#a lot of people definitely thought of that already and went deeper in their musings

[whisperofthewaves]

I’m playing a character in our dnd adventure who’s been distancing herself from her given name (which is tied to a noble family) and is using a name she made for herself, which also happens to be a male name, because she’s disguising herself as a guy - and this is kinda as far as I go in regards to her relationship to gender, bc frankly, neither me personally nor the character know how to relate to it. she’s a she. but she’s also a guy. I guess. or neither. I don’t know which and she doesn’t care - but last session she was tricked into giving her chosen name to a fey and at the end she could choose to get it back offering her given name for it. which she did. because her chosen male name was more true to her identity than her given name that ties her to her family and things she does not want for herself, and bc giving away the name would stop her from ever saying it again. our DM ruled that by doing that, she gave up her real true name, the one given to her by her parents. and the context of all this is silly, but it struck me, the whole concept of a true name resting on the fact that it was given to you by somebody else when you were nameless and had no say in choosing it, and prevailing regardless of your own feelings on it later, as something rather cruel.

[uvobreakmylegs]

Prey

got a request for a monster!Uvo as well as a request for an Uvo fic where he chases the reader. hope it’s cool that I combined the two of them

@ramwrites​ and I are in agreement that werewolf is the best type of monster for Uvogin

werewolf!Uvogin

Warnings: death, blood, gore, body horror, little bit of smut, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of cannibalism, attempted suicide, implied kidnapping, reader does not have a good time

Thin rays of sun that were able to slip past the branches of the trees hit Uvo's back as he went about his work, placing another upright log on the now considerably worn down tree stump and bringing his axe down upon it, slicing the wood in two and tossing the pieces into the pile to his right before he grabbed another unchopped piece from the pile to the left. Based off of the sun's position in the sky, it was only a bit after midday. Uvogin had been going at this for a while now, his sweat staining the white tank he wore.

Though the sweating wasn't because the work was in any way debilitating. Any other day of the month Uvogin would've been able to chop the same amount and not even break a sweat.

No, today was different because of what was happening tonight: a full moon.

Even though the night was still a long ways off, Uvo could already feel the very beginnings of his transformation shuddering through him. Faint, but still noticable. Unfortunately, with the ever present fact that nightfall wouldn't come for hours yet, there was little he could to other than to keep himself busy and distract himself lest the anticipation kill him. So he continued to chopping the logs, even though the amount he had cut already was bordering on excessive.

In the midst of his distraction, his ears perked up when he heard the faint rumblings of a car engine. His senses of smell and hearing were always pretty good even when it wasn't close to a full moon, but those senses were ten times as sharp now, and he could clearly hear as the car came in closer and closer.

Whoever they were, they wouldn't be the first people to have approached him today. Already he'd been asked two different times for directions to the nearby campgrounds, the first time by an elderly couple who were likely well into retirement, and the second by a group of individuals who had also gotten lost. The woman from that group who went up to him told him more information than he'd needed to know, informing him of how theirs was a company sanctioned team-building retreat. She had a piece of gum in her mouth and smacked it loudly as she talked, and because of his sensitive hearing, the sound of it became distressing to the point that Uvo had to keep himself from clawing his ears off.

Everyone in that group deserved to die because of that woman alone.

Uvogin didn't stop what he was doing even when he heard the car drive past and then suddenly brake, just continuing as he was while he heard the sounds of a car door opening and someone stepping out. Words were being spoken; what was being said exactly he couldn't say, but based off of previous experience it was easy enough to guess.

The car door slammed shut and the engine rumbled again as the car began to drive further down the dirt road. It'd be back in a little bit – over that way was a dead end. But Uvogin quickly switched his focus to the footsteps he heard walking through the unmarked pathway and headed towards him.

“Excuse me?”

He heard your voice call out to him, and Uvo finally turned to face you. Upon making eye contact with him, you smiled and held up a map as you called out again “sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help out with some directions? We're looking for the Visca lake campgrounds, but I think we've been going around in circles.”

You didn't come any closer when you said that, though it seemed to be more out of a desire to not intrude on his space as opposed to being nervous about the axe he was holding. There was a hopeful look in your eye, though you also seemed ready to apologize for bugging him if he instead told you to fuck off.

Already he knew he liked you much better than the bitch from earlier.

“Sure,” he replied.

Uvo set the axe down and walked towards you, his hand outstretched so you could hand him your map. You smiled and handed him the map without any hesitation, coming up beside him as he unfolded it and scanned the paper so he could give you an idea of what direction you needed to go. The height difference between the two of you meant that he needed to lean down a bit as he pointed out to you the appropriate road that would get you to your destination.

“The road to the campgrounds is here,” he told you.

Despite the way he had tried to accommodate the height difference, you still needed to stand on your toes to see where he was pointing. Your arm came up briefly before you swiftly pulled it back. Like you'd been tempted to place your hand on his forearm to better balance yourself but stopped yourself since the two of you were complete strangers. Though Uvo wouldn't have minded too much if you had done so. Taking advantage of the way you were right next to him, he inhaled, memorizing your scent for later.

Uvo then moved his finger towards the left as he continued “we're around this area, so you'll want to drive back the way you came and take the first right you see. Then you'll want to take another right to get onto the campground road. As long as you don't fuck up turning, you should get to the lake in about ten minutes. Maybe less.”

“Ah, okay!” you responded, taking back your map as you looked over the route he'd pointed out to you. As you were desperate to make sure you got his directions right so you wouldn't need to be in the embarrassing situation of messing up his instructions and needing to go back to him for further clarification, you didn't notice the way he was looking you over or how he inhaled more of your scent.

Your hair smelled of something flowery, some kind of hair product you must have used that morning before you drove out here. Your clothing also had a rather soapy smell, though it wasn't as noticeable as the product in your hair. Beneath all of that, he was able to take in your natural scent that was free of any products or chemicals, as well as... Perfume? An odd choice for a camping trip, he thought. Then another smell hit him, one that surrounded you but you were definitely not the source of.

Oh.

It was the unmistakable scent of another man.

The perfume made more sense now. You'd said 'we' earlier as well, so chances were you'd come here with a boyfriend for a romantic weekend getaway and his smell has just gotten all over you after spending several hours cooped up in a car with him.

Not terribly displeasing. A boyfriend being in the picture might make things a bit more interesting.

“Okay, I think I've got it,” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts, “sorry if I took up too much of your time.”

“No problem,” he answered, “I get a lotta people asking for directions, so I'm used to it.”

“Really? That sounds like it gets annoying. Why don't they put up signs or something?” you asked.

“They do,” Uvo said, “but they usually get taken down by vandals.”

More like self-righteous teenagers who'd found out the truth about him and couldn't stand the fact that the elders of the nearby town allowed Uvogin to do as he pleased and thought they could thwart his killing sprees by taking down the signs leading to the lake, like they could save any innocent vacationers if they weren't able to find the campgrounds. Those kids had yet to learn that if they managed to deprive Uvo of his prey, he'd be forced to go to their own town and hunt there, maybe snatch up one of them or their families. The older folk in charge of the town understood that, and they'd decided that it was better to let the occasional out of town stranger be his prey than risk him coming in and picking off whatever stragglers he could find in their community.

People vacationing in the wilderness died all the time, after all.

“Vandals?” you asked. There was the slightest bit of concern in your voice, and when your eyes went slightly wide as you looked at him, he couldn't help but muse at how cute you looked like that.

“Just dumb kids,” he explained, “there's a small town a little ways back and I reckon they don't have much to do around there.”

“Ah, I see. Do you think we'll need to worry about them bothering us?”

“Nah, they wouldn't do anything,” Uvo said, “besides, they know that I'm out here today, and they know better than to bug me.”

You laughed a bit at that, any deeper meaning to his words going over your head.

“I can't blame them. If I was one of them I'd be too scared to do anything to get on your bad side.”

Uvogin just smiled.

A voice then called at the top of the path, and you both looked to see a dark-haired man around your age standing there. He called out what Uvo assumed was your name, and you waved to him, calling out a short “coming!” before you turned back to Uvogin.

“Thank you again for your help. I really appreciate it,” you told him.

“Once again, not a problem. Hope you two have a good time.”

You smiled and nodded at him, and then began to walk back over to your boyfriend. But before you had the chance to bid him goodbye, Uvogin spoke again.

“You wanna know something that's not in any visitor's guides?” he asked.

“Huh?”

He grinned at your slightly confused expression as he explained “if you go down to the southern side of the lake, there are these really beautiful cliffs in the forest. A lot of clearings that show a pretty good view of the sky, too. And it's a full moon tonight; if you want to make some memories, you should check it out when it gets dark.”

Clearly intrigued, you turned back to face him, asking “really? Why isn't that part advertised?”

“The locals want to keep parts of the lake to themselves,” he said, “but I think it's something that you might appreciate.”

“You sure you won't get in trouble for telling me?”

“Not if you don't say anything,” said Uvo, raising an eyebrow as he smirked.

“Ah, gotcha,” you said. Behind you, your boyfriend was starting to look a bit suspicious, and his lips soon formed a frown. You weren't paying him any mind at the moment.

“What's your name?” you asked.

“Uvogin.”

You held out your hand as you introduced yourself, and he humored you by giving you a handshake.

“Thank you so much for everything,” you said, “maybe we'll see you again while we're here.”

“Maybe.”

With that, you finally turned and made your way to your awaiting boyfriend, who gave Uvo one last narrowed glance before he turned his attention to you as you eagerly pulled your map back out and began to tell him the directions that had been given to you. Your boyfriend only gave one more glance towards Uvogin before focusing his full attention on you, looking over the map with you before the two of you made your way back to the car. He seemed rather boring, Uvo thought to himself. Yet before you made it back in, you stepped up and kissed your boyfriend on the cheek. Uvo saw the way your boyfriend stiffened and the blush that reached his ears as he sat down in the driver's seat to escape your random but sweet action. You laughed as you entered through the passenger's side, and Uvo kept an eye on the two of you until he saw your small, light blue car pull away and drive down the road.

When the two of you were gone, Uvo went back to chopping wood, picking the axe back up and slicing the log into two even pieces. He didn't expect that anyone else would come blundering into the forest before evening, but if they did, he wouldn't pay them much mind. If he killed every single person who came in to enjoy the lake he would quickly lose that particular food source and then need to find another area to hunt.

No, the only ones that were on the table tonight were the company group and you and your boyfriend – he wouldn't bother hunting down that elderly couple as it wouldn't be interesting in the slightest to go after them. The larger group had a good number of people in it, so there would be no need to seek out anyone else. Honestly he shouldn't even bother with the two of you, but Uvo thought of you again, thinking over every action you had taken, from the way you had approached him to how you held out your hand when you introduced yourself.

The little bit of affection you had offered to your boyfriend also came to mind but he brushed that thought away. It was unimportant, he told himself.

No, he shouldn't bother with the two of you, but he wanted to see how your naive little expression might change when you saw him next, after the moonlight had transformed him, and hear how you might scream and cry as he hunted you down.

He grinned at the thought, and when his axe came down again, it sliced the log and the stump beneath it clean through.

The true beginnings of his change had started hours ago when the sun sank past the horizon and the moon slowly rose in the night sky. Just little things, like the way his teeth began to shift in his mouth, or how the black tips of his claws were starting to show beneath his fingernails, slowly pushing up beneath the nails and trying to force themselves out so he could have an easier time tearing apart whatever unfortunate victim happened to be closest to him.

His skin was starting to shift a bit in places as well as it began to detach from the muscle beneath, and he was hit with an overwhelming urge to run outside and allow his transformation to complete so he could go wild as he always did on a full moon night.

But he waited, forcing himself to focus on the fire that was burning before him, to wait until it had gone out completely before he stepped foot out of his cabin.

It had turned into something of a ritual for him; when he had started it he could no longer remember. It was purely ceremonial, and at the heart of it he knew that it did nothing to add to his hunt, but after being alone in the woods for so long he supposed he was entitled to a bit of superstition. And at this point, it would have felt wrong to do it any other way. When the fire went out, the moon would be at the highest point in the sky, and when he left the dark cabin and bared himself to the moonlight, his werewolf form would tear through and he would track down the victims he had met earlier in the day, the ones whose scents he had remembered after he'd chosen them for his prey. Didn't matter much in what order he got them, just whatever scent he came across first.

Although maybe tonight it mattered a little bit. If he could manage it, Uvogin wanted you to be the last one to die tonight. After the group from the company retreat and your bland looking boyfriend, he'd hoped he could then have you for last. Something about that made him feel like that would be the only appropriate ending to the night.

But that all depended if he could manage to remember that after he'd transformed.

The light of the fire was growing more dim, and he was having a harder time sitting still, his entire body itching to burst through the cabin door and let the moonlight take him.

Not yet, he told himself.

But soon.

Those black claws were showing a bit more now, and at least two of his fingernails had popped off, blood coating his fingertips as his hands clenched onto the skin of his legs. That same skin shifted once more as he did so, and after a few moments he felt something trickling down his thigh, and when he glanced down he could see in the faint glimmer of firelight the hole in his skin that he'd torn open, and the dark fur beneath the human flesh that was still covered and the blood dripping down his leg.

Not yet not yet not yet

A few more agonizing minutes later that had seemed endless in his mind, and finally the fire he'd begun earlier was reduced to a smoulder, the flames dying out and the wood glowing red as the fire reached the end of its life.

Now

No sooner had he thought that Uvogin had thrown open the cabin door and ran out into the woods that surrounded him, bare as he gazed up at the full moon as he allowed himself the moment that he'd been holding off on.

There were multiple changes simultaneously and Uvogin was barely able to comprehend all of what was happening to him because of it. There was always a pain that accompanied his transformation, and while it was a pain that he was used to at this point, it was pain nonetheless.

At the sight of the moon his green eyes turned yellow and his pupils narrowed into slits, while the bones in his body began to shift and grow. It started with his spine, extending and pushing out through his skin and almost causing a ripple effect through his whole body. His bones were snapping and stretching beneath his skin, growing as his muscles were expanding and making him into even more of a giant than he already was. Claws on his hands and feet tore through the flesh that surrounded them as those parts of him extended, the skin ripping open and allowing more of the fur that was hidden underneath to show through.

When he felt the flesh around his shoulders stretch out in an attempt to accommodate the transformation he sped up the process by reaching up and tearing it away with his own fingers, the black claws easily ripping in and pulling the skin away like a latex glove. Soon the skin that had been on his arms sat around him in pieces on the grass and he began the same process with his chest and legs, tearing away his flesh in messy strips and allowing the fur that had formed on his body to be exposed, matted with blood and looking almost black in the light of the moon.

His skull went through the same process as the rest of his body, and he felt his face crack into several different pieces before the bones began to remold themselves and pushed outward, taking the shape of a wolf's muzzle while his teeth extended and shifted to fit properly in his newly formed mouth. When his ears began twisting and pushing upwards into sharp points was when he tore at the skin on his face, pulling it off as he had done with the rest and throwing it to the forest floor.

When the last of his human flesh had been removed, his transformation was complete. The man who had stepped out of that cabin was gone and replaced with a large, bipedal wolf whose yellow eyes dilated as he looked up once more to the moon. Lifting his head up, he arched his back as he let out a howl loud enough that echoed through the woods and across the surface of the lake. Those that heard it in the nearby town quietly whispered their prayers to whichever gods they worshiped while those who were visiting the lake's campsite merely marveled at the sound.

If Uvo was in a different mindset he might have thought of you in that moment, and what you might be thinking when you heard him. If you had any clue of the danger you were in.

But in this moment, there was no thought of you or even saving you for last as he had tried to so hard to ingrain into himself. There was no thought of doing this in any order or trying to end the night correctly as he had mused about earlier.

The only thing going through Uvogin's mind was the need to kill.

As luck would have it, he'd managed to kill the ones from that company first.

There had been more of them. More that were wandering around their campsite, more that were talking amongst themselves, and in general just making more noise that, combined with their scents from earlier, allowed him to find them first.

There were actually more of them in that group than he'd anticipated, and as he killed off the last woman in the group, gum falling from her mouth as he twisted her head completely around. Uvo then looked around at the carnage he'd left in his wake. It was hard to tell with the way they were all in pieces now, but the number of people group had easily been in the double digits. That would probably cause a bit of trouble, as it would be hard to try and cover this up. This would easily make the news. Annoying, as Uvo would need to make sure to lay low for a bit, and it could possibly lower the amount of potential victims in the area when the next full moon came.

But it had still been worth it.

Uvogin felt more like himself again now that the murderous urges had been sated. Able to think a bit more clearly, more rationally. And he was able to remember you and what he'd hoped for early on. He could imagine it: your scared expression as you watched him kill your boyfriend before he slaughtered you like the rest, your screams cutting short as he bit into the skin of your neck and tore out your throat.

Now that his hunger was taken care of, he left the campsite of the now-dead group. Right now all he wanted was to find you and your boyfriend.

Remembering what he had told you of the southern side of the lake, he took a gamble as he headed off in that direction, making his way through the woods at speeds much faster than a regular human would be capable of. He stopped when he felt the wind blowing again, and lifted his nose in the air, trying to see if he catch anything.

….. There

It was faint. Very faint, but he managed to catch a familiar human scent.

He turned and headed off in your direction. It was too far away to get your exact location, but it was enough that he could get at least an idea of where you were.

Continuing towards the south side of the lake, he stayed close to the shoreline until he found your little blue car from earlier parked close to the lake, a tent set up not too far off from it. Your scent became a bit more clear as he came closer, and yet when stopped to scan the area, his eyes looking for the slightest bit of movement and his ears straining to hear any bit of noise, he couldn't find you.

A bit annoying, but based off of the way the two of you had left things, you should still be in the area. It was just a matter of hunting you down.

Uvo stalked about the campsite, just in case he missed something while also puncturing two of the tires on your car and cutting off that potential escape route. Satisfied that neither of you were on the site or next to the water, he walked back into the woods, following after the little bits of that fragrance he'd latched onto.

As he walked, he thought to himself with some amusement that you'd actually taken up his suggestion. Uvogin had found that most people didn't bother, either because they were too dedicated to the plans they'd made before arriving or because they didn't trust that the landscape was as beautiful as he'd made it out to be. In fairness, it mostly all looked the same to him, but there had just been something about that particular bit of campground that made him enjoy hunting there more. So it was even more perfect that the two of you had ended up there. Most likely you were just doing what you felt like and didn't feel like adhering to any particular schedule.

His ears perked up as he heard a low voice in the distance. Not yours. Probably your boyfriend, then. Focusing himself so he could move silently, Uvogin weaved through the trees, his eyes searching for you while he listened for more noise from either of you.

When he heard your voice next, he had definitely gotten closer. Your voice had sounded odd, though. Almost breathless.

He found the two of you in a larger clearing that stood beneath one of the cliffs he had spoken of. You were laying with your back on the grass, dressed in a swimsuit with only a shirt over it. Your boyfriend was in a similar state with the moonlight falling onto his bare back, and it looked like both of you were a bit wet, some drops of water still on your skin and hair still damp. So the two of you had gone swimming before you wandered over to this area to mess around.

You said something to him before the two of you shared a kiss, and you moaned into it when he slipped his hand under your shirt to grab at your chest.

It certainly wasn't the first time Uvo had come across a pair of lovers in the woods. Such encounters usually ended with one or both betraying the other, as several times in the past one would push the other into Uvo's path in an attempt to save themselves after having a passionate make-out session only moments before.

Uvogin stepped out from the treeline and waited for one of you to notice him. You let out another moan, and to him it sounded like it was slightly exaggerated. Was your boyfriend not that good? Not too surprising, based off of Uvo's impression of him.

If Uvo had been the man on top of you, he was certain he could do much better.

….. Where did that come from?

Uvo didn't get much time to wonder about that as he heard you let out a sharp gasp, and when his eyes refocused on you, he saw that you were looking right at him. Your eyes were wide and your skin paled as you stiffened, your hands grasping at your boyfriend's arms.

“What's wrong?” your boyfriend asked when he noticed your reaction.

Keeping your eyes on Uvogin, you answered him in a small whisper “there's something over there.”

Your boyfriend turned his head to where you were looking, and he went stiff as well when he saw Uvogin's werewolf form.

It was quiet in that clearing, free of any noises from any woodland animals or even the insects, as anything that was in that immediate area sensed the danger and were desperate to keep silent. No, the only sound Uvo could hear was your breathing that became more panicked as you struggled to keep it under control and the way your boyfriend tried to shush you while he broke out into a cold sweat. You two were both under the impression to stay still and not make any sudden movements for fear of provoking him.

Then your boyfriend whispered your name.

“When I move,” he breathed out, “I want you to run back to the car and get out of here. Even if I'm not with you, you have to take the car and leave.”

As he spoke, your boyfriend slowly moved his hand over to a pack beside you that Uvo hadn't noticed at first. Still, Uvo grinned. He thought he could take him on?

You tried to protest but your boyfriend wasn't hearing it, only repeating his instructions to you and trying to make you promise that you would do as he said. You didn't want to; that was clear, but when you looked back over to Uvogin's form outside the treeline, you shuddered once more and agreed to leave with a short nod.

Uvogin waited for the boyfriend to make his move. He looked just as terrified as you were, but he was clearly trying to be brave for your sake, and his resolve seemed to steel when he got a hold of whatever he had been searching for in the pack.

“Now!”

Your boyfriend yelled as he shot up and charged at Uvo. For the first time since seeing him, Uvogin felt mildly impressed with your boyfriend; he'd been genuine about wanting to save you over himself. Not like he wouldn't still die for it as he was still incredibly weak, but there was something to be said about the willingness he had to face down a beast like Uvo for your sake.

You must be something special to make a man go that far for you.

The thing your boyfriend had pulled out turned out to be a can of bear spray as well as a medium-sized hunting knife. Uvo managed to doge the stream that had been aimed at him easily on account of how badly the hand that held it had been shaking. The boyfriend ran back a bit, unwilling to get too close to Uvogin even with the knife. He tried to aim it again, but Uvo used his claws to slice at him, slashing upwards as he aimed for his throat.

Somehow, he missed the boyfriend's throat and only managed to hit the side of his face, opening up his cheek and taking off his ear. The boyfriend cried out at that, one hand going up to his bleeding cheek while still trying to incapacitate Uvo with the bear spray. But with the way he stumbled about, it was almost too easy for Uvogin to grab him by his face and hurl him into the trunk of a nearby tree. He hit headfirst, and there was an audible cracking sound that came from the impact. Uvogin didn't even bother to watch the way his body hit the ground, experience telling him that he was definitely dead.

Uvogin was much more interested in you.

You were still in the clearing. At first you had done as your boyfriend had told you and bolted the second he yelled, running back to your campsite. But you stopped and turned back when you heard him cry out when Uvo had slashed at him. You wanted to help him but you also knew there was nothing you could do, and so you were left standing in the clearing, your whole body shaking as you struggled with the decision to stay or leave your boyfriend behind.

It was cute how loyal you were to him.

And loyalty certainly wasn't a bad quality.

When you saw your boyfriend die you froze, tears streaming down your face as you looked between the now dead man and the thing that had murdered him. You were clearly in a panic, your legs trembling as your brain struggled to figure out what to do, where to go from here. Certainly you had to be aware that you'd lost any chance of getting away like you'd been told to do, right?

Apparently not, as when Uvogin stepped forward you bolted, running back towards the camp. Yet Uvo found a sense of relief with that, that you wouldn't just sit there and let him kill you and end it so early.

For whatever reason, that last thought displeased him.

But he brushed that away as he chased after you only moments later, not bothering to be quiet with his movements and instead being as loud as possible, breaking apart any low-hanging branches in his wake as he howled into the night air once again.

You had only made it a little ways past the car when he emerged from the forest and lunged towards you. It seemed like you were trying to get away on foot given the damage to the car. Already there was a scent of blood in your wake, as the soles of your feet had already been cut up on the sharp debris of the forest floor.

You turned towards him just in time to see him raising his clawed hand over his head before he sliced it downwards. Through what must have been some bit of luck, you stumbled backwards at that moment and all he managed to do was give you a flesh wound.

You hit the surface of the gravel road hard, crying out in pain at the force of your fall as well as the cuts that were on your arm, your hand immediately grasping at your wound as you desperately tried to use your legs to get yourself off of the ground.

Then he was on top of you.

He opened his jaws wide; you saw as he did so, and attempted to crawl out from under him.

He snapped his jaws shut on your throat.

And you went stiff.

It was quiet for a few moments.

And then a small rush of air escaped from your mouth as you let out a breath you had been holding.

Almost.

He had almost killed you in that moment.

The pointed tips of his teeth were pressing lightly into your skin, not quite hard enough to make you bleed, but that would change if you shifted your neck just slightly.

Why had he stopped?

He stayed there, hunched over you, his arms caging you in while his maw was around your throat. He felt the pulse in your neck beating wildly, almost causing vibrations against his teeth. You had stopped struggling, your legs still while you continued to clutch at your wounded arm, the only noises coming from you now being your uneven breathing.

What was he doing?

His yellow eye glanced over to your face, and he found that you weren't even looking at him. You were gazing in the direction of the night sky, where the light of the moon shown down on you like a spotlight, but it didn't even seem like you were even looking at that. Your eyes were wide as you breathed hard, and Uvo had to wonder if you were currently seeing your life flash before your eyes. That perhaps your mind had accepted that this was the end of your life and was remembering as much as you could before Uvogin would sink in his teeth and sever those major arteries in your neck.

Were you satisfied with all that you had accomplished up to this point, or were you disappointed and felt that you should have done more?

Moments passed like that, his hulking form engulfing yours with no movement from either of you. He took in a deep breath, and he once again caught some of the flowery smell of your shampoo, though it had largely faded by now, and you smelled much more like the woods after the hours you had spent there. More like pine and tree leaves, and the fresh water of the lake, and....

Uvogin let out a short grunt that made you whimper and you clenched your eyes shut as you believed this to be the end. You had no clue that Uvo could smell your arousal coming from between your legs. It had come from the way you'd been fooling around with your boyfriend earlier – there was no way you could have been turned on by this.

Uvo thought again of what he had seen when he stumbled upon the two of you, and that odd thought that had interjected at one point. You had been on his mind almost all day, and he thought it was because he wanted to kill you. And now you were beneath him and the moment couldn't have been more right, and yet now that was the last thing he wanted to do.

It hit him then. The different urge he'd had about you since he had seen you earlier in the day, since he had seen the way you treated your boyfriend; the way you had kissed that man had stuck out in his mind. Hardly any different than any other couple he had seen who were too big on PDA, yet combined with the way you had first come up to him, had smiled and thanked him, and introduced yourself so willingly while also asking for his name had made all of the difference in the world.

His days in the woods were lonely. It was something Uvo was well aware of but had thought he could handle, and he had done so for several years now without issue. But now that he knew you, with your actions and your touch and even the sweet scent of your arousal that he wished more and more that he had been the cause of, another second of being alone sounded more like torture.

Still, the biggest reason he had stayed on his own for so long was that he had accepted that there would be few in this world who would be alright with spending the rest of their lives with a man-eating monster. And any that he may have wanted to keep alive despite that probably wouldn't have been worth the trouble. Keeping someone else with him would also mean he would need to put in the effort to keep them alive, and if he had them unwillingly he'd need to make sure they wouldn't be able to get away, either by restraining them or locking them up.

He watched you, watched the way your face stayed scrunched up as you waited for him to finish it. He wanted you, but were you worth the trouble?

When Uvogin pulled off of your neck and sat back up, you meekly opened your eyes in confusion and trying to anticipate what horrible thing he would do to you next. You yelped when he grabbed you by the back of your shirt as he stood, pulling you up to your feet and setting you in front of him. With one hand on your shoulder and one on your hip, he turned you so you were facing away from him, making sure you were steady on your feet.

He leaned down so his maw was right next to your ear, and in a voice that sounded more animal than human, he growled out a single word:

“Run.”

With that he pushed you forward. You stumbled a bit, your brain still processing what he had said as you barely took a few steps away from him. Then, like a lightning bolt had hit you, you finally seemed to understand as you snapped back and made a beeline for the woods. Your bare feet were loud on the cluttered forest floor, and he occasionally heard little gasps and soft whimpers of pain when you cut your foot open further on a rock or a sharp branch.

Uvo waited, wanting to give you a good head start before he began to chase after you. It would be easy to track you, especially with how much you were bleeding now, but he shuddered with barely contained excitement, eager to chase you down but knowing that he needed to give you a decent head start or else it would be over too quickly.

If you proved yourself worthy of keeping alive, then he'd take you back to his cabin.

And he really hoped you wouldn't let him down.

…. But then something felt wrong.

Uvogin's eyes narrowed as he sensed that you were still within the immediate area and not moving away from him as he had expected. The direction you had gone in was the same one the both of you had come from; the patch of woods and the clearing where he'd found you in the pathway. There wasn't anything there that you could have fallen over or gotten stuck on, so why....

A new thought occurred to him, and Uvo growled lowly to himself as he hoped he wouldn't see what he felt he might when he found you next.

You were back in that clearing, sitting next to your boyfriend's fallen body. Your body was facing the direction Uvo had arrived from, both of your hands in front of you as looked down at your now former lover. There were tears rolling down your cheeks as you sat there.

A wave of disgust hit Uvogin as he found he was correct and was thoroughly disappointed with your actions. He'd given you a chance to get away and you'd wasted it by sitting around crying. Clearly he had given you too much credit.

You heard him as he began to walk towards you, and he noted the way your hands slipped beneath your boyfriend's slightly upturned body, your head still downcast.

He stood across from you, letting out a huff that made you flinch. But still, you didn't move from that spot.

As he opened his jaws your head shot up and you lifted your hands from beneath the body.

Just as you did so, something sprayed into his nose, eyes and his open mouth. Something that stung and made him gag. Fuck it burned, and Uvogin let out a howl of pain as he clutched at his face.

The bear spray-!

Something sharp then dug into the flesh beneath his collarbone, and the pain from the bitter spray was accompanied by the sensation of a knife blade stabbing into him.

With another howl as he was now blinded, he swiped a hand in your general direction and heard you yelp as he simultaneously clawed your shoulder and forced you to the ground. With his hearing now being his greatest sense, he managed to pick up the clatter the bear spray can made as the force of his blow made you drop it, and he moved one of his feet to stomp at it, crushing it and making it useless.

Uvo roared again as he swung about wildly, trying to catch you once more, but you managed to avoid his attacks and made your way into the woods again as he heard your labored breathing and footsteps growing fainter and fainter.

He clutched at his face as he tried to make himself calm down, trying to will away the pain and regain his sense of sight and smell.

…. Not bad.

Even with the rage he had felt in the moment, he found himself relieved, almost happy that you had caught him off-guard. You had gone as far as to use your boyfriend's body as a prop, to make him think that you were too broken up about his death so he would lower his guard. Had you been a bit taller, you could have done a decent amount of damage if you'd managed to stab the knife into his throat.

The knife was still in him, he realized, and after regaining a little bit of his sight in his left eye, he easily pulled it out and threw it across the way.

Now you had no weapons, but he was also at a disadvantage as his eyes were still watering and he could no longer smell you as clearly, the harsh chemicals of the spray making him internally wince every time he breathed through his nose. If he wanted to catch you, he would need to rely almost entirely on his hearing to search for you.

The sounds you were making were quite distant now, but he grinned to himself and stayed there a while longer, letting you get further away.

The direction you were going had no civilization, there was only forest for miles, and he was happy to let you get yourself more and more lost if it meant that his hunt would continue.

By the time dawn was nearing, signaled by the sickly pale color the sky had turned to, Uvogin had managed to chase you further into the wilderness, up through the trees and near the edge of a cliff face. Throughout the night there had been times where you had slowed or stopped completely as you tried to regain your strength, taking advantage of your smaller size and slipping into places that he couldn't easily get to. You also had several brief spurts of energy where you had sped up suddenly, more determined than ever to get away from him while you threw various stones and branches back towards him, though you never tried anything else as bold as you had with your trick from earlier as you didn't allow him to get that close again.

But as you stumbled to the edge of the cliff and looked at the steep drop before you, it was clear to him that your fight was gone. He knew it even before you fell to your knees on the sharp rock. The chase had ended, and just in time, as daylight would be here soon, and when that came he would revert back to his human form.

It had been one of the most memorable hunts he'd had in years, and even though your will had been broken in the process, by now he was certain that he wanted to keep you. To have a little partner in his solitary life, someone to keep his bed warm and wait for him to return home in the evenings. The scenario was nice to think about, and he especially liked the idea of you cuddling up to him during the colder months of the year, trying to keep yourself warm with his body heat to fight the chilly air that would sneak inside. Maybe eventually he'd get you to give him sweet tokens of affection like you'd given to your boyfriend, perhaps a kiss on the cheek before he went out to hunt.

And maybe every once in a while, if you were still insistent on putting up a fight, Uvo might let you out during a full moon and make you think you had a chance to escape, just so he could hunt you down and drag you back to his little home in the woods.

The thought of it gave him chills, and he wondered how long he would need to wait before he could let you out.

You were lightly swaying in place as you looked to the ground below while Uvo was consumed in the thoughts he had about you. He assumed that you were just waiting for him to finish it – your willpower was dried up, and there was no way you would try to run around him or do anything as stupid as try to climb down the cliff face.

He had no clue where your thoughts had taken you in that moment.

Realization shot through him when he saw your shoulders sag and your body began to fall forward over the edge.

Uvo rushed forward and grabbed you by your shoulder before you fell off and he threw you back, a good distance further and far rougher than he had been intending, as you wailed weakly when you hit the ground.

If you were willing to kill yourself to escape him, he'd need to wait some time before letting you run about the woods again.

By now, you were covered in dirt and blood and whatever else had stuck to you from the forest while you had run from him. Your skin was covered in cuts that he and the forest had given you and it would likely be some time before you would be able to properly walk again based off of the state of your feet. When he approached you once more, you clenched your eyes shut again. By now you were past the point of tears and just waited for him to finish you off.

You jolted at the feeling of his fur brushing against your skin when straddled you once more, but just as before, the killing blow you were expecting never came. You opened one eye, and just as you did so, the first rays of the sun shone over the landscape beyond and hit Uvogin.

You watched in silent horror as the fur that covered him caught on fire and began to burn. He was briefly consumed by the flames before they vanished into puffs of smoke. His bones were snapping again, breaking into pieces and retracting back into their normal size while his muscles and skin rippled and shrunk back down, tightening around his fingers as the claws also retracted and vanished beneath the skin. As his wolf face broke apart and reformed, there was a look of shock in your eyes as you saw the beast on top of you become more and more human. And that shock soon turned into a realization when you found that you recognized the man who was on top of you.

His transformation back to his human form was over in a matter of seconds, and when it was over and his green eyes looked back down at you, you stuttered as you tried to find your voice.

“U-Uvogin?” you asked weakly.

He grinned, pleased that you had remembered his name.

Without another word, Uvo leaned down over you so he could begin the process of properly claiming you as his.

[crinkle-eyed-boo]

I was tagged by @disgruntledkittenface and @laynefaire to share five fics of mine that I really like. Thank you!!! I was telling Maggie that I had been hesitant to do this meme since I really only have...five fics when you exclude time stamps folded into series, but then SHE was like “You always have things to say about them, so why SHOULDN’T you do it?” And you know what? She’s right. So here you go. My five fics.  

Own the Scars (144K)

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

Looking back, I can’t believe I had the guts to post THIS after being a lurker in the fandom for years, both because of the length and the subject matter. Rehab! Tomlinshaw! Slow burn Larry! It was GUTSY. I had only JUST started actively interacting with the fandom in the six months before I published. Absolutely no one knew me. I was incredibly lucky to meet people who had bigger followings when I went to Harry’s show at the Ryman and they boosted my fic posts and got the story out there. None of them are overly active in the fandom still, but they eternally have my gratitude. I posted this one in CHUNKS, if you can believe it. I did it to try and organically build an audience for the fic, and of course, for the drama. 

Finally, this fic wouldn’t exist if Maggie hadn’t said “Yes” when I asked her if she thought I could turn this screenplay I had written back in college into a Larry fic. Thank you for showing me how to write in the present tense, Marshmallow. I never want to write without you. 

There’s Such a Lot of World to See (125K) 

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Harry asks, thumbing at Louis’ hip. “Like what?” Louis asks breathlessly. “Like you’ve seen a ghost or summat,” Harry muses. “You did it all the time the other day and you did it just now.” Louis swallows hard, studying him intently. “You remind me of someone,” Louis says softly, tucking a curl behind Harry’s ear. “Someone I lost.”

Louis has seen a great many things throughout his travels in time and space, but only one he can’t explain: He keeps meeting the same boy, who says the same thing to him each time. The boy should be impossible.

Maybe he is.

A love story that defies the boundaries of space and time. Doctor Who AU.

To this day, I can’t believe I wrote this in six months, right after publishing OTS. For me, this one is the very definition of writing the fic YOU want to read. I adore this fic. I re-read it recently and CRIED even though I fucking wrote it. Doctor!Louis is probably my favorite Louis I’ve ever written. I am forever proud of all the action scenes and how alive they feel. Louis literally coming regeneration energy in the smut scene is something I consider part of my writing legacy. I know this one requires a big buy-in right away, but I’ve been so proud of how many non-Doctor Who fans have taken a chance on this one. Here I am, once again, begging you to give this one a shot if you haven’t. 

Let Our Hearts Collide (76K)

When Harry, a lonely transit worker, saves the life of the handsome commuter he's been secretly pining for, an innocent mistake results in Liam Payne's family believing that Harry is engaged to their son. In the Paynes, Harry finds the big family he's always longed for...and a love he never saw coming.

A While You Were Sleeping AU

I think my favorite thing about adaptation is that you get to dig deeper on themes that already exist in the movie/TV show but the script doesn’t allow time to fully explore them. While You Were Sleeping is not just a love story, it’s a story about finding your family and Let Our Hearts Collide became a story about pulling yourself up out of the darkest of times. I’ll always be grateful for the amount of emotional labor Maggie put into this one as we explored Harry’s sense of grief and loneliness. This one taught ME a lot, and this Harry is 100% my favorite Harry I’ve ever written. 

No Bunny But You (13K) 

“So you saw the bunnies then?” Harry clarifies, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, those were a bit of a surprise,” Liam huffs. “I mean, they definitely weren’t part of what we commissioned from him, but they’re kind of cute, right?” Harry sputters a laugh. “What?” Liam asks, the furrow in his brow deepening. “They are cute little bunnies!” “Cute little bunnies that are fucking,” Harry snickers. “What?” Liam gasps. “Liam,” Harry says, trying to school his face into a serious expression. “Those bunnies are fucking.”

A slow Monday night behind the bar turns into something else entirely thanks to a new mural and a new customer.

I was SO BLOCKED after finishing Let Our Hearts Collide until I saw this mural on the bar around the corner from my office at the time and the fic practically wrote itself. It’s fun, it’s sexy, and I still can’t believe Harry liked it so much he designed all of his tour merch around it. ;-) 

Mine Would Be You (114K) 

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

There’s not much to say about this one that I haven’t said before. Mine Would Be You was a true labor of love, and it taught me that if you have a story to tell, it will make its way out of you eventually. I came up with the concept in my mid 20s but think I wasn’t ready to write this one until I had lived a little bit more, had my heart broken a little (a lot) more, and come to terms with my own artistic journey, as someone who always dreamed of making it as an actor, and as someone who gave up that dream because that’s how life goes sometimes. It’s a story I couldn’t have written without making peace with my 25 year old self. It’s a story that I could not have written without the lessons I had learned from all the stories I had written before it. It’s a story that, in my heart of hearts, I believe ended up manifesting my current job. Sometimes, I still feel like I’m recovering from writing this one, 2 years later. I gave everything I have to this fic, and I’m just so fucking grateful that it comes through on the page. 

Who hasn’t done this already? @uhoh-but-yeah-alright @greenfeelings @absoloutenonsense​ @twopoppies​ @indiaalphawhiskey​ sorry if you have and I just haven’t seen it! 

[thefledglingdm]

Umm can I request directors commentary for literally any Leopika fic you’ve written??? Love your stuff!

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

ahhahaha thank you so much! yes, absolutely! this is going to be long, because i have decided to do that scene in light of my life, pain of my ass. beware LONG BULLSHIT and spoilers below the cut!

ok to set the scene. i was TERRIFIED to write this part. because this is the climax, you know? we've had 150k words of build-up and emotional tension to this scene. while this has been a romantic story, this is the actual climax of the story. we've spent all this time in kurapika's head as he's dealt with his anxiety, his need for control, his fear of letting go. how he's changed as he's opened up his heart and his life to people outside. and finally he's actually working through all of his emotions and the progress he's made out loud, in front of everyone. and because he forgot about giving his speech until like five minutes before (sorry, kp), he is forced to speak from the heart.

For five agonizing seconds, Kurapika stood alone in the middle of a silent room. Above him, the string lights coalesced into a single shared point of soft white light that illuminated his space.

i so wish this could be adapted to, like, netflix or made into a movie. i put so much into this imagery. the play on light? the cinnamon topography? *chef's kiss* yes please netflix CALL ME.

Everyone in his life was staring at him expectantly, Pairo and Altair and Gon and Killua and Nanika and Alluka and Kalluto and his parents. And approximately a hundred other people on top of that, extended family on both sides, industry insiders, coworkers. All staring at him and waiting for him to say something amazing and powerful and deep about love and what did Kurapika know about love, anyway? He was a thirty-two year old trans man so terrified of his own emotions, so paralyzed by his fear of loss, that he did not figure out he was in love with his best friend until three weeks ago.

this is me screwing the knife in deeper for poor kurapika, sorry. this is so incredibly horrifying for a person with anxiety, as someone with anxiety. behold, the terrifying ordeal of being known.

Five seconds. Kurapika finally found Leorio standing near the back, leaning against the bar. He wondered if Leorio picked the same spot where they sat together the very first time they came here on purpose. Leorio sent him a wink and a thumbs-up.

the terrifying ordeal of being known and being so, so loved anyway. it was great to write in a way that showed leorio realized he was in love with kurapika first (indeed, realized that kurapika was in love with him before kurapika knew himself), because these little interactions shows so much how leorio is inviting and allowing kurapika to come to him on his own time. and supporting him the whole way, because they are friends!!!!

Breathe, Kurapika thought. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay.

this statement was not supposed to be a running theme/motif, but i'm super glad it did! i wrote it as a one-off line for melody, but then i was like, hang on, that's kinda good? every other time i write i'm like, hey, you could make a theme out of this!

“Um,” Kurapika started, his voice cracking. Christ, he sounded seventeen again. He cleared his throat.

my friends told me about how their voices changed and dropped on T. any trans person is stronger and more powerful than any us marine.

“For those of you who may not know, I’m Pairo’s brother. Kurapika. His older one, just to be clear.”

this is definitely something that has happened like a hundred times.

There was a smattering of chuckles around the room. He twisted to look at Pairo. “I’ve known Pairo since he was a toddler dragging a ragged, threadbare T-Rex plushie around behind him. I was there when he read his first chapter book on his own – Dino Hunter, of course – because he came bursting into my room at two o’clock in the morning to tell me about it.” Another round of laughter. “I was there when he got his first notebook, when he won his first writing contest, when he was published in his first magazine. I was the first person he told about liking boys instead of girls. I’ve watched him grow and learn and fall in love. And now Altair is part of our family, too.”

pairo and kurapika's lives as brothers were amazing. dino hunter is a reference to the book they both read in the manga that led to kurapika wanting to leave the kurta and explore the world.

i also thought that writing fit pairo well because it's a pretty accessible career for his eyes. he could type, he could enhance the screen and font when he needed, and he could do talk-to-type. one day i want to write a side-story of when pairo and altair met, because i have it perfectly formulated in my head and it's adorable.

Kurapika took a deep breath, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. He confessed, “To be perfectly honest, I was scared when Pairo asked me to do this, because I’ve run out of things to teach him. He’s run on ahead of me in life. Settled down, moved in with his boyfriend – now husband, congratulations on that by the way – and gotten married, while I’m perpetually single and living alone in my loft apartment with an absolutely spoiled monster of a cat. Stop laughing, that wasn’t supposed to be a joke.”

emperor the cat was also not intended to be a character. i came up with him like, right before i started writing the chapter.

i think it was hard for kurapika to watch his brother fall in love and move on ahead in life. even if he was genuinely happy for them both. i had a conversation with a coworker a few months ago where we both talked about how we feel like we are "behind," even though we're both very accomplished. she felt like she was "behind" because i have a master's degree; i felt like i was "behind" because she was happily married and already had a child on the way (who is here and beautiful and perfect). and i imagine kurapika wondered if he was falling behind or missing something when he saw his brother succeed in love and business without really trying.

but there's no competition at all, of course. the world spins on, and we grow and change and find our place in our own time. there's no race.

The room quieted again. Kurapika went on, his eyes flicking over the crowd. He was starting to smile, too, now.

he's starting to realize this is okay, he's not going to mess up, he may actually have something worthwhile to say or share. he's getting more comfortable in all this.

“But I’m also a wedding planner – I know, ironic – and I’ve learned a lot about love from my clients. So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to share some of those lessons now.”

No one from the back shouted at him to shut the fuck up, that he didn’t have a single clue what he was talking about, so he thought he was safe to carry on.

how funny would that have been??? like, it would have been fucked-up and humiliating, but in any other situation?? hilarious. just killua looking like that dude in mean girls being like HE DOESN'T EVEN GO HERE except it's like HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT LOVE IS.

He thought back to Light of My Life’s various couples, musing over their own rocky paths to the altar and the beautiful, fractured glimpses into their lives they gifted Kurapika and his team. What did they teach him? What did they teach his heart, that terrifying, terrified lump of meat frantically beating in his chest?

More than you think, his heart seemed to be telling him. Trust me; I will guide you through this. Trust me, trust me, trust me.

*"listen to your heart" plays in the background*

also like. trusting oneself and your perceptions and your feelings and your heart is so necessary. it's an important part of healing. and being honest with yourself and your feelings is part of a foundation for all healthy relationships, i think.

also i really like writing alliteratively. the play on words with "terrifying, terrified" was. inspired? terrifying, because kurapika for a long time feared his own heart and feelings, viewing them as a loss of control; and terrified, because his heart is afraid, too. and they are taking this leap together!

And Kurapika explained: “Love isn’t just found in eloquent professions or grand, romantic gestures. It’s supporting each other through your lowest, worst moments and coming out the other side stronger for it. It’s standing together, hand in hand, against the world. It’s in looking at someone simply existing in the world and seeing them as they are: good, beautiful, strong, intelligent, kind. It’s in your communication and your foundation and trusting that all good things will come together in time. It’s in the family that you build together. It’s in the work you each put in to get through the hard times. Together.”

me: yeah uh-huh jj you really did summarize the fic so far.

this is also where i started being sappy and thinking about love. friendly and romantic love. the love i've seen in my friends, the love i feel myself in my relationships.

There. That’s what his clients taught him. Menchi and Buhara; Morena and Theta; Pokkle and Ponzu; Knov and Morel; Knuckle and Shoot; Canary and Amane. But so many more people showed him what love was. He pictured Pairo and Altair on his couch, laughing at him and judging him and helping him put his own puzzle-piece heart together into something cohesive and beautiful. He smiled at his brothers and saw the way they were clutching each others hands, mouths beaming and eyes dewy.

they LOVE their brother so MUCH. their view of the outside looking in for the past year, watching kurapika fall in love, go soft, be happier than they've ever seen him.

He told them, “It’s in the way you can communicate in gestures and looks, and sometimes, without looking at all. It’s in banter and private jokes and finishing each other’s sentences. It’s in casual touches and... pouring their coffee before your own.”

my coffee is never as good as when my partner makes it. my honey-lemon tea is never as good as it is when my partner makes it. my jokes are never as funny as they are when my partner and i finish each other's sentences, build off of each other's quips. we can communicate across rooms with nothing but a look. these little signs of love are everywhere and expressed in so many tiny ways. these examples here are between people in romantic relationships, but these apply to platonic friendships as well.

His eyes swept the room and found Killua and Gon. Gon had his camera hefted onto one shoulder, and Killua stood behind him, arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder. “It’s on the first day you wake up and realize the way you look at the world has changed. The way you open your hands and your heart and give what you have, simply for the joy of being received.”

to love? transcendent. to be loved? incandescent. to love and know that it is valued and cherished and requited?

and this was a callback to killua talking about, of course, how he fell in love with gon like melting ice. like sinking into a bath. and this was also a quieter callback to how gon fell in love. because it wasn't just that he had/has so much love to give, but because for the first time in his life, he got to see it truly received. accepted.

Kurapika saw Killua’s breath catch and Gon’s hand flex over the fingers interlaced over his middle. Heedless of their surroundings and of the running camera, Gon twisted to kiss Killua on the mouth.

SMOOCHES ahahaha!

He turned his head back to Leorio. The man had not moved; indeed, he looked like he was nailed to the floor. His eyes were so intense as they watched him that Kurapika was almost surprised he had not yet burst into flame. Kurapika said, “It’s in the moment you see someone you’ve never met before, but you look at them and just know, to your core, that this is really going to be something.”

leorio realizing something is happening here. something huge is about to happen, is about to change. and he's trying so hard not to dare to hope it might be good. it might be everything.

A chorus of oohs went around the room. Even from this distance Kurapika saw the way Leorio’s face went red, and he ducked his chin, looking bashful and embarrassed.

leorio: holy shit holy shit holy SHIT IT'S HAPPENINGGGG

How was I such a fool before, Kurapika wondered, How was I so blind, so willfully ignorant and oblivious. How did it take me so long to realize you were talking about me. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I’m sorry I made you wait for so long.

this is important because it's not just kurapika realizing and accepting his feelings for leorio. this is kurapika's version of realizing that leorio feels the same for him. leorio is in love with him, too. and he's wondering how it was possible he was so scared and blind for so long. he fears he may have hurt leorio by holding off on this for so long, so he wants to be brave, take the leap, and see what they could be.

Kurapika did not want this man to wait another second. He did not want Leorio to spend another moment trapped in this limbo. So he confessed in the middle of a silent room in front of over a hundred people, “It's the first time you hear them laugh, and your entire world’s axis shifts beneath your feet.”

i remember the first time i met my partner. i remember the first time i looked at them and felt my world shift a little to the right. i remember falling in love and thinking that this one was unlike all the others. it was warm, golden, comforting.

Kurapika watched the confused frown on Leorio’s face when he heard that, amused by the almost puppyish tilt to his head as he considered it. He knew the moment Leorio realized what he meant when his eyes blew wide, amazed and awed and achingly soft. His lips parted.

gOD he is so CUTE. he's like oh hmm huh what does that mean

and then he remembers

i promise, he's not a huge dickwad!

and leorio laughing at gon's accidental gaffe and his sweet earnestness. and kurapika walking in. leorio realizing kurapika wanted to know him before they ever even met.

Kurapika made himself turn away from the arresting sight. “One of my favorite venues lately was the Roseview Ballroom downtown. Among its many beautiful, gaudy attractions are its murals depicting scenes from Shakespeare’s plays all across the ceiling. One is a famous quote from Twelfth Night: ‘journeys end in lovers meeting, every wise man’s son doth know.’ But the more I think about it, the less I agree.”

i'm such a WHORE for shakespeare, as any readers of mine will know. check out my modern college adaptation of much ado about nothing.

He turned to meet Pairo’s eyes again, repeating, “‘Journeys end in lovers meeting.’ But nothing is ending here. It’s just changing.”

life does not end when we start relationships! or when they end! or when we move, change jobs, graduate, go to school, drop out of school. happy endings in stories still aren't endings. the greatest constant in life is change.

“Because what I’ve learned in this job, Pairo and Altair, what nugget of wisdom I have to give you, is this. Love is looking at a world that can be terrifying, cold, capricious, and indifferent, and finding the person whose hand you want to hold through it all anyway. Because you want every laugh, every tear, every wrinkle, every spark of joy. Love is life’s greatest leap of faith, because you don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But you know exactly who you want to spend all those tomorrows with.”

me finishing this: dammit i just wrote out my wedding vows.

Kurapika looked around the room again. At Gon and Killua; at Kalluto, Nanika, and Alluka; at his parents; at his brothers. At Leorio.

He concluded, “So you simply breathe. And you trust it will be okay.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when Kurapika dropped the microphone.

DAMN ME TOO THIS SHIT WAS GOOD TF?????? sorry my writing has peaked here.

[atsunflower]

Hospital for souls — The Line

Rated: SFW

Author note: I gotta nothing to say. This took me really long and I struggled a lot to write it. Thanks for being patient with me. Also, big shoutout to @neonghxst, who helped me a lot with this one. I love you bby 💕

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of anxiety and this chapter contains gore towards the end.

IV — The line

Previous || Next

"I don't wanna go" Your voice showed distaste at the invitation.

Since the fight with Sakusa, you avoided all human contact like the plague. The only ones that talked to you were the maids and, occasionally, Komori, who had warmed up to you since you saved his ass — to be honest, you weren't very fond of his change of character.

"Listen, you're the new lady of this household." Komori explained in a tired manner."This gala is held every year in some sort of diplomatics, to grant no family crosses the line. All the important members must make a presence."

"Yeah, but I'm sure no one cares if I don't show up." You deadpanned looking at his face.

"It's just a fancy ass party. I'll take you to get a dress myself, but I gotta run some errands and find a suit too. If I'm late, then Izuna will take you." Komori saw you stiffening when you heard the name. Ever since you arrived in Itachiyama, Izuna was the most hostile towards you. "Hey, don't worry about him... He'll be nice."

"I gotta remind you that no one has been nice to me since I came here, Komori-san." You stated the obvious and the male before you grimaced.

"Look, we're not as bad as you think. Neither we are some sort of low life criminals, you know." His voice sent shivers down your spine. The hazel-haired man has been treating you better, yes, but you could tell the words you said to Sakusa that day affected him too.

"Yeah. But you all did nothing to prove me wrong." You stared at his eyes, the sincere tone meaning each world "If anything, all you did was make me miserable even though I'm not a threat. And you know it." You saw when the hazel haired male shook his head, face softening a little.

"I'll be back in a few." And then, Komori left. 

To your relief, it was Komori himself who showed up at your bedroom door. Now, you were at some boutique somewhere in the fancy side of Shibuya, trying a beautiful strappy off-white dress.

You loved how the silky cloth hugged your body and how the pearly color complimented your skin tone. Definitely, it was the propper gown for an event as important as a mafia gala.

Taking in the figure reflected in the mirror, you recalled the last time you wore something so fancy was at your wedding. Suddenly, you felt ugly — after all, you were a woman of surgical scrubs and white coats. Wearing something like this dress was a reminder of what kind of life you were living now.

"[Name]-san, have you decided?" Komori asked with an undecipherable look on his face. 

"Ah, yes, I'm taking this one" You said to the salesperson, already getting back to the changing room.

From the inside, you heard a knock on the door. It was Komori.

"[Name], are you good?" He asked in a soft spoken manner, as if he was concerned.

You know it's not the case, don't let your guard down, you reminded yourself.

"Yes, Komori-san. Are we ready to go?" He hummed in agreement, saying he was going to do the payment.

The two of you had yet to arrive in Itachiyama. The silence was heavy inside the car and you could see the man opening his mouth as if he was trying to say something.

"I never asked, did you see a doctor?" You started, breaking the unnerving atmosphere.

"Ah, yes. I'm all good, no sequels or whatever." He cleared his throat, side-glancing at you "Those guys took us by surprise that night, huh? We were lucky you were there to help us out." You hummed, staring at his elbow, as if you could see through the material of his jacket.

"I shouldn't have opened your arm that way. It was really irresponsible of me to do it and it was a miracle things ended up well."You said in a reflecting manner.

Does she regret saving me?, Komori couldn't help but wonder.

"The doctor I saw said the surgery was perfectly executed, so don't beat yourself over it. Besides, I can see the passion you have. You'd make it right anyways." The male said truthfully and you frowned. You didn't want his trust because he would never have yours.

You also didn't like the appreciative tone he used. A doctor isn't a hero, You reminded yourself everyday, to never let it go to your head.

"I'm passionate, but it's about my personal ethics, you don't need passion to be good at what you do. I think you know it very well." You still frowned, not liking what he implied. You never wanted to be some sort of hero, much less to someone like him. 

"Yeah, I don't need to love the yakuza to be good at it. But I don't think a passionless person would make a good doctor." He argued, trying to prove his point.

"In my line of work, a mistake costs your whole career. Passionless and unethical people exist everywhere, a hospital isn't a sanctuary." You said matter of factly — it wasn't about the romantic lenses people saw the health workers. After all, medicine was a field made majorly of people with the means and the money. You learned it the hard way when you made into med school.

"Why would you say that?" The traffic light signalled to stop. The Kobun used this opportunity to take in your figure, eyes roaming over your crossed arms and unfazed features.

Duty takes a toll in everyone, huh?, He internally stated.

"Because I know someone. And as passionless someone could be, he's still the best at what he does." And Komori didn't miss the feeling displayed in your eyes.

It wasn't merely passion. Something deeper resided in those irises of yours.

An awkward silence overtook the atmosphere as the car resumed its movement. He felt uncomfortable, trying to figure out what you meant.

"Well, what matters is that everything ended up well. Who would have guessed they would attack us that night?" Komori conceded, trying to break the unsettling quietness.

"Yeah, this whole yakuza thing is really scary." You said looking through the tinted window, a pensive look in your face.

"You'll get used to it. And it doesn't happen on a daily basis either" He brushed you off, turning in a curb.

"Yeah, but ignoring the threat isn't an easy task." You retorted, tiredly.

"How do you know it? Besides, since you're our lady, it's not like we'll let  something happen to you." The brunette said, in hopes of comforting you. It had the opposite effect, as a silent rage ran down your body.

"Komori-san, how do I know?" You bitterly laughed "My whole life, I was at the line. My mother didn't want me to be born, Inarizaki wanted my head since I was in the womb and you guys will get rid of me at any given opportunity." You saw him opening his mouth to argue "Your household won't protect me if the order comes from Sakusa." 

As if in a cue, the car approached the gates of Itachiyama. Komori was rendered speechless, knowing you were right.

Personally, you weren't one to offend people and make them feel bad. You couldn't help the pang in your chest every time you exploded at any of them. But by god, were you tired.

I just want my life back, you thought. After all, it was infinite times easier to be a target when you were somehow detached from the life inside the families. The Kobun said something you paid no mind to.

Banging the car door shut, you ignored his calling.

The nagging feeling was a constant in his life.

Roaming through his memories, he could never pinpoint a time he felt comfortable under his skin. He was too anxious and life never treated him kindly to do so.

Maybe he overreacted a lot, too. But it wasn't his fault he had to be hyper aware of his surroundings.

The alert state was essential in an ambience full of people who could stab him in the back.

Fuck the diplomatics, he cursed.

It was one of those nights he hated the most. The suntuous ballroom was full of people going back and forth, bragging about futilities and throwing insincere flattery at each other. All because the ever so generous Karasuno was hosting a dinner at The Crow to assure no one disturbs the deal between the families.

Bullshit, he thought. It's only Karasuno trying to show off their influence over this frail peace.

And, as much as he appreciated said peace, he hated how everyone faked they got along with each other.

Not that he cared about politeness either. And his signature scowl did nothing to keep people away. After all, everyone wanted a piece of Itachiyama.

"Kiyoomi." The ravenette heard the deep voice from his back. A wave of relief washed over him.

At least, Wakatoshi-kun is here. I won't die from boredom, He mused.

"Wakatoshi." He responded, nodding at the other. From outside Itachiyama, Ushijima was the only one Sakusa considered a friend.

"I thought you wouldn't come tonight, I know you don't really like the crowd."

"People would find weird if I didn't, considering Inarizaki and everything."

"Speaking of which, did you bring your wife?" Ushijima asked, looking around. Sakusa nodded before speaking.

"Yeah, she went to the restrooms. Komori is with her." And speaking of the devil, you came into view.

He knew you had a fine taste for things, and he would be a fool to say you didn't look good tonight. But he would never admit it.

A Miya isn't worth you time, he repeated it like a mantra, observing as you made your way onto him.

Komori enthusiastically greeted Ushijima and you merely nodded out of politeness, looking at the bulky male with caution. Given Ushijima's intimidating vibes, Sakusa couldn't really blame you.

"I see you're Sakusa's wife. I'm Ushijima Wakatoshi." He offered his hand at you "It's a pleasure to meet you"

"Likewise, Ushijima-san" You introduced yourself as the Oyabun of Itachiyama watched the scene unfold before him, recalling how his friend was the blunt and introverted type. He couldn't help but admire the way the two of you conversed smoothly; earning Ushijima's sympathy required effort. You did it with ease.

"She's a good woman." Sakusa didn't see when your conversation died down and Ushijima turned to him. He found himself dumbfounded at the other's statement.

"She's a Miya"

"She worked with Shirabu. He spoke highly of her" A waiter passed by offering them whiskey. The rich scent of Yamazaki reached his nostrils as he drank it, throat used to the burning sensation "And you know he's not one to lie."

"Still…" His retort was halted when he felt the weight of a gaze on him. In the far corner of the room, none other than Oikawa Tooru had all his attention turned to the general direction of you all "What is he looking at?" He squinted at the brunette's direction, trying to make out his intentions.

"He seems to be looking at your wife" Ushijima bluntly spoke "But don't worry about him, Oikawa may have his reasons. He is a reliable man, after all."

"You're indeed soft today. What happened?" The other opened his mouth to respond before being interrupted by a startled voice.

Your husband was doing a good job ignoring you while speaking to Ushijima — you wouldn't complain, since you didn't want any of his attention.

Listening to Komori speaking wonders of the whiskey he was drinking, you felt a little at ease. You imagined the gala to be much scarier than this, but all you could see was snotty people too full of themselves. It was almost comical hearring them bragging about things you couldn't even dream of.

"This is a 25 years old Yamazaki. It's a favorite of mine and Kiyoomi—"

"Is this real life?" A surprised voice cutted Komori's middle sentence.

Before you, a handsome man looked appalled, staring at you with an emotion you couldn't identify. You were feeling uncomfortable as everyone around you was paying attention to your interaction.

"I'm sorry, sir. But am I supposed to know you?" You asked, in hopes to remember if you knew him by any chance. He beamed brightly at you.

"Of course you wouldn't remember me!" And he laughed again, earning a frown from your husband.

"Do you have any business to do with my wife?" Sakusa's cold-steel voice asked. The pretty man ignored it. And, at this point, everyone in the area stopped their actions, watching the scene with interest.

"I'm Oikawa Tooru, the Oyabun of Seijoh. Two years ago, you saved my nephew's life in an accident at the Dinosaur Bridge, only using a needle. After it, you held his hand until the ambulance came." The man bowed deeply, and only now you noticed he was accompanied by another spiky-haired male, who was also bowing at you. Observing them, you faintly remembered saving a little boy in a traffic accident a couple of years ago "For that, I'll be forever thankful. In return, I wanted to say you have Seijoh's gratitude whenever you need it." He stood tall again, staring at you dead in the eye to confirm he meant every single word he said.

You were speechless.

"I… sir, I'm thankful, but I did what had to be done. You don't owe me anything." You said uncertainly, glancing at the startled faces of both Komori and Sakusa. Ushijima looked fondly at you, as if he knew something.

"You had a choice that day, and you choosed to help us when we couldn't do anything. And it's enough for us to pay you back." The spiky-haired man said. It was rare for someone to address you with so much respect and sincerity. You appreciated it wholeheartedly.

"I— thank you." And you bowed at them, trying to show your gratitude to both males.

"Well, we won't disturb you anymore. Please have a good night" The Oikawa guy said, handing you a business card which you secluded inside your clutch.

"See?" You heard Ushijima saying, but you were too stunned to register it.

You didn't have time to process the event, as someone announced the dinner was about to be served.

"Seijoh's favour, huh? You sure are skyrocketing this mafia thing." Suna said, sitting on the chair on the opposite side of the table.

You all were addressed to a table with ten seats. It looked like Itachiyama was paired up with Inarizaki and another household you were yet to discover. The atmosphere was already stiff, as Sakusa kept throwing dirty glares at the twins.

"Impressive how you're doing well inside the yakuza. I thought you weren't going to last a month." Atsumu snickered as Osamu and the others ignored everything around them, getting ready for the dinner.

You mimicked their actions before Izuna joined you; you tensed seeing him taking the seat by your left.

Sakusa sat by your right, side-glancing at you. It looked like he had a newfound interest since the interaction with Oikawa earlier.

To your surprise, Seijoh was addressed to your table. Though, both Oikawa and Iwaizumi — Suna let you know his name and the fact he was also a Kobun — said nothing, sensing the tension hanging in the air.

None of the men said anything as the food started to be served. Instead, they busied themselves with the entree, keeping the smalltalk inside their household circle.

You heard Osamu saying something about the wine but you didn't register it. Soon enough, the waiters brought the main course in silver trays.

It smelled fabulous and your mouth watered at the scent.

"A lovely meal for the lady. Please enjoy it, I'm sure you won't forget this occasion." The blond waiter said, as he uncovered your plate. You took in the deep red sauce made of berries and the way the meat was perfectly cooked.

With fork and knife in hand, you went for it.

And indeed, you wouldn't forget the occasion.

Sliding the meat over the plate, you noticed it  hiding something. The scream was caught in your throat as you recognized the obnoxious structure, because years of unveiling the human anatomy would never fail you.

The cutlery clattered in the porcelain surface, spilling the sauce all over you. The white of your dress was now tainted with crimson, as if blood seeped out of your chest.

But you didn't even feel it. All you felt were hands shaking your body, trying to draw some reaction from you. The screams also came in a white noise through your ears, because all you could register was the sight before your eyes.

In the middle of the plate, a finger rested limp and dirty. Dead.

In a similar manner, you did too. 

Among the chaos, you sat there, also limp and dirty. At the end of a promise of death.

❥ tagging: @keekee-732 @chiibichann @captain-shittykawa @fortheloveofiwaizumi @daisyjaebae @jihoonspout @floodinginstars @fl4mepillar @trash4sportsanime @neonghxst @starrystanze @teaanbiss @hqxreader @yskomiii @shadyjinyoung @julimausi1311 @hyoonx23 @keuromi @differentballooncollection @onigiriimiya @wolfiepirate @sekshi-namjas @tomo-uwu @atsumusgf @letmegetthisclear @katokanae @cherryonigiri @ushijima-meixiu @bimboiiying @crownedcupcake17 @tvwhoresblog @thenerdyrebel @idiot-juice-enthusiast @caprolls @keijination   @wakaitoshi @clowninfortodoroki @shiningotak-ku @kemochie @lilacshouko @sehunosh @kiyoojima @shimy-deko @bap-kingdom @raenebalgaire @ricefarmerkita @rintarose @xanaxdeity @reiningsun

Taglist is closed (50/50)

[sopercabeth]

Coffee Cups & Terrible Liars

Hello! This is a fanfic I wrote back in 2017 when Scorpion still existed. Simpler times, I guess :-( It was originally published on my profile in FFN (@dauntlessmermaid) but I figured it was time for it to see the light of day here on Tumblr. 

If you wish to read it on FFN, click here

Summary:  "Well, he had talked to her, once. A very short, very uncomfortable conversation with his usual unfiltered self and a poorly delivered diagnosis of anemia that went just about as good as anyone would expect. " A Coffee Shop AU in which Walter is strangely fixated on a certain honey-colored haired barista and he's a little too keen on finding out why.

A/N: I do not own Scorpion or any content/characters related to the show. All rights belong to CBS :) Enjoy!

Unlike many people, Walter O'Brien found the thunderous bad weather sort of soothing. Especially given that the odds of seeing one in Los Angeles weren't very promising these days.

The surprisingly loud and rhythmic chirping of the rain drops against the roof top and the occasional thunder booming in the distance worked wonders by silencing his overloaded mind for a bit. Walter was inclined to believe that, even without his eidetic memory, the rain would always bring him back to Callan's endless green landscapes and simple lifestyle. This time instead, seeing the already flooded streets turning into rivers of dirt and all kinds garbage, he thought this thunderstorm was not really bringing back sweet childhood memories. Not that he had many of them to speak of…

The electricity had been down for almost an hour now, and even with the rain easing his mind he was beginning to feel as anxious as the blond-haired boy two tables ahead of him, who had been fidgeting with his bag since the first droplets of rain. Usually, Walter enjoyed spending time at Kovelsky's Coffee Shop; it was the most decent place to get his, and occasionally the team's, morning caffeine that was a comfortable drive away from the garage. But right now he wasn't very comfortable with the thought of how much work awaited him at the garage when he couldn't exactly drive there through the rain in his god forsaken Volkswagen. So he'd been stationed here, sitting on a vinyl lounge chair with no more company than an empty coffee cup, a kid suffering from severe anxiety and the shop's staff.

Walter remembered feeling quite proud about discovering Kovelsky's almost four weeks ago on his way home from a job. Ever since their first coffee pot had died, the team had agreed to take turns on who was in charge of buying their daily coffee and Walter stumbling into Kovelsky's the day prior to his turn, had been of the likes of a miracle; if such thing existed, of course.

A week after this astounding discovery, he'd been a little too proud enough to let it slip the moment Toby started his daily rant about having to get his coffee elsewhere again due to their second coffee pot —a gift from a client— also dying under suspicious circumstances.

He rarely shared personal information with the behaviorist knowing it would ultimately lead to an over-analysis on the potential emotional background of his most trivial choices, but this coffee machine problem had consumed his already sparse patience and truth be told, he ─or the team as a whole, for that matter─ didn't function properly before drinking an early morning dose of caffeine. That and the funny name he’d asked the barista to write on Toby’s coffee cup, had been the ideal set of variables that resulted in Toby successfully getting in his toes that morning. 

"I knew you were behind those ridiculous names on my coffee cups!" he said before taking a swig of his coffee "You tell that hot brunette barista that I'll be paying her a visit to get our order next time"

Walter choked on his drink. He grimaced, tongue burned.

An image of Kovelsky's barista, Paige, sprang in his mind flashing him a genuine smile as she handed him his order and change that same morning. Besides having Walter's lack of social skills as a disadvantage, he'd picked on the hint in Toby's snarky comment surprisingly fast. Walter made use of all his willpower to not blurt out more things that could potentially drag him even deeper into the hole, like the actual shade of brown of the hot brunette barista's hair, for starters.

"Just thought I needed an appropriate comeback for Emotional Dumpster Fire and Ego-maniac" he counterattacked, perhaps a little too late.

Walter cursed himself for hesitating on that last remark. Now, he was sure he had seen those nicknames in his coffee cups sometime in the past, but he didn't really know if either of them had been written on the ones Toby had ordered for him. So,as a result of him trying to cover up his slip, his brain had acted on his usual unfiltered auto-pilot.

Toby clicked his tongue, his lips curving into his trademark devilish grin. "You are such a terrible liar, mi amigo" he said, his fingers tapping on his cup excitedly "by the way I highly suspect of you deliberately messing up our new pot, but I'll let it go in the light of this new interesting chain of events"

Had he not being busy taking another glorious sip of his coffee, Walter might've even blushed at that last comment. He had indeed messed up said coffee machine, not intentionally at least and certainly not because keep going to Kovelsky's had been his plan all along (something he surprisingly didn't mind at all). In fact, and much to Walter's embarrassment, the sudden and disastrous malfunction of the machine had come off as a result of his first (and probably last) attempt at replicating Cinnamon dream, Paige's coffee recommendation of the week.

"T-that's not—"

"It was definitely a clever move to keep visiting our friend at Kovelsky's, actually" Toby said, cutting off his embarrassing stutter.

"What was a clever move to keep visiting our friend at Kovelsky's?" Sylvester, who apparently had been able to eavesdrop on Toby's last remark, asked as he joined them at the kitchen to get the lone apple that awaited him on the countertop "do we have a friend at Kovelsky's?"

"You all know, Kovelsky's?" Walter asked, his eyes shifting between both the mathematician and the behaviorist in bewilderment.

"That's the place where I get our coffee orders on Wednesdays, sometimes" Sylvester said as he proceeded to wash his apple in the sink behind Walter.

"You don't drink coffee" Walter added.

Sylvester hunched his shoulders. "You try telling Happy that"

"It's alright, pal" Toby added as he slid his free arm across Walter's shoulders "we've all had a crush on a coffee shop barista"

"What coffee shop barista?" Cabe asked. The homeland agent had arrived at just the perfect time to also eavesdrop on a conversation that should have never happened in the first place.

Walter visualized slapping himself hard in the face.

"The one this emotional dumpster fire is crushing on, of course" the behaviorist said, tightening his leverage on his shoulders.

"I don't have a crush on Paige" he snapped.

Oh boy.

While he listened to Toby and Cabe's frantic bursts of laughter, Walter finally said his goodbyes to a peaceful day at Scorpion's headquarters. There was no possible way that either of them would let go of that. Paige's name slipping from his lips had officially sealed his coffin.

"Did Paige put that cinnamon in your coffee as well?" Toby asked mockingly as he finally released Walter's shoulders and walked away in the direction of his desk.

Walter avoided visiting Kovelsky's for pretty much the entirety of the following week, something that did not go unnoticed by Toby, of course. He was fast to voice his utter disappointment regarding Walter's sudden interest in Yorkshire tea instead of his usual order from said coffee shop.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to buy a new coffee pot. Not out of sentimentalism, of course, but good old pride. Buying a new pot out of the blue would mean something for Toby, and he was definitely not backing up the shrink's theories on Walter's alleged emotions being awakened by the waitress.

A particularly loud thunder pulled Walter out of his reverie, his eyes falling to the empty cup atop the coffee table in front of him. The sight of his own name on it seemed foreign to him, as if he had somehow misspelled it his entire life. A ridiculous musing, if he actually put some thought to it, but the truth was that he found Paige's handwriting aesthetically beautiful, even when he had her write those absurd nicknames he'd come up for Toby.

Her little burst of laughter was worth the embarrassment, he thought.

Before this moment, Walter hadn't paid much attention to her handwriting, but he had indeed been observant of other things about her in the sporadic (but also uncomfortable) events in which they had interacted. And so he had come to associate the barista's light temper, energetic personality (surely a suitable behavior for someone who served at least a hundred customers per day) and overall appearance with a very neutral, pretty much basic handwriting style.

On the contrary, Paige had a very nice cursive handwriting with just the right amount of edges and curls to make it both elegant and practical enough to read effortlessly. 

He’d been wrong all along, of course. But when had he ever been right about people? It wasn’t exactly his department.The genius was a lot of things but a Harvard trained psychologist, so how in the world, ─and taking in consideration his close to non-existent social skills─ would he be able to decode a woman if he hadn't even properly talked to her?

He had talked to her just once. A very short, very uncomfortable conversation with his usual unfiltered self and a poorly delivered diagnosis of anemia that went just about as good as anyone would expect. Of course, not even a clinically addicted gambler like Toby would bet on the odds of him getting the chance to engage into yet another disastrous conversation with her. Walter wouldn't have blamed him either.

Walter shook his head in annoyance. He was definitely not happy with the turn his thoughts were taking. Especially since he was still incapable of figuring out what was that he found so intriguing about this woman. Or why he felt compelled to make these ridiculous assumptions about her, like the way she wrote his name on a paper container. Besides, by being a regular customer for almost three weeks, Walter couldn't act like he actually knew this woman. He represented 15 minutes of a 24-hour day in her life, not even a 2 percent of it, if put in perspective.

Walter sighed and risked a quick glance in Paige's direction. She had abandoned her place behind the bar and was trying to offer some kind of pastry to the fidgety kid sitting two tables ahead of him. 

He vaguely reminded him of a younger version of Sylvester, his feet tapping nervously on the floor as he examined a particular set of equations on the board of the garage. If the kid was anything like him, Walter doubted she'd make much progress in easing his anxiety.

But there she was, a couple of minutes later, gently ruffling up his hair as she handed him a freshly-baked chocolate muffin. “Thank you” the kid said a few moments later, both his hands too occupied picking on the pastry to continue their nervous tapping on the table. 

The streets had been unsually packed the day of his return to Kovelsky’s a few days later resulting in Walter arriving much later than expected. There was a relatively short line of customers, —probably because six forty-five was not quite the busy hour for the coffee shop— which meant he could possibly shorten his visit and return to the garage to finish the tedious task of testing governmental software security for the hundredth time. With the deadline approaching at a seemingly faster pace, Walter and Sylvester's progress turned out slower than anticipated and the genius had been forced to rely on Toby and Happy's coding skills to get the last patches of the firewall revised. It would have been the only way they’d be able to deliver the results in time to a very irritable Deputy Director Cooper, who had not only called for updates once, but twice in a manner of twenty minutes.

As of now, the team had worked tirelessly throughout the entire night with pre-scheduled 10-minute lunch breaks to increase efficiency. But as the morning hours approached, Walter and Toby had surprisingly agreed that they could definitely use a large order of egg bagels and coffee to get through the last couple of hours before the deadline was officially up.

Walter was functioning on auto-pilot by now, which was why he initially took no notice of the familiar voice that greeted him as he approached the end of the line to order. He was already blurting out his usual coffee order before the previous client had successfully retrieved his own order from the barista’s hands.

"Good morning to you too, Walter" a familiar voice said back, laughing softly.

Walter could almost feel the color running up his face, because damn it he knew that voice too well. He scratched the back of his head nervously, his eyes rising from the brown tiles to the delicately written 'Paige' on the name tag of the woman in front of him.

"I-I’m sorry," he stuttered back, feeling utterly ridiculous "good morning, Paige"

Walter had only pronounced her name out loud a couple times before, and so it felt kind of awkward coming out of his mouth. When he finally got himself together to look up at her, she seemed like she was holding back a grin.

Paige settled for a wide smile and proceeded to tap the screen of the monitor in front of her. Walter was a bit surprised to find out she’d changed a little since the last time he saw her. Her hair was pulled up in a high pony tail and her bangs looked slightly longer, almost reaching her eyelids now. The early morning light brought out a nice sun-kissed tone on her skin and made her eyes shine a warm hazelnut color too. Sun bathing, maybe? And hadn't the bags under her eyes lessened a little bit? Moderate sun exposure increases levels of vitamin D and may help increase overall sleep quality…

She looked quite stunning, actually.

"…than usual, today"

Walter shook his head, eyebrows scrunched up together "I'm sorry, what?"

Paige flashed him another gentle smile rendering him slightly dazed "I said you look a little more tired than usual today. Walter, are you okay?"

Apparently he was also slower than usual because it took him a whole three-seconds' time to process that question "Yes, yes, I'm fine" he said, before he resumed to the suddenly difficult task of retrieving the right amount of money from his wallet.

She raised an eyebrow at him, seemingly dissatisfied with his rushed answer.

He frowned, evidently confused, as he quickly went over the whole exchange before it finally downed on him. "I'm fine, thank you" he added.

"You're getting so much better…I'm actually proud!" she admitted, handing him the printed receipt. "You know the drill: I'll call your name when the order is ready. It shouldn't take long"

Walter was about to deliver what was most likely a completely unnecessary scientific fact when his phone buzzed inside his pocket snapping him back to reality. The security software, he thought, alarmed, as he swiped left below Toby's caller ID to answer.

"I hope you're all done with the flirting and driving your ass back with our coffees right now" he said.

"Almost there" the genius replied, cursing out loud at the time on his wristwatch. "Has Cooper showed up yet?"

"No, but it shouldn't take her more than five minutes. I don't think that woman has ever been late to something, not even her birth"

Walter rolled his eyes and looked at his wristwatch once again. Even if he sped, he'd never make it to the garage in time if he waited for his order to be ready "See you there" he said, then hung up and put his phone back in his pocket.

"Is everything alright?" Paige asked from behind the bar, a couple feet apart from him.

"Actually…no" he replied, a silent apology drawn all over his face "I have to go"

Paige blinked, puzzled "What?"

"I'm sorry!" he shouted as he dashed through the doors and towards the parking lot.

"Walter, wait!" she shouted back, a cup holder in her hand

He was not able to see the noticeable disappointment in Paige's face.

Walter always thought he was one to get things done without complaint. 

He could take on time-sensitive and dangerous missions every day, but it had always been the ensuing paperwork that got the best of him. He was vaguely aware of the few perks of working for the government, but having to write reports and fill out endless forms every time they worked on something was far away from being considered among them. Especially because no matter how many times he reviewed said reports, they always made sure to comment on virtually anything about them: the language used, the length, the blank space on the comments section…

Walter would've given anything to ditch that insufferable task and take a look at the equations Sylvester was working on the board or see what was going on with that faint smell of smoke coming from Happy's workplace… even take a look at the book Toby was reading at the living room with his feet over the coffee table. But he was well aware that the paperwork wouldn't do itself over the night and if he neglected to work on it for another day, he might as well never do it at all.

He sighed and frowned at the insurmountable pile of paperwork before his eyes wishing he'd have some sort of supernatural ability to make it disappear. At this point he thought anything would do, though he'd like to admit that laser-like vision was one of his favorites. Walter rolled his eyes at this ridiculous trail of thought. He had to be very desperate to bring up his sparse knowledge on sci-fi material to occupy his mind.

In fact, Walter was so engrossed in the many uses he could think of for laser-like vision that he missed the knock on the door. At first, it seemed like nobody else noticed, but Toby ended up being the one to answer it, not after shooting the rest of the team a skeptical look. Cabe had left thirty minutes before, so it was rather unlikely that it'd be him, at least not with L.A. traffic this late in the afternoon. Could be another lost delivery guy…

Except that it was neither Cabe nor the disoriented delivery guy from the recently open restaurant two blocks away.

"Hi—uh, I'm sorry," she stuttered "my name is—"

"Paige" Toby interrupted her, obviously amused. Walter's eyes widened. "What a pleasant surprise…"

"Yes, uh, how did you— "Nevermind. I'm looking for Walter O'Brien?" she added, doubtful.

Three pairs of eyes turned in his direction, Toby's exceedingly amused, of course, as of Happy and Sylvester's…well, they looked mostly confused, although he doubted the mechanic's grin and raised eyebrow could be classified under confused. Walter had never stood up so fast in his life.

Keep it casual, he reminded himself.

The behaviorist seemed like he was about to deliver what was most likely a very embarrassing remark, but luckily, Walter's own curiosity beat him to it. A bright smile appeared on Paige's face as soon as he caught sight of him by his desk and left him momentarily dumbfounded —for the second time in that day, he recalled.

"Paige?" he asked, evidently confused as he rounded his desk awkwardly "W-what are you doing here?"

Walter could almost feel everyone's eyes on him, even Toby's as he politely invited the barista in and rekindled his place at the couch. The genius would've swore he heard kissing sounds as he walked past him, but was happy to see Paige didn't seem to notice when he finally approached her.

She looked the same way she did in the morning, except she had replaced the dark blue apron and white t-shirt underneath, for a loose pink camisole and a denim jacket.

"I'm so glad I found you" she said, her hazelnut eyes were beaming with excitement "you're a very difficult man to find"

"I am?" Walter shook his head "How did you know where I—"

Paige held her finger up in the air as she started rummaging inside her handbag "Hold on”.

"You dropped your wallet at the coffee shop this morning" she said, finally fishing the item from her bag.

It was indeed his wallet what Paige was holding in front of him. It looked foreign in her hand though, had he not patted his back pocket, he would've probably contemplated she was mistaken just like the lost delivery guy. It had been more than twelve hours since he'd been at the coffee shop, how could he have possibly missed that?

"It is my wallet indeed" he said.

"I hope you don't mind me looking inside for some kind of information…" she trailed off "promise I didn't take anything"

"No, no, of course not" Walter added, "I-I would've never thought—"

Paige's eyes looked warm, she smiled at him shyly.

"Thank you" he said after a short pause, bowing his head a little bit.

"No problem" she said, hunching her shoulders "you still owe big time, though"

They stood there for about half a minute looking anywhere but each other, until Walter had the common sense to take the damned wallet from her hand and put it in the back pocket of his pants. What was so intriguing about the stray lock of hair that escaped her pony tail, anyway?

"Well...It was nice seeing you again" she said, offering him a smile before she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Walter sort of…panicked. He stretched his arm, not quite sure about what he was actually doing, and was just in time to grab the strap of her handbag as she pulled the heavy door open. The cool autumn breeze did nothing to clarify his thoughts, but for once his familiar unfiltered self served him right by blurting out the words: "Is—uh, is there any way I could…repay you?

Paige stood there, halfway in halfway out, for a terrifyingly long second that got Walter thinking about all the ways he could apologize to her, before she finally turned on her heel and faced him again, a wide grin on her face.

She then proceded to fetch a pen from her bag and stuck it between her teeth as she said "You can always try" before grabbing his arm to scribble down a series of numbers on his skin.

Walter looked to his forearm, incredulous. Was that…?

"I like Italian food, by the way" the barista said as she exited the garage.

[dweetwise]

yes hello, i’m back on my riconti bullshit again, this time with a cute prompt fill from @dailyau by @hcpelesshcney about fire alarms and sharing a blanket ❤️

i’m also trying something new with splitting a fic into chapters!

ship: felix x ace warnings: briefly mentioned internalized homophobia word count: 3700

[next]

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire (part 1)

It's surprising just how scattered the human brain becomes during a crisis.

When Felix was woken from his restless sleep in the hotel bed by a blaring fire alarm, he'd bolted out of the bed and scrambled out into the hallway without second thought. He'd probably even left the door to his room wide open, with his wallet, passport, phone and laptop all neatly arranged on the desk for anyone to walk by and steal.

And now he's standing in the parking lot in the chilly late summer night, dressed in nothing but his pajama pants and a t-shirt. His socks were drenched as soon as he stepped outside, running straight into a puddle while hurrying to get away from the potential fire.

At least he's not alone in the stressful predicament. There's plenty of other people around, looking just as lost and dazed as him, having been forced to evacuate the hotel in the middle of the night. Most have been sensible enough to bring their jackets and shoes, a couple of kids even huddling beneath a hotel duvet.

And since there's no sign of a fire or even any smoke, Felix feels like an idiot for not having the foresight to bring something to warm him up.

The firefighters have just arrived at the scene and are preparing to search the building for the source of the alarm. Felix tries not to shiver even more as he relents to the fact that they're still going to be stuck out there for quite some time.

The crowd in the parking lot is loud, families and partners gossiping amongst themselves, some people even arguing with the staff members about ruining their vacation. Felix wishes they'd just shut up, more than happy to forget this ever happened if he'd just get to curl back under the warm covers of his bed instead of freezing out here.

This trip just kept getting worse. Not only had he been forced to come on only a day's notice, taking over Lauren's business trip across the Atlantic when she'd unexpectedly caught a cold. He’d also had to take a shitty flight route with two extra stops, and his last flight had been no less than six hours late.

When he’d finally arrived at the hotel and started trying to sleep off the massive jet lag after barely getting any sleep on the plane, he'd been rudely awakened by an emergency. And now, to add insult to injury, he’s gone from the threat of burning to death to freezing to death.

“Hey,” a voice says from right beside him, making Felix jolt in surprise over being distracted from his internal pity party.

He sees a man standing next to him, wrapped in a hotel-issued blanket, looking up at him with curious brown eyes and a pleasant smile.

Felix racks his brain for if he knows this man or not, but draws up a blank, the tiredness and cold making his thoughts feel sluggish. The man is shorter than Felix and looks a little older, if the laugh lines and grey hair are anything to go by.

“You look cold,” the man says. “Wanna share my blanket?”

As the man lifts the fabric just the slightest bit in invitation, mortification hits Felix. Not only is his shivering noticeable enough to warrant someone taking pity on him, he's being offered physical contact from a stranger.

Isn't it a weird thing to offer, especially to another man? Does he somehow know that Felix is gay? Is he making fun of him? Or is it just an American thing? Wouldn't it be weirder for Felix not to accept, since the man has noticed how much he’s freezing?

“Alright,” the man says when Felix isn't replying, lowering the bedding in surrender. “My bad, I just thought—"”

“Yes,” Felix says, interrupting him.

“Uh…” the man says, understandably confused by Felix's social awkwardness.

“Yes, I want to sh-share,” Felix says, another full-body shiver wracking his body.

“Oh! Sure,” the man grins happily, and then he's suddenly very close, shoulder bumping against Felix's chest, and a corner of the blanket is thrown haphazardously over Felix's shoulder.

“T-thank you,” Felix stammers, both from the nerves and the cold, grabbing the soft cotton fabric and pulling it tighter against himself.

And causing the stranger to stumble even closer from the momentum.

“Sure, don't mention it,” the man grins, like he's not now pressed against a stranger's side from shoulder to hip.

Embarrassed as Felix feels, both the blanket and the person attached to it are warm. Felix has to stop himself from sighing blissfully as the other's body heat starts to warm him up, slowly working away at the chill in his bones.

“Well, since we're gonna be stuck here for a while,” the man muses. “My name's Ace.”

“F-F-Felix,” Felix manages through clattering teeth.

“I'd shake your hand, but I think we're past that stage already,” Ace jokes, and then offers a pleased grin as Felix huffs out a surprised laugh through his nose. “In any case, it’s nice to meet you, Felix,” the man looks up at him and smiles, and Felix's poor, gay heart skips a beat.

Yeah, this is definitely preferable to freezing to death.

“I wonder how long they'll take to find the cause this time,” Ace starts conversationally, while pulling out his phone from the nest of blankets. He sets to what looks like writing a text to someone, not seeming the least bit bothered by their predicament.

“You don't seem very nervous,” Felix observes.

“Not my first rodeo,” Ace looks up and grins. “Probably someone just smoked inside and tripped the alarm. Happens a lot in hotels.”

“D-d-do you travel? A lot?” Felix asks, partly do distract himself from the cold while he gets his body heat up, partly to divert Ace’s attention from his phone.

“You could say that,” Ace says. “What about you? Here on business?”

“Yes,” Felix says, with no small amount of annoyance over being reminded he still has work tomorrow. “Thankfully my meeting isn't until the afternoon.”

“Glad you can get your beauty sleep,” Ace says.

“And hopefully get rid of the jet lag,” Felix comments with a tired sigh.

Ace hums in acknowledgement before going back to his phone message. Felix tries not to take it personally; he knows he's not that interesting to talk to.

Ace is so warm, and it's a little awkward being pressed this close, but embarrassingly enough, Felix finds himself drifting even closer. Ace smells like whiskey and cheap cologne, but somehow, it's oddly comforting. He'd probably been drinking last night—well, technically tonight. Thankfully, he doesn't seem drunk, as Felix doubts he would have had the patience to deal with alcohol-induced rambling.

“Whiskey man, I see,” Felix comments. When Ace looks up from his phone in surprise, Felix realize how weird it is for him to admit to smelling the man.

“I reek that bad, huh?” Ace grins, taking the comment in stride.

“I didn't mean—” Felix flounders to explain.

Damnit, he should just give up on trying to make conversation.

“Wow, lighten up,” Ace says and elbows him playfully under the blanket, adding even more physical contact to their already borderline inappropriate situation.

Felix tries to ignore the fluttering in his gut when he feels Ace's hairy forearm brush against his own. This is more physical contact than he's gotten from another man… probably ever.

“Yeah, I had a few drinks earlier. I'm more of a wine man, but…” Ace seems to ponder. “Sometimes, you've got to try new things.”

Like huddling under a blanket with an attractive stranger, Felix considers.

Suddenly, he almost regrets the blanket blocking his view from seeing more of the man. His body feels firm against Felix's, and his shoulders look defined, though that could just be an illusion from the thick fabric covering them.

“What’s your poison?” Ace asks, following Felix's awkward silence.

“I don't drink much,” Felix lies, like he hasn’t been going through his father’s old liquor collection at an alarming rate for the past year or so. “Uhm… whiskey, I guess. And bourbon.”

He could really, really go for either one right now. Not only would the drinks warm him up, they'd also make him act like an actual human being instead of the stiff robot impression he's currently doing.

“Huh,” Ace comments.

“What?” Felix asks, trying not to get defensive.

“Nothing! I would have pegged you as a beer guy, is all,” Ace muses. “Maybe that's just the accent, though.”

“Sorry,” Felix apologizes. Now hyperaware of his bad pronunciation and extremely German accent, he tries to bury his face deeper into the blanket in embarrassment.

“Naw, hey, come on,” Ace turns toward him as much as the cramped space allows him to. “Your English is amazing! The accent only adds charm.”

Felix looks at Ace's encouraging smile and tries not to think too much about their thighs now pressing together. Ace is clearly waiting for him to say something, but all Felix can focus on is his warm body and striking features.

“Where are you from?” Felix asks instead, trying to place the hint of an accent he thinks he hears.

“Huh. Good catch,” Ace smiles, seeming surprised. “Guess!”

Felix flushes and looks at Ace's eagerly grinning face. It's nighttime, but Ace's skin seems darker than his own, and his features look Mediterranean, reminding Felix of countless business trips to Spain. But the accent…

“Italy?” Felix suggests, and Ace's smile somehow widens even further.

“Close!” Ace says. “Argentina.”

“Ehm…” Felix furrows his brow in confusion, thinking that surely, being a whole continent and world sea off doesn't exactly count as "close".

“My family hails from Italy, and it's my native language,” Ace explains. “So it was a really good guess!”

“Thank you…?” Felix says awkwardly.

“I'd ask what you were doing when the alarm went off, but…” Ace pauses, glancing up at his disheveled hair. “From your outfit choice and the bedhead, I'd put 50 bucks on 'sleeping'."

“You'd be correct,” Felix murmurs, self-consciously poking his hand out from under the blanket to run through his tousled hair. “I'm not very interesting.”

“I think I'll be the judge of that," Ace grins. “If, uh… you don't mind chatting to pass the time?”

“Not at all,” Felix says, hoping he doesn't sound too eager, happy Ace deems him interesting enough to talk to instead of whoever he was texting earlier.

They spend some twenty minutes chatting about mostly insignificant things. But as much as Felix usually hates small talk, he now welcomes it, because Ace is asking him interesting questions instead of just talking about the weather. He appears to genuinely care about Felix's story, and Felix might end up sharing a little too much, from the work stress and business trip he didn't even want to come to, all the way to his relationship that ended a few weeks ago.

Ace seems friendly and pleasant, taking Felix's awkward pauses and nervousness in stride, filling in the silences with stories of his own. Felix hears a lot about the different places he's traveled to, along with some hotel horror stories that make him feel much better about the current fire alarm situation. He manages a few laughs, some merely polite, but some genuinely amused at Ace's over-the-top storytelling.

Eventually, Ace's phone beeps again and he excuses himself and engrosses himself momentarily in the screen, and this time, Felix welcomes the brief break in socializing.

He realizes just how nice this is. It feels like a stroke of luck that only a few short weeks after ending his relationship with his ex-girlfriend and coming out in the process, he'd meet a handsome stranger this eager to cuddle up to him.

Not cuddle up—share a blanket, Felix mentally berates himself.

He glances at Ace out of the corner of his eye, seeing his side profile illuminated by the dim glow from the phone screen. Felix never really considered what his type would be, apart from the all-encompassing "men" that he'd only recently come to accept about himself. But taking in Ace's defined features and the smile that seems to be a permanent part of his face, he's starting to get an idea.

Quickly looking away before Ace catches him staring, Felix suddenly feels almost too warm. He shouldn't get ahead of himself; even though It feels like Ace is being a little too friendly, he hasn't actually made a move, seeming happy just with chatting to kill time.

Felix briefly toys with the idea of placing his hand on Ace's hip in a loose embrace, just to test the waters. He'd never be that brave, but if he was, he'd at least know for sure, even if it would probably end in Ace being disgusted and kicking him out of the blanket cocoon.

But… maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d smile even wider and return the gesture, just as eager as Felix to get even closer. Felix would wrap his arms around him, and they'd stand there cuddling and sharing even more body heat, maybe even kissing—

Shit. This is exactly what his therapist said he shouldn't do, the term "excessive daydreaming" flashing in his mind.

“Sorry,” Ace is saying, turning back to face him and pocketing the phone, completely oblivious to Felix's internal dilemma. “Where were we?”

“I, uh,” Felix stammers.

Was just thinking about kissing you.

“Did I tell you about the time a bunch of college kids decided to set off fireworks in the hotel room next to mine?” Ace offers, saving Felix from floundering for a topic.

“What—why would they…?” Felix asks.

“Well, I'd just gotten back from this extravagant New Years party—” Ace excitedly starts telling yet another story, and Felix keenly starts listening in.

Ace seems to be completely in his element, getting lost in talking about just how fancy the party was, followed by a dramatic retelling of some very incredulously sounding explosions that turned out to be fireworks. Felix keeps listening raptly, not entirely sure about the accuracy of the story, but enjoying seeing the other so happy. The blanket occasionally shifts as Ace tries to gesture with his hands to add to the narration, only to remember that he can't, looking sheepish every time.

Felix has never met someone with such effortless charisma. Ace's voice is rich and pleasant, and Felix briefly zones out while he imagines it talking him to sleep.

It's stupid, and he knows it. He's only known the man for half an hour, and even "knowing" him is pushing it. Felix is only in the country for two more days, and he’s very aware that pursuing anything would be pointless.

But he also knows that given the chance, he wouldn't say no to seeing Ace again. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, the narrowly averted emergency, or simply being far away from home and realizing nobody would ever find out. Either way, he’s feeling more adventurous than usual, the adrenaline in his veins and butterflies in his gut keeping his tired body on high alert.

Too bad he's deathly afraid of rejection and would never dare to ask if the other is interested.

Suddenly, there's the screech of a PA system, and Ace stops mid-sentence, both of them turning to look at a firefighter speaking into a megaphone.

“The fire has been extinguished and the building is now safe. Please return to your rooms,” the fireman announces.

The horde of people immediately start flocking towards the hotel entrance at the same time, creating an annoyed crowd of freezing, grumpy people and managing to clog the entryway immediately.

“I wonder what the cause was,” Felix ponders out loud, not making an effort to move toward the commotion and get stuck between the shoving, complaining people.

“Who cares? We get to not freeze our asses off anymore!” Ace exclaims gleefully.

And Felix realizes they no longer have a reason to stay huddled up together. Reluctantly slipping away from under the blanket, he feels a disappointed pang in his chest over how happy Ace sounds to get rid of him.

“Thank you for lending your blanket,” Felix says, handing his side of the fabric back over to Ace and trying not to shiver as the cold of the night hits his warm skin.

“My pleasure! Thanks for keeping me warm!” Ace quips cheerfully, wrapping the item tighter around himself.

“Ehm… you as well,” Felix says, looking away so Ace doesn't see his face heating up.

“Come on, let's get you inside!” Ace prompts, and then he leans into Felix and shoves him lightly with a blanket-clad shoulder.

It's clearly in an intent to encourage Felix to move, but it still makes newfound hope blossom in his chest. They’re no longer forced to tolerate each other if they don't want to freeze, but Ace still seems far from repulsed by him.

“Right,” Felix says, starting the short trek to the hotel entrance that has thankfully cleared up from people.

“So…” Ace drawls, easily falling into step next to him. “Can I have your number?”

Felix glances at him and blinks in confusion. Is… is Ace asking him out? Or just being polite? Is he going to ask to be added on Facebook too, like all the weird colleagues Felix has met on business trips once and then never heard from again?

“For...?” Felix manages to ask when they arrive at the entrance, reaching for the door and holding it open for the man.

“Just wondering if you wanted to grab some drinks while you're still in town,” Ace says when he slips past Felix into the building. “I wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” Ace adds, looking him up and down with a smile that is definitely not just friendly.

Heat rises up Felix's neck from more than just the warm air of the hotel lobby. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one sensing the tension between them.

“Maybe,” Felix says, trying and probably failing to not seem way too enthusiastic.

“Oh?” Ace says, quirking an eyebrow. And then he's shrugging off the blanket, revealing a rolled-up, button-up shirt and—

Fuck. Broad shoulders and a lean build, that sure as hell doesn't make Felix's predicament any easier.

Felix definitely stares longer than appropriate while they continue walking to the elevator, Ace thankfully too busy with bunching up the blanket to notice his ogling.

“What…" Felix starts, making Ace look at him, cocking his head. "Uhm. What's with the sudden interest?”

“I mean,” Ace says, shooting him pointed look. “I was interested ever since I saw you there, shivering in your ridiculously tight T-shirt,” he winks.

Felix realizes that the shirt probably leaves a lot less to the imagination than the suits and blazers he always wears. He lifts a hand to his arm in a self-conscious manner, making an attempt to cover himself.

“But I didn't wanna freak you out,” Ace adds, giving a one-shoulder shrug. “Would have been pretty awkward if you said no, considering you were kinda stuck with me for a bit.”

That's… oddly sweet, and very much appreciated. Felix would probably have imploded on himself from embarrassment if Ace would have been this forward from the start.

“Thank you,” Felix says.

“No worries,” Ace grins, pushing the button to order the elevator. “So? Are you freaked out?”

Felix considers the question for a moment, only arriving at variations of "no", "I'm leaving in two days" and "help you're really hot but I've never been with a guy and don't know what to do".

“I think the word is…” Felix pauses in thought, trying to ignore his brain screaming insecurities at him. “'Intrigued'.”

Proud of managing to be smooth for once in his life, the ding of the elevator arriving is almost lost on Felix, because he's so focused on Ace's now downright lecherous grin.

But he obediently steps into the elevator, not wanting to keep the few hotel customers still lingering behind them.

“What's you floor, gorgeous?” Ace asks with a flirtatious smile, after pressing the number four.

Wow. How the hell did Felix ever manage to think he was just being friendly?

“Three,” Felix says.

“Looks like you're under me,” Ace flirts while pushing the button for him, making Felix choke on his own spit from the suggestive comment, embarrassed yet curious.

And then Ace clears his throat and averts his eyes as a woman and her daughter walk into the elevator with them.

They stand awkwardly next to each other as the elevator doors slide close. Felix’s thoughts are a mess of excitement, nervousness and embarrassment, not sure what to do in this situation.

He discreetly glances at Ace—

And the other catches him looking.

Felix's heart skips a beat as Ace's lips spread into a lazy grin, eyes shimmering with unspoken promise.

He wonders what it would be like to wipe that grin off the smug man's face. Felix imagines pushing Ace up against the elevator wall, picturing how the other’s eyes would go wide, maybe he'd even gasp, taken off guard at Felix's sudden boldness. Maybe he wouldn't have time to say anything, because Felix would capture his lips in a passionate kiss, and Ace would groan and drop the blanket to tangle his hands in Felix's hair—

DING!

Felix is rudely snapped out of his daydream by the elevator arriving on his floor. He realizes he's been spacing out while staring at Ace's face, and the smirk is gone from the man's lips, but his eyes are somehow even more intense.

“Good night,” Felix offers stiffly, forcing himself to break the eye contact before he gets lost in his own head again.

He takes a step out of the elevator, mentally scolding himself when he notices his racing heart and heavy breathing, getting himself worked up over a dumb fantasy.

Tomorrow, he promises himself when the elevator doors start sliding shut behind him. Tomorrow, he’d go out with Ace and could maybe, hopefully psyche himself up enough to make a move. He'd just text the man in the morning—

Except they never exchanged numbers.

Shit!

[kyotakumrau]

2020.09.19 ROCK AND READ 091 - interview with utA - translation PART 2/2

And so hati and I left Niigata with very little money, but carrying a guitar and a bass with us, we went to Tokyo.

Interview: Yukinobu Hasegawa Photos: Yosuke Komatsu (ODD JOB LTD.)

Translation: kyotaku You can buy the magazine on amazon, tower records etc ฅ( ̳• ·̫ • ̳ฅ)♡

PART 1 HERE

-- With 40~50k yen you can do a short sightseeing trip to Tokyo (laughing).

utA: Yeah, that's why we got part time jobs soon and started saving, and together with hati we rented a cheap place in a wooden building for about 40k yen. And there our Tokyo life has started.

-- Sounds very Showa style (laughing). Where in Tokyo was it?

(*Showa era, 1926-1989, is often referred as nostalgic old times, retro style; but the house utA and hati lived in was likely an actual Showa building... which are seen as not safe during disasters and thus very cheap to rent)

utA: It was in Komagome. There was no bath, but it was something like a detached house, so for 45k it was super cheap. But it was a considerably old building.

-- But still that's cheap. For a detached house. Was it a stigmatized property by any chance?

utA: Right? But it was cheap, so we thought why not (laughing). The two of us. Even if there's some issue.

-- There's issue with you two (laughing). There were two of you meant to live there, but it would be totally fine if the third unknown occupant appeared suddenly?

utA: Yup (laughing).

-- So you wouldn't be bothered if some floating life form came out?

utA: Yup, no problem at all (laughing). Actually, there was an episode of the ghost visit. You probably won't publish this part of the talk, but it seems like I can actually sense the supernatural. It was when I was writing music when living in that place, I suddenly felt strongly some weird presence behind me, I've been hugged tightly, and when I shouted surprised 'who's it??!' I couldn't see anyone. I thought, ah, someone had passed away in this room at some point. There is really a lot of interesting stories from when we lived in that house (laughing).

-- This is something that must end up in the printed interview for sure.

utA: Seriously?! Won't that be too scary for people who really believe in ghosts? (laughing)

-- Have you encountered many phenomenons like that?

utA: Yes, I have. I could feel many spiritual beings already from before, but there were just a lot, in that place. When hati came back from his part time job I remember telling him 'holy shit someone just grabbed me from behind, we have to move out as soon as possible' (laughing).

-- As you were living in a crazy place like that you have later started a band, it was 9GOATS BLACK OUT, right? It's a bit spooky/ominous band's name, was it because of this?

utA: I guess (laughing). It was crazy living over there, but also very fun. During summertime, the two of us would be bathing in the small garden outside, hati would be taking a shower in the kitchen sink, or sleeping in the oshiire*(laughing). He was a great guy, super funny. With this hati I've done one more band in Tokyo before 9GOATS BLACK OUT. But it only lasted about a month. When looking for a good potential band members, we reached out with invitation to a vocalist ryo from Niigata who done bands like D'elsquel or GULLET. And even as we went to Tokyo to look for band members, we ended up forming a band with 3 guys from Niigata, starting activities in Tokyo. And for that ryo moved to Tokyo.

(*oshiiire is Japanese closet. It's much deeper than Western style closet and has a shelf, you can actually put a single mattress in😆)

-- To that stigmatized/haunted house?

utA: No, no!! (laughing) He actually refused 'I'm not coming to a place like that!' (laughing).

-- ryo was working as a designer then.

utA: Yeah, he was working as a designer in Niigata, but we asked him if he wouldn't quit (laughing). As we could write great songs to make it [in music]. And ryo agreed. Starting the band in Tokyo was like turning over a new leaf. All of us moved to Setagaya ward in Tokyo.

-- Did you choose a stigmatized place again?

utA: It was also an older building, but without any strange situation going on, it was fine (laughing). This time not house sharing, all of us got our own small apartments.

-- 9GOATS BLACK OUT has a very firm image as a very original, strongly idiosyncratic band.

utA: That's definitely true. From when we started activities, the pace of work has never decreased, I think it was a good condition.

-- It was a visual kei band, but musically it had quite a lot from the ambient like elements. You had many very interesting songs.

utA: Yup. Gradually I was leaning more and more to add ambient style to songs. As for why, when we started in Tokyo, in my mid 20s I was increasingly listening to Western artists. Before that I think I wasn't listening to artists outside visual kei, but as I progressively became a better musician I started noticing more and more the greatness of the overseas bands and music. I really got into Radiohead and MUSE, and the songs I was writing got a bit more ambient.

-- Those artists place big importance on the sound of each album.

utA: True. My favourite band now is Radiohead. But at that time I was probably aiming to have a band in a style of MUSE. But our songs were not as rock-ish as MUSE is.

-- MUSE is not only an English rock, their sound is very much arena rock like.

utA: The MUSE now definitely is like that, but I really love their first album 'Showbiz'. Starting from the first song 'Sunburn' there was an amazing ambient, I was probably influenced by that.

-- You got attracted to the clean tones from when you started to play the guitar, so do you like the air surrounding the sound, the pleasant feeling of the ambient style?

utA: That's right. It was with 9GOATS BLACK OUT that we gave shape to songs like that, so musically it was very fulfilling.  Speaking of albums, songs were mainly written by me, ryo and hati done 1 or 2 songs each. So with that it's like I kinda run out of song ideas fast (laughing), or I used everything I had [and it wasn't enough]. There was a pattern that with each album I felt I had to open new doors.

-- You included plenty of synthesizer sounds, creating a three-dimensional sound.

utA: I did, yeah. I was exhausted with every song. There were times when I'd write the main part of the song, and after that I would throw it to the drummer or bassist asking them [to finish it]. Creating songs with 9GOATS BLACK OUT was a good learning experience, but I also experienced how it is to use everything you had and look for new doors to open. I had a healthy attitude towards music, but on the other hand it was also harsh.

-- Around 2013 9GOATS BLACK OUT has ceased activity, where did that come from?

utA: We disbanded 5 years after the formation. It was due to the differences between the band members (about music/band direction).

-- Each of you were writing songs, when you followed through did the music production make each of you do some soul searching?

utA: Yeah, it felt like each of us was changing a bit and the gap growing between us was slowly getting closer to reaching the limit. And as a result, we arrived at the point where we didn't agree where to go next as a band. That's why I think at the latter period each of us felt that as a band our demise is nearing.

-- When that came did you start thinking about your next step?

utA: Nope, not at all. This is similar to when I was graduating the high school, I don't think about what's next (laughing). For now let's stop. After that somehow it will work. Like I'll do what I have to. Weirdly optimistic, I didn't know what's ahead. I wasn't planning on quitting music, but I was tired of writing songs, I was thinking of taking a break for 1 or 2 years from that, wanted to do it properly.

-- And then Kyo contacted you?

utA: Yup! I was very grateful, happy and surprised.

-- I heard that Kyo contacted you saying that he has listened to 9GOATS BLACK OUT music and wants that sound?

utA: That's why I was so moved when I heard that. Since I started music I felt I wanted to maintain my own worldview, this hasn't changed even now. I was glad I could continue, really glad. I felt 'even among musicians there's someone who really appreciates [my sound]'. That time Kyo and Takumi already started writing music for sukekiyo, and were at the stage of thinking what to do about other band members.

-- Have you met those two before?

utA: Not really. But I think we played at some big event with RENTRER EN SOI. And I also had a chance to see DIR EN GREY live twice. But we haven't met then, so our first meeting was when we talked about sukekiyo. [It went like] 'it's really an honour, I'm really grateful that you appreciate my music, I'm really looking forward to working together'.

-- Did Kyo had any specific requests?

utA: It's the same now, he told me to do whatever I want. He hasn't changed since then. That's why from the start I had freedom when working. When working on "IMMORTALIS" I could just let out my worldview freely, so I really enjoyed it. But from the next title "VITIUM" I started to wonder what exactly do I want. So for me, the freedom was the reason I started to lose my way. From around "ADORATIO" Kyo might have started to ask us 'what about something like this as a big picture?', but beyond that it was all 'please do whatever you like'. Not only in terms of music, but I'm quite a free spirit, also among band members (laughing). So I'm very grateful to receive such a generous support from Kyo and other members. YUCHI and Takumi, and Mika help to unify my songs. I really have freedom when creating the original melody. I really think I'm blessed to have those people around me. I'm truly thankful that even though I'm such a free spirit they are all people who can understand me and treat me kindly. They are amazing.

-- It's been 7 years since sukekiyo started, is the gratitude only getting stronger?

utA: On one hand it's getting stronger, but as our time together becomes so long there's also a thing it's by now embarrassing to say. It became difficult to say thank you. Especially having all this support from Kyo, I'm just so grateful to him. It feels like he cares so much, for me. If I got it wrong, sorry for assuming (laughing). When I fail, I get pulled in by that thought, I'm not able to do anything including song writing. Having freedom when creating songs, there's no end of ideas, but rencently they came a bit. With the release of "ADORATIO" in 2017 and "INFINITUM" in 2019 I've been thinking about it a lot, what will we do next. sukekiyo is doing quite a lot music wise.

-- So now it's not like you get influenced by something so you can write?

utA: That is rapidly going away.

-- But for example, even when you write a thing influenced by something else, when it's finally sent to other member shouldn't it be reborn as a totally new thing?

utA: You're totally right. Yeah, it will be reborn as something new, so I just thought it'd be totally fine if I let my mind wander more and create. Of course I want to push myself and always create something that will make you think 'oh amazing' the moment you hear it, including the worldview as well, but if I only do things this way it will always be like that, when I instead pass the idea to the band members it's so interesting to see how it will change. So now, you gave me a very good hint (laughing). Just, my hate of loosing in weird way comes out here, I want to be able make people react 'I'll be damned, what was that!' all by myself. I want Kyo or other members to accept the song when listening at first only to the sound I created. I want to surprise Kyo, who blessed me with 'I want your sound'. Actually, I already made some crazy songs, I want to make more songs I'm happy with and that members can listen.

-- When thinking specifically about the next [work], what kind of sound or songs do you want to pursue?

utA: It's something I've been saying from the start, I want to bring out abnormality/transformation. If the band's sound become electro or other, I don't care about this direction, but there's the thing were I don't want people to listen without questioning it. When no matter how many times you listen but it's hard to understand. And then after a year or so you start thinking it actually might be a good song. Saying that this is my ideal might sound strange, but I think songs like that are way more attractive. Not a song that you like from the first listen.

-- I totally get that feeling. Listening to the song, you can enjoy the wrestling with the music. It's beyond your comprehension, but you're drawn to it somehow. Because when you keep listening to it again and again, you start noticing more sides to it.

utA: That's true. It took me about 5~6 years to truly understand Radiohead. Especially "Pabro Honey" or "The Bends", at the beginning they totally didn't resound with me. The vertical axis felt off, or wasn't there a better chord than this etc. I was thinking that for so long, but then I finally understood after some years, it's because of those things they are good. I hope to someday be able to reach that level. Even if fans probably don't want songs for which you need 5~6 years to understand (laughing). But there is a joy of bringing something unknown to life. sukekiyo has created that for each album, so I'd really like to give birth to something even better again.

[shaekingshitup]

MIRACLES HAPPEN

DAY ONE: TANGERINE

A/N: Y’ALL! I WAS DUPED! @teakturn puts out a 25 Days of Christmas every year and my dumbass said I would do it too. But I decided to add a little diversity to the culture and we’re doing a Chrismukkah adventure this year on this blog! This is picking up after this request that I got earlier this year. None of this shit is proofread because I am literally just writing by the seat of my pants so read at your own discretion. I will probably end up rewriting this entire mini series in the future. But enjoy it now. If you wanna be tagged, lmk! Also, I know that in In Sight I said there was a cure for COVID. Swap that out for a vaccine y’all. Viruses can’t be cured. 

Word Count: 2300 

DAY ONE: TANGERINE

December 18, 2022

“Baby you ready?!” Tre called into the house as reached into the basket on his way to the garage. He came up empty handed for the keys to his Lexus. Opening the door to the garage, he saw Sol sitting in the passenger seat of the running car. 

Tre walked over to his baby as Sol smirked at him. 

“You late again,” she said. 

“I’m never late,” Tre said opening the door and climbing in,  “You just early as always,” he shot back as he put the car in reverse. Sol playfully rolled her eyes. After two years of being together, this was always their running joke. The first time they’d met, she’d been pacing back and forth awaiting his arrival. Even after finding their own groove, she still found herself being the one waiting for him- but, he always made it worth it so it was hard for her to complain.

Tre pulled out of the driveway and clicked the remote to shut the door. Out of instinct, his hand went to Sol’s thigh when he put it in drive. “Did you grab my yarmulke?” Tre asked as he threw her a glance. 

“Please don’t insult me. This ain’t my first feast Nemo.” the indignant manner which she spoke had her and Tre struggling to keep in their bouts of laughter. “Yes, baby. They’re in the backseat.” 

“Good. Good. What’s the other name for them again?” Tre asked as he merged onto the nearly empty highway. A five a.m call time could be a blessing and a curse. 

“Kippah” is the Hebrew word for the male cap and “kippot” is the Hebrew word for the female cap.” Sol answered on autopilot as she mused on their situation. She was still taken aback that they’d been contacted by Black Juice to begin with. She’d been following them ever since they’d done that feature with Drake talking about how his own Jewish faith influenced his career path. Although she wasn’t as active in her Jewish faith as she’d wished she’d been in recent years it was still a huge victory to be acknowledged by the leading Black Jewish media network. Okay so maybe they were the only Black Jewish media network. But that definitely meant they were in the lead! She wasn’t stupid to think that this kind of opportunity would have come without Trevante in her life. But, she wasn’t gonna knock it either. 

This 8 Days of Miracles was the perfect task she needed as she figured out what the next step was for her career. Now that she’d finally finished her academic portion of her career she wasn’t sure how to proceed. So throwing herself into this project and hosting both her family and Tre’s for the holidays was the best distraction she could ask for. This time always gave her hope and made her realize that any kind of bullshit she’d put up with wasn’t in vain. It was her annual reset. New Year’s be damned. It also made her feel closer to her father and there wasn’t anyone in this world she’d loved more. At least that’s what she’d thought. She felt pressure on her thigh from the number one contender for her heart as Tre gave her a slight squeeze. 

“What’s on ya mind Sunshine?” Sol looked down at his hand and couldn’t help but cheese. She still beamed every time he called her by that nickname. 

“I was thinking about my dad and how proud he’d be to see me reppin his faith,” Sol said absentmindedly touching her necklace. Tre listened attentively as he grazed his thumb against her thigh in a gentle motion. “ I mean, I don’t know if he could have known that all of the years he instilled in us the value of miracles when we were children we’d still be celebrating Hanukkah after he was gone.” 

“I’m sure he didn’t know.” Tre started out slowly. He honestly wasn’t even sure if she’d finished her thoughts, “But, he probably hoped you would.” The phone rang as they turned off the street and into the lot. “STEPH 👷🏿‍♀️💪🏿” flashed across the Caller ID on his dashboard. Tre clicked the answer button on his steering wheel as Sol handed him his badge to show to Nico, the Security Attendant. 

“We’re at Security Steph,” Tre answered as he nodded at Nico. 

“Okay good. I just wanted to make sure we were starting the day off on time.” Tre and Sol shared a glance. 

“Woman don’t start with me. Call time is 5 and it’s 4:39. We don’t play that late shit over here and you know it.

“Well,  I also grabbed your favorite donuts from Craft Services so no one else would steal them and I wanted to know how long I had to hoard them for your ungrateful self. I can put them back if you’d like sir,” 

“Steph. You can ignore Tre.” Sol chimed in. “We appreciate you and will be walking in the door in exactly 2 minutes. Tre is parking as we speak. We’ll see you soon.”

“Tre, you lucky you have her. Keep her if you want to keep the best managent in town. Bye y’all!!” Steph sang as she hung up. Sol let out a cackle because Steph refused to be referred as anything other than a managent as Tre stood there dumbfounded at how he was being left out to dry. But he knew better than to go against two black women before he’d even finished his morning coffee. He just hopped out the whip and opened Sol’s door so she could do the same. 

Once they’d gotten their morsels of food, gone through hair and makeup and snapped a few photos for Black Juice and their own social media accounts, they were back on the road headed deeper into LA. They had a cameraman in the backseat filming their every move, one car guided them to their location and another followed them as they maneuvered through the cars that were poppin up for their morning commutes. Sol was on her IG live and answering any questions that popped up about where they were headed and her Hanukkah festivities. She watched as the number quickly jumped from 5,000 viewers to 13,000 and counting. She wasn’t sure what this many people were doing up at this hour but she wasn’t complaining. Tre’s mama was of course one of them. He was a mama’s boy through and through and she was always there to support him at any opportunity she could. Sol made sure to greet her specifically. Tre bopped his head to some Jill Scott- being careful not to let his yarmulke fall. Sol sipped some hot cocoa from her thermos and sang off key with him. As soon as they turned on a residential street, she felt awash in a new warmth that the hot chocolate couldn’t touch. She shook Tre’s arm enthusiastically. 

“It’s time!!” she beamed, “Are you ready?!” Tre chuckled at her immediate change in attitude. The car in front was already parked and the camera crew was out on the sidewalk. 

“Yes Sol. I’m ready to spread some holiday cheer. Let’s go make somebody’s day he said. Before Tre could even put the car in park, she was reaching for the handle” 

“AHT AHT AHT” Tre barked out loud causing the cameraman man in the backseat to jump,“ Tre was already exiting the driver’s side and pointed his finger at her as he crossed in front of the car “Don’t even try it.” Sol rolled her eyes and pouted as she waited the few seconds for him to open her door. 

“Thanks Tre,” she stuck out her tongue. She was like a kid in a candy store and was ready to full out sprint to the front door. The IG live comments were flying. 

Okay Daddy Tre! I need a mans to talk to me like that. 🥵🥵

Did this man just bark at her? 🐶

Loook so long as he handles this backdoor he can open any other door that he pleases sis!

Y’all females is wylin as usual. 

Sol glanced at them. “Imma need y’all to stay out of grown folks’ business and just enjoy this holiday work we are puttin in okay” She handed her phone to another crew member and grabbed Tre’s hand to drag him to the front door. 

She pushed the button for the doorbell but no sound rang out. Tre gave three succinct raps on the door and heard someone rushing down the stairs. The door was flung open by a woman in black slacks and a blinding blue polo emblazoned with a nametag that ironically labeled this young woman as “Tangerine”. She couldn’t be more than 25 years old and the toddler saddled on her hip only added to her youthful appearance. 

“Hi Tangerine,” Tre began, “My name’s Trevante and this is Sol,” he gestured to Sol at his side. 

“Hi?” Tangerine answered confused at this couple and the cameras that followed them. 

“We’re here today with Black Juice, a local Black organization that highlights the experience of the Black Jewish community and we’re doing 8 Days of Miracles,” 

“Okay..” Tangerine said not sounding any less confused. “ I’m not Jewish.”  Sol took over as she could tell that Tre’s efforts weren’t getting them anywhere.

“We’re here because your friend Kira sent in a letter telling us about  how great of a mother you are. She said that you’ve been working two jobs here to support you and your daughter.” At this, Sol smiled at the baby, “She told us that the second job you have is for daycare expenses alone.  We wanted to come out here today and let you know that we see what you do and how hard you go to make sure you give your daughter the best. So, we wanted to help you out and give you this. “ Tre gave her the envelope he had in his hand. It read “Day 1: Tangerine”

Tangerine took the envelope as Tre explained. “We’ve paid for your daughter’s child care for the next two years so you can give yourself a break.” She opened the envelope to see the receipt from Tiny Tots Kindercare and didn’t even know what to do. 

“I don’t know what to say.” She paused for a moment as what this truly meant registered in her mind. “I can quit this job and actually spend more time with my baby and focus on my candles.” 

“Your candles?” Sol asked. 

“Yeah. I make candles by hand. I took a few classes and have played with a few scents. Some friends have asked me to make them some and I’ve been waitin to be a little more secure with my money before I start at it.” she answered exhaling deeply. 

“Do you have any candles right now?” Tre asked peeking a little further in her apartment. Sol slapped his arm. 

“Could you be any nosier?” she chastised with love. 

“Yeah I have some. Do you mind holding Layla?” she asked but she practically threw the child into Sol’s arms as she ran to grab her stash of candles. Sol put on her sweetest voice and spoke to Layla about how old she was and if she liked her friends at daycare. When her mom came back Sol could see the sheer joy that she had when showing off her handiwork. 

Tangerine went through all six of her candles and their various scents with them and by the end Tre had bought each one. She was floored and couldn’t do anything but cry at the way her morning was turning around. It wasn’t even 7:30 and she’d already gotten 2 years of childcare, a reason to quit her grocery store job and someone who actually wanted to buy her candles. 

Before they left, Tre made her promise to hit him up when her site and IG were live so he could get more candles and share it with all of his friends. Sol returned Layla to her mother saying her goodbyes and grabbed Tre’s hand to head back to car. She leaned on his shoulder and he could see the contentment in her eyes. Sol almost forgot her phone before a crewmember handed it back. 

She came back to the IG Live trying not to get too emotional. “Look at that y’all! Day one of Hanukkah is off to a start and we’ve already proved that miracles happen! Y’all better stay tuned in over the next week so you can see who we pop in on next. You never know if it could be you! Thanks to Black Juice for giving us this opportunity to turn someone’s ordinary day into something smile about. Y’all betta check them out so you can see the full footage of what we’ve got goin on! Bye y’all!

“Bye y’all!” Tre called out. They answered a few more questions with Black Juice, said their goodbyes and climbed back into their car. 

“Can we go back to bed now?” Tre asked as he pulled back onto the main road and his hand founds Sol’s thigh again. Sol laughed. 

“I mean if that’s what you prefer we can. I had some other things in mind.” she suggested. 

Tre raised his eyebrow. “I swear you see one baby and you always go 0 to 100”

“Look, I just believe in practicing all aspects of having a child! Even the making part.” 

Tre threw his head back laughing. “I’m wit it babygirl”

DING! 

“That’s me” Sol said. She looked at her phone screen. A text from “Mama Rhodes” popped up.  She’d sent some Pinterest looking bible verse again. 

This was the third one this week. It dampened her mood immediately and caused her to groan. The text read: 

Seeing you with that little girl made me so happy for the good Christian grandbabies that you and Tre will be blessing me with in the future. I thank Jesus for the miracle of you and my baby everyday XO. 

“Tre, I got another one from your mom. When are you gonna talk to her?” 

Tre sighed. “I promise. I’ll talk to her soon and it will definitely be before your Chrismukkah Extravaganza. Don’t sweat it baby.” 

Sol did her best not to think about how pushy his mother was being about this raising Christan grandbabies nonsense ever since they announced they’d be partnering with Black Juice. All she could do is trust Tre and do what she was best at: wait. 

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

@ghostfacekill-monger @thadelightfulone

[for-ests]

Hey, not sure if you do smut but I think this request can work without a lot if you’d prefer😁 reader’s an art student and needs to sculpt a full body nude sculpture and Tom offers but gets a bit cheeky

thanks for the request dear! this was fun to write :-) i literally know nothing about art so if I get something wrong just ignore! i hope you enjoy!! i went a diff +route but I still think it fits! [ mlist ] 

Word count: 3, 273

Warnings: slight nsfw,, nudity 

Pairing: Tom Holland x art student reader!

“The issue is… I have no idea who to ask.” You sighed deeply, embarrassment washing over you as you talked to your best friends about your upcoming project. 

Everyone knew you were a talented sculptor. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that your professional sculpting internship at (your school) was currently learning about Ancient Greece. One of the requirements to pass the semester was to recreate a modern sculpture of someone you knew, and to make it as realistic as possible. Nakedness and all, which was a huge distinction of Greek statues.

There was a big problem though. You were incredibly shy, and you didn’t know who to ask to model for you.

Nudging you with a laugh, your friend flashed you a mischievous smile. “You know a lot of cute guys, why don’t you ask one of them?”

“Cute guys?” You scrunched your nose. “I know like three guys and I would cry if I had to see them naked.”

She sighed. “Fair. Does it have to be a guy?”

*-You nodded regretfully. “It has to be the opposite sex. It’s annoying but I u

erstand why. It’s important to be familiar with both sexes.”

Your best friend air quoted ‘familiar’ with a ridiculous smirk.

“Shut up.” You huffed, trying not to laugh at how dramatic she had become.

“I think I know a guy, he’s an aspiring actor and model.” Your best friend added casually.

Groaning, you shot her a glare. “Why didn’t you say that right away?”

She shrugged. “I like listening to you talk about your art.”

Her compliment almost worked, but you already knew that was partly the reason she was teasing you so hard. The other reason was because she had been trying to set you up with multiple friends for months. According to her, you had been single for far too long.

Her offer made you ponder deeper about your situation. You were slightly awkward when it came to getting to know someone, but you couldn’t imagine asking someone to strip right away so you could sculpt every curve your eyes grazed over. Whoever it ended up being had to be incredibly confident. Shallow yes, but that’s why you were hoping to find someone insanely attractive. Attractive people were usually confident, and responsibly so. “Maybe a stranger would be worse than someone I know.”

Snorting through her nose, your best friend stared at you like you were crazy. “Definitely not. If it’s awkward you never have to see him again. And if it’s not, well you can get cozy with a cutie.”

Taking a deep breath, you rolled your eyes. “I hate you sometimes.” You mumbled under your breath. You knew she was right, but you would never inflate her already enormous ego like that.

“You love me.” She sang sweetly.

“I do, now give him my number and tell him it’s of the utmost importance.”

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Days later, that conversation was on your mind as you nervously organized your sculpting tools. Trying to relieve some tension, you slapped a pound of clay against the table, and it echoed throughout the workshop.

Reality was the fact that this so called model boy was on his way to your studio. His name was Tom, and from the pictures you saw–he was incredibly handsome.

You couldn’t believe you had agreed to this, but alas, you needed this experience to pass your class. You just hoped and prayed that Tom was a lot more outgoing than you, and could keep the conversation flowing as you stared intently as his erect… penis.

Your cheeks flared up at the thought. How the hell were you going to do this?

Y/N: help (Y/B/F/N) I cant do this!!! im freaking out

Y/B/F: is he even there yet? lmfao

Y/N: noooooo :((

Y/B/F: if it makes you feel any better, he’s excited and thinks ur pretty

Y/N: why didn’t you tell me that before??!

Y/B/F: do u feel better now tho?

Y/N: no

Y/B/F: ik ur smiling ;) u aint slick

Giggling like a schoolgirl to relieve some of your anxiety, you set your cell phone on the table. Truthfully, your best friend had made you feel better. If anything bad happened, it would surely be a wonderful story to tell everyone in the future.

Your eyes naturally glanced across the room to the clock on the wall. 7:00pm. Tom would be here any minute as scheduled.

You took a deep breath and studied your surroundings. All your tools were in place, and the entire studio was tidied up as if you hadn’t worked the space in weeks. Next, you walked to the wall and glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

With your hair in a bun and your shabby working clothes, you looked suitable at best. You did have a little bit of makeup on to help yourself feel more confident. If you felt good, you could make your client feel good in return.

At least it looked like you didn’t try too hard. You didn’t want this man to get the wrong idea.

Then, snapping you out of your trance, there was a knock on the door.

You straightened out your shirt one last time, and tucked your baby hairs back behind your ears. Scoffing immediately after, you shook your head. Why were you trying to look cute? Who cares!

You rushed to grab the front door, afraid that you were making him wait too long. You flung it open, eyes locking with his right away.

You froze.

He was even more dashing in person.

“Judging by your cute outfit, I think I’m at the right place. Y/N right?”

And a British accent?

“Y-yes!” You flashed a smile to mask your obvious hesitation. You could easily play it off by opening the door and keeping your gaze averted. You were the master of smoothness.

“Thank you for coming, it’s about time I got this project done…” You tittered, locking the door behind him for privacy purposes. “You can set your things on the couch over there.” You pointed, eyes meeting his again when he glanced to the couch and then back to you.

“Awesome.” He nodded, holding your gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” You offered, nodding your head back to the small kitchen in the back of the studio. You wished the studio apartment was yours alone, but you shared it with multiple other college students in your program.

“Water… or beer if you have any?”

You threw your head back in laughter, causing Tom to smile at your genuine reaction.

“Yeah, I can get you one.”

“In the meantime, should I just strip?” He smirked, not trying to be sly with his flirtations. Though your cheeks were dusting with pink, you were able to match his energy. Your best friend definitely set you up with someone she knew you’d like.

“Do whatever you want, love.” You mimicked his British accent. “You’re the guest after all.”

Walking past him, you gave him one last look when he was fully-clothed. Tom was certainly the player type, practically the perfect embodiment of the muse you had in mind. This wouldn’t be awkward for you, and it would be even better for him. Men like him thrived off of cheeky discomfort in their female counterparts.

Yet, truthfully, you were enjoying it as well. It felt nice to be complimented so soon into an introduction.

As you cracked open a can of beer for Tom and yourself, you could hear him shuffling around with his items. The sound of his buckle falling against the floor made you suddenly nervous to turn around.

Inhaling sharply, and gulping down a few more sips of beer, you finally gained the courage to walk back to the studio setup, where Tom had already wandered over to, completely naked.

“You seem to be in your element.” You noted, trying to keep your eyes leveled with his. Now that you were thinking about it, remaining calm and professional was excruciating in front of such an attractive man. And it certainly wasn’t helping that he was enjoying your embarrassment.

And least this was exciting.

Thanking you, Tom took the beer and pressed his lips against the cold aluminum. “I would definitely feel a lot more comfortable if you were naked too, darling.”

“Hey now,” You nose scrunched in a form of mock distaste. The man caught on immediately, holding your gaze with a sort of amusement that was masking desire. “I might think about it if you sit nice and pretty for me for more than five minutes so I can sketch you.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you walked over to your crafting desk. You decided you were going to start with the hardest part, the part which your grade depended heavily on- from the waist down.

But first, you quickly sketched Tom posing in multiple poses until you were satisfied with one. You had him mimic a sculpture you couldn’t recall, where one hand was pointed forward and the other was rested casually on his hip.

“Can I see what one you want to do?” He asked curiously from the stand you had him propped up on for a better view.

“Sure.” You flashed him your finished sketch. The lines darted all over the page, making it hard for him to picture what was going on in your head. The picture you had drawn would not make sense to anyone else but the artist. But apparently you were talented, so he would trust the process.

You were also trusting the process. The situation you were in could only be awkward if you allowed it to be. And so far it was moving along smoothly. You had your favorite music playing softly in the background to fill the silence, and Tom seemed to be relaxed and unbothered by how quietly you worked.

“That’s cool.” Tom whispered, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Giggling from his sudden proximity, you tried to tease him. “It’s fine to not understand it.”

“I definitely don’t know what’s going on but it’s still interesting.” He admitted.

You set the paper back down on the table, and decided to attempt and sculpt the base. Moving past a still naked Tom, you tried to immerse yourself in your work, or at least make it seem like you were focused. “This takes hours you know, weeks and months- it won’t make sense for a long time.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “I’ll get plenty of time to know you better.”

Laughing through your nose, you kept your attention on the clay you had dropped on the floor. “You can put your clothes back on.”

“Oh!” He chuckled. “Yeah.”

As you carefully trimmed the base clay with a heavy frame, you lifted your head to find Tom slipping a robe back on. He definitely came prepared. Had he done this before?

“Come here.” You gestured. “I need you to set your feet down on the clay.”

“I didn’t think this would get dirty so fast.”

“Shut up.” You huffed, grabbing his foot and pressing it down hard until the clay took shape to the size.

“Cold.” Tom commented in discomfort.

“I know.” You released your grip on his calf, looking up at him with a sheepish smile. “All part of the process, but good news for you- you’re done for the night.”

“Really?” Tom raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

You nodded, standing back up to normal height. “I’m experienced enough to sculpt the feet and legs tonight.”

“When should I come back?” He sounded a tad too eager, but it caused your smile to reappear.

“Tomorrow night if you’re available.”

“And maybe next time you can bring your own alcohol?” You gestured to the multiple beer cans poking out of the recycling bin.

The man flashed you a smile. “Sounds like a date.”

“It’s definitely not.”

Despite your rejection to his amusing advances, Tom’s expressions and mannerisms remained hopeful. Was it possible he was truly enjoying himself?

“I’ll leave my robe here. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time?”

“Same time.” You confirmed, nodding him off. It was about time you started to really focus. Attractive man or not, you always got the most and best work done alone.

Because after the first night, the dynamics between you and Tom changed. He became incredibly invested in your process, asking you questions left and right, asking if there was any way he could help, and practically just lounging next to you hours after he would have been free to go.

“What do your sculptures usually look like?”

“Since this isn’t my own studio, I don’t have any of my pieces here. But I can show you a picture when I get my hands wiped off.”

“What do you build your sculptures with? It’s hard to imagine that a replica of me can come out of that much clay.”

“My sculptures are built with water-based clay and are fired in a gas kiln to cone 4, about 2150 degrees Fahrenheit… “ You nodded towards the back wall that had an installed kiln for you and everyone to share. “Trust me, there will be a lot more clay. Hundreds of pounds worth.”

“Can I help?”

“No.”

There was no lying that you enjoyed his presence. Whether he was talking your ear off or napping to the peaceful beat of your jazz music, there was never a dull moment when Tom was in your studio.

Weeks passed, and so did the process. Your sculpture of Tom had progressed to week three, and that’s when you started to grow nervous. When you finished, which you were almost done, would you ever see him again?

You had barreled through the awkwardness of replicating his genitals and chiseling his six pack perfectly into the hardening clay- but you still felt like something was missing. You knew even when you finished chiseling away his jaw line and chocolate brown eyes, there would still be something missing. Him. His presence.

Maybe it would have been better if you partnered up with a man that had zero personality.

Since it was just you and Tom for hours on end, your conversations gradually grew deeper, they stretched into new lengths, so much so that you eventually felt like you had known him for years.

When Tom claimed he wasn’t looking for a relationship, you felt your heart fall. That’s when you realized you were developing stronger feelings for your model. You hardly had time to think about trivial things like that, but you couldn’t deny your disappointment.

And you were sure he saw the brief tears glossing over your eyes when you turned away. Yet, he didn’t make light of it.

That’s when you knew it was useless.

It seemed useless until the sixth week, when you finally finished the head. You were too afraid to attach it. Tom had spent the last couple hours with you in the studio. His legs kicked back and occasional whistles streaming from his lips. He had practically memorized your playlist to the extent you had.

“Tom.” You called. “Your face is done.”

He cheered excitedly, pushing himself off the sofa and racing towards you. Tom had learned to give you your space while you worked, but in moments where you summoned him, he barely stood inches from you. The man would constantly touch you in ways you couldn’t deny sent shivers down your spine.

Like he did as he rounded the tabletop, planting himself by your side and placing his hand on the low of your back. As if it was natural.

“Wow,” He breathed. “Y/N,” Your name upon his lips sounded as blissful as the music. “It’s.. it’s wonderful. It looks just like me... wow that’s scary.”

“I’m happy you like it.” You bit your lip, wishing you felt more satisfied with your project. You wanted to impress him, but you didn’t want him to go.

“All I have to do is attach the head, and fire it up in the furnace one more time. Then it should be good to go.”

You moved to do so, wanting to remove yourself from his grip. It hurt your heart to know the bond you had formed with him would come to an end. Why did you even let yourself get to this point? Was it because he was good at flirting?

“Wait-” His sentence faltered when you whipped around to face him- looking somewhat hopeful.

“What?”

Tom paused, his throat tightening with the words he never thought he would admit. But he couldn’t leave tonight with at least trying. He needed to know how you felt. Because he could either leave with you in his arms, or he could leave never having to see you again.

He had been thinking of confessing to you for days now, but now that the time came, his mind was blank. “You really are beautiful, you know that right?”

“Why do you feel the need to flatter me?” You blurted, still unable to decipher the truth behind his words. You didn’t know how to accept such a compliment. Tom had claimed you were beautiful before, but this time it felt different.

His eyes spoke volumes. The beauty his eyes held was something you would never be able to replicate in a statue. It was a sight you found yourself never growing sick of.

Averting your eyes, you tried to move again. Yet this time, Tom gripped onto both of your arms.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I won’t let you play me.”

“I was never playing you, darling.” The tenderheartedness intertwined with his words caused you to slowly turn your head back. Your lip quivered, and suddenly you felt like a schoolgirl all over again. You felt childish and unprepared for the intensity of your emotions.

“I don’t want to leave tonight without knowing if you feel the same.”

You blinked, hand reaching out to grip onto his. “And that is?” 

“I don’t know if it’s love, but it could be.” 

“That’s all I needed to hear.” You said, incredibly softly. 

Tom released your arms. And before either of you could process what to do next, your lips interlocked. 

You gripped onto him tightly, balling his white t shirt into a fist to keep him from leaving your side again. 

“Tom-” You breathed. 

The kiss you shared was laced with a fervent need, one that you had never experienced before, and one that you craved again and again. 

After the passion you felt, the skin prickling desire, there would be no turning back. 

“Fuck, you’re everything”’ He mumbled against your lips. 

You pulled back slightly to gaze at his expression. He had looked so afraid before, but now he was smiling from ear to ear. Much like he did the day he arrived with a teasing attitude, ready to get under your skin and provide entertainment. 

“How long have you felt like this?” 

“Since the first day.” He kissed you again, his hands cupping your cheeks. 

You whimpered against his muscular frame, trying to ignore the fluttering in your core, fluttering that begged and craved for more. 

“How did you wait so long?” 

“I wanted you to finish.” 

You chuckled, cheesing at his straightforward, simple reply. 

You were positive from that moment moving on, that Tom was not what you had thought at first glance. This entire time he had put you and your project first, letting his own desires sit and warm on the back-burner. That was something you would hold close to your heart, something you would cherish. 

He cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 

“Stay with me tonight, Tom.” 

“I would love nothing more.” 

[damn-stark]

Something There

Chapter 6 of Dark Temptations

A/N- I had so much fun writing this chapter, I love it!! I hope you guys like it too!! Let me know what you thought?! (Also this chapter was inspired by the ‘Something There from Beauty and The Beast’)

Warning- Angst, swearing, violence, SLOWBURN, LOOONG chapter

Pairing- Dark!Poe Dameron x Skywalker!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Everything.” Snokes voice echoed behind you, seeing his reflection casted on the transparisteel as he stood closely behind you and asked, “have you heard of the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”

You look away from the transparisteel and see as he walks closer to you but only far enough to stay hidden in the shadows. “No.”

Snoke mused, “I thought not, it’s not a story your father nor your grandfather would tell you. It’s a sith legend, Darth Plagueis was a dark lord of the sith so powerful and so wise he could use the force to influence the midi-chlorians to create life. He said such knowledge of the dark side he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying.”

You blink and fully turn to face Snoke, getting basked by the darkness of the room and unwantedly feeling as if he were bewitching you with every word he uttered. “Really?” You asked curiously. “He could save people from dying?”

Snoke nods as a wicked smile grows on his lips, “the dark side of the force is a pathway to many abilities some consider unnatural. It’s a power your grandfather Vader didn’t even know, but one you could learn and become far greater than he ever was.”

Again you blink and this time you swallow thickly as you suddenly snap from your stupor, as you truly heard what he said; feeling an anger and sense of confidence begin to bubble inside of you that made you speak up against Snokes attempts; “you’re wrong about one thing Supreme Leader Snoke. Darth Vader was never my grandfather. Anakin Skywalker is.”

Snokes smugness drops and he shows a terrifying serious expression.

You notice it and your confidence falters but you continue, “whatever trick you're thinking of trying to pull off, it’s not going to work. I will not fall for the temptations of the dark side.”

“Not even to get your brother Jacen Skywalker back?” Snoke quickly counters, making everything you tried to uphold before slowly wither and shrivel up inside you. Something he instantly took pride in as he had regained the upper hand—“not even then, Skywalker? Hmm?”

You shake your head and take a step back, feeling the confidence completely blow away and your anger take over. “No. No. It’s not possible. He’s dead. Your apprentice made sure of that.”

“So your father never told you then? Never told you of a way to bring your brother back?” Snoke queried, taking your silence as a sign to continue. “There is one. A way to fully bring him back, but it’s a way that you can only know of course if you join me and my apprentices.”

You gulp. “Why don’t you tell me now and I’ll consider.”

Snoke chuckled. “Do you take me for a fool?” Silence again overcomes you but this time you shrug and show a faint smirk. He shoots you a glare before he finishes. “I’m not one, I know that the moment I tell you, you’ll run off and try, but what you don’t know is that the only way to achieve such a notion and know of the way, you have to join the dark side and leave your jedi ways.”

Your eyes drop to the floor and you respond with a low grumble, “I’ll never join you.” You look up at him with a glowering glare, “like I’ve said before, I’m a jedi, I will not fall for your temptations.”

Snokes pride doesn’t drop as he shows you an ugly grin, “we’ll see about that.” He steps back and looks towards the bright hall just as Poe joins you. Unbeknownst to you, grinning wider as he saw your eyes instantly find Poe’s—“take her back to her quarters, my apprentice, our girl here has a lot to think about. And after you do so come back to me, we need to talk.”

Poe nods stiffly, “yes, master.” His gaze once again goes to you and he walks over to you, trying to grab your arm but failing to do so as you pull it away from him. He scoffs and tries again, this time succeeding and gripping onto it tightly. Proceeding to pull you down the hall that was brightened by brighter lights, letting the silence and a tension build even as you reached the elevator. Occasionally stealing a glance each other’s way, shoving away the questions that were building within each of you, especially him. Only feeling your anger overflow inside you but unable to read a single thought inside your head as he tried to do it discreetly. Just adding pressure to the already built pain.

It wasn’t until the elevator doors opened did the tension and the pressure stop all at once, letting only the questions to linger overhead. One finally managing to be asked by Poe as he walked you down the hall with your arm in one hand and his helmet in the other. “What did he want?”

Your eyes meet his as you look at him from the corner of your eyes, frowning even deeper as Snokes words echo louder in your head the moment he asks. Now you didn’t feel like answering, but you did so regardless and bluntly. “It doesn't matter.”

Poe shrugs, stopping in front of your door before responding. “I mean you’re angry so it does.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, feeling a cold breeze as your door behind you slides open— “it doesn’t matter. Just leave me alone.” You snap. Making him scoff and take a step back before he retorted just as sharply.

“Fine, I’m sorry I was worried and asked. I won’t do it again.”

You huff out angrily at his comment and take a step back into the room, letting the door close in front of his face. Something that let your surroundings suddenly get engulfed by the darkness and coldness of the room. Making your shoulders drop and the mask of anger for him and his question fall at the moment the silence of the room echoed in your ears, noticing once more how lonely it was inside, having only your loud and cruel thoughts as company.

——

“And if they come back again? They most likely wanted to kill me, but found...Jacen first. I can’t be close. I have to hide and leave y/n behind.” Your father's voice sounded clearly in the room, the words making your heart crack and tears instantly fill your eyes, pulling away from Ben’s grasp as you burst into the room. The sudden interruption causing all three adults to look your way.

“You’re leaving?” You whimpered, looking to your father and trying to fight back your tears.

“Y/N.” He muttered, his eyes darting to his sisters across the table before looking at you once more. “I have to—”

“Without me? What about Jacen? Are we not going to go after the person that killed him?” You rambled, hearing your voice crack and feeling the need to let your tears fall burn your eyes; “I-I saw. It was someone in a mask...I-I saw. You can’t leave.”

He walked up to you and put both hands on both of your shoulders, letting his gaze turn assuring, but not his words. “We don’t look for revenge, as tragic as it was we don’t—”

“He was your son!” You cried as you pulled away from his touch and let your expression twist into one of anger. “And my brother! How are we not going to kill the person that killed him?!”

“Because it’s not right.” He argued, “you are a Jedi. We don’t look for revenge. It will only lead you down a dark path.” He sighed and tried to walk towards you again, hesitantly this time as he saw and felt your anger. “I know you’re mad and grieving, but we can’t. Promise me you won’t.”

Your lip quivered as you looked into his blue eyes, unable to respond with a definite answer as you still didn’t know what to do. You knew you wanted justice, but you also knew your father was right. The ghosts you talked to everyday always taught you that too. But he was your brother. Maybe the real debate was if he would want this? Jacen was daring and little more ruthless than most, he often did things that went against what your father would say a jedi should act, but Master Kenobi said those were just traits similar to your grandfathers and that Jacen was far from turning to the dark side. So would Jacen want to be avenged?

His body didn’t disappear so it meant he was no ghost, even if Master Kenobi did say that neither did Master Qui-gon’s and he turned into a force ghost. But unlike him, Jacen never appeared to either ghosts you talked to. They said that they haven't seen him or felt his presence. So it was impossible to really know. To get to communicate with him. So again it was hard to know if revenge is what he would want.

Is it something you want?

You look away from your father and look out the window, watching the darkness that the night brought as you thought for a moment. Only looking at your father once you came up with a response, “then promise me you’ll stay, or let me come with you. Please.”

Your father blinked and looked towards the ground as he tried to hide the sadness and pity in his eyes at the answer he immediately knew he was going to give. And once he managed to find the courage, he reached to cup your cheek and give his answer. “I’m sorry, but I have to hide alone. I can’t risk them finding you too. You have to go with your aunt Leia and stay with them, Ben will—”

“No.” You seethed as you stepped away from him, hearing your heart finally break inside your chest. “I understand you loud and clear. No need to further explain.” Shooting him one last lingering glare you turn around and storm out of the hut, hearing Ben instantly follow after you in the dead of night, no stars or fires to light the way you were going. Just storming off blindly in the darkness, hearing Ben’s footsteps track behind you as the only indication that you weren’t alone.

“Y/N! Wait! Y/N….”

——

“..hey, y/n.” Finn uttered as he basically ripped off the helmet off his head.

Looking away from the dark view outside the transparisteel you shift your body as you sit on the couch to face him with a small smile, greeting him just as warmly. “Hi, Finn. Good morning...or is it night? I can never tell here.”

Said man walks towards you and basically throws himself on the couch, “I don’t know either. But basing that I woke up a few hours ago, I’ll say it’s morning. Somewhere.”

You hum and turn to face him, noticing the lack of trays he always carried when coming to your room—“uhh, no food today? Are Poe or Snoke starving me because of what I said a few hours ago?”

Finn chuckled and shook his head, “no. Uh, Nomad ranted about you a bit after he came back from seeing Snoke, but he didn’t say anything about starving you. Like I would listen if he did.”

You grin warmly, “aww you’re gonna make me blush.”

Finn responded with a light hearted scoff, going silent as he locked his eyes with yours for a lingering moment until you looked away and broke the tension you felt building at the shared interaction, as well as breaking the silence with a clear of your throat before speaking up. “I do want to thank you...” you look away from the void space and turn to him to continue, noticing his attention had gone unwavered.

“...for taking your time to eat with me for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I really enjoy it. I enjoy our time together as well as your company.” Your voice cracks but you swallow back the lump in your throat that began to form and burn. “I’m not used to eating alone...I'm always used to eating with someone. Usually now my cousin Ben, or my aunt Leia, or my uncle Han and or Chewie. Sometimes all four. Or it would be Ahsoka before she got mad at me. I mean she can’t eat cause she’s a ghost but she keeps me company.” You stopped and took in a shaky breath of air, looking up to the ceiling to avoid crying as you exhaled just as shakily.

Finn took a moment to give a response. You didn’t know if it was because your words touched him or because he was speechless, but he stayed silent for a moment, enough time to let you look towards him again. Noticing that he was looking away and that his gaze had faltered even if a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t until he sighed deeply a couple minutes later that he finally turned to look at you once more, his smile still there but barely noticeable. He blinked and shared what seemed to trouble him.

“Nomad said that you should go eat with him at the mess hall. That’s why I didn’t bring food, because he wants you to go join him.”

Your smile turns into a firm straight line on your face. “Like alone?”

“He said if that’s how you want it, then alone, but there's people there now. Just people from his squadron, or well his inner circle, those he trusts most. So those we saw yesterday and a couple others. Oh and also Rey.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and shrug before looking away and responding quietly. “I don’t know...I like it alone. I’m not that good with people or well crowds of people I don’t know. I mean when it comes to fighting yes, but not when it comes to talking.”

“You don’t have to talk to anyone. And I’ll be there,” he paused and hesitated. “So will Nomad.”

You hum and feel your stomach grumble, the sound giving you your answer. “Fine, but only for a while and only because there's food.” Without waiting for a response you push yourself to the edge of the couch and step into your shoes before standing up, right away noticing that Finn was still sitting and seeming to have something else on his mind. A detail you didn't take long to question. “Everything okay?”

“Yesterday, when you stood up for those resistance fighters,” he began in almost a whisper, “why did you do it? You were willing to give your life for them, why?” He asked as he looked over to you with a troubled gaze.

You swallow thickly and answer almost instantly. “Because it was the right thing to do. They were going to kill them because of my mistakes, it wasn’t right, so I wanted to take the fall, it didn’t matter. But they….ended up dying so, I guess I didn’t try hard enough.”

Finn blinked, “when do you do the right thing? How do you know?”

“Uhh,” you pause and look towards the ground as you find it difficult to answer. “It’s just an instinct I guess. No one gets to tell you when. It’s something you have to decide on your own.” Your gaze drifts to his still rather troubled person. Making the curiosity inside you grow tenfold. “Why—”

“What about the force?” He cut you off, “what is that?”

“Well the force is as my father puts it; is not a power one has. It’s not all about lifting rocks. It’s an energy between all things. A tension, a balance, that binds the universe together.” Your eyes narrow on him and you tilt your head slightly. “Why? Why all these questions?”

Finn shakes his head and shrugs, his gaze still looking troubled. “Just...curious.”

You let out a soft hum and watch as he stands up abruptly, walking around the couch and walking towards the door, stopping before it as it slid open and the lights from the hall casted his shadow inside the room. Pointing his head to the hall to wave you over, “come on, let’s go.” You hesitate for a couple seconds before you walk up to follow him out of the room. Walking down the usually empty hall in silence as he seemed to be lost inside his head. The only sound that filtered inside were the sounds of your steps echoing in the hall and later the door sliding open as he turned to walk into what you saw was the mess hall that he mentioned.

Seeing right away the new faces of the people he talked about. The ones that Poe supposedly trusted the most. There weren’t a lot, but definitely more than four. And as you walked further inside, you saw to the side in one corner the four from yesterday gathered around a table, while the rest of the mess hall was filled with different sentients and humans alike. In the far end you noticed was Poe with a group of girls around him, all batting their eyelashes and smiling sweetly. While he seemed to talk and talk about the force knows what; sitting across him from was the brunette you instantly recognized as Rey. She didn’t turn at the sound of the door, not like you could hear it with all the talking and scraping of utensils against the plates.

In fact no one seemed to notice either Finn or you until Poe ruined that moment as his gaze found yours, basically pushing the group of girls around him to the side and offering you an immediate charming smile. Seeming to forget what either of you said to each other only hours before. And once Finn and you finally reached his table, he looked up to you and greeted you in a very smug way. “Princess, I’m glad you came.”

You let out a huff of air, “are you really?”

He smiles wider. “Yes.”

“Hi,” Rey greets, a smirk tugging on her lips as she speaks in a mocking tone, “Princess.”

You scoff and ignore her greeting as you sit in front of her and in between Poe and Finn. Seeing as Poe pushed a plate covered by foil towards you and one towards Finn, looking at you mainly as he continued. “I got you a plate, I didn’t know what you’d want so I got you a little bit of everything.” You manage a small and feigned thankful smile as you take the foil off your plate. Picking up the fork to pick at the food before shifting your eyes to him one more. “I would have made you food myself, but if I made you food I would have to make everyone else here food. And well I think that gesture should be reserved for a special occasion.”

You scoff and lift your eyebrow, feeling your lips tug into a genuine amused smile. “You cook?”

He smiled sweetly and leaned in closer, lifting his thumb and then his index finger up to his lips to suck the nectar of the fruit he had eaten off of them slowly and one by one. The action making your eyes unexpectedly slide down to his lips to watch him, swallowing thickly as you begin to squirm in your seat before finally tearing your eyes away a little too late to go unnoticed. Feeling flustered (even more so) as he followed by licking his lips and whispering in a tone that made you shiver, “only for special people.”

You clear your throat and look down at your food, picking at a piece of fruit and shoving it into your mouth. Avoiding his stare as you swallowed the fruit and talked to him as you continued looking down at your food, hiding and hoping this weird flustered feeling would go away. “Uh...next time then.”

He hummed in agreement, “next time.”

You continued to eat and avoid the stares for a while until slowly all sound began to tune out, feeling as your eyes fixated on the plate that was soon empty and clean from the colorful foods that had once decorated on top of it, not necessarily focusing on the plate itself. Simply using it as a form to keep your eyes on something as your attention flew hundreds of miles away and you began to think of how you missed your uncle Hans sarcastic jokes; the way only Chewie and you would laugh at them and on occasion your aunt Leia. Usually though she disapproved of them. While Ben pretended not to be interested even though you would see him crack a smile.

You missed the hundreds of war stories Ahsoka would tell to keep herself busy as you ate, or the lighthearted bickering between her and your grandfather; on occasion hearing, Master Kenobi join in one or two here and there. You missed seeing the beautiful colors painted on a real sky, the greenery that D’Qar was filled with. The feeling of knowing your father was okay and hiding out in the depths of the galaxy. You just missed the force in general. Missed the comfort of having your cousin Ben around even if most of the time he was silent. Missed being free….

“I’m surprised you’re not out there flirting with your crush, Skywalker.” Poe spoke by your ear, disrupting you from your thoughts to focus your attention on him.

You sigh, “I said he reminded me of someone, Poe, not that I liked him.”

“Damn sorry. I was just teasing.”

You sigh again and push your empty plate forward, crossing your arms on the table before you mumbled out your response. “I’m just tired of being here.” Poe stays silent but you could feel his eyes on you, the feeling making you groan and turn to him. “What?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer this time, “I’m taking a couple of my troopers with me to a recon mission, do you want to come?”

You straighten out your shoulders and cock your head to the side, lifting one eyebrow to question his motives. “I’m not going to help you kill innocent people, nor fight resistance fighters.”

Poe shakes his head, “none of that. Supreme leader Snoke wants me to go down on this planet allied with us to check why they’ve gone silent. No fighting, just checking.”

Your gaze narrows on him to debate for a moment before your desperation to breathe fresh air and see a real sky beat you to answering. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.”

At your answer, Poe sat up straighter in his spot and offered you a smug smile.

——

As the ship slowly began to lower, your eyes drifted to look out the transparisteel, noticing the soft light green fields of grasslands surrounding the beautiful white capital city. Noticing the blue sky scattered with big greyish clouds that looked as if they were going to fully invade the serenity of the calm skies any moment now. The sight made you sigh and think how tragically beautiful it looked regardless of the storm that seemed to be brewing. Sighed in content as you knew you’d feel real fresh air circulate through your lungs. No more, for at least a while, of that artificial air that circulated in the piece of sky trash you were imprisoned on.

“Come on,” Finn spoke beside you in a more muffled voice due to the helmet on his head, one that hid his face just like how Nomads mask hid Poe’s face—only the thing that differed between the two was that your mind didn’t identify a masked Finn as someone else completely, not like how you viewed Poe with the helmet of Nomad on—Maybe it was due to the fact that every time you saw the masked face of Nomad, all you could see was that tragic day he killed Jacen. While without the helmet you only saw the familiar eyes of the man you knew before.

It was a dilemma. Truly.

Standing from your seat you follow Finn out of the cargo ship to question him. Mainly on your motives in being here. “Why exactly are you all here? I mean Poe said recon, but I don’t believe him.”

“Why not?” Poe answered for Finn as he passed by you, his helmet surprisingly off. “It’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you.” He continued saying over his shoulder as he made it past the ramp and stopped onto the field of long grass.

You narrow your gaze and lift one eyebrow to respond with a loud scoff. Still not believing a word he said whilst you continued to walk off the ship, feeling a small but happy smile tug on your lips as you felt the cold breeze hit your face, as you deeply inhaled some of that sweet and real air; As you brushed your fingers against the blades of the long grass. Only feeling your smile widen as you look up to see the sky, as you felt for a single moment the freedom that had been stolen from you. But only for a moment before Poe’s voice brought you back to the ground.

“You’ve ever been to Lothal before?”

“No.” You breathe, having no choice but to follow him and his small group towards multiple tall stone spires strangely arranged in a circle. “But, I know that Lothal isn’t only famous for their grasslands or Lothal cats, but the fighters they manufacture for you and your precious army.”

The corner of his lips tug into a smirk as he lets out a small huff of air through this nose before walking towards a large giant rock spiral in the center of the circle, “yes, we’re here because of what Lothal provides us. Or has been lacking in as of late.” He walks around the rock to use the force to throw aside a thin slab of rock that hid an entrance to the hallowed rock. “We’re here just to check though. See what we can spot from afar before we have to decide how to approach.” He continues guiding you inside where you see a small place with nothing to offer but grey stone walls and a cut out square on the wall that is meant to be a window. Noticing as well, spiral stairs carved out by the entrance that as you followed Poe up them saw that it led to yet another empty room, more carved out squares and circular holes on the walls.

“Finn, why don’t you look out of that one on the far right and I’ll look out of this one.” Poe instructed as he handed Finn a pair of binoculars, noticing Odette, the purple Mirlian walking up the stairs, her helmet off her head and under her arm—Poe smirked at the sight and lightly hit your arm and pointed to her with his head. Your eyes followed before he spoke up in an over nonchalant tone. “Odette, why don’t you stay by Finn and look out from this level. Princess and I will go to the third floor.” Said girl just offers him a pointed look and nothing else, while Finn remained clueless as to what was going on. Poe met your gaze and wiggled his eyebrows while a boyish smile tugged on his lips.

You eyed Finn and Odette before looking back at Poe before scoffing and walking up the last flight of spiral stairs, missing the way Poe shot Dario and Sibyl a thumbs up for his “job well done”, before his gaze shifted to you walking up the stairs, smirking before he took long strides up the stairs to quickly catch up to you. Quietly watching as you walked to a carved out hole and seemed to look out of it yourself—“see something?”

“I’ll tell you when I gain the ability to have super vision.” You remark in a more half hearted manner. Poe noticed and simply shook his head, putting on his helmet to look out the carved out square, moving his gloved finger to the side of his helmet to press on a button you presumed was to enhance and zoom in to the city. Leaving you with nothing to do but look out and admire the view of the white city from so far and so high up. “Have you seen something?” You question….Nomad as you turn to see him still looking out.

He shakes his head and looks down at his beeping comm on his wrist; tapping it once to sputter out the hologram of Rey. The girl not hesitating to speak as her eyes seemed to wander around as if looking out for someone or something. While her voice was quieter than usual. “BB8 and I spotted something, in the outskirts of the city hidden in what appears to be an abandoned garage. X-wing fighters.” Your eyes narrow and you fully pull your body away from the wall and watch Rey’s hologram. “Resistance x-wings. The marks on the ground are fresh, if they had been left here years ago, there would be no marks. They were just put here. Which means that Master Snoke’s and General Hux’s suspicions might be true.”

Nomad grunted and his other hand balled into a fist before he asked in a deeper voice. “What about actual resistance fighters? Anyone suspicious?”

“No, if they’re here, they’re not going to be out and about. Especially not if they’re here for secret meetings.” Rey spared one glance at Poe and spoke in a more teasing tone. “Ask Skywalker, she might know something.” With that the hologram cut off and Nomad slammed his fist into the stoned wall, ripping the helmet off his head and slamming it to the floor before he bellowed out

“Fuck! I fucking knew it.” He ran his hand down his gelled hair and breathed out deeply through his nose, snapping his head up to look at you with his red and angry twisted face. “What do you know? Huh?” He quickly followed by storming towards you and stopping inches before you, looking at you with an angry burning glare that made his dark eyebrows furrow. While also making his nose flare and his breathing heavy, as well as made his face red and for the veins on his neck to show, just like a small one on his forehead—and such a sight would’ve made anyone else nervous, intimidated or scared, but for you it did nothing of the sort. Instead it made you dangerously brave and snappy. An effect that only happened with him though because with anyone else you would be less so—there was also something you could feel upon noticing his anger but it was a feeling you couldn’t identify.

“What do you know, y/n!” Poe hissed as he stepped closer, “you better tell me before—”

“Nothing!” You interrupt sharply. “I don’t know anything.”

Poe scoffs and presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! You’re a commander and niece to the General. I know you’re not clueless, so. Tell. Me.”

“Like any of that means anything.” You scoff as you keep your eyes locked on each other. “I have the title because my aunt felt bad for me. I didn’t ask for it. And her being my aunt doesn’t mean shit either, I hardly spent time at base, so I’m out of the loop.” You point your finger at his chest and take a step closer to him to look at him with confident glare. “So why don’t you cool it on your anger issues and stop yelling at me.”

Poe huffs out and pushes past you, storming down both flights of stairs and commanding his squadron in the meanwhile. “Helmets on and weapons ready. We’re going after those rebel scum hiding in the city.”

Your eyes widen at his statement and your breath hitches. A fear for those comrades you knew were out there somewhere most likely doing a mission sent by their General. Or perhaps simply passing time in the city. Regardless of what they were doing you couldn’t let them die; so quickly you rush after Poe and push past his troopers that were quick to follow his command, following him out the hollowed out rock, grabbing his arm to pull him to face you—“don’t be an idiot.”

“Excuse me?” He sneered.

You swallow thickly and briefly look towards the ground. “What you’re planning to do isn’t smart. One, you don’t know where they are, you’ll just be going in blindly, and two,” you hesitate for only a second, blinking up to meet his unwavering gaze, “you attacking first is going to prove something. You say this planet has gone quiet and you think they might want to switch sides right?” He hums and drops his gaze on the hand you still had on his arm before looking at you again. “Well attacking first is only going to prove something and only make them shift closer to the resistance. Not only that, but you're only one ship, they have multiple. They’ll win and they will get all of you locked up. You need to be patient, search your feelings, Poe. I can’t search through mine, but I can tell you that they’re quiet for a reason.”

Poe places on hand on his hips and rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek, nodding slowly as his gaze wanders to the rocks behind you for a moment before he meets your gaze. “What do you suggest I do then?”

You shrug, “if you really want to know something...know where they might be or what’s going on, then go to the outskirts of the city, the poorest parts always know more than the richer. They’re also the ones most likely working on your materials, you’ll learn something there. But you need to be patient, you’ll know nothing from being harsh.”

His gaze narrows on you for a moment as he stays quiet and thinks.

“Trust me.” You try and assure him.

“Okay,” he nods, “fine I’ll trust you. We won’t attack.”

The corner of your lips tug into a half smile and you drop your hand from his arm, letting your eyes slowly study his outfit, “but you can’t go in your armor or your helmets.” You point out as your eyes meet his once more. “Too much attention. Go in regular clothing to blend in.”

Poe smiles smugly, “fine.” He shoots you a cocky and yet charming grin, “only because I’m trusting you.”

——

“Are you sure it’s going to be safe?” Otto asks Poe in a voice he thought was quiet, but was anything but that. “What if this planet is really allied with the resistance? What if her family is looking for her? Her father is a famous jedi who won the war before, there's thousands of people that would do anything to save the daughter of a war hero.” He shoots you a side eye over his shoulder as he finishes “whispering” to Poe, making you roll your eyes but stay pacing behind them and acting as if you were looking at passing small homes and people of all kinds, faking to be entertained by the items and or food vendors sold and tried to make you buy. Ignoring the obvious looks they would give you as they talked about you or rather Poe’s safety.

“It’s fine, as long as we keep low we’ll be fine.” Poe “whispered” in return, “plus the only commotion has been that they saw Han Solo in Takodana, but that’s all. Nothing else. We’re fine….”

Han Solo in Takodana? Hmm…just him? His visit might not be unusual since Maz’s castle is a sanctuary for smugglers, but he hardly likes going there. Could he just be there just cause or is he there for information on you? Is Ben with him?

Your gaze dropped like your shoulders had at the thought of them. The thought of them looking for you excited you, but it also worried you since you knew it was a dangerous task that could result in nothing good. Missions with your uncle Han hardly ever went perfect and always seemed to result in someone shooting at all of you, especially him, or him shooting at someone. You could only imagine how this mission would turn out.

“Plus,” Poe continued in a louder voice, “she’s okay, she has a hood on.”

“Ah, yes the power of the hood.” Sibyl remarked sarcastically, “she’s practically invisible.”

Poe scoffed and slowed his pace so you could fall beside him, watching you silently for a moment as you continued “admiring” the white city you walked past. Only managing to talk after a moment of utter silence between the both of you. “I’m not hearing anything in regards to what I’m looking for.”

“Obviously,” you snap as you turn your head to meet his gaze, “you’re not going to hear anything on the busy streets, you have to talk to people, go inside taverns or talk to vendors. You need to be patient.”

“I don’t have time—”

“Which is exactly why you’re not as good of a fighter as you think you are, nor a good force user.” You counter before stopping by a stand of sweets, smiling down at the sweets you knew were imported from Naboo.

“Okay then teach me.” Poe commented as he stopped beside you. “You’re the best Jedi I know, you’ve always been good. Teach me.”

You chuckle and look at him to check if he was joking. “You’re….” You cut yourself off as he didn’t break into a laugh like you had, the serious expression on his face finally making your laugh die down and your smile to drop and a warm feeling to grow on your cheeks. “I dont—I can't use the force thanks to the injections your master makes me take. I can’t teach you. Plus even if I could. I-I you’re full dark side, that’s not my area of expertise.”

Poe gave a light chuckle and gave the vendor a couple credits before taking the bag of sweets off the table and picking your hand up off your side to carefully place the bag on your hand. Closing your fingers on the bag to secure your hold on it as you looked at him in slight bewilderment to what he asked. He offered you a smug smile before he continued, “I’m not asking you to turn me to a Jedi, I’m asking you to teach me some lessons on how to be a better force user and a better fighter. How to be patient. Snoke will only teach so much.”

Your cheeks burn hotter and you shake your head slightly, glancing down at his hand still on yours before you gently pull it away and sputter out your response. “I-I. You have Rey. She’s a good fighter and a great force user.” You move around him and continue walking down the street, maneuvering past the crowd of people and spotting Poe quickly catch up. “Ask her.”

“Anger isn’t the best teacher.” He commented, making your eyes snap to him, “she’s harsh, patient maybe, but not like you. Plus you’ve been taught by great force users. You know far more than her. Come on, just a lesson or two?”

You come to a full stop and turn to look at him, noticing how much more human he looked without his uniform on and in a white button up shirt; that was as you now noticed, slightly unbuttoned and exposing part of his sun kissed chest. His hair was a little bit more wild then his well styled and usual over gelled hairstyle in a manner, revealing the curls you knew he had. He looked almost kind and not as intimidating even with the scar on his face, he looked….and this is something you’ve noticed since you first met him, he looked—wait. Whoa. No. No. Ha. No. Ha.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat you blink a couple of times as you thought of the response you already knew. “Fine.” You breathe, “but just two lessons and you don’t get to be your usual uh, cocky self, or you know stubborn. You’re going to listen.”

Poe smiled smugly, “got it.” He met your gaze and smiled wider, making your cheeks grow warmer to the point you had to shove past him and pick up your pace to catch up with the rest of his group. Walking into a quieter part of the city, a side where it still looked as poor as the part you had just walked out of, but lonelier and not filled with vendors or as many people. There were people here and there, kids that looked like they had missed a meal or two, or a couple. People asking for money and some that looked like they were up to no good. Basically looking like a typical street worn out by the raging wars and the side they were trying to provide for. Usually sides like the First Order who were too busy with themselves to worry about what happened to the planets they promised peace and well being to.

It was usually planets like these that realized that they allied with the wrong side when it was getting too late. And it was the people with less who suffered most—you sigh and tear your eyes away from the people you passed to look ahead but speak to Poe who still insisted on walking beside you; “we’ll probably find a nice tavern or cantina close by that you can question shortly.”

“There.” Dario points out, “at the end of the street. A tavern.”

Your eyes follow to where he points and see the tavern he spoke of, spotting right away multiple people around the white tavern, some looking like the locals here and others just like passing people like you. Part of you...actually all of you dreaded walking and letting them question people. If their suspicions were true and the resistance was here to cut a deal with Lothal then nothing good was going to result in the fighters here, nor the ones at base, or the people here. But hopefully, they weren’t going to find anything and Poe would have to head back to the capital ship empty handed, with no harm caused to those resistance fighters.

“Remember ask, but let’s not make it too obvious. We want to know as much as we can.” Poe explained to his squadron, who nodded in agreement as you all neared the tavern. “If we’re too—” before he could finish his sentence, his words were abruptly cut off as a couple kids shoved past the both of you, all three kids looking back, but not at you, but at the people who followed and rushed past you with their guns out and shooting at them, laughing as the kids fell to the ground when three other people guns blocked their path ahead, leaving no room to escape or chance as the blasters were pointing at them.

“We’ll give you to three boys, return what you stole or you’ll pay for it with heavy consequences.” A large green sentient asked, grabbing a smaller boy off the ground and threatening him with the blaster on the side of his head, “one, two—”

Just before you could stop them, someone else you didn’t expect did so first, “hey! Leave the kid alone!” Your head snapped to the man standing beside you and watched his outburst with a widened gaze. “Leave them all alone.”

The green sentient dropped the kid and turned to face Poe with his gun instead, making those people beside him point their guns at Poe’s squadron who had their hands on the handle of their blasters, ready to protect and fight for their general. Before they could pull out their blasters, Poe put his hand out and signaled them to remain calm. While you continued watching and listening in shock.

“They stole from me!” The green sentient countered, “am I supposed to let filthy street rats like them get away? No. They get taught their lesson for stealing, so stay out of it scum.”

Poe narrowed his gaze and scoffed, eyeing the kids and things they had in their hands before glaring at the ugly sentient again. “You’ll kill them for a bag of bread? It seems to me like you could go without it. They’re just kids, leave them alone. I’ll pay for what they took and you’ll let them go without harm.”

The man chuckled, “you pay and I get my stuff back too.”

“Not how it works. I’ll pay only, you don’t take their food. Let them go.” Poe urged again, making the sentient laugh louder and for his people to do the same. And before they could shoot at Poe, said man pulled out your purple lightsaber and threatened them, making all of them halt and falter. Eyeing the purple blade pointed at their leader you supposed and Poe, all running off like cowards before the green one followed without anything he was offered. All while you watched in the same state as before.

Poe deactivated your lightsaber and hung it back on his side, approaching the kids with a soft and assuring look, crouching down to help the one that had been threatened before and offering his hand. The boy took it and offered Poe a thankful smile. While your shock dropped and you were left with a conflicted and almost soft look as you continued watching Poe’s surprising actions, hearing his words intently; “here, some money. Take it and use it wisely. No more stealing from people like them, okay?” He leaned in closer to the group of boys and whispered loudly with a smirk on his face, “or at least don’t get caught next time.”

The boys laughed and thanked Poe before running off, finally letting the crowd watching return to do their own thing again, causing you to fully realize what happened. What Poe did to save the kids he could’ve let get killed and ignored. But something he didn’t let happen. He didn’t question standing up to them. He-he acted like someone you didn’t know was there anymore. Like someone that left you speechless and view with a change and some sort of admiration. Think that there might be something there that he didn’t show in a long time, that you admired and liked before. That you liked now. A side of him that truly made you smile.

And before he could notice you staring at him in the soft, admiring way you did just now. You looked away and let him walk past you, following him into the Tavern without talking of what happened. Getting once again surprised that he was not gloating his heroic actions. Not like you wanted to ask either. You let it happen and let the topic go unspoken, instead focusing on the task they needed to do. Sitting down in silence in your own table and letting Poe’s squadron and him actually be discreet and smooth of their motives. Feeling ignored all by yourself, actually wishing Poe didn’t tell Finn to stay on the ship with Odette. At least then you’d have someone to talk to. All you had now was the sweets Poe had so nicely bought for you and a cute orange and black Loth-cat laying by the window you were near, taking in the last rays of sun before the grey clouds swallowed them and left only a grey and dark painted sky.

The loth-cat eyed you and you smiled, standing from your seat and walking near, taking out a piece of your snack and offering it. The cat tilted his head and sniffed the air, leaving the chance for you to raise your other hand and reach to pet its head. Only before you could touch its fur, the cat opened his jaw and bit your fingers, crawling back and growling at you.

“Ow! What the hell?!” You wince, pulling your hand back and lifting it to put it before you and see how red the tips of your fingers had gotten already. They weren’t bleeding, but it hurt a lot. “You little....Ow.”

“You disappoint me, Skywalker.” You hear Poe’s familiar voice say behind you, making you scoff and continue shaking your hand as if that were going to make the pain go away—Poe crouched down beside you and took your injured hand to examine it, offering you a teasing smile, “you’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say, it doesn’t hurt you.” You complain, glancing at your hand still in his before you once again pulled it away. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Yeah, it’s like you said. Took some patience, but it happened.”

You remarked smugly, “told you.”

Poe answered with silence and pulled his gaze away to look at the Loth-cat still close by, pulling out some food pellets from the pocket in his shirt and extending his hand, waiting and coming out successful as the cat came and ate from his hand. Leaving you once again surprised—“you approached it abruptly, it probably thought you wanted to hurt it and attacked first.” Poe explains. You gasp softly at the cat still eating calmly and letting Poe pet its fur, looking at you once it was done and hissing at you before it crawled back—“here.” Poe says as he takes your hand again and pulls out more pellets. When did he get those? Who knew—“let them come to you.” He puts the pellets on your palm and leaves his hand under yours.

You turn to face him and remark, “if it bites me and I die, I’ll haunt you.”

Poe snorts and meets your gaze with a soft smile. A smile that made your cheeks begin to feel a warm sensation again and make you feel some sort of way you couldn’t quite make out. Whilst also making you look away before he could notice. Hearing his voice by your ear and getting a shiver down your spine; “okay, but I got you, it’s not going to hurt you.”

You hide your smile and look at the now defiant cat. Growing rather impatient. “It’s not coming.”

“Be patient.” He teased.

You glance at him and shoot him a pointed look. “Hilarious—” before you could finish your remark, the cat approached slowly and ate the food off your hand making you grin and turn to show Poe such a gesture. Almost as if this was the greatest achievement ever. Before the loth-cat could go away, you slowly reached your hand and pet its fur, the action making your grin wider. Even if it was a short encounter it made you feel happy, a feeling that had lacked as of late. Unbeknownst to you, a gesture Poe noticed, just like he noticed the glances and hidden smile you just made. Noticing as well that you let his hand touch yours. More than once. He didn’t comment on it however and let it happen a while longer before he stood up and helped you to your feet.

“Let’s go back, Finn is waiting for us.”

Your smile drops at the realization that you had to go back to the piece of sky trash and once again get locked in the room you wanted to get out of. All the illusion of the events of today slowly fell and a heavy feeling weighed down on your entire body. Making your steps slow and lack behind the group as you walked out of the tavern to see that Finn was literally waiting on the ship a few feet from here, floating a few inches off the ground—way to keep it lowkey.

Right as you were going to drag your feet towards the ship the sound of your name, or rather fake name you grew accustomed to came from someone familiar who wasn’t Poe, making you stop and look behind you. Noticing behind the cloud of dirt the ship made, a dark haired, brown eyed girl you knew from base. Mara. “Jaina?!”

Your breathing hitched and your eyes widened, noticing that more of the squadron you once commanded appeared behind her too. Making your heart race inside your chest as fear spiked through you. Mara pulled out her blaster after noticing the people you were with and pointed to Poe as he walked up behind you. He noticed. Of course he did and grabbed your arm, looking between you and Mara. Letting you fear for a second as he stopped and did nothing but grab your arm that he was going to kill them. Because you knew that he knew who they were, that they were the resistance fighters making a deal with Lothal.

But as the eternal and dreadful minute passed with him just standing and looking, he did nothing. Causing you to shake your head as Mara tried to walk towards you with her blaster raised. She didn’t want to understand at first and wanted to try and shoot Poe, but you shook your head again and mouthed “no”, shooting her glare to make her finally understand that she needed to stop.

“Come on, sweetheart let’s go.” Poe said as he pulled you with him, having Finn in his trooper suit help you on as Poe climbed on himself. Letting you as you stood firmly by the ramp look back and watch Mara with a watery gaze. Only, not because she really meant something, but because of what she represented, the people she was going to see that you missed and could only see by memories.

She called your fake name again, “Jaina!” And you ignored it, looking down as the ramp slowly closed and blocked out the image of her, blocked out what she represented. Leaving you to see nothing but a dark and empty wall.

——

Luke’s P.O.V

Luke’s lips parted at the sight of the silver and black hilt inside the small box. He didn’t know what to do or what to say, he was left speechless and surprised. He never thought he’d see the lightsaber that he once used ever again, he thought it was forever lost. But alas it wasn’t and it was here in front of him, calling him.

He moved his hands to pick up the hilt, exhaling a deep shaky and pent up breath he didn’t know he was holding in, stopping mere inches away the lightsaber and examining it for a moment. And once he moved again to pick it up, the hilt instantly felt familiar and yet heavy. He’d forgotten how heavy they really were; it had been so long since he’s picked one up. He remembers the same feelings had passed through him as he got it for the first time. Familiar and heavy. And just like the first time there was some amusement and content. He felt happy picking up the lightsaber that once belonged to his father, to have it back with him.

With that, Luke turned the saber in his hands and held it with one hand, turning it upright to activate it and see the blue blade emit from within, seeing as the blue hue engulfed the whole room in its light. The action, the scenery of everything being casted in the blue light making him smile, but not one that lasted long as suddenly everything around him changed. Suddenly he seemed to be looking outside transparisteel, spotting squadrons of stormtroopers all perfectly lined up, throwing their fists out at something their higher up said. And right as he was going to question his dark surroundings he heard a voice he recognized.

“What could you offer me?”

Luke turned quickly and his eyes widened at the sight of his daughter. “Y/N.” He tried to move forward to grab her, but he then noticed the tall, pale and thin sentient in his gold robes behind her, offering a wicked smile as he pointed out and spoke in a cold voice. “Everything. Have you heard of the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?” Luke gasped and tried to move forward again, bellowing out “no.” But as soon as he did, he stumbled forward and seemed to be transported into another room.

One where the almost blood red lights seemed to illuminate the path in the room. A room that sent shivers down his spine as he noticed the cold feeling, as he noticed the red drapes as his gaze slowly lifted, spotting in the middle of the red room, a circular metallic throne and someone sitting on it. Not the ugly sentient with the gold robes, but someone else, someone smaller than the sentient was, a woman it seemed, her face hidden under the hood of the contents of her black hood. Luke tried to move towards to see if he could identify her, wanting to see more than an elegant black ring on her finger and a lightsaber hilt in one hand.

But as he took a few steps forward, the woman lifted her head. Her face was still hidden, the only thing that he could see were her yellow-red eyes. He gasped and froze, hoping that it wasn’t his daughter, that the dark side hadn’t presusaded her. He hoped that she would be stronger, he couldn’t accept that it was her. He tried again to move more forward, but before he could take another step forward, he heard the familiar sound of a lightsaber ignited behind him, the soft hum as it stayed activated and casted yet a blue hue. As Luke was going to turn and identify the new mysterious person, he was brought back into another room. A dark one that was only lit by the lights of the silver and white stars outside yet another transparisteel. In front of the transparisteel was a girl on a couch looking out at the void of space.

Just as he was going to approach her, a door behind him sounded and someone called her name. “Y/N.” She turned and immediately a smile spread on her face, one that made a relieved look spread on Luke’s face. The man that called to her passed through Luke, causing him to notice a stormtrooper in a black uniform. Someone his daughter called Finn—just before anything else could be seen, all of it suddenly disappeared and he was back in the storage room from before in Takodana, hearing a voice he recognized as Master Obi-Wans and one that belonged to Master Yoda’s.

“Help her as you once helped your sister, Luke.”

“Take his first steps you will help him do.”

“But.” He tried to argue the last sentence. “Him? Help who?” And as always before his questions could be answered the voices were gone, leaving only the room basked in the blue light of his lightsaber and the sound of its hum to fill the room. He sighed and deactivated it just as the door swooshed open, revealing four people.

“You’ve found it, Luke. Your father's lightsaber.” Maz Kanata spoke in an almost amazed tone as she stood in front of Leia and Han. “It called to you like it called to you before.

“Did it come with your hand too Luke?” Han joked, grinning at his own joke, looking around to see if his family would laugh and frowning and muttering as they didn’t. “Chewbacca and Y/N would’ve laughed.”

Turning back on the topic in hand, Luke looked away from Han and looked back to Maz as she continued speaking. “Go help your daughter, Luke. I’ll try and see what I can do from here.”

Luke smiled, “thank you, Maz.” He then moved towards the door, making everyone walk out to leave the hall.

“May the force be with you. With all of you.”

——

“Ilum is just a couple hours away.” Han announced over his shoulder as the ship blasted into hyperspace. “Do you think she’s going to be there?”

Leia’s eyes drifted to Han’s figure sitting on the chair and she shot him a glare from her seat, one Luke knew how to identify the reasoning behind. And yes it was okay to talk about her, he wasn’t going to get mad over something as simple as talking about her. Not only that, but he was somewhat assured of her well-being from the visions he had; he might not know if they were old or new, but he had to take them as a piece of assurance.

“Maybe.” Luke answered, pulling Ben’s attention from his seat. “I saw a vision when I grabbed the lightsaber—”

“Was she alive?” Ben interrupted as he completely turned his seat to face Luke with a concerned look.

“As far as I could tell,” Luke responded, noticing Ben’s sigh as he leaned back in his seat and averted his gaze once again, only hearing what Luke had to say. “But I don’t know if she was in Ilum. In the vision I saw her looking out transparisteel, so she might still be on Snokes capital ship. But going to Ilum is still our best bet to know where in space the ship is.”

“What else did you see in your vision, Luke?” Leia asked, her brown eyes expressing the same exact concern Ben had only moments ago.

Luke blinked and looked down at the lightsaber in his hand, “her mostly. All except for one. One where I saw someone hidden under a dark hood and only showed eyes of a sith.” Hanging the lightsaber back on his side, his eyes slid back to Leia and he continued, “it’s what Master Yoda told me that has got me confused. He said I have to help someone take their first steps...but I don’t know who it might be. He didn’t tell me...like always.”

Leia smiled, “we’ll know with time.”

Just as Han was going to open his mouth to add a quip, a beeping sound came from the co-pilot's seat, followed by a blue hologram that sputtered out now that Luke tilted his head to see it had been Ben’s comm. The whole room silenced as soon as the imagery of a pretty woman with a thin face and curly hair showed and spoke with a thick accent. “Ben today while I came to Lothal I found something that reminded me of you, I—”

The imagery quickly cut off as Ben’s hand covered the comm with his hand; Said boy suddenly standing from his seat, showing his winded and surprised eyes before leaving the room without saying a word, leaving behind a silence that caused shared confused glances to pass around. Something that was broken as Han, Leia and Luke broke into laughter that echoed throughout the whole room and down the hall, bringing a happy and sweet reminder of how their own past once was.

——

“You know I thought years of flying would cause less crashes,” Luke complained with an added groan as he felt the soreness in his body from the crash landing Han had done as they arrived on the snow covered planet. “Guess not.”

Hans eyebrows furrowed as he turned to look at Luke with a narrowed gaze, “well why didn’t you fly, hot shot?” Han’s ego was only wounded more as Chewbacca added to the complaints with a compliment towards Luke’s flying. “It doesn’t matter if he blew up the Death Star!” Han remarks before turning to his wife, “Leia are you going to back me up here?”

Leia simply shrugged, causing Han to scoff and for his eyes to widen as he threw his arms up in over exaggerated disbelief. Something that brought silence to the group as their shoes crunched through the white blanket of snow that decorated the ground in a beautiful manner. The white sparkling snow that the sun rays danced on bringing a peacefulness that contrasted that of the ugly buildings that the first order invaded this planet with. An ugliness that spread as more and more of the First Order was shown the closer they got to the building they snuck through to get inside and finally feel some warmth on their bodies.

“Now where to?” Han asked as he basically threw his jacket off his body once the elevator doors opened, revealing just grey walls lined with white lights. Leia poked her head out the doors and kept her blaster raised as she looked from side to side down the halls. Gesturing for the group to follow her—which they all did without a second thought. All sneaking down the silent halls until she bumped into a pair of stormtroopers.

The white armored stormtroopers froze at first before they were smart to get their blasters out and speak on the current scene. “Hey! You’re not supposed to be here—” before they could finish, they were both flung to the wall on Luke’s left side, whilst one dropped to the ground as the other began to struggle for air. Luke looked over his shoulder to see Ben walking past him and slam the stormtrooper to the wall as he walked close to speak in an unfamiliar voice.

“I need something.”

——

“I still can’t see anything in this thing.” Luke complained as he moved the white helmet on his head slightly as they all snuck into a small room filled with computers.

“Insert the passcode.” Ben ordered sharply as he pointed the end of his lightsabers blade to the trembling stormtrooper. One who didn’t hesitate to do as commanded, making all the screens light up and causing Ben to hand the captured stormtrooper to Chewbacca as he began to search. Making Luke’s gaze narrow on the screen that blinked red as his daughter's name did not appear on any prisoner log, Ben typed again and again and nothing showed. It made Luke wonder only for a brief second if what he saw was wrong, but it was a fleeting second because he assured himself that she was alive. She had to.

And by the feelings Luke could now feel from Ben. The anger. The desperation. He needed her to be alive too. Why wouldn’t he? After all y/n and Jacen both gave him a chance when Luke doubted. The anchor Ben had to the lightside was hanging by a thread. Ready to break in half and be where he once was. Confused and afraid, tempted by the dark.

“Here.” Ben pointed out loudly, pointing to a picture of a man named Nomad. A man Luke recognized. Poe Dameron. “I found the tag of the ship they’re on. She’ll be in the same one.”

“Is that Poe Dameron? Shara and Kes’s kid?” Luke questioned as he kept studying the picture that was attached to the file.

Ben answered with a stiff nod, before the computers went off, “yes. He once was.” He answered bitterly—Luke blinked and he felt his eyebrows knot, he wanted to ask more, know more. He recognized the name “Nomad”. It was the name of the person who killed Jacen, but why was it attached to Poe Dameron? Why did Ben reference him in a past tense? Could he? Could he be the man under the mask? It wouldn’t make sense, he was best friends with Jacen, brothers basically. His parents were also both part of the rebel alliance...why would he turn against everything they went for? Was it their misfortunate deaths that sparked such a turn? The boy was an orphan at a young age, with both parents dead after the war. Was it because of their deaths? It couldn’t. Why?

Just as Luke was going to ask, an alarm blared around the room and echoed out in the hall, causing all heads to turn to the stormtrooper who’s one hand was under the desk, visibly trembling and fear spiking to the highest levels—“rebel scu—” just as the stormtrooper was going to finish his insult, Ben’s lightsaber impaled through its chest, instantly causing it to go limp and fall to the floor as Ben deactivated his blue lightsaber. Looking at the group with a silent look, moving past everyone to walk out of the door and see the red lights flash and shouts to be heard down halls, causing the group to hurry out the room and run towards where they had come from. Skidding to a stop to turn to another hall as a squadron surprised them.

Shots fired from the opposing team, just like they did from Leia, Han and Chewbacca. Shouts of commands to stop sounded too, but those were ignored and tuned out as the same beeping from Ben’s comm went off, sputtering out the same woman from before seconds later. This time looking more stressed than before and this time making Ben freeze as her words hit his ears.

“Ben! I just saw Jaina! I saw your sister.” She shouted urgently, causing Ben to gasp and grow visibly stiff, radiating off a feeling of relief but also fear and anger at her announcement.

“Where?” Ben urged.

“Lothal.” She replied quickly, her eyes drifting from Ben and something beyond her. “With….with The First Order. They have her. She went with them, but I know somethings wrong, she seemed wrong. I’m going after her...”

Ben turned to Luke with a glazed gaze, “it’s y/n. They have her. She’s alive.”

.

.

.

.

A/N- Now I know I know Kes is alive in canon, but for this story he is going to be dead just like Shara, okay? Okay....Sorry Poe :(

Tagged- @thescarletknight2014 , @softly-sad , @golden-guide​ , @abysshaven , @a-dorky-book-keeper , @kit-jpg , @mybarnesmyhero , @zoeyangels

(The ones in red it didn’t let me tag)

Permanent taglist- @ms-dont-care , @commondazy , @paintballkid711

[buckstaposition]

I cling to your lips like gloss (1)

a Javier Peña x OFC story 

now also on AO3

author: @youhavereachedtheendofpie (if u wanna come say hello on main)

rating/warnings: swearing, mentions of character death

words: 5521

Author’s note: dude this chapter fought me every step of the way but it’s here now so suck it, muses or whatever

---

Tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @dindjarindiaries (thank you sweeties whom I will hold forever in my heart)

(message me if you want to be added to the list)

Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1 - The Informant

'Liliana' the file said. I was tucked away in the locked bottom drawer of his old desk, the one he hadn't even had time to clear out when they'd sent him away. To be fair, Javier had only known to look because Murphy had called him to tell him about this informant. It sounded too good to be true. An informant coming to them of their own accord, ready to spill valuable inside secrets of the Calí cartel, and they didn't even want payment? One would be forgiven, in their line of work, to smell a trap. But Murphy had vouched for this one, and he trusted Murphy, knew that his partner (former partner) did his homework with due diligence. That, and the first batch of intel Murphy had brought back from their first few meetings had already proven invaluable. 

There was apparently only one hiccup, and it was that the informant refused to talk to any agents other than him or Murphy. It had even led to Steve having to postpone his return to the States for almost two months, until it was clear that Javier would return to Colombia. Fair enough, he'd need to make up his own mind about them anyway. He collected the file and tucked it into the box that held all the stuff he'd cleared out of the desk, since he would now officially be moving a an office of his own.

Upon arriving in said office, he kicked the door closed and sat, lighting a cigarette and reaching for the file. As thin as it was, it still took him almost an hour to work through it, though half of the time was spent deciphering Murphy's chicken scratch mess of annotations. The rest was spent on making his own. After checking the time, Javier fetched himself a cup of the same old tar brew that passed for coffee here, lit another cigarette, and dialled Steve's new office number in Miami. 

"Murphy."

"Alright, I've read the file." Javier started without preamble. Perhaps that was a bit short. He grimaced, then added, "About the informant. Liliana."

"Yeah, I figured." Steve exhaled probably puffing away at his own nicotine habit. Javier meant to quit, but kept pushing it off. The intent was all there was to it, at this stage. "So what're you calling me for, big boss?"

Javier elected to ignore the taunt, knowing it was friendly. 

"You've met her. Is she legit?"

"Why, you smelling a trap?"

Pathological mistrust was a feature one acquired while on this job. Those who didn't ended up dead. Those who did would still end up dead, just later and more jaded. Either way you'd get a lot of other people killed on the way. "Just making sure." 

They spent the next half hour and a bit going over the file together, comparing notes, catching up, thinking aloud - all of which were much easier to do when they had each other to bounce off of. It felt good, almost like old times. Javier went through close to a third of his pack of cigarettes, the air growing heavy in the windowless room. Just as well that it was almost time to wrap this up. A look at his watch told him that it was getting late in the day, and that Steve would want to get home to his family. All Javier could hope for at this point was avoiding resident CIA-asshole Bill Stechner on his way out, at least on this day. 

"You won't be able to pull your usual shit with this one." Steve remarked, accompanied by the sound of shuffling papers. Javier bristled, even though he knew the things people said about him, both behind his back and to his face. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Knowing didn't mean it didn't, occasionally, sting, but he'd given up on trying to influence other people's minds long ago. A reputation once acquired was not easily shed, not that he'd made much of an effort to. 

"It means that you shouldn't. Pull your usual crap with this one. For one I hardly think it'll be necessary."

"That would be new." Javier snorted. He could hear Steve's eyeroll through the phone. 

"Still the same asshole-" Steve snarked. "I'm just saying be nice for once, especially since that woman's intel is the only reason you still have a job. She's a nice lady, so with a bit of luck some of that might even rub off on you." 

"And I'm the asshole..." 

"So everyone keeps saying." 

"Fuck you, Steve."

"Go fuck yourself, Javi." Steve's chuckle told him it was all in good humor. "And don't fuck this informant."

"Yeah, yeah," Javier waved it off. The woman was an accountant, for fuck's sake. Note exactly his usual type. Or the type he usually attracted. 

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

They were meeting at one of the small restaurants lining the edge of Parque Sabaneta in Medellín. Over the phone her voice had sounded... hesitant, above all else. Tinny, too, but he blamed the connection for that. And he'd brought her a satellite phone for future contacts; her driving out to remote phone cells and him waiting for calls after hours in his office just didn't cut it. 

There hadn't been a picture in the file, but Steve's description had been quite accurate and Javier was able to pick her out at the table she'd chosen before making himself known. Dark hair and darker eyes behind large, slightly old-fashioned glasses. She was almost tall and hid her figure underneath loose-fitted clothing; today a flowy blouse and high-waisted dress pants, and a bulky cardigan against the spring chill that lingered even into the late morning. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun that reminded him of his fifth grade math teacher, Ms Jenkins. Javier approached the table. 

"Diana Rivas?" She froze for a split-second before relaxing again, returning his greeting softly. In real life her voice was deeper than he would have anticipated, raspier too, but not unpleasant - the kind of voice one would expect first thing in the morning, just after waking up. 

"I do hope your drive was not too tiring, Agent Peña." she said as he sat. He grimaced slightly. The drive had been long, above all else. Not his first choice of how to spend a Friday morning. Well, he'd endured worse for this job. But next time he'd definitely travel by plane.

"Do they serve decent coffee here?" Javier scrubbed a hand over his burning eyes and settled, resuming his assessment. She squirmed slightly under his unrelenting gaze, but squared her shoulders after a moment, meeting his gaze head-on and motioning a waiter over with a flick of her delicate wrist. 

"Of course they do, this is Medellín!" She sounded mildly offended, then ignored him in favor of telling the waiter their order. Javier took the time to observe her further. 

No make-up, no jewellery, save for a simple, functional watch and a small silver locket on a long, thin chain. No wedding band either, but the paleness and indentation around her ring finger still indicated that she'd worn one in the recent past. Her features were soft and feminine, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin, all making her look younger than she purportedly was. His gaze caught on her defined cupid's bow just a second too long. Her complexion seemed far too sunkissed for someone who spent most of their time indoors, in air-conditioned office spaces. In conclusion, undeniably lovely to anyone with eyes who cared to look, but obviously taking great pains to discourage closer scrutiny, to look as mousy and plain as possible. It worked, to a degree. 

It occurred to Javier that maybe he should actually talk to her, since that's what he'd come here for. 

"Do you always begin your interrogations with the silent treatment? I can see how that might be effective." She beat him to it, just before the coffee cups were set on the table in front of them. 

"This isn't an interrogation." he groused, taking a tentative sip of the coffee. The scent of it alone was enough to wake the dead; it was heavenly. He'd have to see if he could weasel some halfway decent coffee out of his budget at the office. 

"Regardless, I only have until noon today. We can meet again tomorrow; I can make myself available all afternoon for you, Agent Peña." 

Javier huffed out a breath before taking another sip. "Why can you suddenly do Medellín anyway? You had Murphy travel across half the country to meet you." 

She made a face at that, something between annoyed and apologetic. "My aunt, she... she's sick and been getting worse. I make the time to come down here every other weekend now to help her."

"And your employers are alright with that?" He hadn't exactly pegged the Calí cartel for employers of the year. Or to pioneer part-time models so their employees could care for sick relatives.

"As long as the work gets done, yes. It means I work ten to eleven hour days Monday to Thursday, but I am the only one left in this family..." She sniffled a little and swept the tips of her fingers under the plastic rim of her glasses, wiping at her eyes. Javier looked away, pretending it was to give her privacy. He imagined this unusually forthright woman walking up to Pacho Herrera to ask for reduced work hours so she could care for her aunt- That could really have gone either way, but somehow he thought that was probably not how it happened, or whom she'd asked. He just couldn't picture it. Maybe one of the brothers; they liked to style themselves as charitable family men, to a degree.

"Anyway, Medellín's closer for you, and we're less likely to be found out here. They like to keep security pretty tight in Calí. My friend Angelika calls it the Calí Stasi, and she's from the former East Germany, so she'd know." 

He hummed in acknowledgement, his coffee almost gone and him almost feeling like a living human being again. He flagged the waiter down for another. 

"In any case, I am glad that we can keep this to Spanish now. My English is not very ...confident." She prattled on, sipping from her own cup. Murphy had told him that she'd brought a dictionary to their first meeting, and apparently, with his former partner's dismal language skills, they'd actually needed it. 

"I'm sure your English is better than Murphy's Spanish." Steve had told him as much, but then again, Steve's Spanish was shit, so it really wasn't saying much. There was something else niggling at the back of his mind. 

"Why me?" 

Her glasses slid down her nose half an inch or so in surprise at his -admittedly abrupt- question. "I'm sorry?"

"Murphy said you wanted to speak to me specifically when you first called. Why?" 

She hesitated a moment, squirmed a little and averted her eyes, then pushed her glasses back up her nose before answering, softer than before. "Gabriela said you could be trusted."

"...Gabriela?" He said sharply, neck flushing at the thought of the beautiful redhead. 

She shrunk in on herself, hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Perhaps his voice had come out a little bit harsher than intended. He hadn't even thought that she'd actually tell him her real name. He'd just been a client after all. 

"Yes," Miss Rivas breathed out, her voice so soft now that he had to lean halfway across the table to even catch it. "She's my best friend. We've been inseparable since the firts day of school. We tell each other everything. She told me she knew a DEA agent; that's why I told my cousin to go to her when she ran into trouble with Pablo Escobar-"

"Your cousin???" He almost roared. It came out as more of a whisper-yell, but she still flinched, eyes going wide behind the lenses. 

"Yes, my cousin," she said carefully, "Maritza Rincón." 

"Maritza–" he patted his pocket for a smoke and swore under his breath when he remembered how he'd left them in the car with the intention of advancing his 'quit smoking'-idea beyond idle talk. "What is this, a fucking trap? Very elaborate setup just to yell at me, missy. Unless you've got some buddies of yours here to–"

"What- what are you *talking* about? I don't blame you for Maritza's death!" By now people were staring. Not a lot of them, since it wasn't really the time yet for the midday crowd and too late for the morning rush, but the few pensioners and whatnot were definitely sensing the tension at their table. Javier gave up on his cigarette search and took a deliberate breath, willing himself to calm down. 

"Maritza is dead?" He hadn't known that. He wasn't sure how he would have learned of it, but it still shocked him regardless. He looked over to see her fidget with her locket, lips pressed tight and trembling. Shit. Another informant on his conscience, fucking great. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't-" he started, his voice catching. He bought himself time with his now lukewarm coffee, "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't know that. I-"

"It's alright." She whispered, in a tone of voice that clearly indicated it wasn't. She swept her glasses off with trembling fingers and pressed beneath her eyes, as if to restrain the tears that pooled in her lashes. 

"I'm sorry." Javier said again, insistent, soft, sincere. "What happened?" 

"We- I don't know. She called me to say she was in trouble with Escobar, and I helped her set up the meeting with Gabi."

"With me." He remembered that evening, that young girl sitting in Gabriela's apartment, ready to be sprung on him. Part of him had resented it; Gabriela had been someone he'd sought out to get away from the damn narcos and their dealings. Miss Rivas nodded. 

"Yes. It was that idiot Jhon. He was one of the neighborhood kids. Growing up he'd always had a crush on her..." She talked a lot, he found. It should irritate him more, the way she'd throw in seemingly irrelevant asides without explaining further. Instead he only found himself worrying that someone so pathologically honest could not possibly keep the Gentlemen of Calí off her tracks, at least not if she kept spilling her life story so eagerly. 

" ...and then she hid out on her uncle's farm again, where my auntie - her mom - grew up and went back to after my uncle - that's Maritza's dad - died of a heart attack. Auntie had been out for the day and when she came back- "

He can't bear to listen to it, but forces himself to anyway. In the sea of his regrets, what's one more? Besides, there's nothing else he can do for the girl now; the least he can do is witness how he failed her. 

For all her unassuming bluntness, Diana Rivas is not one to hold back, even on unsavoury details. At least he doesn't get the sense that she does it to torment when she tells him how they found Maritza's lifeless body with her young daughter next to her.  

By the end of that sorry tale, he has his head in his hands, Miss Rivas is still just this side of openly weeping, and all the other patrons have demonstratively averted their attention so as not to impose on what must, on the outside, look like an urgent case for a damned good couples' counselor. 

"I'm sorry, I know this is a lot." And why in the hell is she apologizing?

"No shit." And yeah, he has to digest this before he can even think of making any attempt at non-destructive human interaction. "You couldn't tell Murphy any of this?"

She gave him a look. 

"Yeah, alright. Sorry." More than just a language barrier, got it. 

"I didn't come here today with the intention to relive this, you know?" She said archly. He supposed she had all the right to be upset. And he'd never had a meeting with an informant turn this harrowing, which was really saying something. 

"I'm sorry." He said again, putting the weight of sincerity behind the words. Her hands were in the table now, fidgeting again as she sat slightly hunched over, staring into her coffee cup.

"Unless your government has a time machine to spare, I would prefer not talking about it again. At least not more than necessary." She replaced her glasses and checked her watch. "1 pm tomorrow?"

Javier nodded dumbly, already plucking a few bills out of his wallet to pay for the coffee. "Yeah, 1 pm is okay. Where?"

"Meet me at the church. Santa Ana. You know it?" He didn't particularly, as in he didn't know its name before now, but he could see the building's tall white facade from where they were sitting. 

"Iglesia de Santa Ana, 1 pm tomorrow." Javier confirmed, rising as she did. The stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how to conclude this meeting, until she stuck her hand out for him to shake. He took her smaller, slender hand in his, squeezing it wordlessly. 

"Until tomorrow, Agent Peña." She said, managing a sad little smile. "I hope you'll get some rest. You look like shit." 

Javier bit down every one of the snarky replies that sprung to mind, not least because he knew it was true. His bags had bags and he itched for a smoke.

And to think, this was Murphy's 'nice lady'. 

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

Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that at the church meant inside the church. Not until a very miffed face peered out between the heavy doors, giving him a look as he stood there smoking. 

"It's barely been five minutes!" Javier defended himself, stubbing out the cigarette beneath his heel. 

"It's 1:07pm." She informed him matter-of-factly, pushing the glasses back up her nose pointedly as she made to turn back inside. Javier caught the door, crowding perhaps a bit too close, but the damned thing was heavy. 

"Sorry." He said simply, seeing no point in making a scene out of it. She had to crane her neck just the slightest bit to meet his gaze. 

"Wait here, I'll be out in a minute." And with that she stalked off. Javi watched her sweep down the aisle, her hair and skirt fluttering behind her. She wore her hair loose today, the ends of it curling around her shoulders, and a simple off-white shirt dress that reached down to mid-calf. He let his eyes trail after her, leaning his weight more fully against the heavy wood of the door to lever it open. She walked around two thirds of the way down the pews before stopping by a... baby carriage? 

She bent over it before carefully wheeling it around and starting back towards the door. Javier racked his tired brain. The file hadn't said anything about a kid. Married five years but no children. That didn't seem like the kind of thing one would easily miss, and he knew Murphy to be thorough in his inquiries. 

"Who's this then?" He peered inside the carriage -more of a buggy really now that he got a closer look- and barely caught a glance of a dozing toddler with soft brown curls, while hoisting the door open wider to let her pass more easily. "Didn't know you had a kid."

"I don't." The buggy caught on the threshold and jolted, and a displeased cry came from inside it, making her curse under her breath. "This is Maritza's daughter, Salome. I've got it! Just- the door, just get the door!"

The last part of that came out high and sharp, much like the crack of a whip, and in direct response to Javier's attempt to swoop in and help heave the buggy over the worn-down threshold. He jolted back on instinct, grunting when the door swung squarely into his spine. Who the hell was responsible for all these old-ass church doors being solid enough to squash an actual living human between them?

After some fumbling they managed to make it out with most of their dignity still intact. Javier bent down and quickly shoved the bag he'd brought into the wire basket underneath the buggy's seat, next to her purse. 

"Where to?" He asked, straightening up again. Miss Rivas still looked cross, her lips pressed together.

"Follow along. There are some secluded benches a little walk away." And off she was, leavin him to catch up.

"If your intention is to disguise this meeting as just another family enjoying the sun I suggest you slow down a little." Javier hissed under his breath. He'd actually had to jog a bit to keep up with her steamroller pace. She looked even more annoyed and declined to grace him with an answer, but slowed with a sigh that told him that this was indeed her intention. It was a smart enough plan, he wouldn't dispute that. 

At least the kid seemed to have calmed from her little jostle-startle, seeing as she was now quietly babbling away as if narrating the sights. Javier tried to loosen his tense shoulders and to look like he was enjoying himself as they fell into step ambling along the walkways between the lush greenery. 

"How old is she?" he asked, thinking that perhaps some small talk would ease the woman's sullen mood. 

"Almost two and a half." Or not. Well, he tried. Javier wasn't exactly an expert with kids and none of his previous informants had ever shown up with theirs. Not that that would have been appropriate considering the circumstances. They walked for about a quarter of an hour, which Javier spent agonizing about how to smooth over the sudden mood change Miss Rivas was displaying compared to the day before. By the time they'd made it to their destination he was no closer to that goal. 

She sat with a weary sigh, shaking out her flowy skirt before sitting and rolling her sleeves up to her elbows. It was much warmer today than when they'd met previously, only in part due to the later hour. Stiffly, Javier sat down next to her at a distance that instantly belied their 'family outing' cover. She turned to him after checking on the baby, peeling back the sunshade of the buggy to allow her to look around. 

"You can smoke if you want to." Miss Rivas said offhandedly, her tone forcedly polite. Javier cleared his throat. 

"I'm actually trying to quit."

Her lips quirked into a pleasant curve. "And how's that going?"

Javier sighed. "I'm thinking I might have chosen the wrong time."

"Or the wrong job."

The laugh that bursts forth from him is short, but not altogether hollow. "Yeah, or that."

"Very well, then you may not smoke even though you might want to." 

Javier smiled. Couldn't help it, really. He had been worried that he'd somehow managed to offend her during their last meeting. He said as much, and she shook her head with a look of remorse.

"No, it's not your fault. It's just..." She pushed her glasses up and rubbed at her eyes, revealing the dark rings that had previously been hidden beneath the plastic rim. "Yesterday dredged up some things, and I didn't sleep well as a consequence. That always makes me snippy. And to top things of, this one," she leaned over to unbuckle the child and heave her into her lap, "was being fussy all morning, which didn't help. Sorry for being so short with you earlier."

"In this job, people usually shoot at me. It's alright, really. You're alright." Truth be told, he was glad she pulled herself out of this funk. Maybe she was as nice as Murphy claimed after all. The kid looked at him with large, round, strangely sage eyes. I got your mommy killed. I got your mommy killed and you had to watch. If he had gotten her that visa- The thought made him gulp, made him dizzy and nauseous and if there was anything to be glad for in this situation it was that he was already sitting down. Miss Rivas replaced her glasses and looked at him with furrowed brows. He felt like he was being read. 

"I already told you that I don't blame you for Maritza." Javier tried his damnedest not to squirm underneath that discerning stare. Screw read, he felt like he was being flayed open. "Obviously you still blame yourself."

"Wouldn't you?" He shot back, defensive. She didn't answer for a moment, gently rocking the kid who had grabbed a hold of her locket and started to play with it. 

"I have enough regrets of my own, Agent Peña." Part of him wants to scoff, even just to dispel the heavy moment, but the severity in her tone nips that impulse in the bud. Instead, he clears his throat and gestures to the buggy where he stored his bag earlier.

"I brought you something." 

Her features soften into not quite a smile, but something close enough. "What a coincidence, so have I."

And then she hands him the toddler, who lets out a displeased cry at having her toy wrenched from her chubby hands in so unceremonious a manner, and Javier freezes as her squirmy weight is settled in his lap, only his hand shooting out to steady her on instinct. Up close her big brown eyes are even more enormous. 

"Um, hi. Nice to meet you, Miss Salome. I'm Javier." He says awkwardly and is met with a pout. This is patently terrible and reminds him of the few times he'd been handed baby Olivia. She'd started crying instantly nine times out of ten. He hopes against hope that today will be a deviation from that norm. Salome considers him a long moment, blinking owlishly and making that certain kind of skeptical face that little kids so often do. He's had less tense moments in interrogations. He might be sweating in a way that has little to do with the midday heat. 

And then Salome blows him a raspberry and dives for his wrist to investigate the shininess of his watch. And when he can breathe again he allows himself a smile. Of relief, mostly. In stark contrast to the smile Miss Rivas wears as she regeards them both, which is pure mischief with a dash of smugness. 

"Well look at that. You passed muster, Agent Peña." Miss Rivas set both their bags down in the space between them, then leaned over to press a quick kiss to little Salome's soft curls. And Javier has been much closer to many women than this; his heart shouldn't lurch at the sudden proximity, the waft of her perfume or the light brush of her soft hair over his bare forearm.

"Ladies first." Javier gestured at the bags between them. She smiled and rummaged through hers, producing two thick stacks of folded papers, either parcel secured with a rubber band. 

"Trade you?" she motioned at the girl, who was now intently examining the fingers of his right hand. Reluctantly, he let Miss Rivas pluck the small child from his lap and stand her next to the bench. Salome frowned adorably for a moment at having been interrupted in pulling his pinky finger off, then realized she was free to roam around and brightened instantly, hitting the bench a few times with chubby palms and babbling. 

"Yes, of course I have your toy, sweetie." Miss Rivas said earnestly, presenting a brightly colored ball. Salome grabbed for it with a squeal, her momentum propelling her straight onto her backside. Miss Rivas turned back to Javier with that soft, fond expression still on her face and handed him one of the parcels. 

"Do... did you want to go over this? While I'm here to explain things?"

"That complex, huh?"

"Well, it's a lot to do with creative book-keeping and tax law loopholes. It's more about how they structure their business to launder their incomes than anything else, but it'll still be helpful in building a case, no?" 

It is, which is the whole reason he's been sent back here apparently. And while it's nothing the analysts back at the office can't handle (probably), he still likes being in the loop. And also maybe because he enjoys the sound of her voice. In any case he peels off the rubber band and unfolds the stack of papers, keeping a careful hand around it to ensure that nothing blows away in the spring breeze. Miss Rivas pulled out a pencil from her purse and shuffled closer. Close enough that he can smell her perfume again. - - - Over the following hour and a half Javier realized several important things: 

One. Diana Rivas is likely one of the cleverest people he has ever met. By page eight his head is swimming with numbers, but her even explanations make even tiered corporate tax rebate systems sound fascinating. Even in his line of work, he'd never truly considered accounting to be the stuff of suspense, but she makes it sound like a thriller that even the brightest heads in Hollywood would have trouble coming up with. 

Two. Having to do anything while keeping an eye in a rambunctious small child who is still learning to walk is a uniquely stressful experience. Little Salome is bouncing around the small patch of grass in front of the bench much like her ball, endowed with seemingly endless reservoirs of energy. She crashes into his knee a few times while chasing her ball or deciding that playing hide and seek underneath the bench is a better use of her time, and it puts him on edge that he feels responsible at all. 

Three. The Rodríguez brothers make more than enough money from their few legitimate businesses to never have to worry themselves financially. Not that this had been in question, technically, but to see the numbers in black and white is still galling, even if he's not nearly as incensed about it as Miss Rivas seems to be. And while Javier is far from a religious man, he does consider greed that is levered with blood to be at least distateful. 

Four. It's not her perfume he smelled earlier, but her shampoo, bright and fruity, with high notes of citrus. 

Five. As long as this is all they have and all she can get, the DEA cannot make a move against the Calí cartel. His orders had been very clear on that. Nail them down beyond escape and make absolutely sure you get them into custody, in that order. It means that whatever Miss Rivas can reveal about the inner financial working of the cartel is valuable, but on its own won't be enough. As always in this job it's sorting through a haystack with a rake in search of needlepoints. 

Which brings him to the next thing he needs to ask her. Needs to ask her to do for him, and the operation, to be specific, and he can already tell she'll say yes eagerly. Eager informants should be a blessing, but their eagerness seems to directly correlate with their likelihood of getting killed, or close enough. 

"This is for you." He says instead, handing her the satellite phone. There's directions that go with it, but he takes the time to walk her through it nonetheless. Also his numbers, both office and home, just in case. He watched as she carefully tucked everything into her purse.

It's later in the afternoon now - past three - and Salome comes toddling over, handing Javier her ball and sitting down on the grassy ground with a world-weary sigh. 

"Okay, time for your nap I think, young lady." Miss Rivas plucked the child from the ground and stood to deposit her back in the buggy, then holding out her hand to him expectantly. He hands the ball over after a split-second of dumbstruck hesitation. 

"Well, goodbye then, Agent Peña." 

He stood. Offered her his hand to shake, which she took. "I'll call you during the week. What time is good for you?" 

"Any time between seven and ten. I'll probably be in Medellín again in a month. I'll let you know if I have more intel by then." He nodded, finally releasing her hand after realizing he still had her fingers clasped in his. She smiled and turned to leave, wheeling the buggy around from its resting position and onto the footpath. "Oh, and Agent Peña?" She turned halfway, throwing the words over her shoulder with a smirk. "Gabriela won't be available tonight, just so you know. We're meeting for dinner and general catching up."

His neck flushed hotly, both despite and because he'd had no intention of visiting her. 

"Thanks," he said stiffly, "Give her my best."

"Will do!"

Shaking his head, Javier watched her retreat until she disappeared from view behind a bend in the path.

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

Further author’s note bc apparently I have more to say:

I’m gonna play a bit fast and loose with the timeline, because the show makes it look like Javi was sent back pretty much immediately and it only took those ~6 months to take down the cartel bosses, but in reality Escobar died in December of 1993 and the Calí godfathers weren’t arrested until summer of ‘95, so I’m sending Javi back to Colombia in the first half of ‘94 (April to be specific), meaning the time frame for this story is about a year

also I thought Maritza’s daughter in the series was still a baby, but upon rewatch it is actually stated in s2 ep4 that she’s two, and now I had to rewrite those parts. As to why she doesn’t speak, that’s actually something that will come up later and has nothing to do with my bad memory of the series. though tbh I probably assumed that because Olivia was a baby for like three years. (also according to the timeline I determined Maritza’s daugher would actually be between three and four at this point, but I’m going to disregard that. I’ve already had to age her up once and for the purposes of this story I need her to be still this little)

Chapter 2

[standfortheangels]

I HEAR YOU! (for Cinder and chester ;W;)

Send me “I HEAR YOU!” for Your Muse (Ask Sender) to find My Muse in a secluded place, injured and alone.

(Prompt post here)

((Okay, so, I did this in two or three sessions, hopefully it doesn't seem too disjointed or sound weird anywhere, but if it does, that's why. >w>' I'm also definitely putting this under a read more because it is loooong))

The deep woods. This was the part of Chester's job that he usually minded the least- right from the start, when he was new to the village, these trips to gather supplies were like a welcome break for him. He didn't have to be social, or funny.. he could study the plants they needed without keeping his nose in the books that he could barely make out anyway. Maybe that's why Elzin made it 'the apprentice's job' back then. He was certainly fit enough to do it himself. After all... that was how they'd met. And though Chester had never outright admitted it.. odds were his reading trouble was no secret. Probably still wasn't in this village. People had a funny way of finding information they ought not have. Chester chuckled at the thought. His old teacher just, sending him out here conveniently to match up the illustrations with the real thing, learn where they grew, find out what else around here looked similar... All the while never saying a word about the deeper purpose to it. The same way his grandfather used to when he was a child. Though he suspected that was more to get him out of the way now and then.

The sound of semi-wet mulch under his feet was a sign he'd found his next target. He was never the best at navigating the woods, but he could memorise a route like no-one he knew. Well, sort of. It often felt confusing, and he'd get a little ahead of himself sometimes. But there were always little markers to pick up on. He'd take a mental note of them, and repeat the list to himself over and over as he went, and then, it wound up sticking in his mind. Somewhere inconvenient, like a sheet of paper tucked into a dusty book on the top shelf, but it was there all the same.

It was nowhere near as natural as the way Cinder and her people navigated the woods. Of course they did have the advantage of being raised there for generations, but it didn't take away how it would wash over him now and then; this marvel at how, in seemingly any territory, Cinder could pick out a path without having to stop and analyse it, never passing the same point twice. Humility and adoration aside, there was no denying it was a level of talent he could never catch up to.

Still, he had learned a lot from them. Maybe he should bring something back after this. Nothing to mess with the ecosystem though. ... Maybe tea. Dried plants were definitely safer.

He rested his hand on a damp log and carefully hopped over it, pressing on as the light grew dimmer through the canopy. Shouldn't be far now.. Just a few more paces to the east, and- yep, there! A small collection of tiny but beautiful yellow flowers, all joined by long entangled stems. Exactly what he needed. He took a dull little knife from his hip, apologising to the plant under his breath as he cut off what he needed.

Pulling at the small bag on his hip, he popped it open and quickly rifled through with a finger, just nudging the plants around and mumbling their names to himself. "Perfect. In you go... and next iiiis... Ah."

Skirt flower. These things were trickier. He sighed, and stood for a second, then off he went again. There was no point delaying it. He'd told the townsfolk he'd be back before evening fell, and if he was late, he was bound to get an earful from someone or other. Maybe Mrs B, so overly concerned about him missing the chance to eat that she'd practically force-feed him her latest concoction... whatever that would be this time. He practically shuddered at the thought. He would always try his best not to hurt her feelings, as all the village did. But he'd try even harder to avoid her food.

This next plant wouldn't be easy though. These things required a little climbing to get to. Thankfully not upwards, but, really the next worst thing. They grew along the walls of steep land. Valleys, cliffs, sometimes even stone walls if they were loose enough. Unfortunately, they also needed a lot more moisture than they could get in the open air of the village. This dank part of the forest though, where dropped leaves and mossy soil could hold water, this ought to be enough for something to grow. Though it would make it trickier still for him.

There was a place just a little further in that Chester called The Ledge. Not quite a cliff, not quite a hill, just a section of land that seemed.. fractured. As if the forest floor was made of separate pieces, and every so often, one piece would sink downward, making the area look like different chunks or steps or- well, ledges. The word was more fun to say than this place deserved, especially when he needed something from here. But, this was part of his job. 'Wizard' was a title to be earned, and never forgotten.

Every breath was practically a sigh as he tugged on the strap and the cords of his bag, looking down at where he had to go. The last thing he needed was to lose the plants he'd gathered already. Though really, he'd made this bag sturdy enough. He just... Needed to start. Just get in place, and the rest will be okay, right? Yes. Getting down and finding his footing was the hard part, he could do the rest~ If he didn't think about heights, or falling.

He probably looked like the least elegant man alive right now. Slowly crawling backwards towards the ledge on his knees, shifting his weight unsteadily onto his elbows and chest, legs just kinda.. dangling as he tried to find a foothold. One foot finally hit something that was definitely solid, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Thank all the world's goodness that no-one could see him like this.

With just a brief pause, he began shuffling back again, keeping that one foot stable, then wiggled his arms out from under his chest, elbows now pointing out, hands as flat to the earth as possible. This was the part he hated most. ... Actually, no. It was all terrible. Equally terrible. With some deliberate breaths, he began to bob a little. Up down up down up down, "One, two, three-" UP and backwards, every part of him screaming for just a second as he moved his weight down onto his feet. Great! Foothold was sturdy. Handhold, however..

He grasped desperately for the ground at the top. One hand succeeded. The other only found loose soil that slipped right off the edge, effortlessly, and though he strained, the weight of his body off-balanced him completely. The rocky foothold scraped his knee as he tried to catch himself, dirt up his nails as even the sturdier ground came away, the bottom ledge was somehow in the air above him before it walloped into his shoulder and back, his stomach did flips, and then-

SMACK

...

He opened his eyes. It felt like, cold stone, under his cheek. Pulling his face away from it, he heard a low groan, and brought an arm in to push himself upright, more or less. Behind his shoulder, there was a dull but unignorable pain. His eyes.. no, his head? Eyes? Maybe both, felt.. off. Like the world's worst and sharpest sinus headache. He heard another, shorter groan- given that he felt it in his throat, it must have come from him. But, he hadn't chosen to...

With one hand bearing his weight on the ground, he brought the other to his head. Only when the two made contact did the pain really hit him. He tensed, shrinking down into his shoulders, mouth open with barely audible sounds, breaths leaving in an erratic fashion at first. He was curled now, still sitting, as the pain continued to collect at the front of his head like fluid pooling in his skull.

... Pooling. Oh-... Oh no.

His eyes were open now, full of every fragment of fear as his mind finally clicked back into place. Blood. He'd.. He'd fallen, into this, pit. And now... He glanced down at the stone he'd woken on. It was solid, not small either, with a corner so sharp he gasped at the sight. There was only a tiny, tiny amount of blood on the stone where he'd landed, only inches away. His breathing spiralled almost instantly. If he'd hit that- if he'd landed just a hand's length to the left.. he wouldn't have woken up.

"I have-.. I have to get out of here" he whispered to himself in a panic, and rushed- in a haphazard mess of movement- to get up onto his feet, as fast as possible. His arms, and worse, his legs, seemed too hard to control. He wasn't even sure of his torso either. And did his head usually throb like this? Probably not.

His hands caught him as he lost balance and fell forward into the wall of the lowest ledge- managing to stay on his feet, but only just. What was the matter with him? Everything was spinning, he was so nauseous... "No, it's fine, it's fine," he spoke barely louder than a whisper. "We can do this. Just gotta get out of this hole and get back home. Or.. ditch. Outta the ditch. Get out of the..." A new wave of nausea literally knocked him back, and he had to rest his weight on just one hand while the other covered his mouth tightly. He shut his eyes, making little muffled noises as he fought his body's urge to vomit. His eyes opened again, frantically looking up the hill and to the trees, over to the side- no, it was even steeper over there. Though those tree roots might be worth another try, maybe he could get enough purchase on that big thick one if he stood on something- His thoughts were interrupted as he suddenly lost the war against his stomach, folded over and couldn't stop himself.. Maybe he got too distracted. Yeah, that was probably it.

Breathing harder and hating every second, he used his arm- from the elbow to the side of his fist- to hold himself away from the wall, and rested his forehead against it, looking down. Already he was back to fighting the next wave, and it didn't help that now there was a new smell on his breath. He closed his eyes again, so exhausted it was a challenge to even think about stepping away. Slowly, his lids opened again, to a world slightly blurrier than the one he'd seen just seconds ago. At least he couldn't see any flecks of red in his vision, though it wasn't easy to tell right now.

He turned, putting his back against the slope and dropping his arms. His eyes were barely open, then closed, then halfway open again... He was still breathing hard into the air that grew colder- it must be late evening by now. And he was still so tired... There were only two things this could be. One... One would leave him dead here before morning, probably. And there was nothing he could do. The other... Well, it'd be tricky, and unpleasant for sure. But he could still get out of here eventually. He had to get out. He had to fight every bit of this and get out of this ditch! He turned again with a push and put both hands on the slope of dirt and leaves- the leaves were a slippery nightmare when wet, but if he could dig his fingers into the soil... thankfully his desperation helped him on that front.

Ignoring the dizziness and nausea, he began to half crawl, half climb, upwards, but when one foot slipped, he couldn't react fast enough. Before he could even figure out what to do next, he was falling. It was quick, he'd barely made it anywhere, but his head- his head felt like it was still falling. Maybe it would fall through his body- maybe his body was falling through the floor! Mayb- He clenched his hand around some leaves. No, he was just on the ground. Again.

Alone.

He let out almost a whimper and- slowly- dropped his head. This wasn't going to work. He couldn't do it. Under his breath, he spoke a portion of the Goddess' prayer. If nothing else, if she let him survive this, she wouldn't have to put up with his presence in her own realm. Not that she would anyway. He'd probably be haunting these woods forever. Reminded him of those old stories... The not-fun ones.

Staggering back to his feet again, but always using something around him for balance, he looked around a little more. "Okay.. let's think about options, Chester, you can do this. Do what, who knows, but you can do it. Just, have to... Uh..." There was a tree here, a big one, growing right up close to the side of this miserable hole. But he couldn't climb trees at the best of times, and certainly not now. The wall again, with the tree branches and a big rock... Climbing on easy mode, right? Oh but it was so far away.... He almost fell forwards just thinking about walking over there now.

After catching himself for balance again, he realised something more worrying. He was shaking. And shaking hard. He looked at his arms, his legs, and fear flooded his thoughts. No. No, not now. His head was killing him. ...Maybe literally. "No, no, don't think about that" he muttered to himself. If he went into shock now, here, alone.. Okay. Change tactics. He may not be able to heal himself, but he was still a medic. Time to act like one.

With a strong determination, he got himself over to the tree, the world spinning again, but that's okay. It's okay, it'll be fine. He pulled his cloak a little tighter around himself with one hand, holding it there, and lowered himself as carefully as he could to sit back against the rough bark. The ground was still a little cold, but at least this section was mostly dry. The last rain must have come in from the other side, and this big tree blocked its path. Now resting his head back against it, he reached back and patted the bark with his free hand, murmuring his thanks. This was probably the most this tree had helped someone in its whole life. True it didn't really get much say in the matter, but still. If it sheltered him from further rain tonight, he'd be grateful.

Alright, medic time. His whole body seemed to appreciate stopping, but he couldn't relax too much, he mustn't let himself. His eyes were still objecting to being open but he made them stay, forced himself to keep them open. He couldn't risk just 'resting his eyes' right now, it was too dangerous, he mustn't fall asleep. Unless he died, in which case... there wasn't much else he could do. But he HAD to stay awake now. Stay awake long enough to let these symptoms ease off. He probably wasn't bleeding into his skull, but-

Actually, it might be better to check.

Carefully feeling around with his fingertips, both hands, he mumbled the different sections to himself. One hand still for reference, the other very gently walking over his scalp. "this should be where that joins... Little pressure... No movement, alright.. nothing there... Down to the back plate..." Once he'd moved back as far as he could go, he tested the very top of his spine, where it connected, just in case. It hurt a little, but no more than expected. He breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing he hadn't fractured anything didn't entirely rule out a bleed inside, but at least it ruled out one huge cause of one. And now... Now there wasn't much to do. In fact, only one thing not to do. Sleep.

The cold could actually be helpful there. There were only tiny specks of sky he could see way up there, through the leaves and the pine branches he still hadn't managed to collect, but it was enough to know that it was getting darker. Soon the nocturnal animals would be waking up. He wasn't too thrilled about meeting them. But maybe the uncertainty and fear would help too.

...

...

Uncertainty and fear were wearing off. It was definitely night now. He could hear the owl's call, though he doubted he'd be mistaken for a mouse, so there was no danger there. There weren't even any mice here with him. In fact, the only animals he'd seen were a worm and some kind of tiny flying bug too small to even care about. So all his worrying and imagining had kind of lost its edge when nothing happened. And he still wanted to be asleep.

He held his cloak tightly and pulled his knees up, shivering a little- thankfully, he was now sure it was only the cold autumn air causing that. And, he seemed to have better control now. But his head still felt like it was splitting and spinning and, almost floating too. His eyes drifted shut and he forced them open again in a second. "No. You stay awake, stay focused, come on! Uhhh, lightning trays, the biggest jar of- medical spiders, Peru with a whole treasure chest of knives, ahhh come onnn, think, something scary, something really really scary, something so scary I can't ever sleep again." He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could, his fists balled tightly, and tried to imagine something- anything that would overpower this exhaustion. And then, opened them. This was a whole different situation, different setting, everything. But maybe there was something... from there.. that he could use. As much as he hated it, the things they made him do must have helped him to stay awake, or keep his mind running at least. And that was good enough for now.

His hand went to the little bag on his hip, but he wouldn't open it, no, that would ruin the game. Instead, he had to remember. Remember every plant he managed to find and put in this bag. One at a time. Get that list growing, repeat it, add the next one, repeat it, add the next, and so on, until.. he very quickly reached the end. He'd put eight different plant cuttings in this bag. It felt like a lot at the time. It was more than planned, but he wanted to make that tea for Cinder to try. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day... Maybe never now.

"I should have gone for the sage. Skirt flower's a stupid idea.." He dropped his head back against the tree- gently, of course- and looked up again. Quietly at first... he began to sing. A song from his birthland about the dangers of traveling by sea. This... Wasn't the sea. But there had always been good advice in this song. Advice he probably should have listened to more. He sang those lines slowly, as if he was turning over each word in his mind, and grew just a little louder. Then, he stopped. And tensed. There was a sound. And there, again! A voice? It almost sounded like...

"Chester!"

"Cinder?" He was quiet, eyes wider than they'd been in hours, then tried again- maybe this wasn't real, but on the off-chance it was.. "Cinder?" He called out, louder now.

"Chester! I hear you! Where are you?"

"Uh- This way! I'm in a hole and I fell and-" he smiled, relieved, and took a breath. "I'm so glad you're here~ Can you- I-I'm just going to keep talking, just, follow my voice!"

"Stay there, I'm coming!"

Finally, his body relaxed, and not out of exhaustion this time.

"I couldn't go anywhere if I wanted to. Trust me, I tried." He smiled again. He wanted to just stand and move to the edge of the pit, but, it would probably be better not to go dizzy and fall again right now. But it was okay. Cinder was here. It was all going to be fine.

[seoulnotes]

Luce in altis   |   x. The Lies of the Guilty

S Y N O P S I S | Passed down from centuries worth of history, the remnants of a hatred between two kings reside in a small village that serves as a border between their two feuding kingdoms. y/n lives in that village and must seek aid from one of the kings. Her trust is tested when she learns of the king that is truly wicked.

C H A R A C T E R S | Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin, reader (y/n) ; (mentions of other members)

G E N R E | fantasy, romance, drama — royalty au ; PG-15

W A R N I N G S (chapter specific) | none

W O R D C O U N T | 3.4k

All parts here

⇠ prev. (ix)    |   next (xi) ⇢

I told myself it was just a coincidence, reminding myself as I took steps in circles in my room.

Just a coincidence. I don’t even know who the hell he is.

When I finally managed to relieve the unsettling thoughts of the familiar face, I was hit with a new dilemma—one that left my thoughts whirring with no end.

I paused my steps in pacing and dropped onto my bed, hand on my forehead.

He had kissed me.

Jimin kissed me and I kissed back.

It wasn’t supposed to go this way.

I came to Hemera to get help, to further move my plans to help my village. I feel like I took further steps back at this point, similar to when Taehyung kept me in Erebus with no intentions to help me.

Whatever emotions coursed through my veins melted away because then I felt myself fall into a trance of remembering his soft lips on mine, how safe I felt in his arms.

Was it right for me to take part in this? I trusted him, right?

Unconsciously, my hand reached up to graze my lips. He kissed me there.

I snatched my hand away at the thoughts creeping into my mind and threw myself back into the bed.

I let my worst quality consume me: pushing things off until I needed to confront them.

I’ll face him in the morning.

His eyes were hesitant when they met my gaze at breakfast. I knew his mouth was ready to form words, questions about last night, but he was biting them back.

He wanted to talk about it, but he had no way of starting this. I felt his eyes glancing from his food before him, to me, then back to his food many times.

He was ready to discuss last night because the only ones present at breakfast were him and I. I was sure it was his request.

The dreaded clanking of utensils against plates and bowls continued for what felt like an entire century. I couldn’t stand it anymore, the clanking grew louder by the minute.

I placed my fork down onto my plate, even the clang of that broke silence.

“About last night,” I began.

Jimin’s eyes rose quickly to meet mine, widened slightly.

“I shouldn’t have. You’re betrothed to my brother,” his mouth then shut into a hard line. He had made his decision, chose his words carefully.

Oh right.

Suddenly, I felt rejected. It wasn’t him saying he didn’t share the same potential feelings, yet it felt like a rejection.

I knew better, yet I allowed my own feelings to speak. I pried; I wanted to know if he didn’t intend the kiss like he didn’t want it. “Are you saying it was a mistake?”

He shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “You’re really putting me against disadvantageous odds, y/n.”

The answer confirmed enough and left me feeling hopeful and content that my own potential feelings were reciprocated.

I didn’t ask further. That was as brave as I could get. I definitely didn’t have the courage to confess my own feelings.

I was sure I had feelings for Taehyung and look where it had ended. Caution was practically screaming at me this time.

“y/n, I like you… if it wasn’t already clear,” he said, face reddened slightly and a hand went to the back of his neck. “But I understand, you are betrothed to my brother and I can’t do this to you. I can’t make you into an unfaithful queen and wife. We can just forget that this happened if that is what you want.”

He would not overstep that boundary to feed into his own avarice. It was an invisible barrier, but he knew it was not right to step across it. Yet another quality to admire of Park Jimin, the determination to uphold what was right.

Silence filled the room, yet thoughts were flying in my head.

“Probably for the best,” he mumbled, head dropping slightly and he returned to take a sip of his coffee.

I trust Jimin right?

No, I couldn’t trust him yet. It’s only been a week. My mind went back to Taehyung whom I trusted after a week, the trust no longer there. Then Taehyung’s warning crossed my mind once again, gone as fast as it came.

I’ve known him longer than a week though, in Erebus.

I’m still betrothed to Taehyung in the eyes of the public. Don’t. He’ll see me as an unfaithful person. How will he feel then?

Do I really have feelings? I wasn’t good at finding out about those.

I shook your head as if getting rid of the pestering thoughts. “I want to think about this. Please give me some time to think about it. It’s just—I need some time.”

Jimin nodded, grasping where my answer was coming from. A glimmer of something like hope evident in his eyes as he offered me a smile.

I was doomed; I was never going to be able to reject this man, was I?

The following days became quiet days at the palace. After the conversation, it was a mutual agreement to leave space between us. I was either at the library or in my own bedroom. Jimin was probably handling matters of his kingdom; I didn’t pry into his schedule.

Silence gives one a lot of time to be thinking and did the battle of thoughts ensue.

If I touched the book Jimin bought at the bookstore, I thought of him. I couldn’t read a chapter without my mind wandering away from the story to the owner of the book.

My feelings practically consumed my every minute.

When I ate dinner, I thought of him. Was he eating alone like me? I would question.

I was in his goddamn palace, the thought of him never escaped me.

Perhaps I was in deeper than I had thought.

One conclusion I came to was final: if I was to confess, I would have to be willing to tell him of my family and what had happened. I would confess not only my feelings but the entire truth and he might hate me at first for using him as an escape from Taehyung.

So I weighed my final decision on that.

I was in the one place I knew that I could hide in and be comfortable: the palace library, in search of a different book. That ‘Alice Through the Looking Glass’ was unreadable with the ties it had with Jimin.

I walked along the shelves, fingertips grazing different spines of books.

My heart paused as my eyes just barely glanced at a certain book.

On the spine of the book was a bleeding moon imprinted with gold foil.

A crescent moon with two drops of blood falling.

“I was looking for you,” Jimin’s voice pulled me from the horror I felt rushing through me as I tore my eyes from the shelf. “It’s been a few days since we really spoke.”

I didn’t know why, but I quickly shifted my hand to an adjacent book and gripped it. “You know I’m a newfound bookworm that’s most likely to be sticking their nose into a book.” I hoped my nervousness didn’t bleed into my word as I offered a smile.

Jimin chuckled. He tried to act as casual as possible. This was the first time we were speaking since his own confession.

Thankfully, he didn’t notice how my heart was shaking within my chest and how shocked I was to even notice too much.

“Finished the book from the store already?” He mused, a smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, looking for a new one.” I attempted to return an entertained smile, hand patting on the shelf of books. “Any recommendations?”

“I’m not much of a reader,” he replied. “So, can’t say that I can give you any recommendations.”

“That sounds awfully terrible for someone who owns a whole library in their palace.”

“It came with,” he joked before glancing around at the span of the library, glass windows that peeked above the shelves letting in sunlight. “No, it was just a procedure to have one built.” He shook his head, a smile on his lips.

“They wouldn’t let me get away with building this palace without a library in the blueprint.”

Silence presented itself at the moment. I stared at the king five feet away from me.

I realized I was in deep when the unsettling thoughts of the book dissipated as I watched the small smile on his lips. I liked that smile and the way it made his eyes crinkle, magnifying the emotions.

Don’t y/n. Stop.

The smile slipped as the silence continued to pass.

I knew the look on his face whenever we saw each other. He would have that glimmer in his eyes but his teeth drew on his bottom lip to stop him. He wanted to ask if I had an answer.

I didn’t know why I was reluctant to speak. I had almost wholeheartedly decided that the quick pacing of my heart in Jimin's presence was not just nothing.

“Dine with me tonight?” Hope clouded his eyes and they studied mine, waiting for an answer.

I nodded, accepting the invitation.

It wasn’t so bad, I preferred to not dine alone anyway.

Dinners with Jimin were never anything extravagant. Jimin himself only wore a simple shirt and trousers.

It felt normal again except for the ongoing silence that never seemed to want to end. The silence barred conversation from taking place and I cursed that it was my own imagination forcing me to think that this was all due to a kiss.

I searched my mind for anything to talk about. Anything.

“You’re going to have other guests from the continent?” I asked suddenly, remembering the man who stole Jimin away the other night.

“Yeah.” Not missing a beat.

“Are they already here or they’re coming?” I wanted to slap myself for falling into my default defense against silence which was asking as many questions as possible to keep conversations going.

“A letter arrived a few days ago about their coming.” He responded although a strange look made its way to his face, brow crinkling as if to ask why I was even asking this so randomly.

“Oh, are they important people?” y/n, what kind of question is that?

“Some diplomats who want to visit the kingdom,” he gave me a funny face.

I nodded, moving the fork on my plate and pushing a piece of zucchini around.

The conversation died again.

“How long do you plan to stay?”

I looked up from my plate. “Huh?” The question had caught me off guard. I realized I just came here without telling Jimin anything and I still had not told him anything.

“I don’t mind you staying a while,” he chuckled at the lost look I wore. “I was just wondering if you would be needed back in your kingdom and the engagement,” he trailed off towards the end.

“To be honest, I’m not sure,” my cheeks reddened as I gave an embarrassed smile. “I didn’t do much in my position anyway.”

“Don’t worry about it then.”

The meal ended on a neutral note, not high like before, not low as if something was terribly wrong.

As my mind drifted, I realized, something was wrong. The book at the palace library.

I would need to go back tomorrow.

I felt something astray down to my bones and a chill ran through my spine at the thought of the clear image of the bleeding moon from my dreams many weeks ago.

With the situation not nearly cleared, I was not worried Jimin would take part in my day as I walked the many corridors to reach the large double doors with the library behind it.

I prayed that the book was still there as I walked along the shelves, eyes scanning every spine that came to sight.

The gold-stamped bleeding moon.

I didn’t know why I felt obligated to find out on my own rather than asking Jimin, but something told me it was not wise to do so.

I reached a hand to grab the book from the shelf. After tipping back, it didn’t move from the shelf.

I frowned, brows furrowing. Why was this book stuck?

That was until I had realized a creaking sound resounded beside me as the shelf beside the one facing me slid back. The shelf moved back slightly before disappearing behind the adjacent shelves.

I froze.

What was hiding behind this shelf? I slowly slid over to the opening, allowing my sight to adjust to the low light of globes of light that hung along the right side of the dark stone hallway.

At the end of the hallway, a curve took place as lights hung lower on the wall indicating a downward staircase.

I knew it was dangerous, but I stepped inside of the hallway. It was even more foolish that I closed the entrance behind me after entering. I gripped the edge of the wooden shelf and pulled.

It surprisingly budged easily, sliding to shut and I watched as the last bit of light from the library disappeared from my sight and I was left with just the dimly lit globes of light to keep me from succumbing completely to the darkness.

If I went further, I wouldn’t want whoever was hiding this secret to find me.

I pulled onto the fabric of the skirt of my dress as I descended down the stairs, hand grazing along one of the walls cautiously.

The sound of my heart beating rapidly within my chest signaling danger, danger, danger! I felt my breathing become shallow as I descended lower and my hands gripped tighter.

I willed my ears to clear of the thrumming of my heart and focus on any noises, voices, anything. There was only the sound of water dripping from an unkept source.

Drip, drip, drip.

I found flat grounds at the end of the stone stairs.

Where the hell was this? Furthermore, what the hell was this?

The lights along the walls did a terrible job as I strained my vision to follow the short hallway. On one side, I began to approach a more well-lit space beyond an arch.

I leaned against the edge of the arch, inching my head around slightly ensuring no one was in the room.

Where the hell am I?

My heart plunged when my line of sight was met with cells, many cells, cells that lined both sides in the opening beyond the arch.

I felt sick. The cells resembled too similar to the ones from my dreams for comfort. The way they were lined next to each other were nearly interchangeable with ones from my dreams.

Without guards in sight, I stepped forward into the open area, a more well-lit area.

I didn’t know whether I wanted to find out who was behind the metal bars. The thought of confirming my own nightmares. I shuddered at that thought, a chill running down my spine.

I chose the right side, the one my mother would have been in.

Before I could register faces to the people in the dimmed cell, “y/n?”

I felt my insides turn as a woman walked to the bars, hands wrapping around the metal as her head appeared from the dimness.

Her hair was tangled, a mess compared to what I had last seen of her hair pulled into plaid. Her eyes shined and I noticed how dark circles took away the usual tone under her eyes. She had aged a decade in the span of a few months.

But she still was and always would be—

“Mother?” I almost couldn’t use my voice. It broke off at the end as shock coursed through me before tears sprung into my eyes and my vision blurred the face of my mother.

I rushed to the bars, a sudden wish that I could become strong enough to rip the metal apart and pull her into an embrace. “y/n, how did you get here? They took us and we couldn’t see you in the crowd. Thank god you’re alright,” she whispered, evidence of tears trailing down her cheeks as she reached a hand out to sweep her thumb over my cheek as if to test if I was really here.

I nodded confirming her thoughts. I’m here.

I melted into her touch, seeking comfort as my hand reached out to wrap around hers. For a quick second, I was a young child who had been without her family, lost. “Mama,” something I had not used since youth. It came out in the most vulnerable way with tears trailing from my eyes and my hand holding tightly to hers.

I wanted to spend hours, even holding her hand, but I realized if she was here, Namjoon and my father had to be in the cells across. “Namjoon, Father,” I whispered. She nodded confirming my thoughts.

I turned, seeing Namjoon and my father at the cell, eyes wide. The rest of my village seemingly confused as to why I was not with them, how I managed to escape.

This was the reunion I had wanted but it was in the worst situation possible.

Before I could walk across to them, there were low voices speaking to one another.

My eyes drew open and I turned to my mother. Her eyes widened before she whispered, “go hide! Don’t let them find you.”

I willed my panic and thoughts of my family to settle as I scanned the room quickly, trying to find something to hide behind.

On the other side, another arch was there. If it mirrored the side I had entered in, I could hide behind the walls.

I would either find out or get caught and I made the quick decision to hide behind there. I would find out soon enough if it was a good hiding place.

“I don’t understand why His Majesty is just keeping them here. There’s no benefit from that; just wasting food and time.” The voice belonged to a male. Their gears shifted leaving the sound of clanking metal as they walked.

His Majesty? Jimin? This was Jimin’s doing? I realized I never crossed that thought once, not even when I found this place.

I pressed my back against the wall, holding my breath as much as I could and trying to steady my pounding heart. The dungeon was created from stone, even a water drop would echo nevertheless a human’s breath.

The footsteps grew stronger.

This is it; they’re going to find me here. They will take me to Jimin and God knew what would happen then. I emptied my mind of those thoughts, sparring myself the full hit of emotions I would feel soon enough as my fight or flight instincts kicked in.

I clenched my eyes shut before opening them to search my surroundings. There had to be somewhere better to hide, better yet, somewhere to escape from here.

My eyes landed on a door at the end of the adjacent short hallway. Was that another exit? But I wouldn’t be able to make it, I’d have to cross the main area and they’d surely see me.

Then a realization dawned on me.

I could sail. I released a breath.

“Did you hear that?” Footsteps continued and I clenched my eyes shut.

Please, let me be in my bedroom. Please.

Within the darkness of closing my eyes, I searched my head for images of my bedroom. If I could sail a few floors above, please. I pictured my bedroom, the king-sized bed sitting in the center, and the window that overlooked out of the back of the palace.

When I opened my eyes with my breath held, I was in the center of my room and a wave of relief washed over me and I dropped my knees to the floor, thanking whatever gods had helped me.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. 

I pressed my head into my arms realizing I was shaking throughout.

Then came the nausea. I ran to the washroom, falling to my knees and allowing myself to heave into the waste bin.

This was the worst part.

A gentle hand brushed my back and pulled back my hair from my face. I froze.

My heart stilled before I could regain myself and lift my head from the opening of the bin to meet a familiar pair of brown eyes.

“Taehyung?”

a/n

quite a short chapter compared to my other ones :( but I put all the parts I wanted to happen in this chapter. I’m not really sure what I want to do about the updating schedule yet (aka still kind of adjusting to my new work schedule) but once again, if you’re interested, you can just send me a private ask or message for the tag list!

yours truly, Selene ♡

Taglist:

@huskymae (couldn’t get your tag sorry)

[khadij-al-kubra]

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 6)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Words: 5518

Author’s Note: *Shuffles in, hijab haphazardly wrapped, wearing a fleece hoodie over rumpled pajamas, carrying a mug that reads “I write, what’s your superpower” and wearing one slipper.* Hey folks. So um. Yeah. I know it’s been, well, a LONG while. Apologies. I have no excuse other than this last semester of grad school and my part time gig kicked my ass, stole most of my free time, and possibly my left shoe. But I haven’t forgotten this fic or all of you incredibly wonderful and patient readers. And trust me when I say that I have made the wait worth it. Plus I’m on break now and already plotting out the next chapter, and I know exactly how I plan to progress with it, right down to the number of chapters left. Can I get a wahoo? *Yawns and takes a long drink of strongly brewed black tea* Once again, thank you SO much for your patience and love, and enjoy the lovelorn chaos from our favorite gays. ^_^ (also, if for some reason the tag link isn’t working for you, please let me know)

AO3

<=PREV

Chapter 6 - (POV Patton)

The fire in your eyes

Like a grave digger’s lantern

Your passion revives…me

“Gosh dang it, one syllable too many,” Patton muttered to himself over the notepad.

He felt a staccato of taps on his arm; a signal for when the world was silenced by Patton’s big headphones and Roman wanted to talk to him. He took them off, giving his soulmate his full attention. That was still so nice to say and put an actual face to. My soulmate.

“Problem, dear heart?” Roman asked from the seat next to him. The new term of endearment made Patton blush, but he loved it.

“Nah, just tweaking a new haiku,” he said. “I want it to be perfect for my muse.”

Now Roman was the one blushing. “Well I’m sure when it’s done it will be as wonderful as everything else that’s made by your hands.”

It had been barely two days since he and Roman discovered they were each other’s soulmates (or at least one of them), but since then they had spent every spare moment getting to know each other. From walking to classes together to spending free periods together, and Patton’s mother had even insisted on inviting Roman over for dinner just last night. When Roman had complimented the pasta Patton helped cook, saying he could taste the love poured into each noodle, his heart felt near to bursting. It was such a short amount of time getting to know each other, yet Patton felt as though he’d known Roman for eons all throughout past lives.

Who knew being with your soulmate could make you feel so alight inside?  

“Thank you for sneaking me your Tupperware of leftovers, Patton,” said Roman, covertly twirling his plastic fork into the spaghetti under their table.

“No problem, kiddo,” said Patton.

Technically they weren’t allowed food in the library during study hall except for water. Unless you had a blood sugar problem or something. Still, Patton was willing to break a tiny rule if it was for his soulmate’s well being. And maybe myself, he thought, sneaking bites from the napkin cookies on his lap.What? He’d had an Algebra test that morning. He earned a treat or two.

“Mom’s right, I do need to pack fuller lunches. I don’t know what’s up with my appetite lately. Least I’ve still got my figure.

“Maybe it s a puberty thiiiiiohmygosh it’s him.”

“Him who?”

“Look, but don’t look, over your shoulder.”

Roman sneakily looked over his shoulder and saw what Patton meant. It was Logan Berry, in all his brilliant glory, pulling out a book from the chemistry section. He looked lovely as always in a cream colored blouse, mint green skirt, and cherry blossom patterned neckerchief. The yellow gems of his bumblebee hair clip glittered under the ceiling light as it kept the ebony bangs out of his eyes.

Yet there was something off about Logan today. His face was neutral as always, but Patton noticed there was something slightly somber in his posture.

“Isn’t that supposed to be the school genius or something?” Roman asked.

“Debate club president,” Patton said wistfully.

“I’ve heard about his through tech club. He is really pretty! In a nerdy way.”

“Yeah, he sure is a lovely creature of nature.” Patton said with a sigh.

They must have been whispering louder than he realized, because suddenly Logan’s head was turned, and he was looking curiously at Patton. Oohhh gosh golly. He half hid behind his copy of Wuthering Heights.

“Patton my dear, you sound positively smitten.” Roman said, turning back around. “Not that I blame you really.”

Patton chuckled, unable to stop staring at his crush. “Guilty. Have been for awhile.”

“Say, you don’t suppose Logan could be one of our mysterious shared soulmates, maybe the one from yesterday, do you?”

“Maybe, but I don’t think we have the same lunch time as—Ohhh Lemony Snickett, he’s coming this way!”

“What? Here? Now? Does my hair look good?”

Patton considered himself to be pretty good at reading people on an emotional level, but Logan was usually like a tightly bound journal, difficult to look into. Except this time it was clear he did not look too happy with them. Before he could gage deeper as to why, Logan was at their table. Patton had never been this close to Logan before, never had the chance to make real mutual eye contact.

Logan’s stoic gaze went back and forth between them. His brave little Prince was mumbling Disney lyrics under his breath and clearly trying so hard not to clam up. Guess it’s up to me. Patton grasped for some sort of ice-breaker good enough for Logan. Something friendly, intelligent and totally not off-putting like he normally was.

“Umm…cookie?” Patton asked, holding up his cookie napkin in peacemaker offering.

“I don’t appreciate being stared at and spoken about behind my back.” Logan said sharply, staring pointedly at him.

“So that’s a no on the cookie.” Patton said, shrinking back.

“If you have something to say, you can express your mockeries to my face, because frankly I am in no mood for ignoring judgmental comments today.”

Ouch! Logan had never come across as the friendliest person ever, but Patton was definitely not expecting him to speak so coldly upon their fist meeting. And it hurt. Or it would have more so if Patton couldn’t tell from the look in Logan’s eyes that he was actually upset about something more than just people whispering.

“H-hey, don’t talk to my soulmate like that!” Roman said, voice cracking. He was loud enough to be shushed from another table. Yet for once, Roman didn’t duck his head down in shyness. “I-in fact, you shouldn’t talk to anymore like that, or make such harsh assumptions yourself, Mister Sub-Astute-Teacher.”

Logan turned to Roman. “I beg your pardon?”

“We weren’t gossiping about you, or whatever it is you think we were doing. If anything we were complimenting you. I mean- well yeah-yes! We were. But that was before you came at us so rudely with your negative assumptions. Just because you’re the debate club president or whatever doesn’t give you the right to talk to people like that.”

Wow. Patton had never had someone stand up for him like that before. And he’d never seen Roman be so, well, unabashedly vocal, even when people were watching. I am so proud!

Logan looked taken aback, ashamed even. “I-I apologize.”

“Yeah, you should, Blaise Pastel. And another...thing?” Roman cut himself off suddenly.

Patton was about to ask Roman what was wrong when he felt the tell tale tingle on his arm. He pulled up his sleeve and sure enough, another new soulthought was there, tattooed in navy blue ink: ‘Hm. Brontë. Excellent taste.’

“Patton,” Romans said, tapping him excitedly. “Look!”

On Roman’s arm in the same navy blue read: ‘Interesting sweater choice.’ They beamed at each other. There was no doubt about it.

Then Logan coughed, and when they turned to look at him, he too was holding out his arm on display. Beneath two purple and sky blue soulmarks, the latter of which Patton recognized as his own, were letters in bright red: ‘Nerd—Pretty—Pretty nerd.’

“Well. It would appear that we have much to discuss. May I?” Logan asked, gesturing to an empty chair at their table.

Patton checked wordlessly with Roman if he was okay with it. The drama techie nodded. “Please.”

Logan pulled out the chair across from them and smoothed out his skirt as he sat. “So. It seems that we are all ineffably bonded to one another, judging from the matching color palettes in our soul thoughts. And you both are...”

“We’re together,” said Roman, reaching for Patton’s hand on the table and lacing their fingers. “We found each other just two days ago.”

Something flashes across Logan’s face, but it was gone before Patton could read more into it. “That is...quite fortuitous.”

“And we’d love for you to be apart of this too.” Patton said. “That is, if you’d be comfortable with that. We wouldn’t dare bind your heart to ours, regardless of being soulmates, if it wasn’t something you also wanted.”

“Or if you ended up being a jerk.”

“Roman!”

“Well he—

“It’s quite alright, um, Patton was it?” Logan asked. Patton nodded yes. “Roman is within his right to feel how he does. I did not exactly make the best first impression.”

“You can say that again.” Roman muttered.

“Now Roman, you and I didn’t exactly get off on the right foot either. In fact it left a lot to be desired.” Pattona said.

“But he—

“Deserves just as much a chance as we did. He is our soulmate after all. Alright?”

“Yes, dear.”

A low chuckle from Logan caught them both off guard. The beautiful brainy boy was covering his mouth demurely. The sight of Logan, who’d always been so sharp and alabaster cold, so softened by just his laughter alone was breathtaking. It set moths fluttering about in Patton’s tummy.

“What’s so funny?” Roman asked, brows furrowed.

Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his Warby Parkers. Hey, we have the same glasses!

“Apologizes, I am not laughing at you,” Logan said. “It is merely that, well, for a moment there your bickering reminded me of my mothers. Which is quite remarkable given how, as you’ve said, you two have only known each other for two days.”

“Aw gee, it’s sweet of you to say that we remind you of your moms, Logan.” Patton said.

To think he and Roman already sounded like an old married couple. Sure it was all fast and new to him still, but he couldn’t help delighting at it. Would he get to share this same sort of bond with Logan? With his fourth unknown soulmate? He sure hoped so.

Still, he was so different from Roman. Even though Patton had been crushing on Logan fort ages, he seemed to have a much thicker wall. Could Patton ever be good enough to be invited in?

“So I take it from your reaction that you are not among the school’s percentage of ignoramuses that take offense to LGBT folk, such as myself and my mothers?” Logan asked.

“Pshh, puh-lease! I’m about as straight as this spaghetti,” said Roman, holding up a limp noodle hanging off his fork.

“You do know food is prohibited in the library.”

“And my brother Remus is a regular Ace of spades.” Roman continued, ignoring Logan. “Not that you’d ever guess it, with all the crude jokes he makes on his podcast.”

“Brother?” Patton and Logan asked.

“Trust me, the less you know about that internet troll the better.”

“As for me, said Patton, “well, just fry an egg on my head and call me pan.”

Roman nearly choked on his bite of food, cough laughing. Patton offered his bottle of water to him. Logan tilted his head to the side.

“Fry an—what? That isn’t—pan?” If there was a lightbulb over Logan’s head, it would have just clicked. “Oh good lord, was a that a pun comparing pansexuality to cookware?”

“Heh, guilty,” said Patton. “I’ve got ‘em by the dozens.”

Roman seemed to like Patton’s jokes, but Logan not so much. Patton had been trying real hard to make his jokes less dry and dark. Did Logan just not like puns, or did he not like him? Patton so wanted Logan to like him.

“Tawdry wordplay aside, I’m please to find that at least some of my soulmates are not ashamed to be themselves, unlike...”

Patton turns to Logan concerned, but he merely opened his book to a random page and pretended to read it. He was clearly holding something back, but Patton didn’t want to push him into talking. He already felt like on thin ice.

“Unlike who?” Roman asked. “Does it have to do with your soulmate?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” said Logan, not looking up.

Roman rolled his eyes. “The one with the purple writing. Don’t think I didn’t notice that. Patton and I both have thought tattoos in the same color, and if you know who are third soulmate is, then don’t you think we have a right to know who they are as well?”

Logan closed the book. He looked at them for a moment, then sighed. “That is more than fair. Alright. It’s...”

He leaned in close to them, and in a low voice whispered a name that Patton was surprised to hear.

“VIRGIL!?” Roman shouted. Logan palmed his forehead.

A neighboring table shushed them and at least two students milling about the stacks gave them odd looks. Patton tugged his hat down and Roman slunk down bashfully. Baby steps, Roman. Baby steps. They probably would’ve gotten more than odd looks if not for Logan giving the more nosy students a steely glare.

“Would you kindly think before you open your infinitesimally loud mouth next time?” Logan asked.

He knows that word actually means really small, right? Patton thought.

“Well excuse me for being shocked that the Stormcloud of South Bay High is our mysterious soulmate.” Roman said, using his backstage voice. “I mean, look at us and look at him.”

“I have,” Logan said.

“And you’re still in one piece? After being alone with an unnerving ruffian like him?”

“FALSEHOOD!”

The sudden outburst startled Patton nearly out of his skin, and Roman actually fell out of his seat, spaghetti almost flying. The school librarian shushed Logan pointedly, and he apologized to her profusely, being luck enough to to get off with just a warning as her model library goer.

“He is not like that.”  Logan said. “Yes, he is among the athletic clique but he is by no means a brute. He is intelligent and sweet and...gentle.”

“It’s true Roman,” said Patton. “I haven’t talked to him much myself, but I sit behind him in English Lit., and he’s never been mean to anyone in class.”

Patton pictured the anxious kiddo in his mind. How fidgety he got, the way his back tensed when being called on even if he knew the answer, and especially the lost lonely look in his eyes.

“Actually, when he’s not huddled in with his buddies, Virgil’s even more awkward than you can be.”

“Augh!” Roman gasped offendedly. “Patton, you wound my pride. Wait, was that a compliment or?”

“Does that mean you’ve talked with Virgil then?” Patton asked Logan.

“Indeed. We officially met—coincidentally—on Wednesday, realized we are soulmates, and spent Study Hall yesterday getting to know one another. It was quite...enjoyable.”

Then something happened that Patton would’ve gone so far as to call a little miracle: he saw Logan smiling. It was small but softened his angular face oh so nicely. Seeing Logan’s smile was like watching a sunrise. If Patton hadn’t been in puppy love with Logan before he definitely was now.

Then the overcast came, and stone faced Logan was back. “That is until some of his neanderthal brethren in lettermen’s happened upon us, and Virgil revealed the coward he truly is; ashamed of himself and ashamed of me.”

The three of them went quiet, their snacks and studies long forgotten. The library clock ticked away, turning pages crinkled like autumn leaves, and somewhere somebody was not so sneakily smoking a joint. Of course his brave little Prince would be the first to break the silence.

“Sooo I take it that Virgil is deeper in the closet than Narnia,” said Roman.

“Precisely. And I refuse to belittle my self-worth by wasting my time on anyone who does not have the courage to be themselves, let alone be associated with me simply because I am not of the same socially constructed  high school status. I told him as much before leaving with my dignity intact.”

Patton tried to process this new information. It hurt his heart to hear the bitterness in Logan’s words, especially when he was so obviously trying to hide how hurt he really was. Yet even so...

“I understand where you’re coming from Logan, and I’m sorry that happened to you. But,” Patton bit his bottom lip, “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on Virgil?”

Logan raise a sharp eyebrow at him. “In what way am I being harsh?”

“Because, well, it’s not really your place to say when or how ‘out’ somebody should be. Even if he is your—our—soulmate.” Patton sat up straighter, blowing the curly bangs out of his eyes. “I mean, you probably came to this school already out of the closet, right? You’re used to to knowing how to handle yourself and others when they might talk bad about you. So it’s probably easier to feel like you’ve got the Pride high ground.”

“I...suppose I hadn’t considered it in that light.” said Logan. “Astute.”

“Yeah, top notch analysis there, Patton-cake,” said Roman.

“And yeah, we’ve got a modest little LGBT club and a small portion of the school has not so nice views of queer people,” Patton continued. “Which makes sense, I mean, this isn’t exactly New York. But you’ve gotta understand that Virgil is smack dab in the middle of that crowd. He probably feels like it might not be as safe for him to be out as it would be for someone like you; the debate club champ and smartest kid in school who’s also in good standing with the teachers. ...Or someone like me; the creepy emo kid that everyone treats like a ghost or is too scared of to bother with anyways.”

Lonely as it was, being invisible did have its advantages. Patton felt Roman wrap a deceptively strong arm around him, nothing but tenderness in his eyes. Well, not so invisible anymore. Patton smiled and leaned his head on Roman’s broad shoulder.

“Honestly, I see Patton’s point. Sure, I get teased by those guys all the time for being perceived as gay—not that they’re wrong—but people have picked on me for plenty of other reasons over the years.”

Roman paused for moment, using one hand to wipe his large glasses on his swirly patterned sweater vest.

“Look at me. I’m a scrawny, shy, Disney obsessed theater nerd, and not even one of the leading actor elites. I knew going in that I was bound for the bottom of the social food chain no matter what I did, so I figured, why not at least allow myself to be my full rainbow self, albeit quietly? Sure, I haven’t officially come out yet, but it’s not like I’d have much more to lose when I do. But Virgil? He has everything to lose.”

Logan sat back in his chair, mulling over their imput. Pattons was worried that he might have offended Logan somehow. He wasn’t storming away from their table, so that was a good sign. Maybe Patton should apologize anyways.

BRIIIING

Study hall was officially at an end. Students packed up their bags, and returned or checked out books. Meanwhile the librarian ushered any stragglers out so she could prepare the space for any Friday electives that would be taking place there.

“I have to get to class,” said Logan, gathering his things. “It was good meeting you both. You’ve given me much to think about. Perhaps we might converse again sometime?”

“No problem Specs. Where are you off to next?” Roman asked, closing up the Tupperware and hanging it back to Patton.

“Um, U.S. History,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses.

“With Mr. Terrence? Me too.” Roman grabbed his classic Mickey backpack. “Maybe we can, um, walk over there together? I mean, since we’re headed the same direction.”

“I have no objections with that.”

“Onward then. Farewell, Patton dear.”

“Bye Roman. Uh, Logan, I—“

Before Patton could say anything more, his two soulmates were on their way out. With a sigh he grabbed his writing journal, book, and backpack before heading out himself in the opposite direction for his last two classes of the day. He had English Lit with Miss Valerie next. And Virgil, he thought, pulling his headphones over his ears. It was high time he and Virgil spoke for real.

* * * * *

Patton watched the clock on the wall tick tock away the last few minutes of class He gripped his stretched sleeve end into a black and grey paw with one hand, and doodled furiously in his notebook margins with the other. Did I overstep my boundaries? Patton wondered for the hundredth time since the middle of class. In front of him, Virgil nervously bounced his knee and kept chewing on his cuticles, sending a twinge of guilt through Patton’s chest.

Halfway through class while Miss Valerie was writing out notes on the board, he had carefully tossed a folded note onto Virgil’s desk. Luckily he’d always been more of a thrower than a catcher. The anxious athlete saw the slip of paper, unfolded its contents, and went rigid. He’d cast a quick wide eyed glance over his shoulder at Patton before turning back to the front. Virgil hadn’t looked at him again since.

BRIIIING

“Alright class, that’s it for today. Don’t forget, your essays about the symbolic significance of the Moores in Brontë‘s novel are due next week,” said Miss Valerie.

While the rest of the class rushed to leave, he and Virgil lingered behind, packing their backpacks slower till the coast was clear. They stood up at the same time, Patton clutching his journal to his chest, and Virgil hunched awkwardly.

“Hey, is there some place we can’t talk? Privately?” Vigil asked, his voice gravelly.

“Mhm. Just uh, follow me.” Patton said.

They walked out the classroom and through the crowded hallways, Patton in the lead and Virgil following a foot behind. Murmurings of between bells chatter and tinny locker taps filled his ears. Two hallways later, Patton pulled Virgil round a courier and into the Nurses Office.

Flickering fluorescent ceiling lights cast shadows around the off-white walls. The only decorations were an anatomy poster, a poster of a cute bat dressed in a nurse’s cap, and the skeleton onesie clad teddy bear Nurse Talyn kept for students in emotional distress. Patton called him Mr Fluffybones. There were chairs, a sickbed, and a filing cabinet next to the supply closet. The office always smelled of rubbing alcohol, but it was clean, quiet, and most of all private. Talyn was a colleague of Emile’s so they let him stay in here on his bad days for as long as he needed to.

“Patton, it’s ten minutes till classtime.” Nurse Talyn said from their desk, their horn-rimmed glasses sliding down their nose. “Do you have a pass for another breather? Or is there something your friend needs help with?”

“No, nothing like that Talyn,” Patton said, smiling at the word ‘friend.’ “Virgil and I just needed someplace private to talk for a bit.”

“You know I’m not supposed to let students be in here unless they’re feeling unwell.”

“Pleeeese? We’ll head right to class afterwards. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Then, Patton unleashed his most secret of secret weapons, used for emergencies only and rarer than a red moon: the puppy Pat pout. When Talyn saw his pouty bottom lip and big eyes, their mouth went lemon tight. They only resisted for a few seconds before an audible groan told Patton he’d one this round.

“Ugh, fine! You get five minutes while I go restock my bandaid jar.” Talyn took a not even half empty jar with them as they went to the supply closet. “I blame Emile for teaching you that puppy dog pout. It should be illegal.”

“Thanks Nurse Talyn!” Works every time.

Patton turned around to where Virgil stood behind him, hands in the oversized letterman jacket and a crooked smirk on his face. If Patton didn’t know better, he would think Virgil looked almost impressed.

“We can talk privately now, don’t worry.” Patton said.

“Worry’s my middle name but, okay. So uh, about this.”

Virgil took a deep breath and pulled from one pocket a crumpled note. He unfurled is, words facing up: ‘I know you’re my soulmate. We all do. Can we talk?’

Standing in front of him now, seeing the dark bags under his wide eyes, Patton thought that Virgil looked so small and vulnerable. All shelled up in his too big jacked, clutching that paper between his shaking skinny fingers. He just wanted to hold the poor thing close and protect him from every nasty thing in this world. Instead he settled for smiling as warmly as possible, hoping to help Virgil feel more at ease.

“Just tell me first,” Virgil’s hands fidgeted. “By ‘we’ you mean my other soulmates and not, y’know, the whole school? I hope? Not that I think you’d out me or anything; you’re not like that. Not that I’d assume what you’re like, I jus—

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, kiddo.” Patton said, making his voice gentle. “I do mean our soulmates, and of course your secret is still safe with us.”

Upon hearing this though, Virgil’s whole body relaxed. “Heh, you really do say ‘kiddo.’ So how’d you find out?”

“Logan ran into Roman and me in the library earlier. We got to chatting and figured out the four of us are all soulmates.”

Virgil gave a low whistle. “I knew you guys were my soulmates but geez. All four of us? Fate must have a weird sense of humor.”

“Our gossamer spider-silk threads of fate are interwoven into one intricate home for our four hearts to feast upon entangled love.”

Patton mentally winced. Way to get weird and dark again Patton. Wait, he’s...smiling. Oh gosh, I really have a thing for nice smiles, don’t I?

“Wow Pat, that was...really lovely. And just the right amount of creepy. I dig it.”

Lovely? Me? Patton smiled, his freckled cheeks feeling warm all of a sudden. I knew you would be kind.

“I meant what I thought, by the way,” said Virgil. “You really do have gorgeous eyes.”

“And you really need to stop calling yourself an idiot,” said Patton.

Virgil chuckled, then looked down at his purple sneakers. “Did um...did Logan tell you about what happened?”

Patton rubbed his arm. “Yeah, he did.”

“So then you probably hate me, right? Argh, stupid question. Of course you do. Or at least Logan does. He probably thinks I’m just another stupid jerk athlete. Roman too. Not that I blame him after the number of times I’ve just stood by like an idiot and—

“I will physically fight you if you keep talking bad about yourself, Mister!”

The sharp outburst startled Virgil into shutting up. Patton didn’t often use his papa bear voice (as him mom called it) outside of the house or with anyone besides his younger cousin Elliot. But he couldn’t stand hearing Virgil talk that way about himself for another second. There was only room for one self deprecating soulmate in their group, and that was him.

“Logan doesn’t hate you Virgil. None of us do.” Patton said. “He’s upset still, sure, but never hate. And I told him that what he said to you was probably a little too harsh.”

Virgil’s head shot up. “You did?”

“Mhm. Of course his feelings were valid, but that couldn’t have been an easy situation for you either. Being in the closet is a pretty scary time, and the anxiety probably doesn’t help with it either.”

“H-how did you?”

“My godfather’s a therapist. Got pretty good at picking up on the signs from talking with him. Besides, you’re not the only one with a monster living between their ears.”

Patton rolled up his left sleeve, showing the tally marks of all the times he’d managed to come back out of the darkness and stand in the sunlight again. Virgil gave a quiet gasp, but Patton refused to turn away in shame from his soulmate, even if he did look at him with pity. When he met Virgil’s eyes however, they were filled with understanding.

In a bittersweet sort of way, it made Patton feel happy.

“I’m not saying you have to come out for us. Or go public, or do anything you’re not ready for yet. I just want you to know that we’re here for you when you are ready. And,” Patton held out his hand in offering, “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

He expected Virgil to take his handshake, maybe say thanks and offer to talk outside of school sometime. Maybe.

He did not expect Virgil to take his wrist in a gentle calloused grasp, turn his arm upward, bend down, and place a soft kiss on his scars.

It was sudden. It was impulsive. It was an act of pure reverence that set Patton’s pulse point thrumming faster than a hummingbirds heartbeat.

And judging from the look on his face, it shocked the hell out of Virgil just as much. He snatched his hand back as though his touch might burn Patton.

“I’m sorry! That was—I should’ve asked—-out of line. I—NGK!”

“Virgil, wait!”

Too late. Just as someone else was coming in, Virgil was running out the door, nearly knocking the other person over.

“WOah! Where’s the fire babe?” they asked.

Virgil paid him no mind. Didn’t even seem to hear him. Once again, Patton’s soulmate was gone before he could even try to make things right.

“Guess he’s got the runs or something. Ngh-ow. Forget it. Head hurts too much to care right now.”

The student who’d just come in was also wearing a letterman jacket, and their fingers hovered over a mean looking bruise near their temple. It took a second for Patton to recognize from the sunglasses who he was.

“You’re one of Virgil’s friends, Remy, right?” Patton asked.

Remy jumped, not realizing Patton was there. “His best friend, thank you very much. And who wants to knoOOHhhh I see. You’re one of his secret soulmates he won’t tell me about!”

Patton followed Remy’s eye line leading to his still uncovered arm. He quickly pulled his sleeve back down, blushing scarlet hot and hid behind his bangs. Remy chuckled.

“You know I gotta say, not at all what I pictured, but you are a cute little black kitten,” Remy said with a grin.

“Do you know where Virgil might’ve run off to? I want to go after him, but I need to get to class soon. Oh, it was all going so well, but maybe he thought he crossed a line and I’d be upset, but I’m not! He looked just short of a panic attack and I just...is he going to be okay?” Patton could’ve cried he was so worried.

Remy gave him a long unreadable once over, then sighed. “Look, if I know Virgil—and I do—then he’s either gone to the gym to blow off some steam, or holed himself up somewhere private where he can calm down. He doesn’t like people seeing his anxiety get the better of him if he can help it. Say it makes people uncomfortable.”

“Mental health isn’t anything to be embarrassed by, or of.”

Patton must have passed some sort of test, because Remy finally gave him a genuine smile of approval and lifted his sunglasses atop his head.

“Totes babe. Look, right now I gotta see a nurse about this goose egg hatching on my head, but I’ll try to look for him after. Kay? Ow!”

Patton signed. “Thank you Remy.”

“You still here, Patton?” Nurse Talyn called, coming out from the supply closet with an armload of bandaid boxes, a bad of cotton swabs, and a now full jar. “The second bell is about to ring. You need to get—“

They looked around the room, spotted Remy, and dropped their arms. Their face fell flat, along with the rest of the things they’d been carrying. Good thing that jar was plastic.

“Remy Dormier, did you fall asleep and hit your head in the hallway again?” Nurse Talyn asked, looking just about done with everything.

“Nope. Track field. Bottom bleacher,” said Remy, wincing and he touched the spot.

“That is the FOURTH time this week! That’s it.” They pulled out a crushable ice pack from their desk drawer and handed it to Remy. “You, on the bed while I call your parents. We have GOT to get a script from your Doctor for this obvious narcolepsy problem of yours. Patton, get to class. Go on, shoo!”

Not wanting to endure the tiny wrath of Talyn in full nurse mode, Patton left. Not before getting a wink from Remy that did little to lift his spirits. He speed walked to his last class of the day, but home economics was the last thing on his mind. He could still feel the kiss from before like a memory on his skin.

I hope he’ll be okay.

General Tag: @quoth-the-sparrow @altruistic-skittles @em-be-lievable @justisaisfine @broadwaytheanimatedseries @thekeytohappiness-is-you @jynxlovesluck @queer-human-being @phlying-squirrel @ab-artist @grey-lysander @a-valorous-choice @xx-fandom-potato-xx @impatentpending @book-of-charlie @randomslasher @tinkslittlebelle @insanelycoolish @ironwoman359 @icecoldparadise @bluebloodstains @purpleshipper @patchworkofstars @axyzel @hissesssss @beautifully-terribly @pink-and-purple-flowers @thatsanswitch @6tick6tock6 @hanramz-the-fander @azlinne @helplesscreator @thestoryofme13 @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @accidental-sanders @moonstone-fox @smokeyrutilequartz @madly-handsome @puns-and-patton @notveryglittery @eequalsmcscared @safesandersides @lizziepopanime @anxiously-unsatisfied-world @unikornavenger @fuck-my-life-i-want-food @backatthebein @mephonic @paperghastly @ravenclawangst @iamtrashcans @loganberrysanders  @ierindoodles @a-new-witch-in-learning @punsterterry @goldteethandacurseforthistown  @dragonsight9 @your-average-pangirl

Worst Impressions Tag: @everphantom @wundergirllovesyou @im-awkward-go-away @reinefandoms @shadowenbynerd @always-in-a-fandom @deadinsidebutliving @somehowsnakesblog @fandoms-winkitywonk @halfcrazedandrogynouswizard @i-am-such-a-mess-dot-mp4 @xionical @selectivereality @occasionally-pauciloquent  @donalev @princessbelix @a-new-witch-in-learning @justasadchildwithablog @megkir13 @cats-vetal-miking-vomit @karmels-stuff @daughterofsomnus @soijusthavetoask @to-precious-to-process @kimolothecatt @gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream @notveryglittery @loving-neko @corracii  @nerd-in-space  @absolutesandersidestrash @hanramz-the-fander @perfectly-precautiously-gay @minamishipsit-secondround @i-read-by-lamp  @irrelevantbutsanders @xon-the-virgex @band-be-boss-blog @themultishipperchild @mistress-jinx09 @anonymous-by-design @analogical-mess @marvelfangeek09 @incoherentfangirl  @mirror2thespirit @wherethewaterstarts-andyouend @snail-zo @redundant-statements-for-400 @deathshadowrules  @basicmillennial @beach-fan @withspaces @cisnesincorbata  @merlybird500 @lovingcreatorstrawberry @dante1138 @k9cat @no-no-no-no-6 @the-doctor-demigod-wizard @sanderssidesvp  @sevencrashing @karmels-stuff @tssfamily @kaioanxiety @reblogged-anything @theotherella @randomsandersides  @phantomofthesanderssides @unisaurioamorfo  @fabulouswritingfanboyofdeath @here-is-your-paper-trail-unicorn  @sniffingoutmywilltolive @pippippippin @shadowenbynerd  @sugarglider9603 @angels-and-dreams @corracii @larry-angels  @hexdream18243 @itsthemoooooooooon  @ibasicallyjustreblogeverything @stormblessedcastiel  @the-sweet-space-bi @bisexuallyinlove @nb-andromeda  @ijustreallylovesanderssides @everythings-coming-up-aces @loving-neko  @theunoriginaldaisy @dreamybluecupcake@selectivereality  @soft-transboy @veryvirginvirgil @astudyinfuckmylife @loving-life-my-way @carstairsdefense @wowimsogoddamnoriginal  @shaeshaetheravenclaw @anxiousangel121 @cataclysm-al  @marvelfangeek09 @ijustreallylovesanderssides @fanartfunart  @carstairsdefense @flufflerekt @floof-13 @mining-pup @a-demi-ghost @winged-hearts @ofdismaldays @okthnksbye  @b0y-guts @a-trans-ghost  @romantichopelessly @isaac-or-izzy  @turtle-haven @quietwords-loudthoughts  @pale-baguette  @kai-the-person @im-gonna-yeet-outta-here  @bunny222 @xxlithiumangelxx @tinyemogod  @edgy-gremlin @coloursintheblur  @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing  @im-a-solanum-lycopersicum  @zaisling   @fluffler @floof-13 @mining-pup  @damnitvirgil  @littleladynightshade @peanut0303 @seeyoube   @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @idiot-annonymous @winterswishing @unicornofdarknessstuff   @unicorndragon1-2-3@singularthoughtofstatic @notyourperfectmexicandaughter @surohsopsisofclouds @beesmoothie  @neon-skates  @llamaly  @a-gay-treee @thetruthaboutthesun @frankiprowsworld @pumpkindotorgdotuk @andreaissy @im-awkward-go-away @wundergirllovesyou

[rokutouxei]

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 12 OF 22

My heart is an unmade bed; it might look messy, but I swear it’s a safe place to rest. - Moriah Pearson

--

It doesn’t take long for the Rooftop to become their place.

At first, it is a matter of weather. The tail end of autumn and the first breezes of winter mean that the Grove can get a little too cold in the late afternoons when they meet; and in truth, the Rooftop is barely any better, but at least there’s a stunning view below, and a vending machine for hot drinks at the first floor. If it gets too cold out, there’s the storage room on the same floor that’s decked out with windows—Isaac keeps all the astronomical equipment in here, mostly the telescopes, but also a few plastic chairs and tables.

Peak convenience.

This was totally not what she had planned from the beginning.

Definitely. Not at all.

It doesn’t take long for them to surrender and make the Rooftop their little hiding space. The hours spent in companionable silence in the Grove have just changed locations, but—somehow, up here, where there’s only the two of them, it’s a little more… intimate. They spend an hour or so with their usual book exchange and then—they stay to listen to each other.

For hours. Sometimes long enough for them to be out past dinner.

It just feels right.

It feels right the same way she feels content that the books he ends up lending her do reveal quite a lot about his character. It feels right the same way he feels like every extra day they spend together, even if they are discussing the most trivial of things, she burrows a little deeper into his defenses. She devours every single title he passes on, Hosseini, Pratchett, Heiligman, Stone, no matter how long the book is, no matter how complicated it seems—and he lets his heart rest in every collection she hands him, Plath, Lorde, Angelou, Thomas, Lawrence.

Every book an opened door.

Every word just the littlest millimeter closer.

Take, for example, the time they began talking about The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Shaffer and Barrows, which was lent by Theo, and the conversation went:

“Okay, but you have to agree that there’s nothing quite like a hand-written letter. It hits different. Regular messages and calls are great, of course, but the idea that time and energy was lent to writing down a letter? Peak romance.”

Theo nods. “The personality in the handwriting.”

“Oh, definitely!” she nods. “And eventually you’ll be able to tell their emotions based on how their handwriting is a little different—something like the psychology of handwriting?”

“To me personally, it’s the hand-made nature that makes letters appealing.”

“Yes! The craft of it! The fact that the ink and the paper, and that it’s both visual and literary—” she emphasizes this with the classic chef’s kiss; pinching her thumb and index finger and kissing them away.

They talk about the most trivial of things, they talk about the deepest of things. Conversations shift from gossip to philosophy, from the news to deep fantasy. The Rooftop becomes theirs, becomes the little space they inhabit on campus where they can shake the wings of their little bond together out wide.

Of course, they could very well invite their other friends into this little book club of theirs; Arthur is pretty well-read; it will be easy to drag Dazai out if Arthur is involved; Isaac could budge with some convincing; but—

They just know that with each other, it’s different.

Like that time Theo arrives first at the Rooftop, and she manages to sneak up on him without him noticing, as he was so deep in his thoughts; she had caught him writing on his journal in his elegant script, and she had nearly yelled into his ear because of how surprised she was.

“A fellow connoisseur!” she says, sitting immediately next to him on the bench table, bumping shoulders; Theo is pulling his fountain pen away from the page to avoid marking on it. “Here I was being teased for writing in cursive for being old fashioned, and you’re out here doing the same!”

“I’ve never teased you for writing in cursive,” Theo insists, flashbacking through every book log he’d made her sign in the bookshop.

She nods excitedly. “I know! I thought you were just being nice, but it’s so cool to see you do it too!” She beams. “There’s a required hand-written portion in the test by the OSR and they required to write in print, and I was so sad… what about all my loopy L’s…”

“I like it because it’s convenient, not pretty,” Theo says with a frown.

“That’s because you already have gorgeous handwriting,” she quips. “And of course, you write with a fountain pen. Just the right amount of bougie for a business major.”

“Excuse me?”

One book after another, one Saturday into the next. It doesn’t matter that she’s at the bookshop twice a week, that they see each other even outside of this space; when they’re up here, they are different people. They are more similar people. They go around the world sitting at the Rooftop exchanging stories. They switch Antoine de Saint-Exupéry for Emily Dickinson; Murakami Haruki for Richard Siken; Phillip Williams for Alexander Solzhenitsyn.

She talks about the astronomy club, admits how at the beginning her only reason for joining was because she wanted to get access to the rooftop, and now, how much more she’s gotten out of it. He talks about the business club and how the snobbier members had pushed him out of active membership. She talks about her childhood, the familiar streets of the city below, all she’s ever known. He talks about Vincent and the younger years, living out in the country, running around in rye fields dreaming of the future.

The two of them are friends.

Unlikely, maybe, and at first maybe at least a little bit unwilling, but—they are now. And who would have imagined that one little invitation from Vincent to do some modeling in his little apartment would lead to this? To whispers about Anna Karenina. To plans to going to the post office to check out their most beautiful postcards—to send them to each other, if only in the spirit of it. To hiding away from the rest of the busy university when the rest of the world is too loud.

To muse about the future that seems too far out, to feel like it is close enough to grasp.

And as one season seeps into the next and Theo walking her home to her dormitory’s doorstep with her book in his hands just becomes normal, the vaguest twinkle of a thought shimmers in both their minds for the briefest of moments.

They just don’t catch it yet.

--

It is late November when the official administrative instructions for Dragon’s Hoard’s closures for the holiday seasons come into Arthur’s and Theo’s inboxes.

The email also delightfully includes the details about their holiday pay.

Dragon’s Hoard is a small bookshop, sure, but it is still owned by one of the richer, old-money families of the city, so of course, the employees get a sizable 13th-month pay at the end of the year. But not only that—they’re also eligible for a bit of holiday pay. A lot of things come into the computation of it, as far as they’re concerned—the state of the economy, the year’s average revenue from the bookshop, just about how nice their boss is feeling this year—so it varies, but this year…

This year, Saint-Germain took it up a notch.

Maybe even two.

Arthur whistles as he reads the email, staring at the multiple digits itemizing what they’ll receive soon. “How does this man make money, why does it seem like he never runs out?”

Theo puts down the fresh stock of books onto the counter for sorting. He hasn’t been on his phone since his shift started, because he likes to wave a bit of moral superiority over Arthur out of pettiness. “Bonus kicked in?”

“Kicked hard,” Arthur says, flashing his phone screen to Theo. “Check that out.”

Theo catches the numbers and does the math quickly in his head. When one is saving up for something, every tiny bit counts. He had intended to put the entirety of his bonus onto the money he was putting aside, but with this amount…

“That’s a lot,” is all he can say. The bookshop has been operating as per usual throughout the year, and with the spreadsheets, there hadn’t been a huge leap of income either…

“I guess if your last name is Saint-Germain, you’re probably rich as balls,” Arthur comments, taking his phone back again to check the email one more time to make sure he didn’t dream that up. “But he probably gets something out of this too.”

“Charity work, maybe, against his taxes.”

“Probably.”

And if Arthur had any sense of self-preservation, he would have stopped there. Would have kept his phone in his pocket and dropped the conversation altogether, returning to the hum of tasks left in the bookshop for today. But would Arthur really be Arthur if he didn’t live to put himself in harm’s way for the amusement of it?

So, he slides up against Theo and asks, “So where are you spending the money?”

Theo’s eyebrow twitches. “Vincent,” is his short reply. And that should already say it all, but—

“No Christmas gift for the missus? You know, there’s only so much dates can do, sometimes you got to give a little bling, before—”

Arthur wins mercy from Theo’s punch by promising him free lunch.

--

“Dazai, I’m not pursuing him,” she sighs. “That’s not the right verb.”

“Oh? Then what should it be? Are you ‘courting’ him?”

The two of them are sitting across each other at the café Vincent works in, each with a book in hand. Dazai doesn’t seem too interested in reading the Japanese translation of Pride and Prejudice.

He closes the small bound book, bookmark already in place. He has that knowing smile on his face that lets her know she’s already lost before the battle’s even begun. “Toshiko-san, you can’t keep telling me one thing and then showing the world another.”

When she first spotted Dazai across the café earlier today, at the start of her break in-between classes, she thought it might not be too bad to stay with him until her next lecture begins, for some wholesome, literary students bonding time. Besides, reading next to each other has always been their way of hanging out anyway—very stereotypical of them.

She should have figured out that she is transparent to her best friend and just being next to each other with unsaid things clouding her mind would eventually lead to conversations she doesn’t want to have yet.

It’s just her luck that it’s worth it to be in Dazai’s company.

She closes her own book shut. Gabriel Garcia Marquez can wait. “I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know why you guys keep insisting that there is something more in between us when there isn’t.”

“I haven’t seen you get so worked up about maintaining a book exchange.”

“Hey, we did that too!”

“Not for long,” Dazai notes, and he’s right. They did, at some point, the summer before, the one they spent together after neither of them decided to go home for the extended holiday. They tore through two books, sometimes more, a week, for a month, until—well, they decided to do something else.

She shakes her head. “They’re just books.”

“The books, the dare,” he counts with his slender fingers, “you have to take responsibility sometimes, you know? You don’t need to blame anyone else for your own actions.”

She huffs as she drops her book into her bag unceremoniously. “You are blowing things out of proportion.”

“Then there’s the Rooftop, and the Halloween date, and—”

“Oh would you look at the time,” she says, standing up suddenly from her chair, the tips of her ears red, her voice’s loudness near comical as other customers from every direction turn toward her—“I’m going to be late for class if I don’t go now, I’ll see you soon, Osamu!”

Dazai smiles and waves goodbye even if he knows her next class isn’t in an hour.

--

The weather is unforgiving outside, and the entire horizon white with snow, the breeze bordering unpleasant. The two of them have a back-and-forth of switching places today: maybe at the Little Owl, or the cafeteria at the university’s main library, maybe even at the van Gogh’s house, but—

They find themselves at the Rooftop anyway.

Today, they’ve swapped J. Neil Garcia with Ursula K. Le Guin, and after an interesting exchange about identity, self, and the importance of fantasy in imagining what else one can become, they’re sitting across each other on a table, nursing what’s left of their vending machine hot drinks.

The question pops out of her mouth so suddenly, even she has a look of surprise after she’s said it.

“Does Arthur ask you about this, too?”

Theo puts down his paper cup of coffee. “About what?”

“About this,” she says, making a gesture at the both of them. “You know, our little book exchange. Hanging out on Saturdays. Does he make a big deal out of it?”

“When he’s being a bastard,” Theo answers quickly. “Is he bothering you?”

“No! No.” She shakes her head, smiling at him reassuringly. “I was more curious if it bothers you.”

“Why would it bother me?”

The question is simple, but Theo watches as her face contorts in some sort of confusion. Sure, Arthur being his usual unfunny joker can get on his nerves, but the teasing doesn’t bother him in the way he knows she is asking about. Not when he knows what’s really going on.

Or he thinks he knows.

“Doesn’t he make this a bigger deal than it is?”

“He does.”

Unease mixed into her genuine curiosity: “That doesn’t bother you?”

Theo doesn’t like that expression on her. “Would you rather I more firmly correct him?”

The smile finally returns to her face as she playfully hits him on the arm. “No, I know what you mean by ‘firmly’. He’s like that but Arthur’s still my friend, you know.”

“You know he deserves it.”

“He does, but still.” The smile doesn’t go away and relief fills Theo’s veins. He’s not used to seeing her so upset. It only reminds him of the one time he messed up after the Halloween party. “I’m glad it doesn’t, though. I thought we’d have to… I don’t know, tone it down, or something.”

Theo knows one thing and that it is always more than with her—even when he doesn’t understand quite what it is. Instead, he says, “They’re free to misunderstand however they want.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Yeah, you’re right.”

For some moments, they are quiet. They’ve shared so many silences that they’ve learned when it’s the silence that’s fine in being empty, and the silences where something is being phrased, ordered, prepared, like the way an inhale does before an exhale. Theo knows this is the latter.

So he waits.

What he does hear after, though, is not anything he’s expecting.

“You know, Theo, I don’t think I’ve ever really heard about what you want to do with your life.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, bored. “It’s not anything interesting.”

“Try me?”

Theo doesn’t know what to tell her at all. Instead, he looks down at the town below, out the window, making out the shapes of houses through the blanket of white. He no longer knows where his dreams end and where his delusions begin. It’s not that he hadn’t toyed with the options—curating, working for a museum, art dealership—but nothing has really caught him. Not when he has something more urgent at hand.

After what seems like an infinite number of moments, he answers: “I want to see Vincent flourish as an artist.”

Silence.

The lack of reaction causes him to turn back at her. “What? Not going to laugh?”

“What?” she blinks. “No, no, I’m not laughing. That’s actually pretty sweet of you.”

“Stop. I’ve had enough brother complex jokes from Arthur.”

“No, that’s not—oh my god, he’s right, holy shit.” She stifles a laugh onto her sleeve. He glares at her, but it only makes her laugh harder. “Haha, wait, no, relax. I was going to say something serious.”

He raises an eyebrow, daring her to continue. She clears her throat.

“That’s a dream about Vincent, though. And while I respect it—I want to hear about yours.”

“That is my dream,” Theo insists. “Everything that happens past that is a bonus.”

She shakes her head. “No, no, that’s definitely not it. There has to be something you want to do for yourself, right?”

Theo has half a heart to wish that he’s built enough of a persona in her head that a little version of him in her mind answers that’s none of your business for him. Because it’s not right, it’s not entirely right, so he can’t tell that to her, but he can’t tell her either.

He isn’t like her. She’s a rocketship pointed at the open Milky Way with directions and a path coded right into her system.

He doesn’t even have a trajectory.

Just lost in orbit, an astronaut detached from their mission, breathing on oxygen that’s running out.

He doesn’t get to say anything.

But because she is who she is in that laser-piercing way Theo can’t sometimes stand, she says, instead, softly, her voice so gentle it sounds like she is offering Theo a flower made out of snowflakes: “He’d want you to pursue your own little happiness too, you know?”

He closes his eyes in response to this—like blocking out one sense would make this all easier to push away. And when he answers, his voice sounds hoarse, like he’s been screaming. “I have no dream,” he says, simply. There’s a space at the end of it that lingers, one that could be filled with yet or anymore. It weighs a million tons.

And in return, she beams at him like the sun, reaching out to pull at his cheek that it makes his eyes fly open.

“Wet gow—"

“We’ll find you one, stupid,” she answers, ever so certainly. “Make that your current dream! To find one, you know?”

And no, Theo doesn’t know. Theo doesn’t really have feelings about this anymore, except that he wants to do his best for Vincent. Maybe one day there will be a dream. But not now. Maybe one day. He takes a sip out of the hot coffee from the paper cup, and it takes like the cheap vending machine drink it actually is, but—

He holds in his heart that maybe she’s right—and somehow, the thought makes the coffee just a little bit better.

--

A few days later, Theo hums under his breath as he flips the pancake he’s currently cooking in the kitchen. Because Saint-Germain respects that people buy holiday presents in advance, he and Arthur have finally gotten their holiday pay in. And this morning, the bank statement’s updated and the cheque has cleared: the amount is fully deposited in his account, and now there are no takebacks.

This is really, really happening.

He hears a yawn coming from down the hall and out comes Vincent, fresh from the studio. His hands are stained with paint in varying degrees of dry, and he’s bringing with him two clear glasses: one muddied with paint water, the other with the remnants of pulp from orange juice. Theo hopes there was no incident of switched glasses last night—that was not a fun experience last time.

Vincent places the glasses on the sink nearby and hovers around his younger brother. “Pancakes?” He smiles. “Something good happen to you?”

“Yeah, really good,” Theo says, unable to hide his excitement. He slides the cooked pancake on top of another on a waiting plate, and hands it to Vincent with a grin. “I can’t wait for you to hear about it, broer. Eggs?”

“Please, and over easy,” Vincent answers, taking the plate with him, off to set their little dining table. “Is this about you finally dating?”

Theo nearly crushes the egg in his hand. “What?”

“It’s not?” Vincent is sincerely shocked. “I was sure it was. You sounded so happy.”

“You know I don’t have time for that.” Theo huffs. Nearly puts too much salt. He prods at the egg with a little more force than required.

Coming back to the kitchen for utensils and a carton of juice, Vincent ruffles his brother’s hair gently. “You’re always working too hard, it’s not bad to entertain those kinds of things sometimes, you know?”

Theo flips the egg. The oil crackles loudly like his denial. “There’s nothing to entertain,” he insists, as Vincent slips back to the table. “You don’t have to worry about that, broer.”

“Okay.” Vincent sits at the table. He pretends to not see right through Theo. “So, what’s gotten you in such a good mood?”

“My holiday paycheck came in the other day, and the boss was extra generous with the bonus this year,” Theo begins, cracking another egg over the pan. Stirs it gently to make a nice, scrambled egg. He’s so used to domestic life with his brother, for a moment the idea of him going away flashes in his mind with a jolt of fear. He shakes it away as he taps some salt over the pan. “Went to the bank yesterday, and it reflected today.”

“Nothing’s better than a good holiday bonus, yeah?” Vincent says, smiling in support. “I got a good bit too. Might be enough to get a good new easel.”

“Great timing,” Theo says, a soft smile on his face. Turns off the fire, puts the egg on the plate, and nearly rushes in excitement to his brother on the table.  (Not without coming back for the maple syrup in the fridge, of course, because who eats pancakes without it?)

Vincent faces the table properly to begin to eat breakfast, but before he even gets to reach for his fork and knife, Theo has his hands in his.

“Great timing, because you’ll need the easel. At the current rate, I’m just going to need to work for two more full months… and we might be able to rent a decent space with the amount we’ve been saving up for an exhibit.” Theo has stars in his eyes. He hasn’t been this excited in years. His dream has always been to be the wind underneath his brother’s wings—letting him fly. That was all he ever wanted. He can think of himself some other time. This time, this is for Vincent. And here they are: so close to it.

Vincent smiles at Theo, beams, “That’s great! Congratulations!” but pulls his hands away anyway. Like he touched something hot. He clears his throat and turns to his plate. “Let’s eat.”

For a moment, Theo furrows his eyebrows at his brother’s reaction, but then lets it go.

It doesn’t occur to him until much later that he shouldn’t have.