with the nostalgia and all that, we should first discuss what we want to do next.”

“But… we still haven’t really found anything. How are we supposed to know our next move?” Amaryllis asked.

“Well, it’s not like we can just sit here until something else happens.” answered Yuen.

“Actually, they could stand to do so.” Sardion suggested, indicating LLAC with a nod of his head. “Not for long, but just half a day should suffice. We need to have clear heads, and that goes double for you, Detective— you’ve been pulling all-nighters trying to connect the dots on that corkboard. We all deserve a moment’s rest before we try facing the problem head-on.” he suggested.

Rudyard pensively nodded. “Sardion and I can carry our own independent investigations during then. We’ll try and reconvene with you in the evening, Detective, and LLAC can join us the next morning. The last couple of days have been a whirlwind, and while I’ve no intention of stopping my search for the killer, I don’t want us to burn out— or you guys, for that matter.”

After a moment’s pause, Yuen nodded in agreement. “Alright, team, you kids get tomorrow off starting at noon, and you two get the morning to make your own inroads. But when we all get back, we immediately pick up from where we left off, agreed?” She remarked.

“Agreed!” LLAC responded in unison.

***

“You know, despite all the preservatives, this stuff isn’t half bad.” Lillian said, shoveling a hunk of chicken-flavored noodles into her mouth. “I can see why people would get addicted to it.”

Yuen laughed. “What, don’t tell me you never ate this growing up? Not even once?”

Amaryllis shook her head as she followed her sister’s example, holding up a cup of beef-flavored noodles. “Aunt Izzy was always pretty strict about what we ate. Sure, we had breakfast cereal and juice and the occasional sweets, but that was pretty much it. Said that we had to follow a good diet, and that taste was one of the first things Huntresses sacrificed in the field.” She slurped some of the broth. “Hope I never have to find out what she meant by that.”

“Mmmllpphh... uhh knww whuhh duhs’ lhhk,” Cait said through a mouthful of noodles. “Than’th fuhh th’ muhhll.”

Yuen nodded. “No problem, kid. Eat up, you need it.”

“RRURRRRRP!” Their conversation was interrupted by a loud burp from Hattie. “Ah, ‘scuse me.” She said sheepishly

“Hah! I’ll have whatever she’s having!” Sardion laughed, countering her with a slightly louder belch of his own.

He barely even finished before the petite girl grinningly returned the favor with an even louder eructation.

“Are you… perhaps challenging me, Miss Lazuli?” Sardion inquired, his face turning comically stony as he repressed the urge to snicker.

Hattie smirked, holding up an unopened soda can. “Mayb—b—buUUUURRRRUUUPPPP!”

“Oh, for the love of…” Lillian groaned at the childish antics of the two. “Okay, saying it right now; I’m not being the judge this time.”

***

“Okay, you two, you know the rules. Whoever burps the longest wins, brownie points for whoever starts the loudest,” Amaryllis recited, holding up the timer on her Scroll, her finger raised just above the screen. “Ready.”

Sardion and Hattie each snapped open a can of soda, looking each other dead in the eye as they did so.

“I must let you know, Miss Lazuli, that I was the burp-off champion of Haven Academy in my time.” boasted Sardion.

“That was a long time ago, old dude. Now, it’s my time to shine.” Hattie shot back.

“Set.”

Both of them raised the metal edges of the cans to their lips, still maintaining their locked gaze.

“Last chance to back out, kiddo.” Sardion said, in a taunting voice.

Hattie didn’t reply, but narrowed her eyes and gave Sardion a thumbs-down.

“Go, Sardion.” Rudyard cheered halfheartedly yet amusedly, who sat on the couch watching the game.

“Get him, Hattie!” Cait crowed.

“Begin!”

Glup, glup, glup, glup. Both Hattie and Sardion began swigging down their cans in one long draught, their eyes beginning to water against the drink’s stinging carbonation. Within the span of a few seconds, they had poured every last drop down their throats, only for their cheeks to pouch as the carbon dioxide came rushing back up their gullets.

“Aaaaaaand… go!”

(For the reader’s own sake, this ridiculous match has been abridged by the author, who apologizes for this shameless, childish, and blatantly filler chapter. If you wish for a much funnier burping match, please follow this link.)

“And… time!” Amaryllis turned off her Scroll’s timer as Hattie and Sardion’s burps died down at the same time. “Geez! Thirteen seconds, not bad.” She remarked, swiping on her CCCT browser. “Says here that the world record’s over forty, apparently.”

“Which one had that time?” Hattie asked, wiping her chin with the crook of her elbow.

“Both of you, actually. Tie.” Amaryllis said, lifting her gaze.

Without missing a beat, Hattie grabbed another can of Dr. Piper and thrust it at Sardion. “AGAIN!”

***

While they continued with their childish contest, Cait, Lillian, and Rudyard were busy talking about some of their older missions. Cait found the pair’s recollection of the Kumoyuri assignment far more interesting than the day’s work, and found the part where Lillian had gotten dunked in mud wildly funny.

Personally, they didn’t find their extracurricular Grimm-hunting work to be as interesting, but Rudyard still politely listened nonetheless. Lillian, having been there along with Cait, only half-listened to them as she poured water into another cup of noodles.

“Oh, man. So there we were, looking right in the eye the largest Boarbatusk I’ve ever seen in my whole life. It huffed, and it puffed, it almost blew us away, but we still weren’t scared!” Cait exclaimed, gesturing with their hands to the best of their ability. “Thing is, it was pretty simple once we got down its attack pattern. Charge, turn around, charge, turn around, snort, repeat. Fourth pass around, Hattie managed to chop off its tusks with Whirligig… uh, her saw-gun thingamabob.” They continued, snapping their fingers as they tried to recall the exact name.

“Whirling Dervish.” Lillian said.

“Yeah, that, thanks Lilly.” Cait said, nodding. “Well, as I was saying, she cut off its tusks and got its face pretty good, and I shouted, ‘Guess you’re just a “Boarba” now!’” They sniggered for a moment at their own joke. “You wanna know why I called it that?”

Rudyard chuckled, bracing for the terrible pun he knew was incoming. “No, I have no earthly idea. Why?”

“Because it lost its tusks. Gettit? Boarba? No ‘tusk’? Cut its tusks off?” Cait grinned, acting as if the wordplay had been anything resembling clever.

“Oooof.” Rudyard groaned, shaking his head despite the grin on his own face. “Bad one.”

“I know, right? I should get an award for my combat banter. S’not as easy as everyone thinks it is.”

“Ignore them.” Lillian said, rolling her eyes.

Rudyard leaned back, taking a helping of his own noodles. Despite his inner tension, the pain he still had in his heart, he felt relaxed and eased by LLAC’s company. It felt nice for all of them to gather like one big family, even facing the stark reality of the next day to come. It would take far more than one good night to heal, but watching his protégé and her team… it filled him with determination.

It gave him strength and determination, seeing the new generation take the reins the old had once held. More importantly, it gave him hope.

[badwolfwrites-sometimes]

Prank War: Axis vs. Allies

The Axis trio is stranded on a deserted island again, but this time, instead of fighting them, they decide to prank the Allies. A gift for Azusicle on AO3.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24360928

They were stranded. Again. And it was the least of their troubles.

"I'm boreeed." Italy whined, rolling around in the sand with nothing but his boxers on. "Let's do something fuun."

Germany and Japan sat in the rare spots of shade that could be found on the beach, cooling themselves down and discussing escape plans. Well, they would discuss them if it weren't for the Italian. "You have an entire ocean in front of you, go for a swim or something if you're bored." Germany groaned.

"But Germaaany, I've been swimming all day. My skin would get all soggy if I swim any more." Italy complained.

"Then do something else, we're busy here." Germany sighed. "Go take a walk or something."

Italy pouted as he realized there was no way for either of them to come and play with him. He stood up and went to take the ordered walk around the island's forests.

It wasn't a long walk until Italy heard somewhat familiar voices coming from the nearby bushes. There was no way for that to be Germany and Japan, they were still by the seaside. Only when he heard a rather obnoxious laugh did he realize who it was. Panic ran through his veins all over his body, swallowing it in a matter of seconds. He pulled a white flag seemingly out of nowhere before he could hear Germany's voice loud and clear in his head. 'When you see the enemy don't panic. If possible come find me first, before doing anything you might regret.' That's right! The Allies didn't know Italy was there, but Italy knew where they were. He still had time to go get Germany and Japan.

Sneakingly, Italy made his way back to the shore where his friends were. Slowly, but surely, an idea was forming in his head. This island was in a middle of nowhere and the middle of nowhere usually meant there was no one to hear anyone's screams. Italy had a brilliant idea in his head, he just had to tell Japan and Germany.

"The Allies are here?!" Germany almost yelled in surprise as Italy nodded a couple of times.

"And they didn't notice you there, did they?" Japan asked.

"No." Italy answered. "But listen, I know a way we can get rid of them."

Germany and Japan exchanged brief glances with each other. Was this moment really happening? It feels too good to be true. "Let's hear it then." Germany said, not expecting much.

"Well, you see, when I was coming back here to warn you guys, I saw a lot of bugs wiggling around the forest and I thought why not prank the Allies away. That's better than fighting don't you think? And it doesn't even have to be just the bugs we can throw in a lot of other pranks as well." Italy fastforwarded through his idea, Japan nodding along and Germany seemed unsure about it.

"I don't know, Italy. That seems like it would fail." Germany said, brushing away the few strands of hair that had fallen out of their position due to heat.

Japan kept silent for a while, processing what Italy just suggested. "I don't know, his plan has potential, Germany-san."

"See, Japan agrees with me. Come on, Germany, let's do it! Let's do it! Let's do it!" Italy took a hold of Germany's arm, bouncing up and down.

"I still think it's a dumb idea, but fine. As long as you let me go." Germany finally agreed. Two against one wasn't a fair play.

"Yes! Let's do it!" But before Italy could sprint towards the place he found the Allies, Germany grabbed him.

"At least wait until the night falls and they are asleep, or else you'll be caught." Germany said. "For now, let's gather everything we need to prank them."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Italy said, breaking free of Germany's hold and sprinting to do his duty.

"If only he was this fast when training." Germany let out an exhausted sigh.

Finally, it was night. Italy had taken Germany and Japan to the place where he found the Allies, having previously gathered enough prank material to last them for weeks. The trio sat there, hidden by the bushes, waiting for the Allies to go to sleep.

Watching the Moon's position, Japan concluded it was around 2 in the morning when all of the Allies went to sleep. They waited for another hour, Italy swaying side to side in an attempt not to fall asleep, then they acted out their plan.

The first victim on their list was Russia. Unsure of how to prank the tall man, Japan proposed they tie the ends of his scarf with his shoelaces. Italy drew a couple of eyebrow lines on his forehead, resembling England's.

Speaking of England, they decided to throw away his tea bags, replacing them with a couple of beetles Italy hunted down. Japan wrote 'You're welcome. Love from America.' in a near perfect copy of the obnoxious guy's handwriting. Germany, meanwhile, stuck a piece of paper which said 'I wet my bed.' at the back of England's jacket.

Their next victim was poor China. Japan knew just the way to prank him, having watched Korea do this in the past. He took China's boxes, which contained the ingredients for his famous fried shrimp and rice, and switched them up. He also added a few unwelcome guests to the mix, a couple of lizards' tails and snails. To top it all off, he made sure to hide his wok away so he couldn't find it in the morning. Italy drew him the English eyebrows as well as some additional mustache.

Germany, meanwhile, chose to take care of America. Rummaging through his stuff, he found quite a few cans of burgers and some buns. With an evil smile on his face, Germany placed quite a few worms inside the burger cans. Borrowing the marker from Italy, he wrote 'Wanker.' on every American flag he could find. Lastly, he added a touch of britbrows, knowing full well America will flip the table about it when he wakes up.

Lastly on their list was France. Germany considered shaving his precious body hair off, but Italy warned him that France was a very light sleeper. A mere sound could wake him up, let alone shaving his body. Japan offered to draw the eyebrows on France, using a special method to make sure the Frenchman remained asleep. As he did that, Italy spotted a canteen next to France's side, undoubtedly filled with wine. He grabbed him and excused himself to Germany, who had just finished placing a fake magic wand next to England, and Japan. Returning a couple of minutes later with a smirk, Italy placed the canteen back to France's side. Their job here was finished, now they just had to wait until morning.

England was the first to arise in the horribly hot morning, walking from person to person in order to wake them all up. There was something strange about everyone, but he figured he was just tired from yesterday.

China got ready to making everyone a nice and satisfying breakfast, but, to his surprise, his wok was nowhere to be found. "Hey, England? Do you have any idea where my wok went?"

"None in the slightest." England answered, waking Russia up. "You can use one of the pots we have inside if you can't find it now."

China sighed, his recipe won't be the same if it isn't made in a wok, but said wok was still nowhere to be seen. "I suppose I should." He got up and pulled a pot big enough to fit for his favorite meal.

Except that the moment he went to drop in the rice, snails greeted him. China screamed. "What the Westernization are snails doing in my rice?"

His scream woke up everyone who had yet to be awakened, as well as the three people hiding in the nearby bushes. Everyone exchanged glances between each other, now noticing what was wrong with their faces.

"China, dude, when did you grow the britbrows? And mustache?" America chimed in.

"I could ask you the same thing! Why do you have those ugly lines on your forehead?" China responded.

"Now, I tried my best." Germany whispered in their hiding, covering Italy's mouth carefully to not give their position away.

"Dude, my forehead is nice. Don't insult it."

"He's right, America. You have grown some serious eyebrows overnight." Russia interrupted, attempting to stand up properly to his full height, but failed to do so. His shoelaces tied to the ends of his scarf tripped him up and he fell face first to the brown ground.

"What was that just now?" France asked.

"No idea." China answered, walking towards Russia to flip him over.

"Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Ki-" Russia kept repeating before China turned him back to his position.

"That being said, why do you all have the britbrows?" France, the sensible one, asked.

America and China looked at France, then at each other, then back at France. "I don't know how to tell you this, but you have them too." China finally said.

France's face went full on traffic lights... whatever that means. First it was bright red, then vomit yellow and, finally, frog green. He finally looked like his real self. "You're saying... my beautiful eyebrows... on which I worked so hard all my life... look like caterpillars!?"

America and China could only nod. France took it as a sign for him to faint. Just as England made his way back from his tent. "America, you wanker! What the bloody hell did you do to my tea?!" He screamed angrily, in anger.

"Dude, I didn't do anything to your tea." America raised his hands in the air as England marched towards him.

"Really? Then why is my tea box full of bugs with a note from you?!" England showed the box to America's face, the last of beetles crawling out of it.

"Those are beetles. You know, like the band from your place." America stated.

"Who?" China chimed in.

"What?" Came from England.

"Mmmmhm..." And Russia, somehow.

"Never mind." America rolled his eyes. "Point is, that wasn't me. I don't even write that nicely."

"Whatever, I'm just going to cook." China said, taking the shrimp can, but finding that it was actually full of rice and... lizard tails. The sky fell upon his eyes. His precious dish was ruined- although there was still a possibility that this new meal would taste good- ruined!

England kept pressing on the fact that America tampered with his tea, until America pointed at his forehead and demanded an explanation. Then he noticed a stick with a star poking out of England's pocket. "You cursed us all! We're all forced to look like you and you blame me for the tea!"

"What the hell are you even on about? I did nothing! You tampered with my tea!" England argued back.

"Whatever! I'm just going to eat! At least then I don't have to look at you!" America said, retreating back to his tent.

"Insufferable child!" England said, walking away for a very short distance before being grabbed by someone.

"What did you do to my flags?! And my burgers?!" America spat furiously.

"What kind of drugs did you take this morning?! I never touched your flags! They give me rashes!" England responded, equally furious.

"Well, no one else would write 'Wanker' on them because no one else uses that word! And why did you put worms in my burgers?!"

"I never wrote anything on your flags! And I never put worms anywhere, but you bloody deserve them!"

"You two, could you shut up for a minute?" France finally awakened from his hundred years nap, but without a kiss from a beautiful prince or princess or genderneutral royalty. "I need a drink from your fighting." He grabbed his canteen and took a sip. Weird taste for a wine. He spat it out, realizing what it might be. "America."

"What?" America asked.

"Come over here." America did as he was told. "Smell it."

America smelled the canteen. "Wine?"

France shook his head. "Smell again."

America smelled again, catching a scent that really should not be present in any wine ever. "Dude! That's piss! And you drank it!"

"I spat it out-"

"You drank the piss, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"You know what," China started. "I propose we all get off this island. There's too much weird things going on, we can deal with the Axis when we're as far as possible from this place."

It was a suggestion no one could refuse. They quickly gathered their stuff and helped Russia back on his feet. Just as they were ready to leave, England grabbed his jacket without realizing something was stuck to it. Everyone who walked behind him on their way to their ship had a good laugh, as did the Axis.

"You know," Germany started. "We should do this more often."

"I agree." Italy said as Japan nodded.

"Good. Now let's get off this island as well."

And they boarded the ship with the Allies, taking them all back to civilizations.

Meanwhile, back on the island, a wok was slowly being eaten by the local vegetation. Legend has it that it remained there for the rest of its metal days.

[the59er]

July 2020!

My July 2020! 😊:

1 Jul 2020 Currently Listening: My Hero - Foo Fighters

So here it begins! My attempt at documenting everyday in July to feel more fulfilled? Accomplished? Considering that I havent done anything significantly worthy for myself apart from being a good girl (I think) and staying home most of the time, but other than that, I am nothing but a kidult who wastes her time on friendship bracelets, malory towers & sims mobile.

Highlight of the day! bought a usb fan for my mac which seems to be heating up more because my room is hella hot. Ideally, my usb fan is pink, but instead it’s a white mistral, but Im fine with it because they promised me a 1 year warranty, so 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Tomorrow’s goal will be to finish all pending approvals so that I can enjoy my off day this Friday!!!! 

- - - - - 

accidentally deleted posts for 2nd - 5th July! :(

 - - - - -

6 Jul 2020 Listening: No Fun - Incubus

Mondays, amirite?

I keep on thinking if what Im doing now is the right thing to do. How would you know? I am honestly scared if Istikharah works and if it leads me to a decision that I wasn’t initially in favour for. 

- - - - - 

accidentally deleted posts of 7th - 10th July! :( 

- - - - -

11 Jul 2020 Listening: The Bucket - Kings of Leon

Spent extra on skincare at the hopes of calming my skin down even though I know for a fact that hormonal zits cannot be treated like usual :(

I love that we still need to have masks on because it’s about the only time I am confident enough with my face.

I love Gardens but it’s such a dangerous place $$$. Today Mars finally got himself new pair of running shoes. 

- - - - -

12 Jul 2020 Listening: Under the Bridge - RHCP

It’s Zimmer’s birthday!

Today I cleaned the car which resulted to heavy rain afterwards. 🙃

Also did not feel well while at Parade. It was that same feeling I had a long time ago. I was saving up on my meds because I was running out of it. But, appointment booked.

Tad upset at how cute & cheap these shoes for little girls were. 

- - - - -

13 Jul 2020 Listening: Simple Kind of Life - No Doubt

Felt unwell throughout the day and I felt bad. (When rightfully I shouldn’t.) This is one of the reasons why I do not fully enjoy food.

- - - - -

14 Jul 2020 Listening: Good Morning - GLK

Imagine being forced to do what you do NOT want to do. 

It has now become a mental game that I need to overcome. I despise certain types of food with a passion because of the effects they have given me in the past. I am aware that I keep on changing the subject. I have 3 months, but only 1 month until Im back at work so I have to make this work within the month.

I hate wheat so much I can cry. 

Also why am I heavier at the hospital? 

- - - - -

15 Jul 2020 Listening: Silver Lining - Rilo Kiley

Ridiculously happy to have found that The Brady Bunch Movie was on Netflix. I genuinely love this family especially Mike’s silly pieces of advice.

Oh and a random thing that happened yesterday was me fetching Mars from the studio he was working at before heading back to 15 where I initially only wanted to replace my license plate but instead, spent 50RM extra on a mediocre wax job.

Highly disappointed by my lack of willpower to say No. 

- - - - -

16 Jul 2020 Busy working day, because tomorrow I am on leave.

Received my new glasses. For an adult, I have a small head.

- - - - -

17 Jul 2020 Listening: Elephant Gun - Beirut

Got my braces tightened. Prior to that I spent too much at loccitane because muji did not have what I wanted (Self control went awol, as usual 🙄). And then I bought wok it for dinner, laksa/squid/mushroom & carrot/salted egg combi forever ❤️

I was also supposed to be on leave, but work spoiled the first half of my day. 

- - - - -

18 Jul 2020 Listening: Hurt Feelings - FotC

Had lunch with bubu & juls, then bubu & I continued to kakiyuki because I was suddenly craving for shaved ice,

We talked until I didn’t realise it was 530PM! Gilaaaaaa. But I still feel like there’s a lot more to talk about! 

- - - - -

19 Jul 2020 Listening: Promises, Promises - Incubus

Whatever happens, happens la eh?

Mars spent us lunch. I am a meat person and I love my meat medium. We also bought shoes for work at NB. A lot of splurging was done but no regrets for this annual affair. 2020, we turned 9.

- - - - -

20 Jul 2020 Listening: Fickle Cycle - Animal Collective

My doctors are indirectly also my therapists. The hospital feels like a safe space. Familiarity has always been comforting. I am lucky, I am grateful.

- - - - -

21 Jul 2020 Listening: Tulips - Bloc Party

As much as I like Vans & wearing mismatched socks, I wouldn’t go as far & buy these:

I wish they sell the pink/zebra ones as a pair on its own.

Also this? What a rip-off model lol. Everyone knows they can easily buy beaten up vans at quarter of this price.

ALSO WHY AM I LOOKING AT SHOES? WHEN IM SUPPOSED TO STOP BUYING THEM?????????????????????????

These two CUTE ONES are from here. Im so upset they’re not in KL :(

- - - - -

22 Jul 2020 Listening: Candy - Ash

Last night’s rain was so heavy with loud thunder and continuous lightning it’s like having strobe lights outside of your room.

- - - - -

23 Jul 2020 Listening: If You Keep Losing Sleep - Silverchair

I like cleaning the house while my folks are out. Is anyone still on twitter?

- - - - -

24 Jul 2020

Who remembers Travelers?? So much nostalgia! When I was little, I would join my Dad to watch this series. I don’t think I understood much back then but I genuinely enjoyed it!

Also because of the limited channels, my brother & I grew up consuming a LOT of Cartoon Network because that was the only cartoon channel they had on Mega TV! (the cable company before Astro!) lol they are the besttttt AND I specifically remember this one cartoon called Fantastic Max; it’s about a baby who goes to space in a rocket/spaceship shaped like a baby bottle, this was always on at about 1pm/130pm so I would watch this while eating lunch before getting ready to go to sekolah agama lol I miss being a kid.

But my favourite Cartoon Network stuff would definitely be Cow & Chicken and Ren & Stimpy! 

Man I wonder what the hosts in Travelers are doing now. I hope they are all well!

- - - - -

25 Jul 2020 Listening: Stuck on the Puzzle - Alex Turner

Always a challenge to think of what to buy Mom for her birthday. We ended up getting a pair of rose gold rings from Pandora.

Personally I love them, and I hope Mom loves them just as much 🤞 

Mars, HH & I were supposed to go to Lucky but we bailed & went straight to Safehouse instead to say hi, & for our favourite foul boy lol

It was also my first time drinking kopi from Patina. It was goooooooood.

So glad to have 4 of us in one place together again after a long while. To quote it like bands who are going on hiatus: We’re all taking time off to pursue individual projects lol. Long live Transit Mart! 

- - - - -

26 Jul 2020 Listening: The Runner - Kings of Leon

Home was a bit “Eh” so Mars suggested we go out to make myself better. We ended up eating crappy durian bingsu but rounded it up with kopi wit HH & all was well ❤️🤤🥰😊

Kairos has become one of my go-to kopi because we run our errands at the area so it’s like killing two birds with one stone kind of sitch. ✌🏼

- - - - -

27 Jul 2020 Listening: Travellin On - Norah Jones

NGL Norah Jones is my go-to, all the time. Happy, sad, whatever.

Today’s Mom’s birthday. I pray for her health everyday. I am extremely lucky & grateful. 

- - - - -

28 Jul 2020 Listening: To Forgive - Smashing Pumpkins

Aims dropped by today & gave me loadsa goodies! One of them is this phone/letter holder which she handmade herself:

It’s pink & it’s glitter and I LOVE it. 

I also ordered some coasters for Mars’ Mom:

If anyone is interested, please do hit her up on instagram!: wrapitup.kl

- - - - -

29 Jul 2020 Listening: Don’t Get Me Wrong - The Pretenders

Almost forgotten that I ordered cake from Zati who reminded me that it’s being delivered lol. Honestly the only good thing that happened today 🤤❤️

- - - - -

30 Jul 2020 Listening: I Think We’re Alone Now - Tiffany

I am very late on the Umbrella Academy train, only started watching it this year when MCO started even though several friends have been recommending it since last year 😅 I just didn’t have the time? The thing about me is I cannot watch something new while doing something else. I do not have the attention span for it. & while everyone else is on season 2, I am still crawling through season 1. (I dont binge on shows, I only watch one episode of a show per day. Again, blame the attention span.)

Today is Hari Arafah, my Mom is fasting hence I decided to order in lunch of myburgerlab’s Juicy Lucy and accidentally fell asleep right after 😴 

&& Kide’s slip ons arrived! Terrible, terrible compulsive purchase when I should’ve known better.

I really need help on this bad buying habit. I have shoes I have not even worn yet :S

- - - - -

31 Jul 2020 Listening: Loner Boogie - Boy Azooga

Selamat Hari Raya Haji! It was a rainy morning and I woke up late. We celebrated Mom’s birthday and just ate whole day. 

Mars, HH & I went out for our annual Raya kopi to make up for the missed Raya kopi (Syawal) because MCO. Lucky is a pretty place, but I did not even finish my kopi because I did not like it.

Bye July 👋 

[for-peace-war]

art by @idrawbuffgirls

This is the final part to the Great Winged One series I did.  Last night the heroes entered the mountain and after defeating the sleipnir Vanjir and the valkyrie Aesera, may have allowed an ancient evil back into the world, but... also prevented an apocalyptic joining of worlds.  It was a lot!  So again, I want to thank: @lordcaliginous, @i-am-guinevere, @scowlet, @perfectperfidy, @diermina and @that-green-nut for sticking through my attempt at pathfinder/conaning a story out of thin air.

Also thanks @mcsars for introducing me to the setting and giving such a good place to start with an AU.  So again, thanks to everyone and when I start my next series up I’ll get back to these hour writes! Cheers.

OH and @idrawbuffgirls FOR THIS ART. YOU ROCK!

THE GREAT WINGED ONE.

Follows Part I.

Follows Part II.

Follows Part III

Follows Part IV.

Follows Part V.

Follows Part VI.

Finale.

CHLORIS THE CORINTHIAN quietly collected the clothing of those convalescing within the chilled cabin.  A gentle fire warded what cold it dared from the interior, but from the shivers that ran along the men about her there was little doubt in it—the wintry frost had found its way into them, and only the strongest of those gathered would survive. That sentiment, one of strength and those that possessed it in its zenith, followed her as she moved sightlessly from one of her convalescents to the next.  How had she come to safeguard so many, she wondered, when only days before she had not been able to protect even herself?

Mindful as she was of her condition, it was the lack of her hand rather than the absence of her sight that dogged her in those waking moments.  She could still feel the phantasmal pain of the arrow piercing the white raven she had imbued with her sight—still feel that arrow lance through her eyes and cast to the ground crimson tears that she would never see. The magicks she had been expected to use were old and dark, and though her better judgment would have warned her against them, there were few things that could motivate a decision more rapidly than the ire of a Ymirish lord.  Even more so, the ire of the Jarl Grimtor, whose barbarity was second only to the delight he drew from the cries of his victims.  Sightless or not, she would never be able to forget what she had seen within captivity—she would never forget what it meant, truly, to be without power.

But sight—sight was something taken for granted.  She could hear those she tended to and through that, knew where they were. The smell of their wounds had not yet soured and so she could see those as well; she knew the number of them, had patched and bandaged them to the best of her ability.  In the absence of sight her senses had gained a preternatural edge, compensating in ways that no human would have been capable of were they not blessed by The Great Mother and the secrets that the woods whispered when frosts melted and spring’s breath was fresh within the air.  It was within the northern climes of the Pictish Wildlands, not the decaying fyli of the Karpasha Mountains, that she had learned the most important lessons of magic—true, terrifying magic.

The Pictish Wildlands were a savage wasteland to some, yet the very ground that had been seeded in the blood of generations spoke with such fervent admonishment of mankind and expectation for that which would follow, that she knew far better than to consider any part of it a waste.  The very skies above hungered there, and that hunger bred within its bowels such true and raw power that even a woman blinded such as she, could yet see the beauty manifested within the awakening might that was come of its mounting urges.  Yet for all of this, she had not been captured for her knowledge of those untamed wilds—and she had not been named for them, either.

She was but Chloris the Corinthian. And she wasn’t even from Corinthia.

Had she ever truly seen, though?  The eyes were deceptive and the faces that she had known did little to tell her of what she saw when a person was before her.  It was not until they were freed to show what was beneath the mask of their existence that the truth was known and by then, was it not always too late?  She had scars to remind her of that—upon her back, and forever straining against her heart where her trust should have been. Even before she was without sight, she realized, she was sightless. Had she ever seen anyone?  Could anyone?

A cough came from the man to her left, whose body she had found curled up beneath a tree and nearing a death that would take him from the lands of his ancestors, into the frozen hell that swirled about them.  Even had she not, with the white raven, seen their lot emerge from the snow then she still would have known he was a Zingaran: she could smell the salt of the sea in their blood and hear the crashing of waves when they breathed.  The man’s cough was stronger than it had been the day before, and promised to discharge some of that which coated his lungs and forced his ragged breathing to hasten.

“Where am I?” The man asked.  She had not expected him to awaken so suddenly.  His voice was weak, yet there was the virile lust for life within it that the swarthy men of the Zingaran coast braced life with. “You—”

“You are safe,” Chloris answered.  She felt her way from where she stood, to the table nearest them, and from there moved with a warmed cup of broth to offer him something to drink.  His breathing resounded throughout the air for her; his motions became faint lines that were traced in her mind a thousand times.  No, she could not see the dusky Zingarana, but she could feel him—she knew where he was, even if he did not.

From the opposite corner in the room, another voice rose. “Marioso, yer aliv-ed. Gods be damned, I tho’ I were due fer’a promotin’.”

“Darmino, you live?”

“Yer damn’t right I is.”

“Ah, what good news. The captain—”

“The witch’rn’t sayin’ nothin’a the cap’n.”

“The witch? Madam—”

She began to speak. “My name is—”

“It dern’t matter what she am say ‘a her name, Marioso.  She be a witch’r frost’n fell magicks, cullin’ yer ‘fore ya’ spake ill’r her dark gods.”

The man, whose name must have been Marioso, took in a quiet breath.  Chloris could feel his patience returning to him, like a hound that had been long without its master.  Once he had wrestled it into submission, she supposed, he might be free to speak more earnestly.  Until then, she remained quiet—and the other spoke in her place.

“Have you offended our hostess in some way, Darmino?”

“Gods damn’t truth ain’ done a thing t’er!” His protest caused her to wince, though she tried her best to conceal it.  Loud voices—anger, were things she had learned to avoid or endure.  Perhaps her attempt to conceal that had not been as successful as she wished though, for the man that had been harassing her—Darmino—found a somewhat softer tone.  “When I wok-ed up and she’s there with’r crow teats all in me face, I tol’t her true—‘I’ma man’a fair haired asternations, I din want any a wha’ yer offerin’,’ and she said—”

“I am shocked she said anything to you after that, you cantankerous scab. Where are your manners, Mr. Marachino?”

“Ain’ never held ‘rm.”

“Mitra be praised,” Marioso said.  At long last he seemed to remember that she was standing there, for he reached for the broth and drank of it steadily with a shaking hand. “Forgive my companion his indelicacies, madam. We are indebted to you—and men of the Cavallo repay their debts, on our captain’s honor.”

“Maybe if yer the cap’n there’s honor,” Darmino said. “If Valensi’s dead, anyroad.”

“If he has died in pursuit of—”

Chloris interjected. “ He hasn’t.”

“Hasn’t?”

“He hasn’t died.”  She drew her arm back and set the emptied cup down, then felt her way to the wall and removed the poker from it.  The fire had to be tended once more, for of the three men she had retrieved only two had awakened—and the third trembled now more than ever.  The smell of death was upon him, but she had seen it turned back before.  She had seen it turned back, many, many times before.

From both men, sounds of joined relief flooded the erstwhile tense cabin.  “Oh, what joyous news,” Marioso said. “It was a damnably bold plan he had, and when our trap failed! Oh, but we have prevailed. I—ah, my ribs.”

“You are much wounded,” Chloris said. “Please, do not move.”  She wished she had her other hand then, so that she might move her hair from her face as she tended the fire, but the stub wiped at ineffectively, and her hold on the poker felt suddenly hollowed for that reminder. Was she not much wounded?  And yet, she could not stop moving—if she did, then they were all ended that evening when the cold came and the darkness with it.

“What of the battle, then?” Marioso asked her.  She could imagine his eyes, seafoam green and sweltering with delight, cast upon a body that had been broken and beaten more times than there were days to the year.  She felt flustered by that attention, and continued to stir the fire for whatever traces of warmth it might have provided. “How did we come to be here—how did any of it come to pass?”

At that, she spoke a single word. “Treachery.”

“Madam?”

“The girl—of the Wolflands,” Chloris went on to say.  She had seen Caethe through the eyes of the white raven, and done all she might to alert her that she had.  Jarl Grimtor was no great thinker and by saying she used the snow to alert him to where she was, she also gave the girl a chance to flee—which she had. The Zingarans had done their good service, certainly, but the girl and her wolves had been considerable in setting into motion the events that followed.  Even as she thought of them, they seemed too fantastic—it all seemed too unreal.

“Caethe,” Marioso said.  “We occasioned upon her on the way up.  As I recall, the captain had a desire to see her informed of our plan to aid her, but the Stygian—Tsekani, was it? She said it would be a better ploy if she did not know. That a cornered wolf fought thrice as hard as one that knew it could escape.”

Chloris believed she concealed her revulsion at the mention of the Stygian’s tactics.  It was true, a cornered animal did fight to the end, but the Pict was a member of a pack—and the presence of her friends, she had seen, was what pressed her beyond the point others would have endured alone.  As Marioso made no mention of her response, she assumed her deception had prevailed.

Or else, the Zingaran was merely too nice to show otherwise.

Outside of the cabin, stalking about it protectively, the dire wolf that had shattered her arm so that she might slip free Jarl Grimtor’s chain, howled but once.  He had found something. Chloris had taken to calling him Vigo, and he responded kindly to it—never so much as to seem tamed but answer her if she needed him at any moment. Had the Child of Wolves known that she had not meant to harm her? Was Vigo’s presence a reminder that their shared blood mattered more than the sides they had been on in the battle?  She did not know.  But she knew that she could vividly imagine what he must have been feeling then, rushing about the snowy battlefield and consuming whatever had not yet been taken by the elements or the wild.

She could feel in her blood—the blood that had dripped down her cheeks after the white raven fell—that she was as free as he.

Marioso politely clearing his throat called her back to the present.

“You spoke of treachery, madam?”

“After the Wolfchild—Caethe—was rescued by her companions upon the winged wyvern and Vigo had pulled me to safety—”

“I’m sorry, madam.  Vigo?”

“It be thar devil wolf she is nightly fuck’t by in the shade of—”

“Mr. Marachino!”

“Well, I ain’t tellin’ a fib!”

“I am certain that whatever relationship our hostess has with this creature is a consensual endeavor in husbandry.”  As he worked through that sentence, Marioso seemed to stumble more than his companion had when he tried to stand.

Despite herself, Chloris could not but bashfully smile and blush.

“I do not couple with the wolf,” she said.

Marioso’s relief was audible. “Oh, well.  If you had—and I do not mean to imply that you had—but had that been the case, no gentleman of the sea ought inquire or conspire against you on that account, madam. I assure you—”

“Oi! ‘m well glad yer nay be our cap’n, Mariosi! Y’r talkin’ more’n a preddy har what know’t I wan’r somethin’ bad.”

“I’ll never understand your turns of phrase, Mr. Marachino.”

“Aye, well, anyroad—go back to talkin’ wi’ yer lady.”

Marioso, as if given leave to actually speak, went on. “My lady, please do continue.”

“You do not need to call me that,” Chloris said, but went on. “After we were safe, the others realized that Jarl Grimtor was injured.  Ymirish lords are not loyal—they respect strength because they fear pain. Two of them—Joratun the Mighty and Thoramun Blooddrinker, broke away from the offensive and pressed in upon Jarl Grimtor.  I believe they felt that in his weakened state they could fell him.”

Joratun, Son of Brator, had been as close to a right hand as Jarl Grimtor may have known, excepting his son—who he had, in a stroke of genius motivated by her entrapment—seen sent to the interior of Glacimar itself.  With Grimthor Jarlblood no longer at his father’s side, Joratun and Thoramun made their move—and discovered why the jarl stood where he did.

“Scurrilous dogs,” Marioso breathed under his breath.  “Have these creatures no honor?”

“Not them,” she concluded. “But another.”  At that, she was reminded of what had been lost to that point and spoke more directly.  “Jarl Grimtor struck both down, but his injuries forced him from the field.  They say that the Nordheimers were able to defeat the lone Ymirish lord, Morfund the Breaker, and that—well, the mountains now call for a new thane. They say this woman, Aesileif the Aesir, will conquer the mountain and that her brother, Torman the Vanir, who was slain in felling the Great Winged One Aesera will be the hero to ordain her ascent.”

She understood very little of how Nordheimer culture operated, though the title seemed to imply that one person would bestride both Vanaheim and Asgard, joining them together and uniting a legacy of hatred under one fist.  A hero would be needed to preside over the joining of the mountains, and if they had indeed slain a Valkyrie then a great deed had been accomplished to merit their challenge to the heavens.  It seemed that a new thane may come of the savages of the north, as dangerous a thought as that may have been.

But she also knew that so long as Jarl Grimtor lived, that title would be a meaningless one.

“I cannot believe we prevailed,” Marioso said. “I mean—I knew we would, but what luck.  What honor—oh, how can we repay you, indeed?”

He may have meant it as a general courtesy, but she took him at it.  “There is a man among the captured, Grimthor Jarlblood. He and I were as one for a time, and I would see him granted the freedom he was promised.”

She did not mean to seem desperate, but she knew her words left her with more alacrity than civility mandated.  These were not the words of Chloris of Corinthia, she knew.  They were of the woman that had bandaged that poor half-giant, and seen him back to strength countless times.  They were the words of a woman that knew what love meant, and knew that the only reason he had not died was because of it.  Not carnal love and its brutality, but something more resplendent—something that did not take, but only gave and surrendered willingly to the strength of the moment.

“I do not know what it will take to see such done, but I will give my all for that endeavor.”

“An’ me,” Darmino said. “Since yer hair too dark fer a proper thank-fuck, least I can’der is see this Grimthorn soaks’s sword back in yer. If ol’ Garibaldi don’ go dyin’ on us, I’m speakin’ fer’m too.”  The sickly man’s cough could have been an assent—or his soul leaving him.

Chloris thought to speak more of the matter, but the howl that she had heard before was joined by a sudden growling.  Outside, Vigo had found something indeed—and that something had found them. “Stay here,” she told them, and without considering how defenseless she was against the world without, she ventured into it.

The snow as cold under her bare feet and yet it did not stop her stride as she moved in the direction of Vigo’s growling.  Under it she could hear a voice calmly speaking, and for the time being preventing him from advancing from his place.  What was she doing? Why?  Even if she were to summon any spells in the cold, what chance did she have of defeating someone that she couldn’t see? And to what end?  To protect Zingaran sailors that surely were as false as everyone else? Logic, reason—sheer self-preservation told her to trust for once in something other than the good of the world, and to take back to her own path as she had denied herself for so long.

But she was not a solitary creature, she knew.

A crow would always need its murder.

She allowed her feet to see for her—to guide her, until finally she felt Vigo’s back, bristling with raised fur, against her hand.  The chilled air was heavy upon her, but she knew that she had within her enough strength to forge from the prevailing winds a blade to severe the limbs of any monster daring to challenge her friend—or those she protected under her wing.  Yet when she looked to the one that had so agitated Vigo and threatened her home, she was dumbfounded.

She could not see him—and yet she could.

For the briefest moment, a golden light illuminated the darkness that had become her world.  This man was wounded—injured in a battle she could not comprehend, and yet the force of his existence fluctuated with a radiance that faded with each palpitation.

“I do not wish to kill your companion,” the man said. “But I must go to Jokullgard.”

“He will not harm you,” she said. “If you do not harm him.”

The man was quiet. The light upon him faded further until it was but a whisper—though no longer did Vigo growl.

“I am Keleos the Kothian,” he said. “You have my word that no harm will come to you.”

For but a moment, Chloris thought of saying what she had always had—that she was Chloris the Corinthian, a scholar of ancient texts that had been abducted by Jarl Grimtor and forced into service.  There was truth in that lie—more truth, in fact, than lie.  But that which had bound her to it; that which had for so long shackled her into place, was no longer there.  She was free—as free as the savage lands from which she had come.

“I am Qali the Crow,” she said. “It is good to see you.”

[nxctiphany]

@aestuavis​ (Plotted Starter - Ayano)

     A huff spills from his lips as crimson irises dance lazily about the crisp, hand-written held carefully between his fingers - neat cursive nestled beside tiny, but easy to make out drawings made it next to impossible for him to misunderstand or get products switched up. But he’d like to think, by now, he had their weekly grocery list memorized - minus the few items here and there that Felicity liked to slip in for whatever new recipe she had pulled off of some random blog at two in the morning. Still, he supposes, Ingram has always been the ever doting one and, no matter how many centuries have past that will never change. Not to mention the fact that he’s never once complained about the task - it only makes sense for him to go shopping on the coven’s behalf when he can walk freely beneath the gentle light of the sun and the others can’t. Though, he does squint at some of the additional items that have been scribbled in at the bottom of the note, no doubt by Felicity who had managed to get it away from Ingram before it had been passed to him - what, exactly, did she need a turntable for and what did she mean by ‘only the really cute sparkly pretty extra fancy sprinkles’? Ah, oh well, he’ll figure it or text her once he’s in the store. 

     Folding the note neatly into a small square, he tucks it away into the hefty backpack he’s carrying as he walks down the sidewalk. A brisk breeze kicking up curly strands of his dark hair and licking at the hem of his loose shirt - the smell of perfume and fresh coffee tickled his sensitive nose as he walked in line with the crowd. The bathhouse had always been located in a rather populated area because it attracts tourists and, thus, it was located in a part of the city that was almost always brimming with life and packed in with various shops and bars that he was convinced never bothered to close because, even in the ungodly hours of the morning, there were always people loitering about. But he had gotten used to it by now. When he had been young, it had been overwhelming and the countless scents and noises had made him head ring, but now he found himself unintentionally eavesdropping on the various conversations unfolding around him - where to go for lunch, what park a young couple should visit next, a muffled complaint about a coworker who was always slacking off. He didn’t mean to, but it was difficult not to get caught up in the affairs of others when always found himself hanging off of the edges of their words and wanting to know if they ever did find out which coffee shop had the best buns or which park had the best view or if that coworker who always shoved his work off onto someone else ever did get fired.        

      Shaking his head, he crossed over a busy street and was just outside of the grocery store when something other than freshly bakes bread and blooming flowers tickled his nose and, on instinct, he reeled back - palm coming up to slap over his mouth. The familiar tang of copper lingered in the air - faint, but so very vivid to him. Blood. A lot of blood. Was it one of the vampires? Had someone else come to get him or had one of the younger ones somehow managed to get out? No - he would know. He had the scent of every vampire within the coven memorized without mistake. This was’t their blood nor did their scent filter in from anywhere but the bathhouse a good mile away from where he was. This blood belonged to someone else, yet it wasn’t human either. Living with vampires, he’d like to think he had gotten fairly good at identifying various types of blood from smell alone. But he didn’t know exactly what this was (it almost smelled like his own blood). He lifted his gaze away from the store windows, dancing along the cheerful faces of the people out and about - not a single person seemed concerned. So...no one knew. 

      Guilt lodged itself in his chest. If Ingram had never come out of the bathhouse - if he had never followed the scent of his mother’s blood in the air, he would have died. If he ignored it, them, would this person die? He pursued his lips - no one deserved to die. No one should have to die. And with that thought he turned away from the grocery store, errands forgotten, and took off in the direction of the scent - dodging around the much more leisurely tourists as they gawked at various buildings and stepping around frazzled employees as they tried to shove their way back to their places of wok after lunch. His feet, clumsy as if he had never properly become accustomed to his own instincts, stumbled against the pavement while he turned down a narrow alley, skidding to a halt in front of a shallow brick barrier. A few pants spilled out into the air as he stared at it for a brief moment before climbing over it and landing on the other side with gangly limbs and an ungraceful thud. 

      The moment he hits the ground, the scent of blood is so thick in the air it would have been overwhelming had he not already been so accustomed to it. Yet, despite that, the color is quick to drain from his features when he spots a young woman in the corner - back agains the wall and blood smeared along the pavement; dripping onto the ground beneath her, and painting the mundane gray of the pavement a vivid scarlet. Without hesitation, he rushes over to her, nearly tripping over himself in the process. “H-Hey, are you okay?” And then he realizes that was, probably, the worst question he could have asked before of course she’s not okay. “S-Sorry, that was a stupid question to ask,” he heaves as he catches his breath from racing over to her. “Um, I can help - I’ll help you. I mean, I’m not very good at this sort of thing, but we need to dress that wound or it’ll get really bad. I mean...it’s already pretty bad, isn’t it? I-I’m sorry, please let me help you. I don’t want you to die.” He doesn’t have the proper supplies to dress the wound here, but he he does have a first aid kit in his backpack that Ingram always made him take with him due to how often he tripped, and he’s quick to shrug his back off of his shoulders and start frantically digging through it without waiting to hear her answer. 

[niallsfoolsgold]

The Whole World

Based loosely on this prompt.

(not my gif!)

a/n: I switched it to 3rd person whilst writing so if theirs any “you”’s instead of “her”’s or “she”’s I’m really sorry 

summary: shawn is seen with his ex and you can’t help but get jealous, even though you two aren’t “official”.

warning: a bit of an argument), swearing, mentions of cheating, a little angst, fluffy ending, unedited

“Fuck,” she yelled out, tugging on the roots of her hair. Pacing around wasn’t doing her justice in calming down—and in all honesty neither was yelling out profanity that satan himself would flinch at, but it was the only thing helping her at least a little bit. Harry Potter (she wasn’t sure which one it was yet because she joined watching during an advertisement) blared loudly from the mounted tv on her apartment’s wall but she wasn’t paying any attention to it anymore. She was too upset at the one person she had let manage to push their way into her life, and perhaps even her heart.

When they first attended that stupidly loud new years eve party in Toronto, she was reluctant to even speak to him at first. He was famous, and she was anything but, which meant it was a bit intimidating. But nevertheless, she still stuck up conversation with the international pop star that had curly brown hair and some of the most beautiful eyes she had ever witnessed. As if his gorgeous looks weren’t enough to lure her in, after they both started talking, she realized his personality was just as gorgeous. It almost sickened he--how perfect he was--but in a good way. She often wondered why there weren’t more people like him in the world.

Any time they were ever in the same room together it was hard not to stare. They called each other “just friends” for almost ten months—therefore, this “relationship” thing was fairly new, but they both knew it was what they both wanted. The consistent flirting and winking from across the room was hard to contain, and every one around them knew that there was no way there wasn’t something going on between the two of them. Even a moron would be able to figure it out. She wasn’t sure how strong her feelings were for him, but they had to be decently strong for them to be as close as they were with each other.

Letting people in wasn’t a normal thing for her. She was the closed off kind—sweet and charming, easy to talk to, but she let little information out about herself. Curious but confined is how her few closest friends described it. They were right too. A messy breakup with her now ex was the cause of it all. He caused her so much emotional damage in one year in which they were together, her friends applauded her for how well she carried herself throughout it all. She was just an emotionally closed off person naturally--she had always liked keeping to herself--but that relationship made it ten times more intense. Shawn had managed to push his way through the chained up doors, and then he burned them, also setting her heart on fire with admiration for him as well.

Although now, his perfect personality and charming good looks were the last thing about him that were on her mind. Instead, she was plotting how exactly she would ignore him for the next days, weeks, months, maybe even years. What he had done this time had sent her over the damn edge and she would be pissed if she ever let it happen to herself again--especially if it was from the same guy. She knew that she should at least call him and talk before she went and assumed things—but she really didn’t want to because in her opinion, no queen should apologize for doing (almost) nothing wrong. Maybe that was the wrong mindset to have, but she didn’t really give one shit at this point. It was too late to stop being angry until he gave her an explanation as to why he was seen hanging out with his ex yet again for the fourth time this month alone. Even though he didn’t necessarily owe her one--an explanation that is--and she knew that as well, but she was ignoring a lot of things that she already knew at this point. He didn’t owe her anything, not even shit. Hell, they weren’t even technically official because neither of them had asked the other out, just admitted a mutual liking and then went on to lazily makeout in his kind sized bed for the next two hours--but she was still heartbroken. Even though she didn’t get the mental damage that she received during her last breakup and relationship, she still felt more sad than she had ever felt in her entire existence.

***

She ended up ignoring Shawn’s messages, calls, and his many, many face time calls, and there was absolutely no way he didn’t notice. She tried to do it somewhat subtly, telling him that she was busy in the mornings and tired at night--in reality, she was probably just lying in her bed and watching reruns of her favorite shows on tv. At first he figured that she was just in one of her odd moods where she wanted alone time and didn’t want to talk to anyone. It was a normal thing to happen to her, and he knew that, he was perfectly fine with it because he had been through the same thing before. But after about five days, he realized that this was not one of her “funks”--she was simply upset with him and he wanted nothing more than to figure out why. That led him to calling her close friends, but they were loyal as fuck and told him to ask her instead. Some even went as far as to hang up before he could get in another word.

Today was no excuse for the ignoring. He had tried to call her earlier, but she hit the decline button all three times before he finally gave up. He switched to texts instead, sending her about sixteen messages asking her to call him back. Of course she played coy and replied with nothing... just busy at work. The texts stopped after that and she was thankful that he was finally letting her pity herself again.

She was “busy” watching Friends--specifically the one where Monica and Chandler sneak around behind everyone else’s backs, but Rachel and Phoebe find out from Joey. It had just gotten to the scene in which Chandler declares his love for Monica. She had just reached maximum comfort. Three blankets were piled on top of her, a large bowl of popcorn was by her side along with a glass filled with sweet tea, pillows surrounding her every corner, and her fluffy white cat, Sargent Flufferton (he was named by her niece), was cuddled into her side.

“Do not listen to what Chandler is saying, Sarge,” she say to her cat. “guys don’t know shit about proclaiming their love to you like that.” Flufferton paid her no attention, but it felt nice to assume someone was listening to her when she mumbled weird things to herself. There’s a knock at her door, which she groans at because she didn’t want to leave the comfort of her white sectional, but nevertheless, she pushed herself up. “Most guys can’t even stay away from their ex like they should,” she starts mumbling again while walking towards the door, “especially when they know that their ex is only using them for publicity and attention.”

Her eyes widened substantially when she sees Shawn standing in the hallway of her apartment complex, soaked from what was most likely the rain outside. He looks at her through the curls that had fallen down on his forehead. “Why are you ignoring me?” His breathing is uneven, which means he either ran up the stairs because the elevator in the building was taking too long like it usually did, or he was pissed--maybe it was both. 

She wasn’t sure how to respond. Shawn was supposed to be in London right now, and she was almost certain that she had been living in Toronto, not London. “What the hell are you doing here? You have a show in London tomorrow, Shawn.” She speaks, finally. And although she wanted to keep being pissed at him, the of his face and him in person made it almost completely impossible. He keeps staring at her with the same look written all over his face: hurt mixed with confusion. 

“What do you mean ‘what are you doing here’? I’m trying to figure out why the fuck you haven’t had a real conversation with me in a week and a half. I’m trying to figure out why the rest of your friends won’t let me know either,” he says. He seemed a bit hostile, which she expected him to be, but it made her upset at herself that she was the cause of him getting upset, and at her nonetheless. 

She swallows, unsure of what to do next, pushing back the stray hair that has fallen in front of her face and tucking it behind her ear. She didn’t dare make eye contact with him, not now at least. She was quite certain that if she did she would break down in tears and beg for his forgiveness. And even though part of her was willing to do that, the other part of her was way too stubborn to do so. She didn’t think she would ever allow herself to do that for anyone or anything. “I’m not ignoring you,” she says quietly. She could almost feel his eyes softening on her, but she still didn’t look up. He takes half a step forward towards her reaching out as if he was going to cup her face and pull her in even more, both emotionally and physically. But instead, he drops his hand, not wanting to pass the boundaries that he knows he’s probably already passed just by showing up when he knew she was upset. 

“You can come in,” she pauses, “if you want to, that is.” She walks into her living room with him following and sits down on her couch, a frown evident on her face as she stares off into space. She tries to ignore his presence even though he’s standing directly in front of her and only three feet away. She’s doing her best not to let the water woks start flowing, cause dammit, she’s an emotional wreck of a human. She’s been ignoring this guy that she’s so into she doesn’t even know how she’s managed to not talk to him for as long as she has. It was absolute torture without the constant texting throughout the day, and the facetime calls at night that lasted until one of them fell asleep.

“Baby, could you please just tell me why you’re pissed, and then everything will be okay again?” He says, leaning down in front of her on his knees. he was trying to get eye contact with her so that he knew she was listening, but she stood up, pulling at the roots of her hair and pacing around--something she clearly did a lot when she was upset--before turning to face him again.

“I’m not pissed at you, I’m mainly just pissed at myself because I’ve been pissed at you when I shouldn’t have been,” she quietly speaks. The shaggy white rug that was placed on her fake hardwood floors suddenly became very interesting to her. She couldn’t help but stand and start pacing around her living room. “I-jus-I don’t even know, Shawn. But I feel even worse because you flew all the way back here from fucking London just because I was upset. You have a show in two days, and you came all the way back because I haven’t been talking to you for the most stupid and petty reasons.” Her voice was still as soft as silk. He knew simply from the softness that she was actually mad at herself. She was self-conscience enough as is, and the fact that she was beating herself up over being upset at him when even he knew she (probably) had every right to be upset caused him so much heartache. Tears began running down her face and that was hen Shawn knew that even though she might not want him to hold her right now, he needed to hold her right now.

He stands up and walks over to her shaking body, taking hold of her wrists and pulling her close. She let him pull her close and hold her. Even though this had been the most drama filled experience of her life--and she really hoped it’d be the only one to reach this extent--she was still so incredibly into this greek god of a guy that she had met hardly a year ago. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close, resting his head on top if hers while she calmed herself with her head tucked into his shoulder. He held her just about as tight as he ever had before. It was almost suffocating but she didn’t really care at this point. She knew he needed this, and so did she. She had missed his touch as much as he missed his. 

“It’s cause I was put with her, yeah?” he paused, waiting for her to respond, but she didn’t. “Can you please tell me if I’m right or not? If you don’t I’m gonna be confused for a really long time over this.” She laughs lightly, pulling away to get a better look at his face that she knew would carry a confused expression. He wipes her fallen tears from beneath her eyes and looks at her with seriousness.

“When you put it like that, I sound a jealous bitch,” she pauses, trying to avoid looking him in the eyes again, “which I have been. But I’m more pissed at myself because I shouldn’t be jealous. We aren’t even together, I’m just bitchy.” She had never seen his eyes hold that much confusion at one point in the year of them knowing each other.

“Woah, who said we aren’t together? I know I haven’t formally asked you out or anything but I think you should know that I very much consider us to be ‘together’. You may not have noticed this yet, but I kinda sorta like you a hell of a lot,” he tells her.

She offers an incredibly small smile, but she still has her doubts, as most people do when they see the person they like with their ex. “Why have you been with her though?” She feels small when she speaks. Her voice is quiet and soft. She really doesn’t want to make things worse than they already were. “It’s not just the times last week. It was the times last month, and the month before, and even the month before that. And on top of that, she’s this gorgeous model that I would go for in a heartbeat. She can handle the press and the fans, but I can’t. I know that it’s probably just for publicity but-”

“Honey, that is all it’s for. That’s it, that’s all it is,” he interrupts. He wipes the new tears that had fallen from her eyes and pressed a kiss to the top of her forehead. “She’s just using me and my fanbase to get more attention on her clothing line or whatever with Calvin Klein, but it’s all over with now, I promise, for good.

“Besides,” he pauses, “why would I go for her when I can fit the entire world in my hands?”

She furrows her eye rows together and quints her eyes at him like he’s insane. “What are you talking about? That’s impossible, you idiot.” He steps forward--their chests are now pressed up against one another, an amused look in his eyes while a small smile graces his lips, while she’s still holding the same confused look in her eyes and a small pout over her mouth--and he cups her face in his hands. Her face instantly heats up, her cheeks turning a darker shade of pink than they already were from the cold, and she wants nothing more than to dig a hole to hide in. He finds her absolutely adorable and wants to press kisses all over her cute face that he would stare at for hours if given the option.

She pushes his hands off her face by his wrists, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. ‘”Shut up,” she mumbles, taking his hands in her before looking at him in the eye again, “I have a reputation.”

He smiles down at her before pressing kisses against her forehead, both of her cheeks, her nose, her chin, and lastly--after she had let out a whine of complaints about wanting to kiss him--he presses a kiss against her lips. They both think a quick and unspoken “thank you” to the universe for allowing them to finally have everything solved, and to be back in each other’s arms.

[daily-tolgirl-smolbean]

January 13, 2020 (Monday)

It’s Monday again! Which means I get to see you again!

You woke up early and took a bath. You’re already prepared by 4 am to go back to Makati but your office advised you to just wfh. You also think no one will be in the office plus you’re scared of the oncoming disasted, that’s why you decided to wfh in the end. I’m glad you did. It was a very eerie day, disaster’s abound and everyone’s mildly panicking. It also made me calmer that you’d be at home with your family instead of the office where not a lot of people could be there in case anything happens. You also decided to just come back at night since you also have an apartment viewing scheduled.

I woke up to your message about that decision and another message where you asked me to call you when I wake up ‘coz you’re worried. Now. That made me worried. I dunno what you’re thinking or what’s worrying you that warrants the need for me to call you immediately. I woke up to that text at around 5 am. I set up an alarm last night ‘coz I wanted to check up on you if you’d be back to Makati. Good thing I did so I managed to call you back early on. 

So we had an early morning vid call. You explained to me your decision . You also told me why you were worried. Your reason? You were worried you won’t be beside me if the disaster happens. You were worried for me. You’re worried you won’t be able to protect me.... I was a bit taken aback. I mean, I’m a big girl, I’m pretty much prepared for things. I’ve had emergency trainings for years so at least I know I can handle the situation. But you were seriously worried I’m far away and I’m closer to the disaster happening. That made my heart melt if only you new.

We made a promise with each other. You’ll take care of me and I’ll protect you. So thank you for taking care of me and trying to protect me. I’ll be okay. What’s important is that I know you’re okay and safe. My smol bean <3

So I told you I’m okay and not to worry. You said it’s important that you know I’m safe. You also know I can take care of myself but you wanted me to be extra careful still. Then you told me the things I should do, like buy and wear mask. Not to go out without mask. Don’t go to work if it got worse ‘coz there’s earthquakes too. And I did do all these. I’m a good girl who will follow every details if it;ll calm down my smol bean. I told her the prep I made plus reassure her my office is pretty safe. So we went back to sleep.

Work’s not suspended. We’re apparently ashproof people sus. I got out and wore my mask. Things are looking the same, there’s still unrest among the Filipinos but I still managed to go to work. Less people are at work though, one of my staff even got stuck in Batangas where it’s worse. I’m the only one from my team to be in the office. So I started working early on. Smol bean woke up  again to start wfh. I went to work early today. I had to be prepared if smol bean will be back in Makati. I really wanted to see her so the earlier the better hehe. I mean, it’s not a sure thing she’d be back that night but still, I wanna be prepared.

So work day started that way. It’s so boring tho. Mondays are the laziest time for me. So I barely made a dent on my work load by lunch time. plus i just mostly kept on checking up the situation of Taal. Smol bean kept me company tho. Even sent me a vid of Snow (the doggo) booping Marble’s (catto) head where Snow’s pretty proud. Lol, that’s my dude.

By lunch, I decided to vid call her while I’m eating at the deli in our building. Just wanted to watch her work while  eat. She kept me company during that lunch. One thing about me is I always eat lunch alone. I got no friends in the office. Does that make me weird? hmmm. I guess I’m just really a weird mix of introvert and lazy. I’m lazy to make friends and get to know people again but also I’m content to be alone and make my lunch time my me time. I really enjoy just reading or playing or warching vids during lunch. This time tho, I’m really happy I got to spend it with her even just through a vid call. 

I really need to remind myself to not forget that connecting to people is also important. If it weren’t for my friends trying to drag me, I probably whould live within my own world. lol Smol bean’s the only most recent person I put an effort to get to know and put myself out there. :p

So the afternoon went like that. We kept the vid call going while we’re working. I ended up working just 1/10th of the time. Most of it? I’m staring at her. And I’m way too lazy to wok so I just asked her if we can make landian na lang hahahahahaha. And this girl likes to spoil me so she gave me some incentives for powerboost. Some really really nice incentives 😏 smol bean can really get me hot and bothered that fast lol. Also, she made me promise I’ll only be like that with her. No other crushes (except actresses and famous people ‘coz she knows I like fandoms hehe). I told her that that’s not a problem.

A little bit of background. I’m not the type of person who easily gets crush on people since I was a kid. I kept thinking about it back then. I don’t have a childhood sweetheart and all that. I basically don’t like people that much haha. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate people’s aesthetics. Like the way they carry themselves or what they’re wearing but I don’t think on things like I wanna date them or such. So if I do end up with a crush, I obsessed over them for a while..... which is what happened with smol bean. hehehe. I basically stalked her on whatever online form I can back then. mehehe

Anyways, I told her I miss her and wanted to see her if she’s going to Makati. She still can’t decide if she will up to the last minute. She’s prepping to leave when she learned that the apartment she was supposed to be view is now taken. She’s really sad and disappointed about that. I knew she wanted that, that’s the second time it happened to her. So she told me that and I don’t know how to make her feel better. It sucks. So I just told her maybe it’s not yet meant to be, she still has time on her current rental. I decided to just help her look for some listings. I’m lazy to work naman so I searched some possible choices of apartment instead.

Dude, it’s so hard to look for a decent apartment at a decent price at a decent location. Everything’s too pricey these days. If only I can stay with her, we could split the rent on a goo apartment plus I’ll be living with her. I really have to work on that. I still have a few things to work around on my current life before I can do that. I’d really love that someday for us though 🥰 So for now, I sent her some listings while she’s on the bus going to Makati.

She’s also still worrying about the air in South. Smol bean’s too stressed about a lot of things. Apartment, Taal Volcano, Work. Tired. 🥺 She even asked me if I’m sure I’d go meet her. I asked her why, is she busy? ‘Coz really, I know she’s thinking about a lot of things and I don’t  want to get in her way if she has other things to do. I understand naman. I really wanna see her but she’s my priority. We even had a bit of a misunderstanding there. She said she wanted to just rest early and work today. So I told her no worries, I’ll just see her tomorrow. But she got even more stressed, she said wanted to do everything but most of all, she wanted to see me. Apparently, I misunderstood her so she listed the things she wanted to do in order:

“Yung order ng gusto ko gawin ay 

1. Makita ka 

2. Matulog ng maaga 

3. Magwork konti 

1 yung pinakagusto ko “

So I told her yes! I wanna see her, she can work while we’re hanging out, and we’ll go home early so she can rest. (at the end of the night, we only ended up doing the first thing lol). Also, it should be noted that she told me we should also do what I want. But baby, if I’m the one we’d follow, we won’t ever go to work, we’ll just be together always and we would run away together. hahaha! So she told me she better be the responsible one so we’d follow her. hehe

I’m on my way to her na din. And she’s near her dorm. I arrived there and wait for her in the lobby. I’m really excited to see her. It’s been 4 days. I miss my smol beaaaannnn! And there she is! my cute cute cute baby! She’s wearing her star wars shirt, gray pants and black sneaks. Cool chick mode hehehe cute cute

We decided t have dinner in yellow cab. Not much people are waling around the area today. Maybe because of the Taal thing. Some people are wearing their face mask  too. So we arrived at the restaurant and she insisted she’ll pay for dinner tonight. I really didn’t argue much ‘coz I was planning a nice dinner tomorrow (which was our 1st monthsary, yay!). Waited for her and chose a seat ath the back of the restaurant with the view of the tv so I can watch the news.

She got us a large pizza and some iced tea for me. We started catching up on how’s a day even though we’ve been talking the whole day. This is how we are. It seems like we don’t ran out of things to talk about most times. It ranges from how our day went by, any random stories for the day, what our friends have been up to, games, memes, work and some of our relationshipwise things.Basucally anything and everything under the sun. 

She’s the only person I’d wanna tell everything to. My friends know I’m a good listener and doesn’t really like to share much. It probably stems from my belief that no one listens. Like genuinely listens to what I have to say. So I’ve decided on myself to be that person who would listen. Until I’ve got no will to share my thoughts. I can even last a day without talking if no one would ask me anything. I know I know, I’m a weirdo hehe. Well anyways, with smol bean, it feels like I can tell her everything and she would listen to me. She won’t set aside the things I’m saying. But I’m also worried I talk too much when I’m with her. Sometimes I think I wanted to share so much she doesn’t have space to talk anymore. I wanna hear her stories too. I wanna know what she’s thinking. I don’t wanna overshadow her. I want us to be balanced and equal. I know I’m a tol girl and that I can be a bit bossy and commanding without consciously realizing it so I’m trying to be softer. I know I’m soft but a part of me still has some rough edges I need to smoothen. I want my smol bean to feel protected but also not too feel like I’m looming over her. hehe

So back to our talks. We talked a lot tonight. Like 3 hrs worth of talking, teasing, laughing, and flirting.We talked about how everyone is, the current taal situation and how we’ll handle it, her apartment hunting, and lot more. I don’t remember much the specifics but I can remember when I’d steal kisses from her. When she’d hold my hand and smile shyly at me. When she’d laugh and look resigned on my dirty clothes and pants because i spilled my food all over me again. When she snuggled with me on our bench while chatting. She really is my home isn’t?

There’s this one serious topic tho. There’s this question burning on her mind since she woke up. So I asked her what it is. She made me promise first that I’l be honest with her. Totally honest. Like no bullshitting my way through it. I promised to tell he the truth. I told her the foundation of a relationship is honestly, love and respect. So yeah, I won’t dare lie to her. She’s still doubtful if she should ask it ‘coz tomorrow’s our monthsary and it seems out of place to ask at this moment, but I told her, she should ask things if she wants. Tell things when she wants to. And do things she wanted. No need to be too doubtful. I’ll always be there to answer, listen and do anything and everything with her.

So she did. She asked me about my ex. The day I helped my x with the flower. She asked me what’s my role in it. I told her it was only delivered to my address so she can get it from me instead of directly sending it to her office which would just create a buzz there. I only received it, gave it to x so x can give it to her boyfriend who she’s having an issue with. And that’s it. That’s my only role in the whole thing. Apparently, smol bean thought I gave x the flowers ‘coz i wanted to comfort x. I almost laughed at that. First of all, flowers are not cheap, but I do love giving it to smol bean ‘coz I like making her smile everytime she gets one from me. She’s worth it. Second of all, if I wanted to comfort x, I’ll probably just buy her a coffee and listen to her rant and cry about her bf. But anyways, that’s not my role now. It’s not my job to comfort her, she has other friends for that. My focus right now is smol bean. I promised this to her. Also, I promise I’m telling the truth. 

She believed me and hugged me. I really love her. I won’t ever dream of cheating on her or hurting her. I won’t take for granted this one in a million chance I’m given to be with someone as amazing as her.

We also talked about getting married. I don’t know why or I can’t explain why but at this point in our relationship, there a high chance we’re both sure we’d end up together. Like, we’re ready to spend a lifetime together.  I know we’re too you or it’s still too early in the relationship, but for me, this is the kind of happiness I’d want to have if I’ll continue living in this world. This is it for me. She is it for me. So I told her, someday, maybe far away in the future, same sex marriage will be allowed in the Philippines. And when that happens, I told her, the moment it was allowed, she should be ready ‘coz I’ll come running to her to pick her up and bring her to wherever I could get that marriage license and marry her. This, I promise.

So yeah, we ended up just sitting there, with my arms over her shoulders while she snuggles to me. Then she told me, “Did you notice no one’s ever sat beside the tables on both our sides?” And i laughed at that! That’s true! No one dared sit beside use, we’re apparently flirting way too much it’s like we have our own bubble around the back of the restaurant. HAHAHA. Bakit ba. There’s way too many tables around they can go to anyways. hehe i missed my smol bean and missed hanging out with her. We ended up just staying for more than three hours. But it’s getting late and she needs to sleep early. She has to be at work by 7 am. 

Not much people will be at their office and her friends would tease/scold her if they knew why she’ll be at the office tomorrow. Most of them are working from home. The reason? Me... mehehe but also, she can’t work properly at home lol So I walked her home. Just like most days, my heart feels full that moment. Such a bittersweet feeling since we’d have to be separated when we arrive. But stll, spending time with her is like recharging my being. Getting to hold her hand while silently walking through the lamp-ridden Makati night is still one of the best memories I cherish. This time, we’re wearing face masks tho haha another one for the books.

And so, we arrived at her condo, we sat at our usual stone seat while booking my ride home. Don’t wanna be separated but that’s how things are for now. can’t wait to go home with her on our own place so we won’t have to go our separate ways again. hehe. The grab car came, she walked me to the car, I hugged her and kissed her. I like getting my goodbye kiss. It’s like kissing her goodnight too. 😌 And so, I went home. We sent our usual messages of how we enjoyed our time together (sana all noh hihi).

Got home. Got ready for bed. And we’re both ready to sleep. She suddenly sent me a message saying she misses me. UwU never knew I’d find someone who’ll feel as intensely as I feel for her. I miss her too already. 🥺 Then comes the i love yous 🥺 Until I realized it’s already 12 mn. which means.......

Happy 1st Monthsary <3

We greeted each other and sent sweet messages on how we would like to spend a lifetime together. I would like to thank whoever in the universe made me find my soulmate in her. :)

---

PS: Mark my words, someday, I will marry the heck out of you. <3

[ot4-official]

Jovie Collins AU

In which Jessamine’s old friend is in town ~

“So I have a friend coming over from London this weekend.  I don’t know how long she’s staying.”  They were at the bar, each of them holding a different drink; a glass of Chardonnay for Marilyn, a tumbler of rum for Oliver, a beer for Dylan, and a glass of whiskey for Jessamine. They all looked at Jessamine suspiciously; she didn’t really have friends.

“Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re all thinking, but yes, I do have friends other than you guys. I just wanted to let you know, because I’ll probably bring her to the bar with us, and we will probably go clubbing too.”  They nodded, still in shock. Jessamine rolled her eyes, “I need another drink to deal with you all.”

It’d been years since she had seen her.  When she spotted her at the airport, she looked as beautiful as ever. She’d cut her hair, and it looked good. It was going to be difficult to keep her hands off all weekend, or however long she was staying.

“Jess!”  She ran towards Jessamine and held her arms out. She was one of the only people Jessamine would hug.  The minute that they were in each other’s arms, Jessamine was taken back to six years ago when she left.

“Jovie.”  She smelled the same: honey and vanilla.

“It’s been far too long.”  Jovie pulled back first, scanning Jessamine with her eyes, “You look good.” Jessamine blushed, she actually blushed.

“Thanks, you do too.  I like your hair.”  They smiled at each other.  It felt like this was a dream.

“Okay, well.  Let’s get your bags, and then we can go back to my apartment.  I’m sure you’re exhausted.” Jovie nodded and smiled walking next to Jessamine to go to baggage claim.  She felt 18 again next to this woman, and she didn’t know if she liked that.

“So how are you?”  What have you been up to?”  Since she left, hung in the air silently.

“Well, my paintings never really hit, but I got a job in video game design that was fun.  I worked there for a few years. I got fired though…”  Jessamine raised an eyebrow.

“Why? If you don’t mind me asking…” Jovie’s cheeks immediately filled with crimson.

“I was sleeping with my boss’s wife.”  Jessamine grinned and laughed.

“I suppose I rubbed off on you a little too much.”  Jovie just smiled and shook her head.

“Oh! There’s mine!”  It was purple with white polka dots.  Jessamine grabbed it for her. 

“Sweet, let’s get out of here. I can carry this for you.” She smiled at Jovie. Even after an eight hour flight she looked gorgeous. It was going to be a long weekend.

~

“So we can order take out or we can go out and I can show you some of the city. Anything works for me.” Jess had given her a tour of her apartment, and shown her her room.

“If you don’t mind, take out sounds great.  It was a long flight.”  Jessamine nodded and took out all the menus.

“Of course.  Here are all the places to order from. My favorite is Wok Your World.”  Jovie chuckled at that.  Jessamine missed her. She didn’t know how she had survived six years without ever talking to her. 

“Well then I will get some Pad Thai.”  Jessamine picked up her cell and called the place, pretending she didn’t have the phone number memorized. 

“Hi, can I get a plate of Pad Thai and- oh, that’s with chicken,”  Jess looked to Jovie for confirmation and she nodded, “And thennn… how about plate of spicy mooshu chicken?  Wonton soup with both of those, can I get an order of crab cakes as well?  Thank you.”  She hung up several seconds later to see Jovie’s face looking mesmerized.

“What?  Oh, did I get something wrong? I’m sorry… it’s been-” She was cut off.

“Six years. Six years and you still remember my order.”  Her voice was quiet, Jessamine didn’t know what was going to happen next.

“Well, yeah.”  Jovie practically lunged forward, her lips meeting Jessamine’s.  It was like something between them had snapped and they both couldn’t get enough of each other. Jesssamine’s hands dove under the loose graphic tee that Jovie was wearing and up her smooth torso. She stepped back and pulled her own T-shirt off, left in the lacy black bra she had happened to choose that morning.  Jovie’s eyes roamed her skin before she pulled her own shirt off; both girls’ eyes darkened with lust as their lips met again. 

“Bedroom. Now.”  They made it to the dinner table before Jovie’s leggings came off, and the stairs before Jessamine’s jeans came off.  Jovie’s underwear sported a Wonderwoman symbol, and Jessamine had to stop and laugh for a second. It was such a Jovie thing for her to have.  Her laugh quickly turned to a moan as Jovie’s hand palmed her chest.  They stumbled up the stairs before going to Jessa’s bedroom. Jessamine pinned Jovie to the bed and slid down her body.  Just then a knock sounded from downstairs.  That was fast for the delivery guys.

“Your food is way faster than back home.”  Jessamine groaned.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”  She stood up and threw on a black silk robe that fell barely below her hips.  It was more lingerie than a practical thing, but the delivery guys had seen her in worse.

“Just a minute!”  She grabbed her wallet and ran to the door, her robe tie slipping open a bit and displaying her lacy bra.  She opened the door… and it was decidedly not the delivery guy.

“Oh God.”  The conversation that had been going on died as they took in Jessamine’s disheveled state.  Dylan and Oliver’s jaws dropped open, and Marilyn’s face turned red.

“Why are you guys here?”  Dylan seemed to snap out of it at that, and he grinned, scanning her from head to toe.

“We thought your friend was coming in tonight.  We wanted to give her a proper American welcome.” Dylan leaned against the threshold of the door. Oliver blinked a few times before his cheeks started turning as red as Marilyn’s, and he avoided looking anywhere near her.

“Aww! That’s so sweet!”  Jessamine cringed at the voice behind her as she felt Jovie walk up behind her. All of her friends’ eyes grew ever wider when they realized that her friend had arrived.  Jessamine could feel her own cheeks heating, and she quickly needed them to stop.  She didn’t blush. Ever.

“Well, come in, I suppose.”  She stood to the side and opened the door wider.  They all walked in. 

“We ordered take out, but not enough for you because you guys didn’t give me any notice. At all.”  She raised her eyebrows at the three of them; at least they looked guilty.  Well, not Dylan.  Oliver’s eyes widened at something over her shoulder, and she turned to see the litter of clothes that trailed up to her bedroom, including her shirt hanging on a chair in the kitchen and her jeans by the staircase.  She groaned and rolled her eyes, quickly picking both her and Jovie’s clothes up. 

“So you are Jessamine’s friends?”  Jovie was seated on the couch, not looking the slightest bit embarrassed by their exposure. Oliver took a seat in the arm chair, and Dylan and Marilyn sat on the smaller couch. 

“I don’t know why, but we are.”  Dylan earned a smack on the back of the head from Jessamine at the comment.

“Watch it, asshole.  Jovie, these are my friends.  Oliver, Dylan, and Marilyn.  This is Jovie.”  They all smiled at each other as Jessamine took a seat by Jovie.

“So how do you two know each other?”  Dylan kicked back and put his feet up on the coffee table.

“We knew each other while I was living in London.  Get your feet off my table, you neanderthal.”  He removed his feet with a grin on his face. Jessamine hadn’t disclosed much about her past in the three years she had known them.  She felt like she was being laid bare with Jovie here.  At the briefest explanation possible for their… relationship, Jovie looked to Jessamine with a confused expression.  Jessamine just shook her head slightly and looked to Oliver, who still wouldn’t lay his eyes on her barely clothed form.  Jessamine scoffed.

“I’ll go put some clothes on. It’s not my fault we were rudely interrupted.”  She stood up and walked upstairs, Oliver’s eyes not being able to leave her toned and smooth legs.

“How long did you guys date?”  Dylan leaned closer to Jovie, his voice practically a whisper. Jovie didn’t know what Jessamine would allow to be exposed.

“Oh, we didn’t-”  At Dylan’s raised eyebrow, she sighed and caved, “Three years.”  They all looked at her with wide eyes.

“I’ve never known Jessamine to have a boyfriend-or girlfriend-since we’ve known her.  Three years??”  Jovie’s cheeks blushed as she nodded. Jessamine came back downstairs in leggings and a black sweater. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun with a few tendrils escaping and falling around her face. They all looked at her, she seemed different to them, now that they knew she was actually capable of a relationship. She paused at all of their mesmerized stares. 

“What?”  She narrowed her eyes at Jovie, wondering what she’d told them.  They were saved from answering by another knock at the door. 

“It better be the food this time.”  Indeed, as she opened the door, a small Asian boy stood there with her food.  She paid him and brought the food inside.

“Did you guys already eat?  Or did you come to my place to raid my pantry as well?”  Jovie walked to where Jessamine was unloading the food; it smelled delicious.

“Jessamine, why would we- you never have food. We ate before we came so we didn’t starve.”  Marilyn was still hesitant around Jovie; she was hesitant around any new person.  Jovie snickered at that.

“Glad to see your eating habits haven’t changed.” 

[dp-pastandpresent]

Past and Present: Chapter 19

"Let me get this straight. You've been working with the Fentons for a while now in their lab, as an intern?"

The group was still in the same room, having just listened to Sam confess about her 'internship' with the Fentons.

"Well, like I said, it's been more like cleaning up Jack's messes," Sam concluded.

"Either way, Sam, if you needed answers, there were better ways to get them." Danny had a hurt look in his now green eyes.

'Says the ghost who has been doing the same thing,' Danny found himself thinking.

"It's not like you were being much help…" Sam said under her breath.

"Again!" Sarah chimed in before a lover's quarrel could ensue.

Both teens looked at her in frustration before deciding she was probably right.

"I understand you needed answers Sammy, but I wish you had tried a different way about getting them." Her grandma continued, "Or at least told me. Ever since you started hanging out with Danny you've been so secretive."

"Grandma, since when are you so against the Fentons? You do remember that Danny is one of them?" Sam asked, somewhat confused.

"Well of course, but he's different. I know him. I never even met Jack and Maddie…"

'Wait, what? She was so close to my parents, to Jazz. What happened to make her change?'

This statement took Danny by surprise, as he had assumed that Sarah had kept her connections to his family after his death.

"You didn't?"

Sarah turned to Danny, a pained look in her eyes.

"Danny it's a long story…"

"It was after your funeral. Your parents were devastated, you had such a bright future ahead of you, and then you disappeared. I, of course, was heartbroken and didn't even want to go off to college. I spent that whole summer in the house, barely eating. Finally, my parents realized something was up and forced me out. "

Sam and Danny both sat in awe as Sarah told a story she hadn't shared in years.

"But as bad as I was Danny, Jazz was worse. Your sister adored you, and always wanted to protect you. But she couldn't this time, and it ate her up. She wouldn't leave her room for the longest time, and when she finally did, she spent hours upon hours at the library trying to find answers. When the library couldn't help, she ended up skipping town to study parapsychology in California."

"Parapsychology?" Danny asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"The study of ghosts and paranormal activity," Sarah said dryly. "Back then there were only two programs that offered it, and no one took it seriously. Everyone tried to stop her, saying it was a waste of her time and money, that she was too smart to give up being a doctor, but she wouldn't listen. You know how independent Jazz was."

With the recent surge in memories, Danny could recall several things about his older sister, and her independence was definitely one of them.

"But she ended up back here, and she started the research that led to the portal, right?" Sam asked, trying to connect the dots to a family she'd been coming to know.

"Yes, she and her new husband ended up back here after they graduated, moving into the old house and starting their research. But that was after I was already gone, so I don't know the full story," Sarah confessed.

'Gone? Sarah left town too? Why hasn't she mentioned that before?'

"Sarah, You never told me you left town? You always loved it here!" Danny exclaimed in awe as the conversation started to change directions.

"Wait, Grandma? Is that what Dad used to always talk about when he said he'd visit you and Grandpa during summers?" Sam began, recalling stories of rain forests and African safaris.

Sarah turned to Danny. "Danny, as hard as it may be to believe, I needed to get away from here for awhile. Even at community college I was still too close to all the painful memories your disappearance brought."

Sarah looked away at this, small tears forming in her eyes .

When she next looked up, it was to face Sam. "Promise me Sam, that no matter what happens you will never run from your past like I did. It's my biggest regret in life that I left instead of trying to piece together things here. "

Sam moved closer to her grandma, putting her hand on her shoulder and giving her a squeeze.

"Grandma, I promise," she whispered.

There was silence for a moment before Danny broke in.

"It doesn't make sense to me. I know I just disappeared and my sister shut you out, but you never would have left before."

"That was before. When I went to school I met Tom, and he really helped me see that staying here was doing more harm than good. That we could do more good elsewhere. So we joined the Peace Corps, traveling the world and saving lives. It felt so great, for a while."

--

Sarah rolled over in her hammock and looked out the window of their tiny shack. Another day in Peru was about to begin.

She and Tom had been stationed here for the past six months, helping the locals of their village work on revitalizing after a major hurricane.

She had loved it at first, the same way she had all of their other missions. But the novelty was starting to wear thin, as thoughts of home and family weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Getting up to prepare for the day, she found herself brushing her long black hair in the mirror and thinking more and more about home.

'Can I really keep doing this? Running from my past? Shutting out my family the way my parents did to me?'

She looked over at Tom as he rolled over and stood up from his hammock, his scraggly beard a mess this morning. Rubbing his eyes, he looked at her and saw the frown on her face.

"Sarah, what is it this time?" he yawned, as he came closer.

"Tom, don't start with me. I'm not in much of a mood today."

"It's just, honey, you've been distant. I thought doing all this was supposed to help."

"And it did… for a while. But lately I've been missing home. My family. My son," she confessed, raising her hands to emphasize.

"Sarah, we talked about this when we decided to have him. Warren doesn't need to be globe-hopping with us. He's safer back in America at school, and when our mission is up, we'll go back and be a family."

"Which mission, Tom? This mission?" She waved her hands, emphasizing the area they were in, "Or the global one? Because every time one ends you sign us up for another!"

"Sarah, baby, you know how much I love doing good, helping people, traveling. It's been my dream since I was a kid!"

"And then you met me, a poor depressed loner and figured it'd be a good excuse!?"

Her blood was boiling now, as all the emotions she had been keeping inside as of late finally came to the surface.

Now Tom was frowning too."Remember how long we dated before you would even TELL ME why you were so guarded? Not once during that time did I ever think of you as an excuse to get away from town."

She had to admit he was right on that one, for during those first few months he had stood by and let her hide the truth without question.

Bringing her voice back to a normal level she began again. "It's just been on my mind a lot, how much I HATED it when my parents went away on business. We were never close, and now I'm doing the same thing to my own son. What kind of example is that?"

"Sarah, please, just listen to me. Going back there, to Amity Park, isn't going to help you. All your friends shut you out after…"

"Don't say it, I can't think about that right now." She quickly turned as the memories began to flood back.

"And that is exactly why you can't go back there!" Tom almost yelled in frustration.

"Who are you to say what I can and cannot do? We're not even married!"

Despite everything, including their son, Sarah and Tom had never taken the time to have an actual marriage ceremony. And the more she thought about it, Sarah was glad they hadn't.

'Who are you and what have you done with the man I love?'

They had been in love when they made the decision to take off and travel, or so she had thought. But now, twenty-five years later, the love was wearing as thin as her patience.

"I just can't do this anymore. I need to be somewhere stable. With running water and air conditioning. With Warren."

At this point Sarah had made up her mind and knew what she needed to do. Grabbing her suitcase and throwing a few things back into it, she stomped out the door, leaving Tom standing there, staring at the doorway.

"We can't just leave! We have a job to do here!"

"Who said anything about we?" she called as she stomped off. "I'm going alone. I'll send for the rest of my things soon."

With that she ventured off to the street, determined to make things right.

--

"It was after that that I moved back to Amity, moved in with Warren. He was so happy to see me, but so distant for the longest time. After all, he had grown up with barely a family, and now here I was living upstairs."

The strain in Sarah's voice became worse with each word.

"So that's why I never met Grandpa." Sam said, a bit of shock in her voice.

"He was a great man Sammy, don't let me tell you otherwise. But in the end, I needed to be here."

"Grandma, I… I knew Grandpa left, but you never told me all this… I wish I had known," Sam said, squeezing her grandma's shoulder.

" I didn't want to bother you with the pains of my past," Sarah said, laughing at herself for the irony they now faced.

"But that doesn't make sense," Danny interrupted. "You could have gotten in touch with Jazz when you returned, or my parents."

"I wanted to Danny, but they were gone. Your parents had died long before, and Jazz kept to her lab 24/7. No one ever saw her or her husband except when he took little Jack to school."

Sarah looked at Danny again, sincere remorse in her expression.

"Despite my return and the ease I finally felt about being back in town, I could never bring myself to approach Jazz. We had both changed so much and both gone our separate ways. I didn't need the burden of her and her research bringing me back down again. So I stayed away, never even explaining to Warren the true reason I left in the first place."

"And then one morning I woke up, turned on the news, and found out about her death. Apparently the amount of chemicals and radiation from all her research had gotten the best of her and she died younger than she should have. If I had known she was in the hospital, I would have visited, tried to fix the past. But it was too late."

"It was never too late Sarah. You should have tried to reach her the second you got back, or even before that. You said you never stopped caring, loving, but it sounds like all you did was run. You don't run from the ones you love. You help them."

Danny didn't know where this anger was coming from – he never expected to find himself mad at her. But something about this whole story just seemed off for Sarah.

'She leaves town, completely vanishes for a while, and then returns without even trying to reconnect? How could she?'

Almost as if knowing what Danny was thinking, Sarah let out a sigh.

"Danny, I know you are angry, and you have a right to be. It wasn't like me to just run from my family and friends like that. But you have to understand the circumstances. You were gone, Jazz was a mess, my parents didn't care. Tom did. He took me in and helped me, and even though we separated, I don't regret leaving town when I did. I needed to get away. Clear my head. And I did, and it helped."

Danny could tell Sarah was done with her story and was going to hold to it. Another thing from the past that he was remembering: her stubbornness.

--

Sam had been sitting on the sidelines for most of this story, trying to comprehend it all, and was still not sure if she understood. But there was one thing she did understand, and that was her Grandma's need to escape. After all, she held felt the exact same way recently, although the methods she had taken to escape were much worse.

But escape is escape, and sometimes we all just need to leave the world we know.'

"Grandma, don't listen to Danny. You did what you needed to do. You escaped, found a new home for a while, cleared your head…. But in the end you came back, and that's what matters."

Sam leaned over and squeezed her grandmother's hand, looking her straight in the eyes as a sign of support.

"Thank you sweetie, I knew I could count on you to understand," Sarah replied quietly.

'What would we do without each other?'

Finally breaking away, Sam pulled back a bit.

"But we do still need to talk to the Fentons. They have the answers we need to figure out what's happening to Danny. Why he's here and why he's changing."

Sarah sighed and turned to the boy next to her, his green eyes shining below a mop of black hair.

He looked back, unable to come up with anything more to say in regards to her story, and nodded.

"Well, I guess it's time I met my nephew."

[thorongil82]

Silver Rings for a Web of Love - Chapter 2

Can also be read on AO3 here:

Chapter Summary: How to ask out your crush who doesn't trust you while keeping your superhero identity a secret.

Chapter: 2/?

Words: 8422 of 12023 total

A/N: Hi. Sorry for the delay. Just quickly, yes, I’ve seen Endgame. There will be no spoilers in this chapter, and I’m not sure how much I’ll use of it. Mainly, I’m still going to stick to my original idea. Onwards!

                                            Chapter 2 - What to Say?

Song of the Chapter: Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

“You are my paradise and I would happily get stranded on you for a lifetime."

~ Unknown

“Peter!” Aunt May cheerfully greets as she opens the apartment door up to her nephew, quickly enveloping the spiderling in a big hug.

“Sorry I'm so late,” Peter apologises as he wraps his arms around his aunt.

“Aw, nonsense,” May says as she waves him off, untangling her arms from his. “Tony let me know beforehand. Not that I think he should've taken away from our time together, but that's just how these things work out.”

May steps aside, her long auburn hair sweeping around behind her back as she lets Peter walk into the apartment. Over the years, more pictures of Peter seemed to take up the free space around the rooms. Whether it be along the walls or lining the drawers, more and more memories seemed to envelope the space the Parker's lived in. And, since the younger Parker has left to live in his own apartment with Ned, the number only seems to have grown exponentially, along with the pictures of her and Uncle Ben.

Apart from the great increase of family photos, everything appeared to be relatively the same as Peter stepped through the door. The layout still remained the same, no matter that the number of inhabitants had downgraded from two to one. From within the kitchen, the sizzling sounds of food frying over the stove-top hisses away with the slight flicks of smoke wafting over, while sitting on one side of the dining room table is Ned with his head face down in a laptop, only glancing up slightly to see his best friend walk through the door.

"So, you've already ordered Thai?" Peter jokes with a grin, only to receive a firm smack on the arm from his Aunt as she walks by. "Hey!"

"Don't 'Hey!' me, I'm still trying here," May defends as she moves into the kitchen.

“Hey, dude,” he greets, holding up his fist over the screen.

“Hey, Ned,” Peter replies, walking over and doing their special handshake. “What are you doing? I thought you finished your exams today.”

“Yeah, I did. I'm just helping Betty out with her assessment,” he answers with a giant beaming smile. “She was panicking about how she couldn't get what was wrong with it and that this was going to cost her everything, so I offered to have a look over it for her.”

“Isn't that a little counter-productive?” Peter questions as he slings the backpack he had been carrying all day off his shoulders and onto the floor.

“Not really,” Ned replies as his eyes drift back down to the screen. “A lot of people will get others to check their work for errors before it gets submitted, and that's mainly for jobs.”

“Doesn't that kinda depend on the work?” Peter inquires as he slides into the chair opposite his best friend.

“Not necessarily,” Ned responds. “Besides, I'm only really checking for spelling, grammar and punctuation. I'm not changing any facts or anything like that.”

“Wasn't Betty the one that was stronger in English?”

“Apparently it helps to have someone else read it,” Ned shrugs. “Something about it being a lot easier to spot someone else's mistakes than your own.”

“Still seems a little detrimental to me.”

“You do it for others at Stark Industries,” Ned retorts, not even looking up from his laptop.

“And wasn't that what you both did with Michelle for your college applications?” May adds from back within the kitchen.

“Okay, okay,” Peter surrenders, bringing his hands up as he slips his backpack off his shoulder and slides into the dining table chair opposite Ned. “I just think that it's a bit different. Exams and assessments are supposed to be about what you can do.”

“So, what did you and Stark do?” Ned questions, excited eyes flickering up from the laptop screen.

No matter how long Peter had been running around as Spider-Man, Ned always seemed just as excited about the prospect of his best friend having adventures with other superheroes. Perhaps getting even more excited over time.

“Not too much. Just helped with a new Iron Man suit design,” Peter explains. “Figuring out some of the adjustments and calibrations that would be needed to get it working the way Mr. Stark would like it to.”

The young Parker leans forward in his chair as a stupidly broad grin explodes across his face.

“Mr. Stark really wants to try and get one up on Shuri. He's trying to compress the nanites further so that he can fit more of them into his chest-piece. We're also going to make them move and react faster than ever. Mr. Stark's also planning to improve on the energy absorption system. He wants to not only absorb the kinetic energy of an impact, but also transfer it throughout the suit so that it can be released in different ways. Not just having it all explode around him, but also focusing it out into a directed blast.”

“But not just that!” Peter exclaims as the chair beneath him slides away across the apartment floor, pushed out as the spiderling leaps to his feet. “We're also looking at transforming the energy between states, so he can feed the harnessed energy into his power conduits, or use it for his repulsors, or thrusters, or any of his equipment! Obviously that part is the most complex. But if we can manage to make it work … I'm telling you, man. It's going to be so cool!”

“Awesome! When do we get to see it in action?” Ned asks as he leans forward, fully facing Peter as the laptop and Betty's assessment are completely forgotten.

“Uh … I dunno,” Peter admits, his face dropping slightly. “It depends. I mean, it's not necessarily going to work straight away. There will more than likely be some trial and error involved. Plus, it's not like it's going to be produced quickly. These things can take time.”

“I think it would be unlikely that Tony Stark would just wear it out right away anyway,” May adds in from the kitchen. “And hopefully we don't need him wearing it any time soon. I don't know about you both, but I've had enough alien attacks for quite a while.”

“Alien attacks are awesome!” Ned rebuts loudly, nearly jumping out of his chair. “You never know what new technology they'll bring in!”

“Yeah, and besides, it's not like it'd be the strangest thing Mr. Stark's ever done to just wear a suit for the sake of it,” Peter tags on, nodding his head.

“Still,” May seemingly grumbles as she shuffles from the sizzling wok to the bubbling saucepan, “I would be fine with another end of the world event not appearing for more than a few years. If not for my heart's sake.”

“Why's that?” both Peter and Ned question as they tilt their heads towards the older Parker with furrowed brows.

“Why do you think?!” May asserts strongly as she spins around, brandishing a wooden spoon at the pair. “My nephew goes gallivanting off in a skin-tight outfit at the first sign of danger! Maybe I'd like for him to be safe for more than a passing day or two!”

“Oh … uh, right,” Ned mumbles as he sheepishly turns his gaze back to the laptop screen he had momentarily forgotten about, while Peter slouches over and guiltily stares at the wooden tabletop, his face burning slightly at his Aunt's assertive tone.

It hadn't been a good start when May accidentally found out about Peter being Spider-Man. At first, after seeing him drag the mask off his head the day he turned down Mr. Stark's offer – and subsequentially passed the 'test' – she had been furious. Peter had never seen his aunt so enraged. He swears on his life that she could have even faced down Hulk in her state and the humongous muscular being would have backed down. He was forced to sit on the couch as she vehemently shrieked, yelled and teared up over how “stupidly reckless” he had been, by both sneaking around in his vigilante persona and hiding everything from her. He had thought it was bad enough, until Mr. Stark was then rung up and brought over, both teenage nephew and billionaire hero incurring her wrath. The eventual compromise, to which Peter could keep being Spider-Man while May could have some peace of mind, was an imposed curfew where there was no patrolling allowed while he should be at school, if he had homework, after 10 PM on a school night and after 11 PM if there wasn't any school the next day. He also had to answer every call and reply to every text message that she sent while he was zipping through the skyline, while also letting her know when he would be back, and she was to receive a full medical report if he ever got injured and needed to be treated at the compound upstate.

Over time that rage had diminished, far quicker than Peter had expected it to, until May seemed to have accepted that Peter could handle himself safely and responsibly – what wasn't reported on the news stations wouldn't hurt her – and the curfews all but disappeared. It had gotten so much better to the point that she was far more relaxed and happy with his heroics, despite her worries, and would even suggest for Spider-Man to come and offer his support to groups that she was helping with. This also included possibly joining in with a homeless shelter program that she had been planning on creating for a while. When Thanos and his alien friends attacked, Peter almost expected the curfews to return once he had finally been saved and flown back home, but instead May was so relieved that she hadn't truly lost another loved family member that she just wanted to make sure he was safe, sound, and enjoying life. And with her homeless shelter, now called F.E.A.S.T., taking off in the months of despair and confusion after The Decimation, both Peter and Spider-Man set to work helping draw publicity to the noble foundation, while Peter looked to aid May with taking care of the people who came.

Even so, despite her gradually growing optimism of Peter's superhero persona and actions, May would still grip onto an understandable fear that his selfless nature and desire to help, both she knew were very admirable traits, would someday result with her sweet nephew ending up like the loving uncle that had raised him to embrace those attributes. And occasionally it would bubble to the surface. Just like now.

The apartment falls quiet after May's short outburst, split only by the occasional click of keys pressed on Ned's keyboard and the sizzling of the stove top, before being broken as Ned glances up and meekly asks, “Are you going to get the same upgrades?”

“Maybe,” Peter answers, not entirely sure himself. “I might just get some of them. If any, probably the faster nanites.”

“And why did he ask you to go today? Don't you normally go tomorrow?”

“He's flying out tomorrow with Ms. Potts to spend some time away before the wedding.”

“Do you know where they're going?” May asks from the kitchen, having turned back to the wok.

“Well …” Peter drawls as he fishes through his backpack before pulling out the envelope. He opens it up and pulls out one of the boarding passes. “Looks like they're going to New Zealand.”

“Dude, did you steal Mr. Stark's pass?!” Ned exclaims, as the clattering sound of wood against metal comes from the kitchen, followed shortly afterwards by wood hitting the wooden floor.

“What?! N-No!” Peter abruptly leans back at Ned's exclamation. He watches May reach down and pick her wooden spoon off the floor before tossing it into the sink, her eyes looking at her nephew. “I was invited to the wedding. And to the celebrations beforehand.”

“Holy shit …” Ned gasps, his eyes going as wide as dinner plates.

“Honey, that's incredible!” May squeals as she moves round the kitchen bench and over to Peter, hugging him from behind and giving him a light kiss on the forehead.

“I still can't believe I was invited,” the spiderling admits as he shrinks into himself.

“The wedding's in a fortnight, right?” Ned asks, answered by a short nod from Peter. “So when are you flying out?”

“This Saturday.”

“Why that early?” May inquires, leaning back from her nephew.

“Well, Mr. Stark said that they wanted to spend some time just relaxing with the other Avengers before the wedding,” Peter explains as he fidgets with the envelope. “Take a break from superheroing.”

“Well, you look like you could do with the rest,” May says, her hand ruffling through her nephew's hair. “Do you mind if I see the invitation?”

“Yeah,” the young Parker shrugs as he searches through the envelope before pulling out an invite, also inadvertently dragging the other invite out with it. Peter separates the two beautifully decorated cards and hands one to his aunt, who glances at the other as she takes it before reading the information.

“Why do you have two?” she inquires, her eyes darting over the words.

“Uh, because I'm allowed to bring a guest,” Peter slowly answers. “I'd have asked either of you, but I know you're both busy.”

“Aw, man!” Ned moans, burying his face in his hands. “I almost wish I wasn't going to visit family. I'd have loved to go!”

“Ned! Don't you dare think about ditching your family, or poor Betty,” May scolds, fixing Ned with a glare.

“So, who're you asking, then?” Ned perks up again, his excitable state instantly replacing his short regrets.

“No one, probably,” Peter quietly answers.

“Why not?” May questions.

“Well, who else besides you two would make sense? No one else knows about me being Spider-Man. And besides, it's not like they'll keep it under wraps that well.”

“Just because you can't keep a secret doesn't mean other superheroes can't,” May reminds him as she hands him back the invitation.

“W-What?! I can keep a secret.”

“Please, Peter, you could barely keep your alter ego a secret,” she responds with a wave of her hand.

“Hey, barely anyone knows that I'm Spider-Man,” Peter retorts as he slides the invitation back into the envelope.

“And how many people have you told?” Ned asks with a raised eyebrow.

“N-No one,” Peter mumbles.

“Exactly,” his best friend nods, accepting the high five from a grinning May as she takes the scenic route round the table to get back into the kitchen.

“... Shut up,” Peter pouts, trying to fix them both with as intimidating a glare as he can – which is not very scary.

The apartment falls quiet once again save for the sizzling sounds in the kitchen and the occasional clicking of Ned's keyboard. Outside, Peter can hear the general hustle and bustle of Queens life in the early evening, along with the shouted voices from a flat downstairs that may require a visit from a man dressed in red and blue if it keeps up, and the muffled sounds of the TV a couple of doors over and across the hall that belongs to a particularly nice old lady named Mrs. Thompson who May has enjoyed tea with for the past ten years, before focusing in on a set of footsteps clunking heavily along the corridor until they come to a stop in front of May's door.

“Peter, can you get that please?” May calls out from the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure.”

Peter leaps up out of his chair and deftly springs across to the door. Opening up, his eyes widen as they fall upon a taller woman who's bushy brown hair is pulled back into a bun save for a couple of curly bangs that delicately fall down the side of her face, wearing a zipped up grey hoodie, a pair of torn and faded denim jeans, and bulky combat boots covering her feet.

“M-Michelle?!”

“Weren't expecting me, loser?”

“No, n-not really …” he admits. After a tentative gulp his lips part again, only to flounder as the vast number words he possesses in his vocabulary suddenly go on strike and refuse to work in any form – nary a gargle, whisper or squeak, and his brain enters a state of shock that lasts until she clears her throat.

“So … are you going to let me in?”

“Huh? O-Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” he manages to utter as he steps aside to let her in.

As soon as she manages to step past the threshold of the apartment an auburn blur rushes out of the kitchen in a speed that the younger Parker has barely witnessed before.

“Michelle!” May greets with a beaming smile, sweeping MJ up in a hug that stiffens her up. “How are you sweetie?!”

“I'm good,” Michelle replies softly with a smile Peter cannot see as she melts into the arms of Aunt May, hugging her back and resting her head on her shoulder. Peter knows that no one can resist the warmth of his aunt - not even the almighty Michelle Jones.

Peter gently closes the door shut and shoots a questioning look at May, who simply responds by maintaining her loving smile and raising her eyebrows back at him.

“Sorry I'm late,” MJ says as she breaks the hold.

“No, you're right on time,” May replies, dismissing her apology with a wave of her hand. “Dinner should be just about ready.”

“So we've already ordered Thai?” Michelle jokes, getting a laugh from May as she walks back into the kitchen.

“Wait, why do I get hit for saying that and she doesn't?” Peter questions.

“Simple: you're a loser, and I'm me,” MJ speaks up as she sits down at the table in the spare chair beside Ned before turning to her table neighbour. “Hey, loser number two.”

“Hey,” Ned absentmindedly greets as he continues looking over Betty's project. “Hang on, I'm number two?”

“Congratulations, you can hear clearly.”

“Why am I number two?” he asks in confusion.

“I wouldn't argue. You don't want to be number one,” she states, gesturing to Peter who shares Ned's muddled expression

“Uh, thanks?” Peter replies uncertainly.

“It's not a compliment.”

“Thanks,” he repeats far more bluntly than the first as his shoulders sag.

“Peter, can you give me a hand?” May asks from the kitchen.

“Sure thing.”

Peter heads into the kitchen and, seeing May gesture to the cupboards and drawers with the end of the wooden spoon, starts to pull out bowls and cutlery for everyone.

“Why didn't you say she was coming?” he whispers.

“I forgot,” she whispers back, her small smirk giving away her lie. Peter just stands there mid-reach for a bowl, glaring at her until she sighs and amends, “Okay, I didn't want to make you nervous.”

“Nervous doesn't cover it.”

“Don't tell me you've made it worse again?”

“No!” Peter hisses sharply before covering his mouth. At a quick glance over the counter and seeing that Ned and Michelle didn't hear his outburst, or at least aren't responding to it, he continues on. “At least, I don't think I have … I had only just started making some sense of her before Mysterio. Now I'm back to square one.”

“It'll be fine, sweetie. If she hated you, she wouldn't be here.”

“She would. She just wouldn't be talking to me.”

“There, you've still got something figured out.”

“ … Doesn't that applied to everyone?”

“Ok, you've still got a lot to learn,” May admits with a sigh.

“Too much,” he agrees with a nod.

“Hey, why don't you ask her to Stark's wedding?” she whispers, her eyes brightening while his widens at her question before narrowing to a squint.

“Mr. Stark put you up to this, didn't he? Is that why you invited Michelle?”

“What? No! I'd already invited MJ before he called me about you. Why? What did he say?”

“He thinks I should invite her,” he mumbles.

“You should,” May agrees, holding out a hand. “Bowl.”

“I can't,” Peter opposes as he hands her a bowl, which she starts scooping rice into out of the saucepan.

“Why not?”

“How would I explain everything?” Peter asks as May moves on to adding the fried vegetables in. “She doesn't know that I'm Spider-Man.”

“You haven't told her,” May points out as she hands him the meal and gestures for another bowl. “And that hasn't stopped anyone finding out yet.”

“Still-”

“I think it's a good idea,” May presses on, filling up the second bowl and handing it to Peter. “It'll help you both get closer again.”

As she glances back at Peter after he hands her the third bowl, she notices the calculating expression of his as he stares off at a randomly chosen point in the floorboards, lost deep in thought.

“I know that look, you're overthinking again.”

“Am not,” he replies, snapping his attention back to May.

“It's not like anything will happen there,” she promises filling up the third bowl and swapping it for the last one. “Who would be silly enough to attack a place crawling with Avengers.”

“Don't jinx it,” Peter groans, rubbing his face with his hands.

“It's only jinxed if it happens,” May points out with a raise of her spoon. “Which would mean you'd need to bring her.”

“So, that's another reason not to invite her.”

May pauses for a second before answering. “That worked against me, didn't it?"

“The point is, that you always overthink things when you're worrying for others,” May continues at her normal volume as she gathers her bowl and cutlery and takes it over to the dining table, leaving Peter to carry Michelle's and Ned's. “It's sweet, but you need to relax. She'll be fine. Ned, put your laptop away.”

“Yes, May,” Ned says as he starts to put it to sleep while Peter sets MJ's food in front of her, the girl perking up at May's words.

“Peter's worried about a girl?” she asks as Peter sets Ned's meal in front of him while he is sliding the laptop into his bag underneath the table.

“Yes,” May simply states as she pokes through the food with her fork and spoon, while Peter simultaneously pulls back with a sudden, “N-No!”

“Don't worry, it's just work related,” May explains, causing Peter to groan as he goes to grab his food from the kitchen.

“So, who's this mystery girl?” MJ questions with a face schooled for many long years to give nothing away, her elbows on the table resting either side of her bowl while her hands are clasped together above it.

“Why are you so interested?” Peter snaps as he sets his bowl and cutlery down.

“Peter!” May scolds.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Fishing for new material,” Michelle answers. “Not that I really need it for you. There's just so much to tease you for. It's a bottomless pit.”

“Th-This looks really good, May,” Ned says, glancing nervously between his two friends. “Smells delicious too.”

“Thank you, Ned. Truthfully, I just fried up some of the leftover Thai in the fridge.”

“So it is takeaway!” Peter exclaims, getting another light smack on the arm from May.

“Hey, I did cook the rice at least,” she defends while Peter rubs the area she hit. “I'm sorry, MJ. I was trying to make something different, but it kinda went up in smoke.”

“It's fine, May. Just so long as there isn't any meat in mine.”

“I made sure there wasn't meat in any, just to be safe.”

“Thanks.”

“So, how are your exams going, MJ?” May asks as they start to dig into their dinner.

“They should be fine. Same with the assessments. Just one more tomorrow,” she answers with a swallow before looking at Ned. “I take it Betty asked you to read over her work?”

The rest of the meal passes by with few events, just some causal talk, May asking questions of how MJ's holding up, and a few choice barbs flung by the snarky warrior over to the young Avenger. When they are all finished, Peter insists on collecting up the bowls and cutlery and washing up, despite the protests of his Aunt, leaving him now washing up the dishes in the kitchen.

“I should be going,” Michelle states as she rises up from her chair, though stops as May reaches a hand over.

“You don't have to go. We've got chocolate ripple cake for dessert. And I think the boys are going to put a movie on.”

“No thanks, I should go get ready for tomorrow. Make sure I'm prepared and all.”

“Well, I'll give you a slice for the road.”

“You don't have to-”

“Oh, nonsense,” May waves her off before looking over her shoulder. “Peter!”

“On it!” Peter shouts, grabbing a tea towel and quickly drying his hands before diving into the fridge.

“It was good to see you again, sweetie,” she says, pulling her into another hug that MJ accepts much quicker than the first. Michelle breaks away with a smile before walking over to Ned, who has gotten his laptop out once more.

“Bye, Ned,” she says, holding out a hand for a fist bump.

“See ya, MJ,” Ned says as he returns it. “Keep in touch over break?”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry, I've just been busy with school.”

“Yeah, we all have.”

MJ moves back around the table just as Peter bumbles out of the kitchen, sliding across the floor in his socks and bumping into a set of drawers. She manages to choke her laugh into her hoodie while he's busy fixing it and schools herself back to the blank canvas by the time he turns back around. With a slight tinge of faint crimson across his cheeks, he holds out her sizeable share of ripple cake tightly wrapped in glad-wrap. Silently, she takes it from his hands and pockets it in her hoodie along with her hands.

“Bye, dork,” she says before she walks to the door.

Peter waves awkwardly to her back and manages to stutter out, “Y-Yeah, see ya,” as she opens it, before glancing at May.

“Ask her!” his aunt mouths.

His mouth opens up again to fire back some sort of excuse, but for the second time that night the working words have gone on strike. Union has managed unity amongst every sound and syllable, turning them all in opposition of him again. No matter what his brain suggests as a compromise, there's no pleasing them. Not even the promise of using simple basic English properly. And yet, what whips everything back into shape is the sudden slam of the door behind Michelle making him jump and shifting everything into high gear. Diving for his backpack, he scurries inside for the envelope Mr. Stark gave him which had, by some means, managed to fall underneath his work and textbooks.

'This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea!'  his brain runs on a loop as he finally pulls it free. Rushing to the door and wrenching it open, Peter darts through and spots her just before she makes it to the elevator.

“Michelle! Wait!”

MJ sighs and stops just short of the elevator doors, turning around as he dashes up to her

'This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea! This is -'  

“What is it, Parker?”

“U-Um ...” Peter stammers out before clearing his throat, hoping that his words will stay working just long enough to finish this. “W-Well, today – earlier – obviously earlier, I-I got something Stark – from Mr. Stark. Not just any something; a big something. Like, monumental-”

“Get to the point, Parker,” Michelle interrupted, pulling her hands out of her pockets and crossing her arms across her chest. “You're not making any sense.”

“U-Uh, r-right … So, um, you know about Mr. Stark's wedding? To Ms. Potts?”

“No, I haven't heard about the wedding every media platform's been spending too long covering instead of actual important social issues.”

“O-Oh, right …”

'This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea!'

“What about it?”

“U-Um …” her starts again, before deflating with a sigh. “Don't worry. It's nothing. S-Sorry.”

Peter turns around and goes to walk back, until he feels her hand on his shoulder.

“Clearly not if you came running after me. What is it?”

“W-Well … I got invited,” he states, rubbing his free hand against the back of his neck.

“Huh …” she manages to utter, the blank canvas adding some life as her brows rise slightly higher over her widened eyes, “You must do some really important work for him to be invited to something so important.”

“I-I guess?”

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“… both?”

A heavy silence falls between the two of them before Michelle speaks up again.

“… So, is there anything else? Or were you just looking for compliments?”

“No! I-I … It's just … I've been allocated a guest for the trip and I … uh …” he stammers out before taking a deep breath, “… Iwaswonderingifyouwantedtocomewithme?”

“… Can you repeat that? Not all of us have super hearing, you know.”

“W-What?” he squeaks, his face draining of colour.

“Not all of us have super hearing,” she repeats. “Like your pal Spider-Man?”

“O-Oh, right. Um …” Peter clears his voice as the colour returns too quickly to his face, rushing past his normal tone and turning into a beat red blush. “I-I was just wondering i-if you wanted to come with me? T-To the wedding.”

Michelle's eyes widen again and her lips part slightly. She makes a move as if to speak, but it seems as if whatever she was going to say got caught along the way.

“Um … Look, Peter,” she starts, her head dropping slightly and tilting to the side, “I dunno-”

“You don't have to!” he exclaims, jolting her back to looking at him. Quietening himself back down, he continues with, “I-I was just asking … I knew May and Ned couldn't come-”

“Oh, so I'm third choice?”

“No! I-I mean, I see why it looks that way, but May is family and Ned's always been interested in this stuff, so i-it just seemed more likely that they would come. N-Not that I asked, because I already knew they couldn't come.”

Peter had kept his head trailed on the floor as he tentatively stammered through his explanation, meaning that he had completely missed the small smile that had managed to creak through Michelle's filter and painted itself across her canvas while he bumbled through his excuse. A small smile that had already been painted back over, along with the rest of her expression, ready to start again once more.

“Why not ask that girl that you're so worried about?”

'That's what I'm doing!'  his insides exclaim, building up and waiting to be released. Instead, what came out was, “We aren't that close, me and her.”

MJ slowly nods before she admits, “Look, I don't know-”

“You don't have to!” he repeats again. “I mean, I don't want you to feel pressured into it. Just that, you know, if you didn't have any plans for spring break, and you wanted a holiday-”

“Oh no, my usual routine of wrapping myself in blankets and reading every book in sight with no end of tea is ruined now,” she complains dryly.

“O-Oh, right. Well, enjoy your plans, I guess-”

“I was joking, loser,” she smirks with a shake of her head. “I've got nothing on.” The smirk falls from her head as she continues, “It's just, last time we planned something for us, it didn't go well.

Peter slowly nods, remembering the disaster with Mysterio and his goons that Michelle could never understand. He takes in a deep breath before asking, “… So that's a no?”

Michelle sighs and leans up against the wall, staring off at a point on the ground.

“… I don't think I'd get along well with Stark when I'm there, regardless of if he's paying for the trip or not,” she answers.

“Ms. Potts will also be there,” Peter countered, remembering Michelle's admiration for her. “Also the Avengers.”

“Seriously?!” she exclaims, raising her head in time to catch Peter nodding. “How'd you get on that invite list?”

“I dunno.”

 'Tell her! Tell her!'

“I've, uh, done some things for them. Tech upgrades and modifications.”

'And, also, I'm Spider-Man!'  his mind continues on to mock him. 'Sorry for not telling you sooner. Friends again?'

“Th-That's it,” he finishes with a swallow, waiting in silence as MJ's squinted eyes stare at him. Every time she's looked at him that way, he always felt like she was doing more than observing; she was looking straight into his soul to find some answer. If there was any way that she knew he was Spider-Man, it was through that look.

“I don't know, Peter-”

“I could also owe you a favour?” Peter interjects again. “Something- Anything that you want.”

“Anything?” she questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Y-You know, within reason,” he clarifies. “I'll even get you a dress for it.”

“You don't think I've got a suitable dress?”

“N-No! Th-That's not-”

“What if I want to wear a suit instead?” she inquires, the ghost of a smile returning to her lips as she watches him crumble.

“Then I'll get you a suit. Whatever you want.”

MJ just manages to clamp down on the laugh just after it starts, with a small smile that still manages to pluck a melody along his heartstrings.

“I'm just messing with you, Pete,” she states, still keeping the smile on her face. A smile that he can't remember being directed at him since their trip to Europe. “You make it way too easy.”

“R-Right,” he says, slowly laughing.

“Where is it?”

“Plane ticket says Auckland, New Zealand,” he replies, pulling out one of the invitations and handing it to her.

“And you're leaving …?” she asks, reading over the page.

“Saturday. Morning. Day after tomorrow.”

“Thanks for the large warning,” she mutters quietly.

“Sorry, I only found out today,” he responds, causing her to look up and eye him again with her soul piercing gaze. Suddenly, Peter wasn't too sure if he should have said anything, considering her quip before about super hearing. Or if it was just because she didn't mean to say it aloud.

“Thanks for the warning, Stark,” she mutters again before handing the invite back. “I'll think about it, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, that's fine,” he replies, taking the invitation and sliding it back into the envelope. “Just, you know, let me know tomorrow. Or May, and she can tell me.”

“I'll be sure to message late.”

“Uh, maybe at a more reasonable time? You know, for the clothes and all? In case you do decide to come?”

“What, you haven't been sizing me up now?” she asks, giving Peter a sly look that sends the crimson fire burning across his face once more, spreading quickly down his neck.

“N-No! No!”

“You sure?” she says, pushing away from the wall and moving towards him. “A lot of guys would be admiring a body like mine like a piece of art.”

“G-Good for them?” he gulps as he backs up.

MJ backs him against a wall and leans in, his eyes fluttering down to her lips just inches away from his own.

'Just lean in. Kiss her,'  a tiny voice whispered in the back of his head. 'You know you want to see if she still tastes the same.'

There was a time, though brief, where he knew exactly what she tasted like. It was heaven, or as close to it as he was ever going to get. So vibrant and shocking, sweeter than the sweetest honey, an unforgettable taste that would linger on his lips long after the smallest peck. And they were few, now just a memory of sweet torture. The whole concoctions of senses and visions builds at the tension eating away at his will while he shrinks down in a crimson mess. That is, until the smile that spreads its way across her morphs into full blown laughter, pure and joyful, the beautiful sound he hasn't truly heard in years that ever since has both blessed and haunted his dreams at the same time.

“You really make it too easy, dork,” she laughs and backs away, allowing him to release the breath of hot air trapped in his throat that he hadn't realised he was holding back.

“W-When's your exam?” he manages to spit out, pushing himself uneasily off the wall.

“It goes from 8 to 11,” she answers, getting just a nod in response as she walks over to the elevator doors and presses the down button. “Apparently we get too much sleep as it is.”

“Well, mine starts at 1, s-so just m-message any time before then, I guess. Maybe 12:30 at the latest?”

“Fine.”

The elevator doors whine as they slowly slide open, sticky metal rubbing against one another. Michelle gives them a tentative glance before stepping in and hitting the ground button.

“W-Well, see you,” Peter says, giving her another awkward wave that she finally sees.

MJ just stares at him through squinted eyes as the doors start to close, before smirking as she raises her middle finger just at the last moment. Peter lets out a loud sigh and puts his head in his hands before he makes his way back to May's apartment. When he gets inside, he closes the door before falling back against it and sliding down to the ground. Ned glances up from his laptop before taking a double-take at his crumpled friend, May quickly joining him.

“What did she do to you?” Ned asks, slowly hovering away from his chair.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Peter admits, taking several deep breaths as he spreads out his enhanced hearing, listening for any trouble on her end.

All he can hear is her softly humming to herself as she rides down, while Mrs. Thompson's TV has been switched off and the shouting from downstairs seems to have gotten louder. Looks like they'll need a visit from Queen's red-and-blue domestic expert, though they'll have to settle for Spider-Man instead. At least the suit is in the backpack.

“You asked her?” May inquires. “Properly?” Peter just nods. “… And?”

“I'll find out tomorrow.”

Michelle stretches her arms up above her head as she leaves the exam hall with the swarm of students. She had finished early, as she expected, but not as early as she thought as stupid Parker's stupid proposal kept worming its way into her head as she was trying to think. Still, she finished early, but of course she wasn't allowed to leave until time was up anyway. Not without failing, as the examiners said, which wasn't something she wished to push today. At least she had a chance to think about it, more than she had already antagonised over the decision much more than she felt she should have last night when she was meant to study. Beside her, her friend and roommate, Cindy Moon, sighs happily, her utensils cluttered in her arms.

“Finally it's over!” Cindy Moon sighs happily beside her, her overly large collection of writing utensils and highlighters cradled in her arms, “I'm so happy I could just collapse here and now!”

“I'll call the ambulance,” Michelle drawls, pulling out her phone from her jean pocket to check for messages. Nothing. “Tell them to expect the usual.”

Cindy giggles and bumps into her, “It's not that normal.”

“It's way too common for it to be considered normal,” Michelle retorts, sliding her phone back into its designated pocket as another friend and their other roommate, Betty Brant, jogs up on her other side.

“Time to celebrate, girls!” the blonde cheers. “Clubs and drinks tonight!”

“Don't you need to pack for Ned's holiday?” Cindy questions.

“No, I'm already packed. Besides, we're leaving Sunday. There's plenty of time.”

“Yeah, in which you'll throw out half your clothes an hour before you need to leave because it just doesn't feel right, and then antagonise over what else to bring,” MJ points out.

“That never happens,” Betty dismisses. “You worry too much.”

MJ and Cindy share a glance, remembering last year's trip where she was crying with her clothes strewn on the floor around her empty suitcase with 10 minutes before they left. Then again, MJ knew that Cindy stressed about packing for an entire week beforehand and keep meticulously checking even the smallest detail to make sure it was right, so she had no room to talk either.

“Drinks do sound good, though,” Cindy admits with a thoughtful nod. “Michelle?”

“Maybe,” she shrugs.

“So you're not going with Peter?” inquires Betty, drawing a sigh from Michelle.

“I haven't decided.”

“Wait, what's this?” Cindy asks in confusion, glancing between the two.

“Peter asked MJ to go to Stark's wedding with him.”

“Seriously?!” Cindy squeals, her hands jerking up to cover her mouth only to stop as she realises she's still holding her equipment.

“Not so loud …” Michelle mumbles with a wince.

“How have you not decided yet?!”

“Because I'm not that big on Stark,” Michelle starts to list off on her fingers, “Because I'm not that big on a bunch of big muscly superheroes who'll argue over who's the most macho. Because I don't want to be around a bunch of corporate yes men who are way too old and creepy to contribute to society. And because it's Peter.”

“Is the last point for the positive or negative?” Cindy stage whispers to Betty, leaning in behind MJ's back.

“Probably positive,” Betty muses. “Outweighs those three negatives.”

“Seriously?” MJ says, folding her arms over her chest with an unimpressed eyebrow raised.

“Hey, regardless of what you say, I know you still haven't gotten over Peter,” Betty says as she keeps walking, the other two quickly catching up and keeping pace. “And the way you treat him doesn't exactly help your case.”

“How I treat him?”

“Well, it's not exactly normal for girls who claim someone's broken their heart to playfully tease them,” Cindy joins in, a hand somehow free from the clutter in her arms tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“I don't tease playfully. Wait, what do you mean, 'you know'?”

“Drunk Michelle tells me things that Sober Michelle is too afraid to say,” Betty answers candidly with a sing-song pitch.

'I'm going to have to sit down and talk with Drunk Michelle,'  Michelle internally broods. 'If she keeps lying like this, I'll end up in a mess I'm not going to get out of.'

“And it's because of this that you keep turning down dates and don't do anything outside of one night stands,” Betty continues. “You should give one of those boys a chance.”

'Forget the talk. Drunk Michelle's meeting the firing squad tonight. With full prejudice.'

“Cindy-rella!” calls out a male voice from across the courtyard.

“Zekie!” Cindy perks up and runs over to the source of the pet name, running into the arms of a tall black man with short stubby dreadlocks, her utensils scattering on the cobble floor beneath them. Michelle notes him as her boyfriend, Ezekiel, as their bright grins morph together when their lips crash into each other's.

“How'd it go?”

“I dunno,” Cindy replies. “I'm worried I messed it all up.”

“Nah, you're amazing! There's no way you didn't get top marks.”

“No way, top marks will go to this girl,” a smooth male voice says coming from behind Betty and Michelle.

“Speaking of boys …” Betty says, turning around.

'Speaking of creepy …' MJ sours internally, also pivoting to the source of the sound with a scowl.

Striding over towards the group, dirty blonde hair slicked back, tight button-up shirt that hugs his muscular physique with the top buttons left undone, and tight jeans clinging to his legs, is the heir to Oscorp Industries, Harry Osborn; charmer, playboy, womaniser, millionaire in his own right, flashing a smile that would make any girl swoon.

Any girl not named Michelle Jones.

“What do you say, MJ? Top of the class yet again?”

“It's Michelle, Osborn.”

“Whoa, slow down,” Harry chuckles, “I haven't even gotten the ring yet.”

“Fuck off,” she growls, turning her back to him.

“Still as feisty as ever, huh? Calm down, MJ. I was just joking,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder, which is quickly smacked away as she spins back round.

“I told you. It's Michelle,” she snaps, glaring at him and jabs a finger in the air in front of him. “Okay?”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Michelle huffs and folds her arms over her chest, not failing to notice how his bright blue eyes travel down her body, taking in every little piece that they can see. A cold chill darts across her skin like a sickness as his gaze continues to linger while it travels back up her body, no doubt undressing her in a way that would be as uncomfortable as possible if she ever had the displeasure to live it out.

“Some friends of mine were talking about heading around to my mansion and getting a head start on the drinking before the clubs all open up,” he finally speaks after what feels like an eerie eternity for Michelle, his eyes peering into her own. “Interested?”

“Betty and I were thinking of going out later anyway,” Cindy jumps in, holding hands with her boyfriend as they walk over, their free hands holding her once again collected equipment.

“Excellent,” Harry says, barely letting his eyes leave Michelle. “You're welcome to join us.”

“We've still got some things to take care of too, though,” Betty points out.

“Alright, then we can swing round and pick you up on the way to the clubs.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“What about you, princess? We can grab a drink, get to know each other more personally,” Harry says, turning back to Michelle. “I can even invite you to join the getaway to California. Just think; hot sun, busy beaches, lots of parties. You can put all those fake girls to shame with that beautiful body of yours.”

“Nope. Not a chance, Osborn,” MJ replies, sidestepping the arm he went to throw around her shoulders and sliding her phone out of her pocket. She quickly unlocks it and opens up her messages to Peter. “Gotta pack. I've got plans. Far away from you.”

I'm in Dress and favour included

'Thanks for making that choice so much easier. Only thing you've ever been good for, Osborn,' she thinks as she gets a quick buzz back.

                                                                                                             rly?!?!?!?!?!

Yep Shocker Details?

“Really?” Osborn questions in surprise, his brow rising up. “What kind of plans?”

                                                                                               I'll send them 2 U l8r                                                                                                                After exam

“One's that don't involve you.”

Pick text speech or normal and stick with it

                                                                                                                           Ok

… Please tell me you picked normal

“That sounds lonely,” Harry croons in his sultry tone.

“It sounds peaceful,” MJ jabs back.

                                                                                                        I picked normal

I don't believe you

                                                                                                                      Y not?

You took to long to write that Also, your last message

“So, where are you going?” Harry continues to inquire, leaning in to try and peer at her phone. Without looking up, Michelle tilts it away from his eyes, keeping it close to her body.

“Somewhere not Osborn related.”

                                                                                                                          Fair                                                                            For your dress, go to 154 on 32nd                                                                                     I'll let them know u r coming

MJ's brow furrows as she reads the address. From what she remembers, that's meant to be a top end shop filled with custom makes and designer makes that only people with some decent cash can afford.

“That'll be hard to do,” Harry presses on. “Osborn is a household name, after all.”

“Right. Up on the same level as Stark himself,” MJ sarcastically retorts with a roll of her eyes.

Isn't that that really expensive new place?

                                                                                                                          Yep

“It is,” he stresses. “And soon will rise above. There's lots of money in Oscorp. Which means plenty of riches and fame for me. And anyone that's personally involved.”

“Aw, you say that to all the girls,” Michelle says, putting on a fake sweet voice that sounds deliberately off.

Stark's paying for this, isn't he?

                                                        He asked me to go there for sizing yesterday 

So you're not getting me a dress?

“Just the special one.”

“Just one? You're getting old, Osborn.”

                                                                                                                          Hey                                                                                                 It counts in my book

Fine But only because you didn't have to offer

“I think you'll find I'm young enough in all the right places,” he leans in to whisper with a smirk, “if you'd care to take a look sometime.”

“No, I'm not up for playing Doctor.”

“Right now?”

“Ever!” she growls, taking a step back.

“Hey, Cindy? Maybe we should get going?” Betty interjects nervously, stepping in between Harry's cool and calm persona and Michelle's fiery spirit fit to burst. “Let Michelle finish her packing.”

“Yeah, okay,” she nods, untangling her fingers from Ezekiel's and quickly pecking his lips. “I'll see you later.”

“See you soon,” he replies, handing her back the utensils he was carrying.

“And I'll see you later, princess,” Harry grins at Michelle. “Still time to change your mind.”

“Don't count on it,” she huffs as she storms away.

“MJ, wait up!” Betty calls after her as she and Cindy take off after their friend.

Forget sending me the details Mind if I stay tonight?

                                                                                     I'm staying at May's tonight                                                                                         She should be fine with it                                                                                                                   I'll check                                                                                        Why the sudden change?

Just thought it'll save travelling between two houses

                                                                                                                           Oh                                                                                                                         Right

Don't get excited, Parker

“Sorry, I should have defused that a lot sooner,” Betty apologises as they finally catch up to Michelle's long legged stride.

“That would have helped,” Michelle grates as she receives another couple of buzzes, this time from May.

Honey, you're more than welcome to stay.   Whenever you need to.

Michelle has to smother the smile bubbling up with the special kind of grateful feeling that only May Parker's warmth can give before turning to her friends and roommates.

“I'm not staying tonight.”

“Where are you going?” Cindy asks.

“I'll stay at May's. Peter's there and it'll save travelling all over in the early morning,” MJ explains. “Plus I'm not wanting to see that slime ball again.”

“We'll make sure they don't come to get us before you're gone,” Betty assures her.

“Thanks.”

A/N: Please feel free to let me know what you think. Hopefully the next chapter shouldn’t be too far away. At least not as far as this one was. Until next time, adios!

[rudemaidenswrite]

Sweet Revenge Kisses

Fandom: Detroit Become Human

RK800 Connor x Reader

By: @pusantheamazonian                 beta’d: @bookchic20 

Part 2! TA-DAA! The rest of this story may get weird. Because for some reason Gavin reminds me of Agent Smecker from Boondock Saints. An angry closet homo. In hindsight I may or may not have gone a lot farther than planned for this story. 

Part 1

“Y/N what are we doing?” Connor's question brings you back to reality.

You immediately stop on the sidewalk and let go of Connor's hand. It slipped your mind that you were holding it tightly and have basically kidnapped him from work.

“We’re doing that coffee date. Fuck. Are you busy? Do you even want to go on a date right now?” Flustered you start to panic. You don’t want to be charged with kidnapping.

“Yes to the date. I was only filling out paperwork, waiting for another case.”

“Okay good, well we’re going to the Busy Bean. It's the closet one. The walk there and back can be our date.” Gesturing down the block.

“Sounds like a plan. What is your profession?” Connor smiles as he proceeds to walk.

“Profession? Oh, I own and run a food truck.” Hopping, you quickly catch up. His long strides put him far ahead.

“A food truck? Like the Chicken Feed?”

“Sorta, it’s called The Warm Bowl. Um, do you well can you even eat food or is it just liquid thirium?”

“I can eat all thirium based items and small amounts of carbon based food.”

“That's good to know.” Nodding you make a mental of note of that.

“How do you take your coffee?” Connor asks as he open the coffee shop’s door.

“Black like my soul.” Hovering in the back you wait for the line to go down.

“Black like your soul? How do you know what color souls are?” Confused, his LED light is whirling between yellow and red.

“Connor it was a joke. Black like my soul is a joke.” Deadpanning you reassure him.

“A joke? Why would you joke about that?”

“Because I can.”

“You should not talk like that. Your soul is the part of you that makes you who you are and that will live on after your death, the part of you that will go to heaven and be immortal, according to the teachings of certain religions.” Frowning, Connor is obviously saddened by your comment,

“Eh, doesn't feel like it. How's your soul doing?” Shrugging it off you distract him from your soul.

“I don't have a soul, I'm a machine.” Obviously dejected by the way he sighs.

“Everything has a soul. Yours is just a little underdeveloped…. like a preemie baby.” You pinch his cheek.

“There is hope for me?” Connor's voice hints at hopeful.

“Of course, there’s hope for everyone.”

With a new pep in his step Connor grins, leaving while he orders the coffee. There's something cute about the way he lights when he knows there's a possibility of happiness.

Connor returns shortly with coffee. “Can I ask you a personal question?” The way he says the question makes you wonder if he has this question prepared.

“Go ahead.” Connor hands you the coffee that you gladly take as you head back outside.

“Why do you purposely fight with Detective Reed?”

Ah… This question.

“Not purposely, it just happens. But I do live to annoy him.” Carefully prying the lid off, you blow air across the cup to cool it down a few degrees.

“That still sounds on purpose.”

“Eh, read into however you want. Just basic sibling terrorizing.”

“Why do you still have your LED light? I thought that all deviants removed theirs.”

“I never felt the need to. I am alive but I am still a machine. It is who I am, as someone gets a tattoo. It is a statement and reminder to how I became alive.”

“But it still makes you an easy target because you're so identifiable.”

“Yes, but it does not change the way I feel.”

“That's good… So what do you do when you're not at work?”

“Watching TV with Hank, monitoring his diet and keeping the house tidy. Cuddling with Sumo until it is time for stasis.”

A fucking housewife.

“It's nice that you're watching out for him.”

“He was my first friend. He knew I was deviant before I did.” Connor pauses. “What do you do when you're not annoying Detective Reed?”

“Well eat, sleep, work, play video games, repeat.”

“Is that a robot joke?”

“Maybe.” Smiling you bump his shoulder.

“You seem to regard yourself more as a machine than human.”

“Experiences shape how you feel. Sometimes I feel like I'm just a machine.” Your response causes Connor to pause and think for a few moments.

“How many years between you and Detective Reed?”

“You can just say Gavin, but he's five years older.” Seeing him processing that order, you know he's not going to be able to just switch from Detective Reed to Gavin. “What's your favorite movie?”

“From Hank's collection, I would have to say Mamma Mia.”

“Mamma Mia?” You almost snort coffee out your nose. You are slowly realizing that Connor is fucking weird.

“Is that odd?”

“No no, I just didn't peg you as a musical fan.”

“What is your favorite move?”

“I would have to say The Land Before Time.” Connor gives you a confused look. “I like dinosaurs. It’s a movie about baby dinosaurs.”

“Baby dinosaurs?”

“Baby dinosaurs are the best.”

“Has Detect- Gavin always had tough relations with other people?”

“He'd complicated…. He has always been rough around the edges, a problem with authority. Being raised by a single parent you quickly learn that most people are assholes.”

“Then why such hate for androids?”

“Ah, his last partner left him for a sex android. That's where most of his hate for androids stems from. Then it’s because he is stubborn and doesn't like change, as you know androids are the newest level of change for this world.” You kick a stone that’s in your path as you slow down, stopping in front of the police department. Letting the silence take over.

“Would you like to go on another date?” Connor asks after a few moments.

“Yes, that would be nice. But I think you better get a move on.” Nodding towards the door, where Hank is waiting.

“Oh…. Time to go to work.” His face drop for a second as he quickly masks the disappointment.

“Well I will see you later. You two have fun.” Waving at Hank you walk a few steps away.

“W-wait aren't you supposed to give me your phone number or address?” Connor reaches out to stop you.

“Connor you're a detective. I’m pretty sure you can figure it out.” Winking, before walking away smiling. You can hear Hank laughing his ass off.

~

“Oh come on Chris, is this really necessary?” Grumbling you follow his lead.

“Sorry Y/N, but I have to follow the rules. Everyone has to be separated.” Chris motions to a separate holding cell. You don't want to be separated from Andrew. There’s no telling on how he’s going to react, when he does react. He’s still processing his new found deviancy, the two of you have been working on expressing emotions.

“Well I want my one phone call.”

“I already called your brother. Since this is an android related case, Hank and Connor will be here shortly.”  Chris states hinting that he's sorry.

“Fuuuucckk.” Groaning you face plant on the bench.

After awhile Chris comes back and moves you into an interrogation room. Knowing that this is going to be annoying and unpleasant, you start making faces at the two way mirror.

“Damn it Y/N.” Hank yells opening the door.

“What?”

“You want to explain why Chris had to arrest you?” Hank gruffs sitting down.

“The dipshit wouldn’t keep his fucking hands off my fucking android. I was beating some sense into him.”

“Chris says that you were beating him with a wok. Your android Andrew was cowering behind the food truck and Chris could smell alcohol on the man you were beating.”

“Yeah and?” Rolling your eyes, you lean back in the chair.

“Explain in detail.”

“We were closing for the night when this dipshit came back. I refused service to him earlier because he was acting like an asshole to the other customers and made rude comments about Andrew. Saying that deviants need to be deactivated and that they have no souls. But he comes back drunk and tries to start a fight with Andrew. So I grabbed a pot and started beating him with it.”

“Jesus. Why didn't you call the police?”

“He already had a hold of Andrew, besides I normally have at least one of these assholes per day. It has just been a normal day.”

“Good thing for you, Andrew was the one who called the police so you’re in luck.”

“Eh.” Shrugging you see Hank sigh. Not a normal sigh but the done with your shit sigh. Which makes you question where is Connor? Chris said that Hank and Connor would be here. “...Hank is-” Hank lifts his hand to stop you and nods back to the window. He already knew you were going to ask if Connor is here. “Fuck.” Sighing you let your head fall to the table with a thud.

“Give me some time and I’ll have you out of here.” Hank orders before leaving. He walks into the observation room studying Connor. “What do you think, Connor?”

“She has no reason to lie. The other male’s blood alcohol level is 0.27%. Well above legal limit.”

“But…”

“I’m worried… this behavior is not what I calculated.” Frowning, his LED whirls yellow again.

“Y/N did say she was defending Andrew. People change when they are protecting someone.”

“I will talk to Andrew.” Connor tries to remain calm, he must remain professional. In the other observation room it is obvious that the android is nervous. Connor sits down and smiles. “Hello my name is Connor. I’m here to help.”

“W-where is Y/N?” Andrew stutters, he continues to fidget.

“She is fine. Can you tell me your name?”

“Andrew, an AW500.”

“Andrew, I need you to explain what happened.”

“The man came out of nowhere… I was cleaning up outside the truck, we were closing. He was angry about something. Y/N had refused him service earlier that day. He… Grabbed my shirt and threw me to the ground. Y/N came and was beating him off. I was scared, I alerted the police. Y/N says that if anything bad happens call the police.”

“That was the right thing to do Andrew. What is your relationship with Y/N?” Connor deviates away from the investigations questions.

“She’s my boss and best friend. She understood why I was deviant and has been helping me adjust.”

“Andrew I need to access your memory bank, to review the days incidents involving the other man.”

“Okay.” Andrew holds his hand out, Connor grabs his wrist as the  data transfers. Through Andrew's eyes he is able to confirm the events leading up to the assault and what happened.

“Thank you Andrew. I will confer with Lieutenant Anderson.” Connor politely smiles and returns to Hank.

“Well?”

“It was self defense.” Connor confirms.

“See no worries Connor. I'll have Chris start the discharge paperwork. There's no need to be jealous.” Hank chuckles patting Connors shoulder.

“Jealous?”

“Asking about their relationship. I think your feeling a little jealous.”

“No I'm not. I was just gathering data.”

“Uh huh.” Hank nods slightly in assurance but not truly buying it.

“Where is she?” Gavin bursts in.

“Currently being discharged. She was involved in case of self defense.” Connor immediately spouts off.

“Self defense?”

“Some ass attacked her and Andrew.” Hank clarifies.

“Damn it! I told her.” Gavin mumbles turning around.

“Told her what?” Connor questions in interest.

“This city will kill her.” Clearly angry Gavin storms off. Leaving Connor and Hank confused.

~

“Am I allowed to return to my business? It's not being impounded or something?”  You suspiciously question Hank as hands your stuff back.

“No you two are free to go, no charges. But I suggest 24 hour cool down. Do you want to press charges? He's already being charged with disorderly conduct and intoxication in public.” Connor states.

“That's up to you Andrew.” Shrugging you look at Andrew.

“No but I suggest sensitivity classes.” He answers quickly.

“Noted. Gavin is waiting at his desk.” Hank nods at the desks.

“Thanks for your help guys. Andrew, out of the pan and into the fire.” You give them a quick salute and gesture for Andrew to head on.

Gavin is perched on his desk impatiently waiting. “Dawn and Greg closed up shop. I'm taking you two home.” Gavin tosses the keys at you. You miss and they fall to the floor.

“Hey we don't catch. But thanks for calling them.” Annoyed you pick them up, noticing that Andrew is hanging back away from Gavin.

“You need to close shop up earlier or have some type of lookout or something!” Gavin starts chiming in his two cents.

“Yeah yeah, you want me to get a ninja?”

“You couldn't afford a ninja.” He scoffs.

“Then shut up.”

[emjenenla]

I’m safe inside the light, so go on do your worst Part Two [A Stormlight Archive Fanfic]

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Elhokar was a failure at everything he’d ever done. He’d failed as a son, as a warrior and as a king. He saw no reason to fail as a Knight Radiant too. Or the one where Elhokar swears to the first Ideal at the end of WoK.

Warnings: Domestic Violence, Self-Esteem Issues

You know how I said this was going to be three parts? Yeah, I lied. At least this new four-part plan gives you more story to chew on while I inevitably get writer's block trying to deal with the failed get-Sadeas-to-duel-Adolin scheme which is my least favorite part of WoR for reasons that have nothing to do with Elhokar.

Also, I am planning to change the title of this work once I come up with something better, so the title might be different by the time I post part three.

Life went on, at least that was probably what happened to people who hadn’t been attacked by their uncles and bullied into handing over some more of their already shaky power. Elhokar, however, was having a hard time going on. At first he had nightmares that sometimes caused him to scream so loudly that his guards came running (of course they did that now when he wasn’t in any actual danger). After that had gone on for a while Elhokar became so terrified of reliving Dalinar’s attack in his dreams that he couldn’t sleep unless he downed a couple glasses of violet wine before lying down. When he was awake, he so panicky that he jumped at shadows and the smallest slights and threats were enough to send him into fits of hysterics.

And then there was the problem of the Stormlight. The spheres in his lamps and pockets were constantly going dun, some within hours of being recharged. Shadow had explained that was a byproduct of their bond and that Elhokar could learn to use the Light to do things if he practiced, but Elhokar didn’t even want to think about actually using the Light; he needed to figure out how to make it stop. He drew on a fair amount of Stormlight every time someone so much as mentioned Dalinar, eventually he was going to get caught and he didn’t want to explain what was happening.

“You look terrible. Have you slept?” Navani asked one morning when he was visiting her in her chambers.

“I’m fine,” Elhokar said. Shadow buzzed quietly, but Elhokar silently argued that it wasn’t really a lie. He was a lot more alert than he should have been given that he was running on about three hours of toss and turn sleep and a hangover. He suspected all the Stormlight had something to do with how surprisingly decent he was feeling, but he wasn’t about to tell Navani that.

“And you’ve been more anxious recently too,” Navani went on. “What’s been bothering you?”

“Oh, the usual,” Elhokar lied, making sure he kept his gaze focused on the view of the Plains out the window while he spoke. He was learning to be a better liar--something he couldn’t tell if Shadow liked or not--but he still couldn’t look someone in the eyes and lie convincingly, “Nothing particularly worth mentioning.”

Navani didn’t respond for a long time, and eventually Elhokar turned to look at her. Her lips were pressed together in thought, like she had sensed the lie and was trying to scope out the the truth. Navani and her two children had been cursed with the utter inability to truly understand each other. That said, Elhokar and Navani were much closer than Navani and Jasnah were because Navani found Elhokar at the very least less inscrutable than Jasnah. Navani might have been able to figure out at least part of what was bothering Elhokar if given enough time and he didn’t want to risk it.

“Mother,” he said as gently as possible. “Nothing out of the ordinary is wrong.”

“Dalinar said you’ve been calling him to investigate less supposed assassination attempts,” Navani said. “It’s good that your fear of assassination is fading, though I wish you would confide in me about what this new worry is. You’re starting to look like a walking corpse.”

Elhokar didn’t have the heart to tell her that his fear of assassination was just as strong as it had ever been, but that it had now been eclipsed by the fear of being assassinated by Dalinar.

The next time Dalinar held one of his “Oh look, my brilliant plan to use my ill-gotten power to force people to do what I want isn’t working” planning meetings, he brought along a contingency of darkeyed guards. Elhokar, like everyone else in the Warcamps, had heard about the bridgemen Dalinar had freed from Sadeas and turned into guards, but this was the first time he’d actually seen them. He was leery at first, as he always was of new people, but their leader--a serious man younger than Renarin with slave marks and a shash brand on his forehead--turned out to be very open to the idea that someone might be trying to hurt his charges which was refreshing. Still, Elhokar reminded himself that these bridgemen were even more firmly indebted to Dalinar than Elhokar’s lighteyed guards were; he could not trust them to actually save him if Dalinar told them not to.

Even though Elhokar was technically supposed to be in charge, Dalinar took over the planning, rambling around disarming the highprinces and treating them like new recruits and a million other things that were probably going to get not just him and Elhokar killed but everyone they cared about too. Elhokar tried to point that out, hoping that appealing to Dalinar’s hopefully more genuine feelings for Navani, Adolin and Renarin would actually convince the man to see sense.

“Yes, you are right,” Dalinar said, regretfully. “I hadn’t… but yes. That is how they think.” He sounded so sincere and gentle, like a kindly old grandfather. How did he manage that? Elhokar was torn between wanting to run the other way and wanting to get down on his knees and beg for the secret.

“And you’re still willing to go through with this plan?”

“I have no choice,” Dalinar said like that should be obvious.

Elhokar forced himself to go on, “Then at least tell me this: What is your endgame, Uncle? What is it you want out of all this? In a year, if we survive this fiasco, what do you want us to be?” That was boldest Elhokar had dared to be with Dalinar since the incident, and the sheer audacity of it made his stomach clench.

Dalinar was silent for a long time, simply staring out the window. “I’ll have us be what we were before, son. A kingdom that can stand through storms, a kingdom that is a light and not a darkness. I will have a truly unified Alethkar, with highprinces who are loyal and just. I’ll have more than that. I’m going to refound the Knights Radiant.”

Captain Kaladin jerked like he’d just been stung by something. Elhokar felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. He hadn’t really thought about what his strange connection to a creature claiming to be a spren meant, but Jasnah had used him as a sounding board on occasion--most likely because she’d assumed he wouldn’t understand what she was talking about--and some things had stuck in his head. Shadow began buzzing in a soft but discordant tone Elhokar had learned meant she was upset. That only confirmed his budding suspicions; whatever was happening to him had something to do with the Knights Radiant.

Great.

“Are you mad, Brightlord?” Brightness Teshav asked. “The Radiants? You’re going to try to rebuild a sect of traitors who gave us over to the Voidbringers?”

“The rest of this sounds good, Father,” Adolin said with a calm logic that most people probably wouldn’t have believed he possessed. “I know you think about the Radiants a lot, but you see them...differently than everyone else. It won’t go well if you announce that you want to emulate them.”

Elhokar felt like he was standing by watching everything even remotely sane about his life crumble to ash. Where they really seriously discussing refounding the Knights Radiant? The idea should have been dismissed as a joke the instant it was brought up, but Adolin and Brightness Teshav were trying to come up with logical reasons why refounding an organization of traitors that everyone hated was a bad idea. They were all so in Dalinar’s thrawl that they were actually considering it.

That wasn’t even the only problem. Shadow wouldn’t have gotten worked up if Dalinar was just spouting nonsense. Her reaction suggested that there was a real connection between her and the Knights Radiant, which meant that there was a real connection between Elhokar and the Knights Radiant.

Elhokar couldn’t help it, he covered his face and groaned.

“Am I a Knight Radiant?” Elhokar asked Shadow the instant they were alone.

She paused for a moment as if considering how she wanted to respond. “Not yet,” she said slowly.

“So I’m supposed to be a Knight Radiant,” Elhokar pushed on. “Dalinar is actually on the right track.”

“The way he plans to refound the Knights Radiant is not the way it is supposed to happen,” Shadow said. “The Knights Radiant must rise again, but it should be at the initiative of those who were chosen not at the behest of some over-zealous warlord with visions he thinks are from the Almighty.”

“People who are chosen,” Elhokar repeated. “People like me? Why would you choose me to be a Knight Radiant? Unless you want to make sure everyone hates them again. You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you thought I could actually manage to be a hero.”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe you capable of,” Shadow said. “It’s what you believe yourself capable of that matters.”

“Why do you always do that?” Elhokar burst out.

“Do what?” Shadow asked. She actually had the audacity to sound confused.

“Talk about me like I’m not a failure of a king and a pushover,” Elhokar said. “You’ve seen plenty of proof of both, why keep denying it?”

“One of us needs to have some self-esteem,” Shadow said curtly. “And since it’s obviously not going to be you…”

“What do you want me to do, Shadow?” Elhokar snapped marching across the room and flinging his hand out to his side. “Summon my Shardblade and waltz around the warcamps proclaiming the Knights Radiant reborn? If I was lucky people might actually kill me for being a legitimate threat and not just because Alethkar can’t have an insane ruler.”

“Elhokar,” Shadow said in a very peculiar tone. “You might not want to draw your-”

Elhokar’s Shardblade formed in his hand and the instant his fingers closed around it a dreadful screaming filled his head. It was as if something was crying out in pain, like something had been trapped unendingly in the moment of its murder.

Elhokar cried out and dropped the Shardblade. The instant he let go of the Blade the screaming stopped. Elhokar stumbled across the room and threw up in one decorative vases in the corner of the room. The screaming was one of the most horrid he’d ever experienced, up there with the battles which were little more than wholesale slaughters Gavilar and Dalinar had made him witness as a child to “give him a stomach for fighting.”

The guards burst in because they were evidently still under orders to pretend to care about his well being when it suited Dalinar. “I’m fine,” Elhokar growled, spitting bile into the vase. “Get out.”

“Your Majesty-” the guard began.

“Am I your king or not?” Elhokar snapped. “I ordered you out. Get out!”

The guards blinked looking like they were surprised to see their charge doing something other than whining about assassination attempts. “Yes, Your Majesty.” They said and slunk out of the room.

Elhokar leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor in a trembling heap. “You see?” He said to Shadow. “I can’t even use a Shardblade anymore.”

“I hate those things,” Shadow said coasting across the floor towards him. “They’re perversions.”

“I don’t care what you think of them,” Elhokar said. “No one will take an Alethi King who can’t use a Shardblade seriously.”

Shadow was silent for an almost outrageously long time. “What?” Elhokar asked when he couldn’t take it anymore.

“As time goes on I remember more and more,” Shadow said slowly. “I’m just not sure what I should tell you and what you should be allowed to figure out for yourself.”

“Oh,” Elhokar groaned. “So now you’re hiding things from me.”

“I-” Shadow seemed a little thrown. “I’m just not sure if telling you would be the best way to do it. I don’t want to hurt your development by telling you something you were supposed to figure it out on your own. Though I suppose if it bothers you so much I could just-”

She was cut off by a fist pounding heavily on the door. “Elhokar? Elhokar are you alright?” Dalinar. Elhokar felt his entire body go stiff. “Elhokar!”

Elhokar didn’t respond. His heart was beating wildly in his throat. Maybe if he said nothing Dalinar would just go away.

No such luck. “Elhokar, I’m coming in,” Dalinar said and forced his way into the room. Elhokar tried to stay as still and quiet as possible, but Dalinar saw him right away.

“Are you alright?” Dalinar crossed the floor in a couple steps to kneel before him. “The guards said you were sick.”

“I’m fine.” Elhokar said. If he was someone like Dalinar or even Adolin he might have managed to say that so it was believable or at least so no one would question him. However, Elhokar had a feeling that he just sounded like a child who was terrified his uncle was going to beat him up.

“Elhokar,” Dalinar said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Elhokar lied. He couldn’t look Dalinar in the face so instead he stared at the man’s shoulder. “It must have just been something I ate. I’m feeling better now.”

“The guards said they heard you scream,” Dalinar said. “Did something else happen?”

“I’m fine!” Elhokar pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room, trying hide that he was still shaking.

Dalinar was silent and when Elhokar turned he was studying him with his lips pursed. “What?” he asked.

“You’re not panicking about being poisoned,” Dalinar said. He spoke in a tone of voice that suggested he didn’t realize he was being sort of insulting. “I’ve never known you to be this calm in the face of the unexpected.”

Calm? Elhokar’s stomach was still churning and he wasn’t completely convinced he wasn’t going to throw up again. He couldn’t get the memory of the screaming out of his head, and Dalinar’s presence was doing nothing for his nerves. He was anything but calm.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Elhokar said trying to look calmer than he actually was. “I told you; it was probably just something I ate. I feel better now.”

Dalinar studies him for a moment then stood up. “You might be right, but I still think it would be best if you let someone look at you. You’re not acting like yourself.”

Elhokar had to bite his tongue to hold back a snort of laughter. He spent half his life trying to convince Dalinar to take his fears seriously and the one time he tried to get him to ignore something the man latched onto it. It was almost unbelievable.

“Fine,” He eventually said. “If it makes you feel better. I’m not going anywhere.”

“It does,” Dalinar said with a nod. “I’ll be right back,” and he left.

Elhokar sighed and sunk down into the sofa and leaned his head against the armrest.

“His plan won’t work,” Shadow grumbled. It sounded a little like she was just beginning to vocalize the thoughts that had been running through her mind the entire time Dalinar had been there. “You can’t expect strong-arming people who don’t like you to work.”

“It works on me,” Elhokar whispered, his voice so quiet that it was barely more than air blowing over his lips. “And he knows it. He knows. He knows it all. He must.”

“What do you mean by ‘he knows it all?’” Shadow asked.

“Nothing,” Elhokar said perhaps a bit louder than he should have.

Shadow was silent for so long that Elhokar started to think the conversation was over, then she said, “The Words you swore after our run-in with Dalinar are the only official Oaths that you have to swear,” she spoke gently but very deliberately, like she knew she might upset him but felt that she needed to speak anyway. “However, the bond between us becomes stronger each time you reveal a deep truth about yourself. The less people who know the truth, the more powerful it is. If you’re hiding something it might be best to just confess it now and get it over with.”

Elhokar’s stomach clenched at the thought. While he didn’t tell a lot of outright lies he did have a number of things he simply hid. Still, what Shadow was asking about, that was different. She was asking for the only thing that he had never told anyone, not even his sister. It was a secret that would confirm all the worst things that had ever been said about him. It was a secret so horrible and shameful that if he told it, no one, not even a liespren, would ever associate with him again. He would become the ultimate liability.

“There’s nothing to tell,” he said.

“Elhokar,” Shadow began.

“That’s all.” he snapped and deliberately closed his eyes, effectively ending the conversation.

Things passed tensely which was not necessarily a surprise. Brightlord Amaram showed up which made Dalinar really happy, though Elhokar couldn’t figure out if that was just because he liked Amaram or because the brightlord was part of Dalinar’s plan. He was honestly afraid to ask.

They continued on with the planning meetings, though Dalinar’s plan still seemed insane. During one such meeting, Elhokar hung on until he couldn’t stand it anymore then headed out onto the balcony to get some air. He still couldn’t be around Dalinar and remain calm, not to mention other things were worrying him. Jasnah was supposed to have arrived at the Shattered Plains with Adolin’s new causal betrothed, but there had been no sign of either woman and no word. No one else seemed to be worrying about it, they kept saying things like “Jasnah always gets distracted and runs off to do other things. She’ll turn up.” Elhokar was worried, but of course he was always worried and as a result no one took him seriously, even though from what Navani had said it seemed like Jasnah had been quite keen on coming to the Shattered Plains.

Elhokar was worrying about all the harms which could have befallen his sister when he leaned against the railing and the whole thing gave way. For one horrible instant he was falling then he grabbed hold of a stable piece of railing and was jerked to a stop. He sucked in a breath and his veins flared up with Stormlight giving him enough strength to hold on and probably haul himself up once he calmed down enough to think. He swore as fouly as he was able, completely throwing all kingly decorum to the winds.

Adolin reached him first, and clung to his wrists until Dalinar arrived and they hauled Elhokar back up onto the balcony together. Elhokar half wanted to protest that he could have climbed up on his own, but he wasn’t known for his upper body strength and he didn’t want people asking pointed questions.

Once he was safely back up on the balcony, Dalinar ushered Elhokar inside with a hand on his back, seemingly unaware of how every muscle in Elhokar’s body tensed at his touch. Elhokar separated himself from his uncle as soon as possible and pointedly did not look towards the balcony. He wouldn’t be going out there again for a long time, possibly not ever. He kept his teeth clenched together, refusing to allow any of the words he wanted to say escape. He didn’t think he could handle his fears being pushed aside again.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Adolin said. He sounded breathless and flustered, which was weird, because Elhokar had always been under the impression that neither of his cousins particularly liked him. “What are the chances that an entire section of soulcast railing just gives way right when the king leans against it? It must have been an assassination attempt.”

Elhokar held his breath as he waited for Dalinar to berate Adolin and tell him that he was overreacting. However, all Dalinar did was look at Elhokar like he was hoping Elhokar had suddenly gone deaf and hadn’t heard then said, “You have a very legitimate point. Has someone sent for Captain Kaladin?”

Highstorms were on the list of things that didn’t terrify Elhokar. Sure, they made him uncomfortable, but no more so than any other person. If anything, he was actually less anxious during Highstorms because no one could get to him to assassinate him. Highstorms were better protection than bodyguards, especially when all your bodyguards were more loyal to your uncle than they were to you.

Ever since they’d realized that Dalinar was experiencing visions from the Almighty during Highstorms not raving madly, he and Navani had spent the Highstorms closed up in a private room. Dalinar described his visions and Navani copied them down, normally phonetically because Dalinar didn’t usually speak Alethi and often spoke in languages or dialects even Navani didn’t know. Navani had mentioned once in passing that she wished she had Jasnah to help her, and Elhokar had quickly avoiding the topic, because the easiest way to not to be terrified about his sister’s safety was not to think about her at all.

This particular Highstorm, Captain Kaladin was head of their guards, though the man bizarrely fell asleep partway through the Storm, something that Elhokar hadn’t even realized was possible. Adolin thought it was pretty funny and started speculating about how long it would take the bridgeman to notice if he drew a mustache on him.

“Remind me not to fall asleep around Adolin,” Elhokar muttered to Shadow, shifting into a more comfortable position in his armchair.

“I will keep that in mind,” Shadow said. “It would be very embarrassing if your cousin were to draw-” then she cut herself off and began buzzing in her high-pitched, something’s wrong tone.

Elhokar scrambled to his feet and headed to the privy without looking at Adolin and Renarin for fear of them seeing something. The roar of the Highstorm could cover Shadow’s voice when she was being quiet, but he didn’t want to risk someone hearing her like this.

He closed and locked the privy door behind him and turned to face the mirror, looking directly at the place where Shadow was riding on his shirt just over his heart, half-hidden by his coat. “Alright, what happened?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

Shadow buzzed again, a high-pitched, whining sound. She was actually vibrating a little, almost like a tremor. “Something’s coming,” she said, her words so full of frightened buzz that she was hard to understand. “It’s bad. He’s bad.”

“What do you mean ‘he?’” Elhokar asked, a sinking feeling starting in his chest and travelling down to his stomach.

“Elhokar,” Shadow said quietly, still vibrating. “It’s not safe.”

Elhokar pushed the privy door open and burst out into the main room. The scene had changed. The door to Dalinar and Navani’s room was open and Adolin and Renarin were standing in it, Captain Kaladin was nowhere in sight. Elhokar struck out across the room trying to decide how to approach this. It wasn’t like he could say that a spren had told him it wasn’t safe, but if he said anything else people would just think he was being paranoid.

When he reached his cousins he found that Captain Kaladin was inside the room talking to Navani. “Can you wake him?” the bridgeman was asking. “We need to leave this room, leave this place.”

“What’s going on?” Elhokar asked pushing by his cousins and stepping into the room.

“You’re not safe here, Your Majesty,” Kaladin said. There was a wild sort of knowing in his gaze, the same kind of knowing that was burning its way through Elhokar’s veins. This bridgeman knew something was wrong, Elhokar wasn’t sure how but he knew. “We need to get you out of the palace and take you to the warcamp.”

“This is ridiculous,” Adolin objected from behind him. “This is the safest place in the warcamps. You want us to leave? Drag the king out into the storm?”

“We need to wake the highprince,” Kaladin said, turning towards Dalinar. Elhokar was impressed by the man’s refusal to be pushed aside even after being called ridiculous.

Dalinar caught Kaladin’s arm before the bridgeman could do anything. “The highprince is awake,” he said. “What is going on here?”

“The bridgeboy wants us to evacuate the palace,” Adolin explained.

Dalinar looked to Kaldin for his explanation.

“It’s not safe here, sir.” Kaladin said.

“What makes you say that?”

There was slight, almost awkward pause then Kaladin said, “Instinct, sir.”

Dalinar stared at Kaladin for a minute then he got to his feet. “We go, then.”

Elhokar breathed an audible sigh of relief, that got him a weird look from everyone in the room, but thankfully Kaladin was too worried about whatever instinct had him asking for them to move to let anyone ask questions. He ran to the door, gave some orders to his men, then came back and grabbed Elhokar by the arm. Elhokar jerked and almost pulled away, but reminded himself that he was supposed to be a confused king, not a maybe-Radiant who knew something was going on and let himself be lead.

They ran down the hall towards the kitchens. Kaladin’s hand was like a vice around Elhokar’s arm, cutting off his circulation. It did nothing to make Elhokar less nervous. He would have liked to be able to pretend that his captain of guard knew how to protect them from whatever threat they were facing.

They came around the corner and there were no lights. Elhokar had never known the palace to ever have a dark hallway, even during the Weeping. Something was very wrong.

“Wait,” Adolin said, voicing everyone’s concerns. “Why is it dark? What happened to the spheres?”

The realization struck Elhokar a moment later. “They’ve been drained of Stormlight.”

Kaladin jerked like he hadn’t expected anyone else to realize that. Then he pulled out a sphere for light and they could all see the hole cut into the wall leading outside.

“Danger,” Shadow buzzed. “Danger.”

There was movement from a side corridor, then a figure dressed all in white and streaming Stormlight stepped into the hallway and Elhokar’s heart stopped. He had not actually seen the Assassin in White the night the man had killed Gavilar, but he’d been obsessed with and terrified by the man for six years so he knew what the man looked like.

All around him his family members and the bridgemen burst into motion, but Elhokar was frozen. He was staring down the thing he had feared for years, and he couldn’t breathe let alone think.

One of the bridgemen, grabbed him by the arm and Elhokar jumped. “Your majesty,” the bridgeman said. “Come with me.”

Elhokar let the bridgeman drag him down the hall, away from the darkness and the death. Vaguely he was aware of Navani and Renarin and another bridgeman running with them, but he could barely focus on anything. His chest was tight as a vice and there was a roaring in his ears.

They stopped running and Elhokar’s legs gave out. He slid to the floor in a pathetic heap, wheezing for breath. “Moash, where did the Assassin go?” Renarin asked from somewhere above him. “Is he not following?”

“Maybe he got stopped by the Kal and others,” the bridgeman who hadn’t been dragging Elhokar along--Moash?--said.

“Captain Kaladin can take him,”  the other bridgeman said.

A hand settled on Elhokar’s shoulder. “Elhokar?” Navani asked. “Are you alright?”

“I can’t breathe,” Elhokar panted.

Moash might have snorted and muttered something under his breath, but Elhokar was too busy trying to breathe to really worry about it. Navani ran a hand up and down his back, comfortingly.

“Is he alright?” the other bridgeman asked. “What’s wrong?”

“He’ll be fine,” Navani said. “This happens sometimes.”

“I can carry him if we need to,” Renarin said sounding annoyed.

That was a level of humiliation that Elhokar would not stand. He struggled to his feet. “I’m fine,” he said, still trying to get air to circulate through his lungs. “We can go now.”

Navani got up, but kept her hand on his elbow. She looked at him like she wanted to ask a question, but he pointedly ignored her. Why couldn’t she let him at least attempt to pretend this hadn’t happened? No to mention, they did need to move. The Assassin could have killed Dalinar, Adolin and Kaladin by now and be stalking the halls for them. Elhokar desperately wanted to ask Shadow if she could tell where the Assassin was, but he already looked weak enough without seeming to talk to himself.

Moash was staring at him with an expression that wasn’t exactly neutral, though Elhokar couldn’t figure out what it was instead. “Alright,” the bridgeman said. “Let’s go.”

On the day that Dalinar held a meeting of all the highprinces to discuss the threat of the Assassin in White, Elhokar was somewhere on the weird line between hungover and still drunk. He’d been drinking quite a bit since Dalinar had attacked him in an effort to calm his nerves, but in the days since the Assassin it had increased exponentially. This was partially to keep from panicking and partially because he wasn’t stupid enough not to realize that the Assassin had actually been after Dalinar. He was stuck somewhere between shame that not even the Assassin in freaking White thought he was enough of a threat to bother killing and guilty relief that he might get to survive the whole fiasco. Either way, he was stuck at a meeting being lead by his usurping uncle and not brave enough to do anything about it even while mildly intoxicated.

With no better options, Elhokar sat on his throne and let Dalinar do the talking. Even knowing that Dalinar was the one in real danger he still felt horribly exposed without his Shardplate. Perhaps he actually was, after all someone had masterminded the railing assassination attempt and that probably hadn’t been the Assassin. However, he couldn’t actually wear the armor because the gems on the inside kept cracking or going dun. He had a feeling that had something to do with him being a Knight Radiant in the making, so he’d stopped wearing the Plate to keep people from asking questions he couldn’t answer.

Unsurprisingly to probably everyone but Dalinar, the meeting accomplished nothing. When they paused for a break several hours in the only indication that any time had passed was the change in the sun’s position. Elhokar was now firmly on the hungover side of the intoxication scale, and the bright sunlight filtering into the chamber was only making his headache worse. He was pretty sure he could use Stormlight to make himself feel better, but he’d been getting really paranoid about people noticing how often his person spheres were going dun. He would probably only use the Stormlight if he started to feel like he was going to throw up, because vomiting during a meeting like this would be a level of humiliating he refused to sink to.

He’d been sitting for several minutes nursing a goblet of orange wine and contemplating a stronger color to test something Jasnah had mentioned once about hangovers basically being withdrawals, when Navani turned away from the conversation she had been having and practically fled from the room. Dalinar was left standing with a red-haired girl Elhokar had never seen before, looking like he was thinking about going after her but couldn’t decide if that was his job.

Elhokar was on his feet almost before he decided to move. He didn’t bother with any excuses because the highprinces were all to busy scheming to pretend that Elhokar was little more than a comma to their obsession with beating Dalinar. Still a couple people did look up and call after him, but he ignored them and ducked into the cool and dim hallway after his mother.

Navani had been moving fast and had already vanished around a corner. Elhokar broke into a jog to catch up. Each step drove a spear of pain into his brain so he finally sucked in a little Stormlight to ease his headache. The passage was empty and that was a little unnerving; Elhokar hadn’t been without guards since his father’s death.

When he rounded the first corner he saw Navani up ahead. “Mother!” he called breaking into a faster pace that would probably be classified as an actual run.

For one minute Elhokar thought she was just going to ignore him, but then she stopped in the middle of the hallway and whirled to face him just as he caught up. There were actual tears in her eyes and the sight of them froze Elhokar’s blood. He had never seen seen Navani cry.

“Mother?” Elhokar ventured, hesitantly. “What’s wrong?”

Navani took a deep, shaky breath. “That girl,” she said, “apparently she just arrived in the Warcamps. She claims to be Shallan Davar.”

“Who?” Elhokar asked blankly. The name sounded vaguely familiar but he wasn’t able to place it.

“Jasnah’s new ward,” Navani said. “The one who we were talking about marrying to Adolin.”

“Right,” Elhokar said, a little knot of anxiety loosening. If Jasnah’s ward was here that meant Jasnah must be here too, she was fine. He’d been worrying for nothing. “Then I’m afraid that I don’t understand what’s wrong. Isn’t that good?”

“This girl says,” Navani swallowed unsteadily. “That during their trip here they were attacked by pirates and that…And that Jasnah was killed.”

The small sliver of relief died. Elhokar felt a hole open up inside himself. He didn’t try to convince himself that it wasn’t true. He knew it was true. He’d known for weeks that something horrible had happened to Jasnah, all this was confirmation. His sister was gone. “Mother,” he said, a sob coloring his voice. “I-”

“The girl must be an imposter,” Navani said, straightening her spine and making as if to push her hair out of her face though it was still perfectly in place. “She must be lying. Jasnah will show up. She always does.”

“Mother,” Elhokar said, trying to figure out how to tell one of the most rational women alive that she was being irrational. “I don’t think that girl would-” And then it really hit him. Jasnah was gone. Jasnah who had once when they were children tried to comfort him while he cried by rambling about how tears were just meant to lubricate the eyes so crying when emotional didn’t actually make any sense. Jasnah who had at least listened to his worries even if she thought they were as irrational as everyone else did. Jasnah who had looked at him as her shadow fell in an impossible direction and trusted him to keep it a secret. Jasnah who had probably been a potential Radiant and everything that the refounded Order both Dalinar and Shadow wanted on their side. One sob burst out of his mouth and another and another. He tried to force them back, but he couldn’t.

Navani’s safehand came to rest gently on the side of his face. He looked up at her and her face crumbled into a sob as well. They sank to the floor and clutched at each other in a heap of sobbing bodies. Elhokar’s face was pressed against Navani’s shoulder and hers was pressed against his. They were gripping each other’s clothes in white-knuckle grips, squeezing each other so tightly it was a wonder they could breathe.

Dimly Elhokar was aware that this was wrong. Alethi didn’t break down, let alone is hallways where anyone could walk by. Even Elhokar, weak as he was, hadn’t cried for his father, and if Navani had cried for her husband it was only when no one could see her. They shouldn’t be doing this, but he wasn’t sure if he could stop.

Some indeterminable amount of time later, Elhokar became aware of someone clearing their throat rather loudly. He lifted his head from Navani’s shoulder, where he’d managed to soak a patch of her dress with his tears. Moash was standing a handful of paces distant with a look of open hatred on his face. It wasn’t the kind of contempt Elhokar would have expected from an Alethi discovering other Alethi in an emotionally compromised position, it was a look of pure, animal hatred. It was only there for a moment, then it was gone. Elhokar must have just been paranoid. Still, he wished that Kaladin spent more time guarding him and not this man, even if you didn’t believe Adolin’s crazy story about Kaladin taking a Shardblade to an arm that was now completely healthy.

“What?” he asked. His voice clogged with tears and snot. It was humiliating.

“The meeting is beginning again,” Moash said, voice normal, if a bit clipped. “I will need to escort you back. It’s not safe with the Assassin in White running around.”

They could not go back, not with evidence of their breakdowns imprinted clearly on their faces. Elhokar might have been able to use Stormlight to erase that, but what he could do needed to remain a secret. “In case you hadn’t noticed,” he said to Moash. “The Assassin is after Dalinar, so we’re probably fine.”

He felt Navani stiffen, apparently she like everyone else thought he hadn’t figured that out. Thankfully she didn’t comment, because when she straightened up she pushed her now slightly messy hair back and said, “You can escort us to my son’s chambers. If you’re so worried, you can post more guards for us there.”

Moash argued a little, but no one could stand up to Navani Kholin when she had her mind made up. Eventually he did as she asked and Elhokar found himself curled up with Navani in his big bed. They cried on and off for a long time, and eventually Elhokar ended up lying with his head buried in a pillow while Navani stroked his head the way she had when he was a child. Neither of them said a word.

Elhokar was on the edge of sleep when someone knocked tentatively on the door. “Enter,” Navani called, her powerful queen’s voice back.

The door opened and someone came in. “Are you alright?” Dalinar asked. Elhokar stiffened a little, but Navani’s fingers kept running through his hair and that relaxed him again. Navani would protect him. She wouldn’t let Dalinar attack him again. He resumed his slow float to sleep.

“We’re fine,” Navani replied stiffly.

“Navani…” Dalinar sounded like he wasn’t sure how to proceed. “About Jasnah-”

“Don’t say anything about Jasnah,” Navani said tightly. “There’s nothing to say. That girl must be mistaken. Jasnah will be back.”

“Navani, you can’t just-” Dalinar paused as he tried to figure out what to say, but Elhokar never got to hear what he came up with, because that was when he slid away into the relatively peaceful embrace of sleep.