#apologies for the intrusion by our host

[sara-scribbles]

Melting the Dragon King’s Heart (Part 2)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/F!Reader Summary: After falling down some stairs, you wake up in the body of a villain from one of Idia's cheesy romance books. Destined to die a fiery death, you have to figure out a way to change your fate. Word Count: 8,000 Notes: I decided to split this part into two. The original is about 11k words and counting. This way I can work on the final part but also provide everyone with something. Reader uses she/her pronouns Warnings: Physical abuse, emotional abuse

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

After revising the proposal and sending along the messengers, you spent a lot of time filling out paperwork. Malleus seemed to trust you to do more, so you found yourself given more work. Though you’re glad he trusts you more, you hate all the new work.

Because of all the work, you’re unable to do much besides hole up in the office. Thankfully Diablo is always there to bring snacks and remind you of the time. You often get lost in the paperwork and forget to do the basic necessities such as eating dinner. Malleus is always happy to answer any questions you have, and having his office across the way is very handy.

It’s a few weeks later that you notice the castle is abuzz with more activity than usual. You can hear everyone rushing back and forth while signing off on a few things. You can see staff rush by with vases, flowers and linen. 

“Diablo, what’s going on?” you ask the butler, who places a new cup of tea down.

“The palace is preparing for his highness’s birthday,” he informs you. “It is a national holiday so Briar Valley throws a party for the citizens. There’s also a ball that is hosted in his honor where we invite the surrounding kingdoms. This year's theme is a masquerade.”

You had completely forgotten about his birthday. Setting aside your work, you lean forward on your elbow while strumming your fingers on the desk. “What should I get him as a gift?” you muse aloud.

Glancing over at the butler, he pretends to stare straight ahead. After a moment, he sighs before shaking his head. “I apologize, your highness, but I do not think I should tell you what to get his highness.”

“But I don’t really know what he likes…” That’s not completely true, but it would be nice to get something that you know Malleus will like.

“My advice is that as long as the gift has your thoughts and feelings, his majesty will like it.” Diablo bows slightly before leaving.

Letting out a deep sigh, you jot down a list of things you know Malleus likes and dislikes. From your previous conversations, you do know some things. He likes gargoyles, abandoned places, and cold treats. He dislikes whole cakes and gargoyles that serve no function.

“What to get him…” A maid gently raps on the door, disrupting your thoughts.

“I apologize for disturbing your highness, but a letter just arrived.” She hands you the cream colored envelope with a rose wax seal.

Once she leaves, you open the rather thick letter. Reading through it, your eyes slowly widen with each word. Excitement and trepidation fill every fiber in your body. Leaving your study, you make the very quick trip to Malleus’s office next door. Your sudden intrusion startles him from the paper he’s reading.

“He responded!” you exclaim, slapping the letter down on the desk.

He quizzically looks at you before taking the letter. You watch as he quickly scans the contents. “Riddle Rosehearts wants to meet about our proposal,” you explain. “It’s a good sign, right?”

He sets the letter down and nods. “It would seem he wants to iron out the details. I’m surprised he responded so quickly, since I’ve heard he’s the type not to make decisions without careful consideration.” He ponders, “Perhaps he’s been wanting to establish relations with us and this gives him a good excuse.”

“Right! So, when do you want to go?”

“You wish to do this soon?” he asks.

Nodding, you explain, “I think it would be ideal to do this sooner rather than later.”

“Hmm… I have a few meetings to attend with some diplomats from other countries. And then there’s the banquet…” He shifts through a notebook containing his day-to-day schedule. “Maybe we could go… no that won’t work.”

After a while of going through his schedule, he sighs deeply. Brows furrowing, a small frown appears on his lips. “It seems I will be busy for a few months. We may not be able to do this as quickly.”

There’s a pause before you throw out a suggestion. “What if I go and meet with him?”

“Alone?” His frown deepens.

“Yes. I believe I can work on this with him. We won’t sign anything, but it will at least iron out the details.” You want to do this. It’s something you worked on for a while, so it would be nice to be the one to close the deal. And you can’t say you’re not curious to see what the Queendom of Roses is like.

“I know you might be worried about my abilities, but I would like the opportunity to prove myself beyond paperwork and readings.”

Malleus regards you quietly. The frown has left his face but his brows are still creased. “I do not doubt your abilities. I just worry about you being in another country alone.”

A small laugh escapes your lips. His concern for your safety is endearing. “I can bring a guard or two with me, if that will ease your worries,” you quickly add.

That seems to alleviate some of his worry. “Yes, I think that will be fine. When would you like to leave?”

Taking the letter, you fold it back into the envelope. “His highness said he could meet starting next week. How about a week from now? It should give me enough time to send a response back and prepare for the trip.”

“So soon…” he mutters. Letting out a huff, he waves off whatever is concerning him “I will instruct Silver and Sebek to accompany you. Diablo will help you prepare everything else.”

You’re surprised he’s having his two closest knights go with you. “Are you sure? I could take someone else.”

He shakes his head. “These two are one of my most trusted knights, so it would be appropriate that they guard you on your journey.”

Seeing the firm set of his lips, you know not to argue. “Thank you. I will gather some material and start packing.” 

Turning to leave, Malleus calls to you. “How are your parents doing?” he asks suddenly.

You halt, almost stumbling in your steps, before slowly turning toward him. “They’re fine. Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking we can send them an invitation for my birthday ball,” he explains. You can’t read his expression.

Every fiber in your being wants to scream ‘no’ and that you never want to see them. But you know you can’t. You have to keep up appearances for now. “If that’s what you would like, then please invite them,” you respond as calmly as you can.

He’s quiet as he studies you before nodding. “If there is anyone else you want to invite, please let Diablo know. The invitations will go out in about three weeks.” He returns to his papers.

You suddenly have an idea. “Is there anything you want for your birthday?” you inquire, walking over to stand in front of his desk.

“Nothing in particular,” he says, not looking up.

“Really? Nothing at all?” You’re hoping he’d give you some ideas. Buying birthday gifts for Idia was easy since he usually wanted something related to his games or anime.

Malleus finally looks up from his papers. “I’m sure whatever you decide, I will like.”

You resist the urge to groan. “Diablo said something similar, you know…” Placing both hands on his desk, you give him a stern look. “If I give you something you hate, let me know right away. Okay?”

He blinks twice. “I doubt you’d ever give me something I’d hate.” He pauses when he sees the slight turn of your lips. “...but I will let you know if that happens.”

“Great!” Turning on your heel, you leave his office. You miss the smile on his lips as he watches you go with a fond look.

---

The trip to the Queendom of Roses is an uneventful ride. Silver and Sebek do accompany you on horseback. Neither say much so you’re left going over things in your head. You’re not sure how this will go, but can only hope you don’t start a war.

The Queendom is lush and green with picturesque homes. Everything reminds you somewhat of images from the Victorian era. When you arrive at the castle, you’re greeted by the queen’s personal advisor, Trey Clover.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness,” he greets with a deep bow.

Taking his offered hand, you step out of the carriage. “Thank you for having me, Mr. Clover.”

“Please call me Trey. If you’ll follow me, his majesty has prepared some tea.” Silver and Sebek follow a few paces behind as you’re led through the rose garden. Some of the roses, you notice, are white while others are red. And some of the red roses almost look to be dripping in paint.

When you arrive at the heart of the garden maze, you are greeted by the queen himself, Riddle Rosehearts. He’s dressed impeccably, though you wouldn’t expect less from someone who follows rules strictly. Though much shorter than Trey, there’s something about his presence that seems to tower over everyone.

He greets you with a bow. “It’s nice to meet you in person.” He’s polite but firm.

“Thank you for having me.” As you dip into a bow, you can’t help but marvel at his composure. For someone who’s around your age, he carries himself as if he’s much older and wiser.

“Trey, please place her highness across from me,” he orders. Silver and Sebek melt somewhere into the background without a word.

As you take the offered seat, you give him a tentative smile. “You can call me by my name. I’d like to think we’ll be good friends soon.”

He seems to sputter a bit before finding himself. “If you insist. Please just call me Riddle, then.”

As tea is served, you engage in small talk. Though you’re eager to get on to the topic of the proposal, etiquette dictates you share pleasantries. It would be considered rude since the tea and treats were specially prepared. The strawberry tarts are delicious so you don’t really mind.

After enjoying the tea, Riddle wastes no time getting onto the business. “Your proposal is indeed interesting to us, however, I want to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

He leans forward, hands propped under his chin. “What would you do if we said no?”

There’s a pause. You hadn’t actually considered they would reject your proposal. After a moment, you carefully choose your words. “I would respect your decision. Ultimately, you do not need to accept the proposal. We are not the type of country to force our will on to another. Though, I do think it would be foolish not to take the deal.”

He gestures for you to explain. “Though the Queendom is rich in crops, you do lack magical resources. As you’re aware, Briar Valley is old and has many deposits of magic, which have been refined into its purest form. I’m sure trading between us would help increase the Queendom’s magical might.”

Riddle leans back as he mulls over your words. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, wondering what is going through his head. After a few moments, he smiles. “Let us draft up an official agreement, then.”

“You accept?” you ask, a bit surprised considering how serious he had been looking. He almost looked like he was about to reject the offer.

“Yes. I’ve always thought it would be good to become allies with our neighboring countries,” he explains. “I realize we haven’t really interacted in the past, but I hope this will be the start to a good relationship between our kingdoms.”

Relief washes over you. “I agree. I think this will be beneficial to both of us in the long run.” There’s a loud commotion that causes you both to turn and look around. “Is…is everything okay?”

Riddle frowns. “There shouldn’t be any problems… Trey?” The green haired man from before does not appear, which causes Riddle’s frown to deepen.

Then, there’s a loud shout. “Get back here!”

A gray blur bursts through the bushes and makes a beeline toward you and Riddle. A redhead and a brunette follow suit, both looking disheveled. “You can’t be here, Grim!” the brunette shouts.

The gray blur stops short and you realize it’s a cat. A strange cat that can stand on two feet with blue flames coming from its ears. You can’t help but stare as you realize who this cat is. And just as you thought, another person comes through the maze, out of breath. Yūki, the protagonist of ‘Melting the Dragon King’s heart’ and the one who saves Malleus, stands before you.

“Grim! Trey said he’d feed you some tarts later!” Yūki shouts.

“Mrrrawh! I want a tart now!” Grim howls.

Riddle stands up, his chair falling to the ground. His face is bright red. “What do you think you’re doing! We have an important guest and you make a spectacle!”

“Uhh… uh oh!” The cat slinks back at the sudden anger rolling off in waves from Riddle.

The redhead manages to grab Grim by the scruff of his neck. “Gotcha!”

Trey steps in along with Silver and Sebek. “I apologize, Riddle. We weren’t able to catch him.”

You, however, can’t take your eyes off the protagonist. In the books Yūki is a magicless human in a world filled with magic. However, that never stops them from traveling to different places and having adventures with their friend, Grim. It’s during one of their trips that they happen to meet Malleus, and everything else falls into place.

You never thought much about where Yūki’s last adventure was before coming to Briar Valley since the story glossed over everything. But to see them before the start of the novel is strange, yet you’re curious.

Feeling your gaze, Yūki turns to you. Their eyes are bright and filled with wonder. “Hello, your highness.” They bow. “I apologize for interrupting your meeting.” They ignore the others who are still squabbling. Riddle doesn’t look ready to calm down any time soon either.

“It’s nice to meet you…?”

“Yūki! And that,” they point to the cat who’s munching on leftovers, “is Grim. We’re adventures.”

Though you’ve only spoken a few words, you can feel their warmth and sincerity. No wonder they’re able to break the magic on Malleus so easily. They’re like an early spring day coming to thaw the remaining coldness from winter. Ironic, you think.

“An adventure? Where else have you traveled?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, we just came back from visiting the Island of Woe. But we’ve also seen the Shaftlands, Scalding Sands, Coral Sea, and the Sunset Savanna.” They tick off each location on their fingers.

From your memories, you’ve never been anywhere besides your home and then to Briar Valley. The Queendom of Roses is the first place you’ve ever visited. “That’s a lot of places! You must have a lot of fun.”

Yūki chuckles, rubbing the back of their neck. “Yeah… we always manage to get into some kind of trouble, so it’s not that great. I’ve heard Briar Valley is a nice, quaint place…”

“Yes, it’s quiet but the people there are wonderful. You should come visit someday.” The offer is genuine. 

They smile, making their face light up. “We definitely will. I think right now Grim and I are going to rest a bit more here.”

“Is the food good there?” Grim suddenly butts in. There are crumbs all over his mouth, which Yūki begins wiping off with a napkin.

You nod thoughtfully. “I would say so. If you come to visit the castle, I’ll make sure to have our chefs whip up a wonderful meal.” You haven’t had much complaint about the food. Though there are some comfort meals you miss from home.

“Sweet! Let’s go there next, Yūki!” The cat’s eyes light up at the prospect.

They groan while crossing their arms. “I still need time to rest from our last adventure. Anyways, Riddle said we could stay as long as we wanted, which means you’ll have access to unlimited tarts.”

Grim huffs but doesn’t seem too bothered. “I guess you’re right…”

Riddle, having calmed down, sits back in his seat. “I do apologize for the abrupt intrusion from my knights.”

The two who had been trying to catch grim, kneel. “We apologize for intruding, your majesty,” they both say in unison

Trey shakes his head. “Honestly… this is Ace and Deuce. They’re newly appointed knights, so they’re still rough around the edges.”

“I don’t mind. You’re knights are a lively bunch.” The two have the decency to look embarrassed.

“A bit too lively,” Riddle mutters. Letting out a sigh, he gestures to Yūki and Grim. “These two are esteemed guests.”

“That’s right! Me and my henchhuman are super important!” Grim boasts, crossing his short arms while puffing out his chest.

Yūki glances at you with an apology in their eyes. “Don’t go getting a big head, Grim,” they warn jokingly. 

“Too late! His head is already huge,” Ace teases.

“My head’s normal sized!”

You hear Riddle sigh once more as he rubs his temples. It seems any talk about the proposal is over, but you don’t mind. With how lively everyone else is, things are bound to never be boring.

Your gaze once more turns to Yūki. They’re different from what you expect. Seeing them laugh without a care in the world reminds you about something in the book. In the story, Yūki does lament the fact that they won’t be able to travel anymore once they marry Malleus. They put their adventures on hold. You don’t remember the story ever saying that Yūki laughed in such a carefree way.

Meeting your intense stare, they regard you curiously. “Is there something wrong, your highness?”

You wave them off. “No. It just seems like you’re really close with everyone here…”

They nod eagerly. “The thing about adventuring is that you meet people from different backgrounds and walks of life. I enjoy adventuring for that very reason. I guess I can’t imagine staying in one place for too long when there’s places I still haven’t seen.”

“So, would you want to adventure your whole life?”

“Yes, that’s the goal!” Their grin is infectious. 

As Deuce and Ace draw their attention away, you find yourself thinking. Seeing an enthusiastic Yūki and Grim compared to the more subdued versions in the story is so jarring. It’s almost like once the events of the story happen, all of Yūki’s personal dreams and goals get pushed to the back. 

By now you’ve accepted your life as the queen. And perhaps with you here, the story has changed. Perhaps you don’t have to follow the story in order to live. A very selfish part of you doesn’t want to leave Briar Valley like you had originally planned. And maybe that’s okay.

As you watch the two adventures talk animatedly, you make a decision. You’ll figure out how to stop your parents your own way.

---

Returning to Briar Valley after a few days away, something has changed. It seems like Malleus has started following you around more. The moment you stepped out of the carriage, Malleus was there to greet you, which you thought was sweet. However, he’s started coming into your office for nothing in particular. He’ll sit in one of your chairs pretending to read whatever papers or book he’s brought with him. You can often feel him hovering, gaze following your every move. It’s like he’s watching and waiting for something to happen. 

It’s much like how your parents were always watching you, and if they couldn’t monitor you, they had one of the maids do it. Like a bug under the microscope, you never had peace to yourself until you slept. By then, you were too tired to do anything more than just sleep.

It’s starting to get on your nerves. When you ask him what he wants, he simply says he doesn’t want anything. But you can tell he wants something! But he won’t tell you!

SNAP!

You blink as you stare down at the now broken pen in your hands. Black ink oozes out and drips onto the paper you were working on. Malleus immediately perks up from his spot across from your desk.

“Is everything alright?”

Letting out a long breath through your nose, you summon some magic to clean up the mess on your hand. The broken pen is tossed in the trash. “I’m fine,” you mutter, not looking up.

There’s a pause though you can feel him staring once more. Finding your spare pen, you crumble up the ruined papers. “It seems you’re upset,” he muses. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No,” you reply curtly.

Perhaps your tone is a bit too icy because when you look up, you can see the hurt in his gaze. Sighing, you lean forward and cover your face. “I… I didn’t mean to be snappy with you, Malleus. …Why are you hovering so much?”

There’s silence before he answers, “I missed you. Lilia said that if I missed you, I should spend more time with you.”

Looking up once more, you’re not sure what to say. You let out a dry chuckle. “I see… If you want to spend time together, just let me know. I don’t mind spending time together, I just don’t like you hovering.”

“I didn’t realize. I’m sorry,” he apologizes sincerely.

“I’m sorry too for not communicating with you better about this.” You sit back, body suddenly feeling tired. “I’ve spent a lot of my life being watched, and it wasn’t pleasant. I want to spend more time with you, but not like this.”

You glance at him tiredly. There’s a harshness in his gaze but it vanishes too quickly for you to fully understand. “I apologize for making you uncomfortable. It was never my intention.” He lowers his head, his lips are pressed in a firm line.

“I know.” He would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.

“Do you want to take a walk in the gardens?” he asks suddenly.

A break would do you some good. Following Malleus to the gardens, you stroll through the roses. Though the Queendom had lovely roses, there’s something about these roses that you like more.

He leads you to the center of the garden where you sit. You lean against his side, eyes closed, enjoying the fresh air. Malleus traces patterns on the palm of your hand. You sit like that for a while before Malleus breaks the silence.

“While you were away, I walked into your office wanting to see you. It made me realize how little time we spend together outside of our work. I’d like to spend more time with you doing things like this,” he admits.

You hum in agreement. “I’m always open to spending time together.”

Malleus weaves your fingers together with his. “Even if we don’t do anything?”

“Yes. Sitting here and enjoying each others’ company is enough.” Opening your eyes, you smile back at him. “I prefer this over you hovering.”

He nods. “I will keep that in mind. Perhaps next time I should be more clear with Lilia on my question…”

“Or you could ask me. Why not go to the source?” you suggest. It’ll save you from any miscommunication.

“Alright. I’ll come to you if I have any questions or concerns.” He chuckles as he squeezes your hand.

There’s a pause before you ask a question that’s been plaguing your mind for a while. “Why did you marry me? I don’t come from a country that can offer much, so it’s not like Briar Valley gained anything.”

Pulling away slightly, his brows crease. “Did your parents not tell you of the deal?”

“No. They just told me it was an honor to be marrying you.” They had told you nothing beyond that you were to marry a complete stranger. The glee in their gazes as they concocted their scheme to take over Briar Valley remains fresh in your mind.

He mutters something under his breath before shaking his head. “One of your ancestors from long ago sought out my grandmother for a blessing. Apparently their land was on the verge of collapse and my grandmother offered to bless the land once more. In exchange, they or their descendants would have to marry off their first born to her grandson. I wasn’t born then, but it seems grandmother already knew I would be eventually.”

You slowly process the information. “So essentially, it was just timing that it happened to be me?”

“My grandmother never really explained but when the time came, she told me I’d be marrying you.” He runs his thumb over your knuckles. “But I am glad it was you that I married.”

Your face warms as he gazes at you sincerely. “I’m glad too,” you manage to sputter out. Sometimes Malleus can say the sappiest things with a straight face. Yet, you know he’s always true to his feelings. It never fails to make your heart flutter.

Your gaze drops to his lips and stays there for a bit longer than you mean. You haven’t kissed him, and now you’re wondering how it would feel. You wonder if he would be a gentle kisser or would he bite at your lips with his sharp fangs. You wouldn’t mind either way…

Feeling your face warm at the sudden thoughts, you realize that Malleus has shifted a bit closer. Peering back at him, he watches you with half-lidded eyes. His usual bright eyes are dark with swirling emotions.

“Malleus…?” Your voice is barely a whisper.

He reaches up to stroke the right side of your face. He traces the curve of your jaw before gently grasping your chin. There’s a fire burning in his gaze as he leans closer. You stay completely still, barely daring to breathe.

His lips are inches away from you before he asks, “Can I?” His gaze flickers to meet yours.

You nod wordlessly and he-

“KING MALLEUS!” The voice that echoes through the garden causes you to jerk back in surprise. You almost stumble off the bench if not for Malleus’s quick reflexes as he steady’s you with a hand to the small of your back.

“Sebek, I don’t think you need to yell so loudly,” another voice admonishes with little heat.

Nervously clearing your throat, you quickly stand up. “Looks like your knights are looking for you.”

Warily turning in the direction of where the voices are coming from, his eyes narrow. “It would seem so.” He hands clench and unclench a few times before he stands. “I should go see what they want…”

“Right… See you later!” You make haste to leave before he can say anything else. You rush past Silver and Sebek on your way out of the garden.

“Your highness?” Silver calls to you, but you’re too busy running away to stop.

Face still warm, you can’t get the image out of your head. The way Malleus looked at you was like he wished to devour you whole. And you wouldn’t have minded.

---

The birthday party is as lavish as you could have imagined. A full orchestra plays music while guests mingle, eat food and dance. As guests arrive, they each approach Malleus to wish him a happy birthday. Presents are left in a different room as they’ll be opened later. Standing beside Malleus, you can feel your mouth aching as you politely smile at everyone that comes over. 

Speaking of the birthday boy, he’s dressed impeccably in black silk accented by silver thread embroidery. His black mask is much like your own except the gems match the color of your eyes. His hair is slicked back though there are still a few stubborn strands that refuse to stay put. You can understand why he’s the love interest with how beautiful he is. Your heart did a weird flip when you saw him before the party.

“Are you alright?” Malleus asks once another guest leaves.

Meeting his gaze, you give a tired nod. “I didn’t realize how strenuous just greeting people can be.” From what you could remember, no one ever approached. You spent most parties trying to melt into the wall. 

His lips turn slightly down in a frown. “You may rest if you wish. I can handle the guests.”

Shaking your head, you chuckle. “I’ll be fine. It seems like there aren’t too many more people coming.”

“If you’re sure…” He trails off as another guest arrives. This time, you recognize the guest as none other than the ruler of the Queendom of Roses, Riddle Rosehearts.

“Happy birthday and thank you for inviting me,” Riddle says, inclining his head in greeting. You admire the vibrant red mask he has. The design incorporates a subtle rose pattern.

Malleus greets him just as politely. “Thank you for coming, Rosehearts. We are both glad you’re able to come.”

With how many times he’s said the same thing, you can repeat everything word for word. “Is Yūki and Grim here?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “They went to the Coral Sea for something. They should be back in a week or so.”

“Oh…” You did want to speak with Yūki a bit more. You wanted to hear more about their adventures.

Riddle pauses as if wanting to say more. He shakes his head. “This is a celebration, so I will not bring up business. But perhaps we can meet again sometime. I’ll be in Briar Valley for a few more days.”

Nodding, you gesture for Diablo, who stands a bit away. His sharp eyes never miss anything. “Diablo, please discuss with his majesty when we can meet.”

“Of course, your grace.” To Riddle, he bows. “Please let me know when you would like to discuss scheduling, your highness.”

The redhead nods. “I’ll have one of my men reach out.” He turns to you with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

As Riddle leaves, Malleus shifts closer to you. “It seems that the agreement with the Queendom is going smoothly.”

“Yes. Riddle Rosehearts is fair but has a firm hand.” He has his eccentricities, but from your conversations, he’s a good ruler. From the rumors you heard while in the Queendom, he’s loosened up a bit from when he first ascended the throne.

“You should come next time we’re invited to the Queendom of Roses,” you continue. “It’s a lovely place and so vibrant.”

“Do you prefer the Queendom to Briar Valley?” Malleus asks. The way he’s looking at you, you can almost hear sad puppy dog whines.

Biting your cheek to keep from laughing, you shake your head. “Of course not. The Queendom is different from Briar Valley. But Briar Valley will always be home because the people I care about are here.” And that’s the truth. You’ve come to like the people in Briar Valley. And though you won’t admit it aloud, you’ve come to like Malleus a lot more.

Before he can say anything else, a voice that sends chills down your spine breaks in. “Happy birthday, our dear son-in-law.” 

Malleus turns to greet your parents as you try to contain your fear. Though you’ve only experienced them through old memories, your body involuntarily stiffens as you try to hide your shaking hands by clasping them behind your back.

“Duke and Duchess Wynters, thank you for coming,” you hear Malleus say. However, his voice becomes muffled as those old memories try to resurface. To outsiders, they look like a sweet older couple.

However, you know the truth. Their eyes are too cold. Their smiles filled with malice. Their hands are covered in your blood and the blood of others. Their hearts are darker than any ink and colder than ice. You force the memories that are trying to surface and adopt a neutral expression. You’re glad for once that you have a good poker face.

When you meet your father’s eyes, you almost forget to breathe. “Dear?” The sickeningly sweet way your mother calls to you fills your mouth with bile.

You managed to force a smile. “Mother, father, I’m glad you could make it.” As much as you didn’t want to, it would look suspicious if they weren’t invited.

“How could we miss our dear son-in-law’s birthday?” she chortles. “And we miss having you home. You haven’t been home at all since you got married. Your father and I are starting to think you don’t want to see us anymore.” She feigns hurt, but you know the truth.

You bow your head slightly. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy with everything that I didn’t realize how much time has passed. I promise to visit soon.”

“You should come too, Malleus,” your father says. “We’d be all too happy to host you for a few days.”

Digging your nails into the palm of your hand, you gently touch Malleus’s arm. “I think I will check in with Diablo,” you murmur.

Malleus nods though there’s worry in his eyes. “Of course. I will see you later.”

“Father, mother, if you’ll excuse me.” You force yourself to walk even though every fiber of your being wants to run.

When you’re out of their line of sight, you head outside to the garden. More guests mingle in the rose garden. Floating lights illuminate the garden making everything seem almost dream-like. Feeling the cool night air on your skin, you let out a big breath. The anxiety is still there, but at least you no longer feel like throwing up.

You didn’t think you’d have such a reaction to meeting the parents. You had memories, so you knew about the vile things they did to their own child. Yet, you had thought since you hadn’t seen them in awhile, things would be fine. But the moment you heard their voices, you lost all control.

Wandering away from the guests, you find a secluded area of the gardens. It’s quiet though the music from inside drifts faintly by. Taking off the mask, you breathe deeply for a bit. If you can avoid them for the rest of the party, you should be fine.

After a few more minutes alone, you decide to return. However as you turn to go back, something catches your eye. In the low light, it looks to be a rope of sorts. You reach down to pick it up but when your hand brushes against the rope, it moves.

You let out a startled gasp as a voice from the bushes grumbles, “You’re either brave or a fool for trying to touch my tail.”

The bushes rustle before a figure sits up. You stare wide eyed at the sleepy-eyed guest. His cat-like ears twitch as he regards you with annoyance. “Are ya gonna just stare at me with that stupid look on your face or apologize?” He glares at you as he pulls himself up and out of the bushes. His mask is nowhere to be seen.

Finding your words, you raise an eyebrow. “Well if you didn’t just leave your tail hanging around, I wouldn’t have mistaken it for something else. Maybe don’t go napping in other people’s bushes,” you bite back.

His eyebrow twitches but you can see the way his emerald green eyes light up. “Heh… you’re a brave one to be speakin’ to me like this.”

Standing up straight, you regard him coolly. “You speak so freely for being one of my husband’s guests, Prince Leona.” 

You remember him now as he came with King Falena of the Sunset Savanna. He barely gave Malleus a glance before stalking off, though his nephew immediately ran after him. You’re pretty sure he didn’t even notice you as he seemed to want to get away as quickly as possible. You had read about Beastmen in the books, but this is your first time meeting them.

Leona was decked out in brightly patterned material that showed off both his lean physique and the wealth of the nation. The deep reds and turquoise complemented the gold mask that hung at his hip.

He scratches his ear nonchalantly. “So, you’re the one married to the lizard. Huh… you’re not what I expected.”

“And what did you expect?” You tilt your head to the side. He has a few leaves still stuck in his hair. Your hand twitches but you resist the urge to remove them.

He smirks. “A weak little herbivore. But it seems you actually have a spine.”

You feel your own eye twitch and his smirk grows wider. “So, what were you doing in the bushes?” you ask, changing the subject before you decide to do something un-royalty like.

Yawning, Leona stretches. “I was trying to take a nap.” He notices you’re staring at him intensely. “What are you looking at?”

Pointing to your head, you gesture around. “You have some leaves stuck in your hair.” He lazily swipes at his head but it does absolutely nothing. “No, you missed! No, no, a little more to the left.”

Grunting, he gives up. “Why do you take them off for me, huh?” He leans closer with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Honestly…” You know you shouldn’t since you’re a queen and all, but the leaves are bothering you. Reaching up, you gently pick the leaves out of his hair. His hair is surprisingly soft to the touch. “Done!”

Looking up, his face is much too close. “Thanks, herbivore.” Your cheeks suddenly feel warm as his gaze doesn’t leave your face. His eyes are hooded as he watched you like you’re some kind of prey.

“…”

“There you are.” Whatever spell Leona had you under breaks as Malleus steps forward. You move away to a more respectable distance from the second prince.

The look on Leona’s face could kill a man. He scowls as Malleus places his hands on your shoulder. “Kingscholar, it’s nice to see you again.”

Leona mutters, “Whatever. I’m heading back inside.” He walks off without another word. Seems he can’t stand being in Malleus’s presence for even a second.

“He left in a hurry,”  Malleus muses.

Taking Malleus’s hand, you ask, “Did you need something?”

“I was just wondering where you wandered off to.” He glances at the direction Leona left. “You seemed to be very close to Kingscholar…”

“I found him napping in the bushes. He had some leaves in his hair, so I was just helping him get them out.” You chuckle when you notice the slight pout on his lips.

“Hmm… I see.” Sometimes he can be quite childish.

Deciding to distract him, you lead him to a back entrance to the palace. “I know it’s early, but I do have a birthday gift I wanted to give you.”

That perks him up. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Of course I have to. And since you weren’t much help in figuring out what to get you, I had to do a lot of thinking.” You lead him to the kitchen, which is empty. “Stay there.” Finding what you’re looking for, you bring over a plate that holds a miniature cake.

He stares at the cake. “...”

Slicing the cake in half, you hand him a fork. “Just try it.”

Malleus hesitantly takes a piece. You watch as his confused expression melts into shock. “Ice cream?!”

Grinning, you nod vigorously. “Yup! It’s an ice cream cake. The pastry chef helped me make it since I’ve never done it before. It took a few tries but we got it eventually. I used some ice magic to keep it from melting.”

He chuckles as he sets his fork down. “You know I don’t like whole cakes, but you played quite a trick on me.”

Taking a bite of your own slice, you’re surprised how tasty it actually is.  “I thought a small one wouldn’t be so bad, and one filled with ice cream sounds even better. You don’t have to eat cake alone, Malleus.” You set the plate down on the table. “You have Lilia and your retainers. You have Diablo and the rest of the staff, who would love to share with you. And you have me.”

Reaching for his hand, you give it a gentle squeeze. He leans forward pressing his forehead against yours. “Thank you for the present. And thank you for being here with me.”

You recall your almost kiss in the gardens two weeks ago. Not quite brave enough, you gently grasp either side of his face. Moving back, you meet his tender gaze. You press a kiss to his forehead; his breath hitches. The scale markings on his forehead are cool to the touch. Pulling away, you watch as the apples of his cheeks slowly turn red. It spreads to his ears as he stands there frozen.

He doesn’t speak and you wonder if you broke him. “Malleus?”

Blinking a few times, the red has faded away. It’s honestly cute how the tips of his ears are still red. “Can I…can I kiss you?” he asks.

Heart thumping in your chest, you nod. No interruption this time.

You move your arms to drape around his shoulders as he grasps the side of your face. Leaning closer, you admire his long lashes. Closing your eyes, you feel his lips brush against your like a whisper. Then a little more firmly. His lips glide against yours in a sweet and hesitant kiss. He smells like magic, old parchment, and ink. He spends so much time working, you’re not surprised the smell has seeped into his very being.

He pulls away all too soon. He stares at you with the same look as in the gardens. He wants to swallow you whole. His hands have drifted to your waist as he hesitates to make another move. 

You’re not quite done with him. “Come here,” you mumble before dragging him back for a better kiss.

You lead him in the kiss. It’s not hesitant as your mouth moves against his. You nibble at his lower lip before giving him a nice, sharp bite. He grunts before you soothe the sting with your tongue. His body shudders. You slip your tongue into his mouth causing his grip on your waist to tighten. Your fingers play the hair at the nape of his neck, twirling the strands around your finger and gently tugging. Your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest as your lungs beg for air.

Finally, you pull away with a gasp. Your face feels hot. He breathes heavily as he holds you flush against his body. Meeting his gaze, his pupils are blown wide. He licks his lips as he regards you. A pleasant shiver runs down your spine when you see his sharp canines glint in the light. You wonder again what it would feel like if he were to bite you.

He leans close again. “Can I have another?” he asks in a hoarse whisper. You’re all too eager to agree.

---

The party goes on long into the early mornings. After your alone time with Malleus, you both returned hand-in-hand. Thankfully it seems the guests are all too tipsy to even notice the birthday boy had disappeared. Only Sebek, Silver and Lilia notice. The green haired half-fae frets over where his master went. Lilia has a devilish smile on his lips while he gives you both a knowing look.

Malleus bids the guests goodnight, though the party continues. You’re about to follow when your parents stop you. Your grip on Malleus’s hand tightens for a second, but you quickly try to relax. 

You smile as sweetly as possible. “Is there something you need?”

Duke Wynter picks off invisible lint on his jacket. “Your mother and I have something to discuss with you, dear.”

Glancing over at Malleus, you want to tell them to fuck off. However, you know you can’t. “Diablo, can you bring my parents to my study?”

“Of course, your majesty.” 

As he leads them away, you turn to Malleus. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.” He leans forward and kisses your forehead. Your face grows warm at the gesture. His eyes sparkle as he smiles, amused. “Goodnight.’’

Letting out a deep sigh, you head to your study. Diablo is there waiting at the door. “You may leave, Diablo.”

“Your grace…?”

“You don’t have to stay. I’m just having a chat with my parents.” You offer a too bright smile.

The old butler hesitates before giving a bow. “As you wish. Goodnight, your highness.”

Stepping into the study, you close the doors. Your parents are busy looking around. Walking over, you square your shoulders. “What did you want to talk about?”

Your body tenses before your brain can process the pain. 

SMACK!

Your mask flies off and clatters to the ground. The force of the backhanded slap causes your ears to ring. The left side of your cheek throbs painfully and a metallic taste fills your mouth. You stare at the ground blankly.

“You idiot!” your father hisses. “What did you tell the king!?”

You count backwards in your head from five before answering, still keeping your eyes on the ground, “I don’t know what you mean, father.”

He scoffs. “The war with the Queendom of Roses! We were supposed to have a war with them!”

You had almost forgotten about that. “I thought that making a deal for resources would be more beneficial. The land would have been otherwise destroyed beyond repair if a war broke out. It would be useless to you, father.”

The man paces back and forth. “We could’ve expanded our territory…”

Your mother’s shoes come into view. She grabs your face, tilting your head up so she can stare into your eyes. She squeezes your cheeks together and digs her nails into your skin. Your cheek hurts even more. “Oh, our silly, dumb child,” she tuts, clicking her tongue. “You don’t need to think. Just do what we have instructed and leave the rest to us.”

Her cold, sharp eyes gaze at you with disgust. She releases her hold. “Come, dear, no need to be agitated. We can always start a war after everything is complete.”

Your father stops pacing and sighs. “You're right.” He glares at you. “Stick to the plan,” he orders. You recoil when his hand raises, but by some miracle he decides not to hit you again.

The two brush past you. “Make you sure you heal that unsightly face,” your mother calls. “We don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression, do we?”

The door to the study opens and then closes with a thud. Staring at the wall, you fall to your knees. Hand resting lightly on your cheek, you run on autopilot as you heal it. There are many memories of something similar to this happening. And each time you’re left to tend to yourself.

You can’t tell Malleus. Not yet. If you reveal your parents’ plans, they’ll make sure to bring you down with them. You’re not sure how Malleus would react if he finds out you were trying to control him. Anyone in their right mind would be upset if they found out the truth. He might be understanding, but you’re pretty sure Lilia and the others wouldn’t be.

And there’s still the issue of the weapon. In the story, your parents find a dagger that can kill anyone, including a being as strong as Malleus. Yūki is able to get their hands on the dagger before it can be used. Yet, the story never explains where or how your parents got this magical dagger. It also glossed over how Yūki was able to get it. You need to find out.

So even as your body shakes, you’re determined to take them down.

Tag list: @candlewitch-cryptic, @whatstheoccasion, @nimko, @yo4sblog, @mc-cos-charm, @mochiclouds, @41sh4

[potato-lord-but-not]

my lord, apologies if this is intrusive. i inquire of you... how did you meet your girlfriend, blorbo of all blorbos, biggest blorbo to every blorb?

the technically correct answer would be church but I’ll go with book club hosted by our local homeschool group

[eomma-jpeg]

bc i might have been motivated by comments on twitter and my own hubris... here is part 2 of the post trimax vashmeryl baby au

part 1

Snorting into wakefulness, Vash’s hands tightened, immediately feeling for the baby. He was relieved when he felt her familiar weight on his chest, his tense frame relaxing back into the plush couch. Falling asleep was not something he had intended to do, but ever since crossing that threshold the night before he had felt an uncommon reprieve from the title of ‘outlaw’. Perhaps it was because he was under the protection of Meryl Stryfe.

Meryl.

Sitting upright and clutching his daughter to his chest, Vash turned his head around the room, seeking for any sign of his friend, but he was only met with the dim light of the early morning. It laid in little dots on the wall and countertops, the single sun peeking in through the blinds. 

“Meryl?” Vash called, but the sound only summoned his daughter’s whining, her face buried in his chest for a bit too long. Pulling her into a more comfortable position, Vash said, “Sorry, little one, but it seems we have lost our host.”

Venturing through the small apartment, Vash was unable to find any signs of human life. The insurance agent had seemingly disappeared into thin air. He suddenly felt a wave of anxiety.

Why did she leave? Where could she have gone? It was still so early in the morning. Far too early for work or any other proper errands. Did she leave to go get camera equipment? This would be the perfect opportunity to catch him while he was down, unable to run from an interview. Maybe she wanted to exploit the baby for views.

Vash shook off those intrusive thoughts, feeling guilty for allowing himself to think of Meryl in such a way. Despite the fact he knew they had moved on from insurance to video journalism, he had a strong feeling that Meryl (and Milly) weren’t likely to expose him during his lowest points. Although, he wouldn’t consider the small child in his arms one of his lowest points. 

Deciding to have faith in the woman and squash his fears, Vash shifted the baby in his arms and began scavenging for something to eat. He'd just repay Meryl (somehow) for the food, so she shouldn’t mind if he ate the veggies in her fridge that looked like they were about to go bad. He also found a can of generic chili, excited to eat something spiced with his various dry vegetables. 

The babe squirmed, her chubby arms freed from her swaddling and waving about. Vash set his breakfast down to try and stick her arms back in, but she had a discontented look on her face, frowning ever so slightly at him with pouting lips and round knowing eyes. He wondered if he had once looked like her. 

Vash quickly swallowed the strange hot bile that rose anytime he thought about how much he and this little girl must resemble each other, seeing as she would almost certainly only contain his genetic makeup. And that meant she contained the same makeup as Knives. He swallowed again at that thought, focusing more intently on his scrappy meal and less on thinking.

Lucky for Vash, he was exhausted even after his short descent into sleep. He didn’t have much room for thinking or reminiscing (not that there was much to reminisce on). Instead, he let his skilled hands do the work of carrying a child and pulling flowerettes of broccoli from the head. He plopped them into a pot, intent on filling it with water and boiling the green vegetable. He’d apologize to Meryl about the smell later.

Letting the veggies boil, Vash searched for another pan, hearing the creak of the cabinet door and the front door. It took far too long for the signals to reach Vash’s brain, likely getting stuck in that hot goopy emotions he had swallowed earlier.

“Good Morning, Ma’am! I brought some breakfast. Just some poppyseed muffins I-”

Vash turned just in time to see Milly freeze, one hand on the door knob, the other holding a plate of fluffy muffins. Her jaw hung open, but she didn’t wait long before sliding the muffins onto the couch and rushing forward.

“Mr. Vash! It’s been ages since I’ve truly been able to talk to you! I had hoped you would-”

Milly froze once again, this time just shy of wrapping Vash in a tight bear hug. Vash’s face was scrunched up in apprehension as he pulled his limbs in and clutched his baby to his center.

Surprise turned to awe and then to excitement as Milly ran through her spectrum of emotions. Then, far too loud for a man who had only slept three hours in the last week, Milly shrieked, “A baby! Is that a baby?! I love babies!”

Waving a long finger in her face, Milly made little cooing noises while the baby looked back, a bit unimpressed. That was to be expected, seeing as she was only three days old; appeasing others was not yet on her to do list.

Milly’s smile was quite lovely to see this early in the morning, adding to the brightness of the rising suns. Her eyes flicked over to his, “What a lovely little baby. He or…”

“She,” informed Vash, his voice rough.

“Well, she’s adorable. What’s her name?”

Taking in a deep breath, Vash realized he hadn’t said the name aloud yet.

“Tesla.”

That vivid smile of hers continued to keep his spirits up, “That’s so pretty! I’ve never heard a name like that before.” Milly waggled her finger again and Tesla nearly caught it with her own chubby fist that had once again broken free, “She has such pretty eyes, just like… well, just like yours,” she said matter of factly. Then, standing to her full height, Milly looked at him curiously, “Where.... Vash, where did you get a baby?"

Speaking frankly, Vash said, “She’s mine.”

Eyebrows raising, Milly said, “So I was right: she does have your eyes. But when did you get Meryl pregnant?”

Vash felt his heart stop

Milly barreled forward, “And how did she hide it from me? She’s so small and would have such a hard time keeping it a secret, unless it was cryptic. My mom told me that she had a cryptic pregnancy with my little big brother, but they’re so rare. Was it during Octovern? The time frame would make sense but I didn’t think we had any alone time to-”

Vash was reeling from Milly’s ramblings and assumptions, “Milly!” he said, interrupting with a bit too much force that was certainly influenced by his overwhelming embarrassment, “She is not Meryl’s!”

Cocking her head, Milly let out an awkward laugh, “Well then, whose is she?”

Looking down at Tesla, Vash’s tense brow relaxed, “She’s just… mine.”

Milly gave him one last skeptical look before accepting his vague answer, likely accustomed to his aversion techniques, “I’ll get the answer out of you eventually, but for now it honestly looks like you need breakfast and a nap.”

“I just woke up.”

“And yet,” Milly said, which was only the beginning of a sentence, but it clearly described her opinion of his situation, “Why don’t you take a seat and eat a muffin.”

Vash graciously took one, biting down and enjoying the fluffy texture immensely. His last month had consisted of dry rations and the rare drink he could afford at the even more rare saloon, but as of the last few days Vash hadn’t eaten anything.

He took three more muffins.

“I’m glad you like them,” said Milly from the kitchen where she adopted Vash’s mismatched set of ingredients, “I added just a hint of lemon to them. I’ve had too many overpowering lemon muffins in my time.”

Vash just took another bite while she spoke. Tesla wiggled slightly when a crumb fell on her face. He wiped it away.

“It seems you have the makings for a pretty good omelet,” Milly noted as she rolled an onion in her hand, “But I don’t see why you’re boiling broccoli.”

“It was going bad,” Vash said through a mouthful of muffin, “Figured I should use it before Meryl gets upset that it's rotting in her fridge.

Milly slid a cutting board out from one of Meryl’s few drawers. The kitchen was certainly compact– a characteristic of many December apartments if Vash’s experience was to be trusted– but it held a vast and valuable collection, “I thought as much, but it doesn’t pair well with your other items,” she turned to him, “I assume you were just trying to get in as many calories as possible?”

Milly Thompson: always able to see though to the very core.

Pulling off the wrapping on the final muffin (which was extremely hard to do with one hand) Vash answered, “Seems like you already know the answer to that one, Milly.”

She just put on that wide, knowing grin, “Then broccoli and eggs and muffins sounds like a perfectly balanced breakfast to me.”

It might not be in terms of flavors, but it definitely packed a significant amount of nutrients for one plant. And for Meryl, if she ever reappeared. 

As if reading his mind, Milly asked while cracking the remainder of the eggs into a bowl, “Is Meryl here?”

He let out an exhale, a bit strained, “No. I haven’t seen her since I got here last night.”

“She didn’t call me when you got here.”

“I guess I should say when I got here this morning.”

“Ah,” she said in understanding, pouring the recently whipped eggs into a ripping cast iron, “Well, she’ll turn up eventually. Especially since we walk to work together in the next hour.”

Vash hoped he could stay awake long enough to see her return.

[azure-firecracker]

Unbroken

An excerpt from Chapter 4 of Raise Your Voices that I’m particularly fond of. Some context may be missing but not enough to affect the crux of the story.

This takes place somewhere between Irresistible and Colony.

Summary: A night staying with a host family while working undercover opens some of Mulder’s old wounds.

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 1,653

TW/CW: Flashbacks

Tagging @today-in-fic

“Where are you from, again?” Mulder asked Dmitri on the car ride back to Derek and Sandra’s house. The couple seemed pleasant enough, but neither were the intrusive type, which meant that it was up to Mulder to keep the conversation going.

Dmitri rolled his eyes. “I have said before. I am from Belarus.”

“What brings you here?”

Dmitri scowled at him. “I am trying to study music. Is harder to do in Belarus.”

Mulder wanted to ask more questions, but could tell they wouldn’t be well received, so he allowed the car to lapse back into silence for the rest of the drive.

“Don’t mind Dmitri,” Sandra murmured to him as they unpacked the car, about half an hour later. “He gets those same questions a lot, as you might imagine. It can be a bit frustrating.” That’s fair.

“I promise I meant no offense. I’m just a curious type.” Though maybe Mitchell the maple farmer wasn’t. Careful.

“When Dmitri first got here, we were, too,” chimed in Derek as he walked out to help. “We wanted to know everything about his past. But the more time we spent with him, the more we realized just how alienating our questions were. To him, it must have felt more like an interrogation than anything else.”

The voices hit Mulder so suddenly that he almost dropped the bag of groceries he was holding.

What happened, Fox?

Why didn’t you call us?

Why didn’t you help her?

Where is she?

It was nothing he hadn’t flashed back to a thousand times before, but somehow it got to him every time. You’re undercover. Stay here.

He nodded as Derek opened the door and they walked into the kitchen. “That makes complete sense.” God, the feeling of being interrogated with the same questions over and over again. He knew it all too well.

You know why you’ve been admitted, right?

We’re just going to ask you some simple questions.

No, you can’t leave yet. You aren’t better.

Why aren’t you better?

Dammit, Mulder, stay here.

“Are you alright?” asked Sandra, breaking through the haze. He forced himself to nod.

“So, how do you know Dmitri? Are you related?”

Derek shook his head. “Dmitri placed an ad in the paper when he got here seeing if anyone would rent out a room. Our kids were long gone, and things were getting a little quiet in our old age,” he and Sandra both chuckled, “so we said yes.”

“So you’re his landlords?” Awfully protective for landlords.

Derek and Sandra exchanged a glance. “It started out that way,” said Sandra, “but Dmitri really became part of this house.”

Derek smiled. “He seemed quite lonely when he got here. Understandable, of course, but it was hard for us to see, so…”

Sandra interrupted, “We made sure to let him know that he belonged here.”

Derek nodded. “He’s family now.”

The whole thing was a little too saccharine for Mulder’s taste, however lovely it might be. “He’s family now.” As if it were that easy to just have a family. As if it were that easy even to keep the family you were born with, to not let them down. As if it were that easy to deserve love.

The room started to spin.

How could you just let them take her?

What do you mean the doctors haven’t fixed you yet?

We’re splitting up. There’s nothing keeping us together anymore.

Your mother’s already lost one child. Make sure you don’t break her heart again.

Stop calling me. I don’t have time for this.

They say they’ve found her.

They’re always wrong.

Why didn’t you do more?

This is your fault. It’s all your fault.

Mulder barely managed to force out an apology mixed with an excuse about not feeling well before he was stumbling up the stairs, his body overtaken by sensations from the past, old words mixing with his thoughts, his memories, and his guilt.

This family had extended their deepest love to a complete stranger. It was so easy, so simple, yet Mulder had still failed to deserve the same sentiments from those who were supposed to provide them to him without question. Even now, he was still trying to make up for everything he’d ruined. Most days, it was all he wished for. But even if he did find Samantha, he knew it would never be enough. Love wasn’t feasible for him, not in the way it was for Dmitri or anyone in the Green Mountain Singers or the rest of the world. It was a fact that Mulder was used to carrying with him, but sometimes it shattered him nonetheless.

Sitting in a stranger’s house, curled up against the bedroom door, Mulder was a lonely child all over again, wishing and waiting for his parents to arrive and tell him everything was going to be alright, burdened with the knowledge that they never would. He felt as he had in the child psychiatric ward: ruined and alone and afraid. He needed to come back to the present. He needed to feel safe, to feel cared for, to feel alright.

It was against protocol, but he picked up the phone and dialed the one person who made him feel like he wasn’t broken.

“Hello?”

“Scully, it’s me.”

“Mulder,” she whispered over the phone, “we’re not supposed to call each other. You know that.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, trying (and failing) to keep his voice from breaking. “I just…” I needed to hear your voice. You’re the one person who can keep me grounded.

“Mulder,” her voice was much gentler now, “what’s wrong?”

How do I even begin to explain this? “Can you just…can you stay on the phone for a while? Can we talk about nothing?” Bring me back. You’re the only one who ever could.

“Sure, Mulder,” she quipped. “Tonight I spent three hours singing Eastern European folk songs and making potato and cheese casserole.”

“There’s a combination of words I never thought I’d hear from you.”

“You know, Mulder, these people are definitely…strange,” she observed, “but there’s a certain charm to them. Their unconditional support for one another is rather admirable.” He had to stop himself from letting out a bitter laugh. Support is never unconditional. Not really. He gripped the phone tighter, wishing Scully was really there for him to hold onto. Support is never unconditional. But sometimes I can believe that hers is, even just for a second. She was unique to him, in that way and in so many others.

“I get what you mean,” he replied. “The couple I’m staying with basically adopted this kid Dmitri, just because they wanted to, and…” He stopped, not wanting to burden her with his pain while she was already miserable on this assignment. It was too late. He could almost hear her put two and two together over the phone. Though the human mind was his area of expertise, his mind fell within hers. She knew what set him off, and he often caught her trying to protect him from those triggers when she thought he wouldn’t notice. She was naïve in that particular regard. Care was such a rarity in his life that he never failed to perceive it when it graced him.

“Adoption is a wonderful thing,” she said. “Some parents are very compassionate. Some less so. Studies show that the levels of compassion have very little to do with the child.” He knew why she was sharing those particular statistics. It didn’t help, but the fact that she was trying spoke volumes.

“Have your statistics accounted for outliers?”

“Not from Martha’s Vineyard.” Her directness caught him off guard, but of course she’d figured him out. She was too clever not to.

“Scully, I…”

“Mulder, I haven’t met your family, but whatever they made you believe, it isn’t true.” They didn’t make me believe it. It’s the Truth.

“My family did the best they could, Scully. It’s not their fault they didn’t have the mental capacity to raise a kid after what happened. I mean, who would?”

A pause. “It’s just…it’s not productive to blame yourself, Mulder. You were too young.” You don’t blame me. You’re the only one who doesn’t blame me. Why?

“It’s alright,” he replied. It isn’t, not really, but it’s better now that you’re here. Everything’s easier with you here. “I’ve accepted that. It’s just…” he sighed, “sometimes places like this get to me.” They make me wish I had a home to go back to. A real home. A home that feels like autumn sweaters and hot apple cider and warm hugs. A home that isn’t broken. This was the one thing about him that Scully would never understand. She had a home, and always would.

“Well,” she answered after a moment, “it’s no community choir. But you’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere.” Her words held extra weight after all she’d been through lately.

He thought of days spent in dark basements crouched over files, of long road trips and meaningless back-and-forth chatter, of running into the dark together, of him being pushed to his limit in her name, standing over a hospital bed or wrapping his arms around her at the base of a darkened stairwell. He thought of her going to the ends of the Earth for his sake in Idaho, Washington, Puerto Rico, California, and everywhere in between. He thought of running after the Truth and her running after him, no matter how many times he showed her that he didn’t deserve it.

Maybe he had a home after all.

“I know.” And how lucky I am.

Another pause.

“It’s getting late. We should get some sleep. Especially you. You have band rehearsal in the morning.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groaned. “And Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“You can call me again if you need to.”

He smiled. “Same to you.”

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

“Goodnight, Scully.”

[system-of-a-feather]

Honestly, the thing about DID that I've come to find as a part that did an absurd amount of work during the "survival era" - literally playing caretaker, soother, primary protector, makeshift-gatekeeper, relationship mediator, and academic protector when our polyfragmented system was more or less shut down to a system of 2 with wild intrusions - and having carried us to keep a good grade during all the crisises that happened in our undergrad as we started DID-centered therapy - is that the difficulty of life with DID is honestly just very very front loaded but in turn relatively "easy" if / when you manage to survive that front loaded opening.

This isn't to say "DID makes your life easier when you get past the sheer survival phase and get to a place of stability" but more so that the sheer amount of skill and difficulty you've had to survive and grow accustomed to in order to GET to stability makes almost everything look like a bit of a joke.

It is very hard to get through that period, it is extremely painful and honestly, the unfortunate thing is that it is fatal to some - but by the time you come out on the other end.... it's almost honestly boring before it becomes peaceful with just how pathetically simple "huge stressors" are in comparison.

I've carried 500 roles all on once while trying to keep intruding parts' messes limited back when we really had to go into our denial phase of DID in late high school. I kept our grades up during active multi-level abuse and codependent friendships and so many massive crisises. I got us academically through our bachelors degree and the first 5+ years of therapy AND Covid. I've gotten up the next morning after a flight and two or three breakdowns and took an organic chemistry final and did plenty of well.

Am I genuinely supposed to be worried about a simple GRE test with only a few days notice? Of course that should be stressful, of course that should bother me, most people it should - but honestly? Compared to the absurd feats I've done in the name of survival both for myself and the system, and the absurd feats I've done in the name of flourishing - its honestly a cake walk.

At this point, as a part, very little compares to the hardest periods of our life and honestly, it both kind of leaves me under fulfilled as a part that really likes projects and working on things. It's a large reason why I've taken a lot more fun and fulfillment in watching the "kids" grow and learn things on their own and serving as an advisor / mentor when they really find themselves stuck.

My confidence and security in handling these sorts of things used to actually depress me as we got into a better life, but honestly, it's a lot more fun sitting back and being the parent to the hosts and "new generation" of parts because its both more interesting and it's honestly just really fulfilling to be able to be that safe and secure base for ourselves that we never had. And I am not meaning in the sense of a protector and caregiver - that is too over bearing and obligatory. I more so just mean like a genuine parent to fledgling birds.

The diligence and long run game of watching them flail around a bit sillily as they figure out how to fly on their own. Keeping them safe but not so much that they never learn to fend for their own. I don't know, call me old, I'm retired in this brain for the most part, but its something I really enjoy honestly.

Any how, I apologize some for the amount of times I say "honestly" and the overall formal speech, I used to joke about it being my "speech impediment" because I can't help it - but Riku and co recently found out that is ACTUALLY a speech impediment common with autism called "stilted speech" so I guess.... it unironically is my speech impediment. (/half serious /lh)

[anitravance]

Week 5: One Blog Post

In his article "Advertising is the Internet's Original Sin," published in The Atlantic, Ethan Zuckerman, one of the creators of the first pop-up ad, offers a profound apology for the creation of this intrusive form of advertising. He acknowledges the negative impact it has had on the internet, leading to a host of problems, including privacy concerns, the spread of misinformation, and the creation of an environment where users are the product. Zuckerman's argument is that the internet's reliance on advertising as a primary source of revenue has been detrimental to its development and user experience.

This perspective is further echoed in Maciej Ceglowski's discusses how internet business models influence surveillance and data coming together on the internet. The current ad-supported model of the internet has led to an unprecedented level of surveillance, as companies gather vast amounts of data on users to target ads more effectively. This model has not only invaded our privacy but also created a fertile ground for the spread of misinformation, as content that generates clicks and views is prioritized, regardless of its veracity.

Zuckerman suggests that the internet needs to move away from an ad-supported model and explore other revenue models, such as subscription services or user data control. This shift could potentially reduce the level of surveillance and data gathering, as companies would no longer need to collect extensive user data to generate revenue. However, this transition would require a significant change in how we perceive and use the internet. Users would need to be willing to pay for services they currently receive for free, and companies would need to find new ways to generate revenue without exploiting user data.

In conclusion, the current business models of the internet have a significant influence on surveillance and data gathering. The ad-supported model has led to an invasion of privacy and the spread of misinformation, as companies prioritize revenue over user experience and ethical considerations. As Zuckerman suggests, a shift towards more ethical business models, such as subscription services or user data control, could help mitigate these issues. However, this transition would require a significant change in user and company behavior.

[paradisecursed]

from the darkened alcoves of the emperor's castle, a pair of eyes watches the tailend of a conversation between men. with darcia left alone, the apparition can't help but grin from his hiding spot—he picked the best hiding spot in the whole room, he's sure of it—though the need to be noticed lets a snicker trickle out into the air, warbled through dimensions. there they are...!

@collectalong / mild plotting.

You… wish for me to come with you? He’d asked.

Well, it’d certainly be easier, the emperor had replied. The equipment I’d need can’t be brought through the portal quite like my books or tools can. My castle has plenty of supplies. Perhaps there’d be a suitable room where we could move her to. I think - 

He’d interrupted with a snap of bared teeth, My alchemy is the only thing keeping her body alive, we can’t just -

His companion raised a hand, as if to calm an agitated dog. That’s precisely why I’d like you to come with me. See what the Boiling Isles has to offer &. see if a new perspective brings us progress.

It was enough to get him to lower his hackles. An exhale through the nose; a glance back to the hall they’d come from. Neige could watch her, he supposed. 

The emperor offered a soft, gentle hum; a sound that he came to understand as kindness. The other man turned away, then, before remarking - 

Besides, it’d do good for our deal if you had some context to the sort of world you’re giving your weapons away to. 

----

Dark were the halls of his benefactor’s domain, yet not quite tenebrous as his own. These walls were built closer together so that the flickering candlelight might catch the reflection of their gold-plated surfaces &. dance in luminous shapes as they walked. Their footsteps echoed; closer now than in his foyer. The scent of earth &. plant followed in their wake.

It reminded him of the garden, he’d thought. Back before the flowers wilted in mourning her. 

The emperor had shooed his young shadow off on some errand, leaving the pair alone as they wandered a maze of statuesque guards and grandiose decor. There were windows, of course, but they remained shuttered. Their conversation, however, stuck dutifully to its path: a series of contextual questions proposed to his host, wherein he’d be answered in kind &. asked of his own. Do you think we could construct those lasers with that? Could we use this to substitute for oil in your ships, perhaps?  

&. he was content to theorize &. speculate; until the smell of wet, fertile ground stopped him short. He turned away, slowly, from his companion - facing then two wooden shutters hiding a window’s view. ‘Twas the strongest the aroma had ever been. There was a fracture in the bottom of the left-side panel, &. he found himself drawn to the small stream of rose-yellow sunlight that filtered through. His footsteps fell quiet in his own ears as he crossed the distance, hand straying from his side to reach out - 

A gloved hand caught him by the shoulder - squeezing. 

Oh, come now, there’s nothing to see out there. The emperor tutted as he gently - yet firmly - guided the lord Darcia away.  Just another wasteland at this point, I’m afraid. Now then, about your ship…

The hand left his shoulder quickly, &. disappeared beneath the emperor’s white robes. 

Their walk continued without incident - at least for a time. Then, without warning, the halls filled with the sound of shrieking. 

A form barrelled out of the darkness towards them. His hackles raised immediately; only to be quelled as the emperor threw out a reassuring arm. The stranger dug its heels in the rug, careenging to a sudden, silent stop. The beginnings of an apology began to tumble out from somewhere beneath a pile of robes, only to trail off as one wide, glimmering eye caught his sight.

The lord Darcia found himself bewildered by this intrusion. She was some shrill, small, red, frog-like thing; glaring at him with a sort of unease that he found almost comforting in its familiarity. Never-the-less, she was quick to shake off her apparent apprehension - instead ignoring his presence completely to bawk a plea to his host. Even with the emperor’s diligent explanations, most of her words utterly mystified him. All Darcia could gather was that it sounded important. Now quite out-of-place, he found himself looking towards the nearest window; this one possessing a far larger crack than the last.

Finally, his companion sighed, pinching the nose of his mask before excusing himself from their conversation.

Do stay here, the request had been, It’s easy to get lost. I won’t be long.

&. so, ever the mannered guest, he waited. 

But human minds were meant to wander, &. ‘not long’ slowly ticked over to long enough for his eye to trace the wisps of mist dancing in the light from the crack in the windowsill. Enough time had passed for the ray of sun to change from rose-gold to syrupy auburn, &. when he leaned over to let his fingers pass through he felt the tickle of a humid breeze even through his gloved finger-tips. The scent of earth was stronger now than it's ever been. It smelt warm &. alive &. like when he would bury his face into the crook of her neck, cradled in the embrace of her waterfall of hair. He heard something flutter, &. as he flinched away the sun was briefly blacked out by a form passing by the window.

His father was an inquisitive man, as was his grandfather before him. Their work was the questions ‘why’, &. the eyepatch he bore now was the punishment for their asking. Darcia walked to the window.

He slowly reached out a hand - hesitated for but a moment - &. pushed open the shutters.

What he witnessed froze him to the windowsill.

A blinding flash of sunlight gave way to a vibrant, fablesque landscape not quite unlike his grandfather’s writings. Warm wind combed his hair, filling his lungs with clean air that tasted of young wood &. detritus rather than ice & smog. He practically gagged on it; the sight stealing his breath as much as giving it. The crimson-golden sun was enshrined by pale pink clouds, &. he watched the tiny forms of what he realized to be animals fly in its light. Mighty, ribbed mountain peaks reached up from either side of the horizon, vying for the sun’s attention. Even from here, he could see glorious, prospering cities carved into their ridges. 

They cradled deserts &. shores &. forests &. even many more towns between them. Darcia felt the press of the windowsill against his stomach, urging him against leaning out too far. But he was straining to listen - he could swear that on the breeze he could hear songs. Melodic whistling, unconcerned with rhythm but composed of patterns that made him recall a book on long-dead birds. The rustling hiss of leaves, crashing against each-other to form a rolling percussion to the melody. &. he swore - he just swore he could make out voices; hundreds of them. He could not make out what they were saying, only that he was certain they were happy. 

&. the trees - oh, the trees! Even from up here did their boughs look as if they might break beneath the weight of their verdure. How long, he wondered? How many summers had passed wherein not a single blade of grass grew in his garden? Here, a minute was more than enough to make recollections of home feel more akin to the remnants of bad dreams than memories.

Why the emperor wished him to look away, he couldn’t fathom. It was such a beautiful view. 

It was so alive.

-- A child’s laughter was what, at last, broke the spell of awe cast upon him.

&. it struck him then, how peculiar that was - he hadn’t seen any children wandering these gilded halls. None but the emperor’s ward, &. it certainly couldn’t’ve been him. They’d spoken little, yet he couldn’t for the life of him imagine the boy so much as daring to disobey his uncle. Another nephew, then? Perhaps a son of his own? The emperor hadn’t suggested a wife or heir when he’d inquired about the young attendant (Hunter was his name, he remembers.), but then again the Lord Darcia’s companion seemed a dedicated man; more interested in the work to be done than entertaining curiosities regarding lineage. 

For that, he was grateful.

Yet it left him now in a precarious position. Unprepared &. stupefied; for children seldom sought the wolf king as a playmate. Fewer men dared to have heirs these days, &. those that did warned their young of his wickedness well before they grew old enough to want to approach him. Hunter had curried his favor by refusing to shy away, if only by nervously sticking to his uncle’s side &. minding to not look the lord Darcia in the eye. That suited him fine. It was enough for him to grow fond of the boy. He wished he’d talk more. 

Perhaps he’d have known what the laughter was for. 

Alas, the wolf king was left to puzzle this conundrum himself. His eye darted about, searching for a source, yet no child revealed themselves. There was only him, his shadow, &. the sun. 

A game, then? 

Before him, shrouded in the darkness of his silhouette, was a step-stool. A simple piece of furniture; a dark, scarlet-tinged wood carved into four legs bearing leaf-like designs. Its soft cotton cushion was lined in expensive white silks &. intricate gold-thread patterning. Even in his shadow, it sparkled. Fitting for the emperor.

At some point, he’d crossed the hallway. He found himself looming over the curious seat, quietly staring it down as echoes of laughter reverberated in his ears. Leaning down, his leather gloves crackled as he grabbed it slowly - firmly - by the sides, &. with all the stiff formality of a man of his class, so out of his depth, he lifted the stool up &. held it above him.

Bathed in golden sun, the lord Darcia - third of his name, king of a crumbling tower in the middle of the sea, overseeing a dying land in a dead world - stood, awkwardly holding a step-stool.

Leather crinkled as he - unnecessarily so, as if making a show - leaned to the side, trying to get a better look of the space beneath where the stool once was. He was awarded nothing but the sound of distant bird-song. 

The stool was put back in place with utmost care, minding to not make noise as he kept his ear piqued for any response.

[knightotoc]

So the final ep of Rings of Power came out yesterday, and I binged the whole season with my dad. Kind of a rough show to watch with him, since it's all about mean dads! How far this story has gone since Tolkien wrote it for his kids.

I went into it with low expectations, but it ended up disappointing me in compelling ways. Like Star Trek movies, the even-numbered episodes are better than the odd-numbered ones. Late-game reveals retroactively add some thrill, but can't go back in time to erase the initial tedium. The show has the same structural and characterizational flaws as last decade's LotR spinoff, the Hobbit trilogy: unrestrained emptiness in both showtime and our hero's brains. These goodguys are stupid, and their writers have even less respect for the audience.

But stupidity, while an unexpected legacy for the world's most overthought fictional setting, is not a killing blow to it. We've always had Pippin, after all. The thing that hurts, the thing that makes RoP unique, is indifference. These characters, with a handful of important exceptions, do not love each other. They certainly don't hate each other. They just don't care. In the first scene children destroy each other's toys, and nobody really grows out of that pointlessly selfish mindset.

Fight choreography is self-centered and nasty. Shot composition is lonely. Nobody talks to each other with the goal of actually communicating; they speak in dramatic pauses, anecdotes, twists and turns. At one point, a blind woman asks what has happened, and no one answers her. Her father died. Everyone else is too far inside their own feelings to tell the person for whom that matters most.

The leadership and general population of the elves, dwarves, and humans are bigoted isolationists. The villains, a host of orcs who wear cool skulls on their heads like Cubone, display far more fellowship and joie de vivre than any group we're supposed to like. They even call their leader Dad, and, by this show's standards, he's above-average at that role.

But the most shocking intrusion of indifference is with the horrible nomadic harfoots. You know how ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten? I don't think they know about ohana, Pip. These cultish hobbit-knockoffs condemn anyone who misbehaves, and their family, to the back of the group when they migrate. If not for some supernatural help, our plucky heroine would apparently have gotten picked off in the night by the cruel forces of nature. If the hobbits had been anything like the harfoots, the only logical message of the original story would have been "Fuck the Shire."

But I said there were important exceptions. Of the multiple subplots, at least two revolve around genuine affection, and at least one of those is actually cool and fun. Firstly, there is the grand romance of sexy elf Arondir and lovely human Bronwyn, original characters who have to drag around his lazy coworkers, her stupid neighbors, and a cute kid.

Secondly, there is the rekindled friendship of conflicted dwarf prince Durin and ambitious half-elf Elrond...who is not only my favorite character in LotR but one of my favorite characters in anything, so I am happy to report that he slays in this one. And in the end, for me, that's all that really matters.

Durin and Elrond's friendship is not only beautiful on its own, but it shines all the brighter among the cynicism and apathy that characterizes the rest of this show. After some genuinely great shenanigans, Elrond starts to give Durin a literal elevator pitch about some bullshit. Suddenly, Durin tearfully confronts Elrond with the fact that, though they used to be friends, Elrond missed Durin's wedding and the birth of two of his children. Elrond is taken aback -- after all, twenty years is much shorter for an elf than any other being. He apologizes. They hang out. They take a vow on the mountain. They defend each other to their shitty kings, at the risk of their own futures. Durin almost tells Elrond his true name, and Elrond's like, "Save it for Heaven." They cry because they wuv each other so much. It fucking rules. Eat your hearts out, Legolas and Gimli.

Unfortunately Elrond's not a dad yet -- he's a little baby who looks like a combination of Hermey and MatPat (pictured) -- so the proportion of bad dads to good dads remains overwhelmingly poor. The only actually good one was the one who sat next to me while we endured this terrible production.

[gonemechaniic]

Things going on with me kinda in regards to my absence here and on the socials in general; aka I'm just venting.

Tl;dr: we're "going through it" fam ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's just the season where I emotionally hibernate a bit. Idk what it is, but it’s the time of the year where my brain likes to remind me how horrible of a person I am cause I can't visit family or supply those I care about with my presence or a present. Naturally this plays so well with my social anxiety to the point where I want to engage but I don't think I'm worthy of anyone's time. I know it's bs. I know it’s some synapses of my mind that occasionally fuk with me but,??? Emotions, ya know :|

In regards to writing here... well across all my blogs really, it's like all of those intrusive thoughts I've managed to ignore throughout the year seem to pile up with some good 'ol imposture syndrome and nothing looks good enough. I mean I'm still writing or jotting things down but when it come to actually getting to post it, I second guess myself or I don't want it to seem like I'm only enthusiastic replying to one person or given the time I'm worried that no one's interested anymore, etc. I know it's not "that deep" and I still have fun writing but that's where I am atm. :\

It's also the first time for conventions and events in the Tokyo area for like 2-3 years, and given this might be our last year here, we're trying to do all the things we can before the tourists clog everything up again. -_-

So I'm prepping for Tokyo Comic Con with my friend; going as Chrissy (me) and Eddie (my friendo) for a photo with both Jamie and Joseph. I am excited and nervous AF tbh O.O

Then there's my husband's birthmas coming up, which I want to do something special for considering the last two have been a bust with him either going TDY for a class or some other bs. I have a presie already for him, but I just want to do more so I'll be planning a surprise something with our friends... hopefully. 😅

After that is Turkey day which is draining in itself as we often host a gathering at our place and likes to 'impress' even though I'm the one in the kitchen for the most part. 🙄

Fuuuuuuk and I haven't even begun to stress over Xmas->New years->mom's bday->brother's bday... all within the span of just two weeks, mind you. hahaHA, TOSS ME INTO THE SUUUUUN

But yeah... that's it. Just your run-of-the-mill seasonal emotional junk ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I do want to apologize if I've made anyone feel like I'm ignoring or avoiding them. Like I'm doing the grabby hands at my phone or pc and everything is screaming for me to say the things but the desire doesn't match my mind's will to let it happen. I adore you all so so much and I appreciate tf outta ya!

xoxo -Dani

[black-butterfly-system]

Apologies to a Friend

Some time ago, I started talking with a guy who I felt could understand me and who I thought I could understand back. I had been reading him for some time, because he was struggling with issues I felt identified with, but most specially I felt identified with his defiant attitude of pursuing freedom, 'cause this unbreakable will is part of my core.

Mixing deep suffering with hope is describing my journey through this life, so I was glad I had found what seemed to be a kindred soul. I had lost my best friend after telling her about my DID, I had already lost my previous best friend to death, few years ago, it's hard to find someone who can understand me, because I think only someone who has suffered can, and even harder to find someone who has suffered and genuinely wants to heal, and keeps his sensitivity, and is still willing to fight.

Now even harder to talk about multiple personality disorder with someone to share our experiences and that at the same time keeps the previous chime.

The issue is that I didn't know how to talk to him, but I felt attracted (as a friend) to him, as if we had a spiritual mission together, so much, I can't stop thinking about him, not even after I had already given him my insight about how to heal, I didn't want to give so much information because I do know how crazy MK groups are, but also, I know the despair of trying to heal and not knowing what to do, and I wanted to spare more people that pain, so I shared what I knew anyway.

I got online harassment because of it as a clear threat for speaking too much. So, I was paranoid. And if just waking up to my DID wasn't enough, without friends to talk deeply about it, I sent him a message, then I started to read his personal profile and I got heavily triggered with his posts. I don't blame him for this, and I don't blame me either, because despair is the natural reaction to seeing horror (most especially if you're already acquainted) and most specially when you are sensitive and empathetic.

Also, I have been switching personalities like crazy, I still can't identify them clearly because I just recently woke up to the truth of being a system and I still don't have control over these switches, I only notice them because and after I start to feel/think/write differently. Right now I'm in a dominant fragment of mine, the host, who has a richly developed personality.

I'm sorry this guy met me in one of my worst moments, because I know I gave him the paranoid and obsessive "side" of me as my first introduction. If I could talk again to him, I would tell him that I'm sorry and that there's more in me than just fear and that I would like him to meet those other fragments of myself, and I would ask him for comprehension and patience, because I'm doing the best I can with all this information and circumstances I'm in.

Also, I'd tell him that when someone is very reserved I feel fear and automatically I start a self defensive attitude of suspiciousness, I tend to be super outgoing. But I also believe clear communication and empathy can solve any situation, allowing me to relax and be vulnerable, just as vulnerable as I'm writing right now. I hope he can reconsider the situation, or he may want to wait until I can manage and recognise my “alters” better, so I don’t make a mess out of literally nowhere, just because of the intrusive thoughts, I’m still trying to get some understanding of myself.

That's all.

[fictive-confessions]

It kinda sucks that I’m a fictive of an original story our “host” made up, because I’m alone in my knowledge of my story. And if I start to explain it still doesn’t help my case.

I’ve been dubbed the “persecutor” though how is it my fault I have to deal with literally ALL the trauma and traumatic experiences?

and I cope barely, and have an unhealthy dependence on social media. Recently I figured out that I do in fact do some forms of S/H and I admitted to the trauma I’ve experienced to like my one close friend. (Our close friend.)

and what am I supposed to say to them? “Hey.. yeah, I’m a risk to the safety of all of us. Because I don’t cope sometimes.” Because it’s not like they already know that, it’s just my friend didn’t know.

I’m terrified of the nightmares, I can’t have them again. I just can’t.. I just can’t.

and why should I be apologizing when I need this vent god damn, I’ve made so much progress in the last 3 years. I’m NOT gonna throw it out overnight.

I can’t actually confirm this, but I’m not doubting that I had childhood depression. And it’s not like I haven’t had suicidal thoughts since I was like 7, but would I ever admit that to anyone in my life? FUCK NO, because it’s gonna end up BAD. And I’ve worked so hard to make sure the rest of the system isn’t dealing with the memories and the paranoia and the nightmares.

I’m not throwing that away because I have to tell my family about the stupid stupid things little me did, NOPE!

that’s my job, never let anyone know HOW bad it is. Keep on keeping on, because if I don’t no one can.

because the rest of the system would literally cry for months if not more if they were more aware of what the fuck went wrong.

and I’ll deal with my problems, I’ll deal with my memories, and I have been in a slightly better way. I can think about it without crying now which I call an improvement, and I don’t feel like I’m ripping my skin to pieces when I tell someone now. And I’m getting slightly better, the intrusive thoughts never go away. And the memories never fade, but I’m DOING BETTER NOW.

and I hate living life sometimes but I just have to for the rest of us, I want the littles to stay unburdened. And I want us to get to do our dreams, and get therapy.

so I’ll keep hanging on, till then. I’ll keep living till I’ll get better.

that’s it, my sign off for you guys so you know next time is 🌺

thank you. I hope none of this was too much.

None of this was too much at all, feel free to vent anytime you need!

[fictionkinfessions]

i sincerely apologize to anyone who was ever hurt by another bucky kin. the stories i've been seeing people share on this account are grisly. how the fuck is somebody out there trying to earn back the name bucky, trying to earn back the privilege of being a person, and turning around and doing nazi shit. autonomous, free from hydra, and actively choosing all that disgusting shit? man i bet they didn't even have to bother with the brainwashing to get those iterations of me compliant. fuck.

rhodey i am sorry that the bucky you met hatecrimed you with content of explicit violence against folks who didn't do anything but be born looking like you. i'm sorry that his harassment isolated you from a community that should've been, was supposed to be, a safe place for you. you deserve to not just safe but welcomed and appreciated by your past friends and teammates. it is the duty of folks within the community and hosting servers or accounts to weed out people like him. you deserve a place in the kin community and he does not.

maria i am sorry that you were hatecrimed and harassed by the steve and bucky that you interacted with, i am sorry that it sounds like you were already getting this treatment from others as well. you didn't do a single thing wrong, i am sorry that your trust and safety was compromised by people whose entire deal was supposed to be fighting against that shit. your son is a good man and you have every right be proud of him. i only have positive memories of your husband, back during the war, and i wish i could've gotten to know him more. i wish i could've gotten to know you more. i also apologize for killing you and your husband back when i was under hydra's control, for the suffering i caused you and your family. i don't remember the incident but i remember enough to know that i did it in my timeline as well and i still feel responsible for it.

to the steve a while back who had to deal with graphic vitriolic death threats towards his boyfriend from other buckys I am sorry. in my timeline tony and i had our fair share of rocky moments, especially in the beginning, but we became friends and we genuinely cared about each other. most of our issues came from the fact that i fucking murdered his parents. and from us both being shit at clear boundaries so we kept accidentally triggering each other for a while. i know i'm not your buck because in my memories you were with sam and not tony, but no bucky who cares about you would say anything like that to you because they'd know full well it would only upset you, even if they were dealing with violent intrusive thoughts they wouldn't hurt you with them like that. and if they don't prioritize your wellbeing i don't think they even count as a bucky.

[nik-the-bik]

Henriel Week Day 4: Fireside

“Perhaps It’s the Wine”

Summary: Jekyll is super attracted to Gabriel and Gabriel is oblivious

CW: Alcohol, sex mention, and enough sexual tension to take out a priest, but nothing that veers too NSFW.

Gotta thank @corvidayyy for the awesome prompt because I'm surprisingly proud of this one?

****

It was a bitterly windy evening in January, but the guests at Dr. Jekyll’s home were none the wiser. That night he hosted an extravagant dinner for many of his friends and colleagues, sparing no expense for the endless array of hors d’oeuvres, hearty meats, and assortment of rare wines and spirits. Most everyone left the dinner party warmed with a good meal and head fuzzy from drink. As the evening crawled on into the deepest hours of the night, all that remained in Dr. Jekyll’s parlor were himself and his two oldest friends, Dr. Lanyon and Mr. Utterson.

The three sat around a roaring fire reminiscing about their boyhood follies, having animated discussions as they corrected each other’s memories and laughed at long forgotten stories. Some of the last of the wine was passing from hand to hand as they all sank comfortably into its stupor.

Henry opened the final bottle he had bought for the occasion and poured himself and Utterson another glass as Lanyon finally rose from his chair and stretched.

“What’s the matter, Hastie? We’ve got just a bit more wine left! Surely you can stay for one more drink?” Henry asked.

“As tempting an offer as that is, I’ve had more than my fair share,” said Lanyon, straightening his appearance as he prepared to bid his goodbyes. “I feel that any more would be too dangerous—I’m not as avid a drinker as I used to be, and I’ll lose my head entirely.”

“Suit yourself,” Henry chuckled. He and Gabriel Utterson shook his hand goodnight as Lanyon made his way out the door, but not without a few more jabs at his friends. The three were left with laughter ringing in their ears as he left them, Henry and Gabriel relaxing into the plush armchairs closest to the warm fireplace.

The two sat in silence for some time, feeling quite at ease with each other. The situation was not new to either of them—many a dinner party had ended with these two being left alone at the end of the night, softly whispering philosophy with each other or simply dwelling on memories while nursing one last drink before turning in for the night. These quiet, intimate moments were perhaps the ones that Henry Jekyll looked forward to most out of these evenings. Jekyll put down his empty glass and turned himself to face his best friend.

Gabriel Utterson looked beautifully relaxed. He had sunken into his own armchair, one arm around the back while the other lazily twirled the little remaining wine in his glass. He had one leg up on the ottoman, and a rare, small smile of sheer contentment rested on his face, as his eyes hungrily watched the roaring fire before them, cheeks rosy from the wine. Jekyll was captivated – warmed both by the glow of the fire and the soft glow of hedonistic bliss radiating from this man before him, a man who had always lingered in the back of his mind as the example of moral perfection. Yes, Gabriel Utterson was beautiful, and finding him in this tiny moment of domestic pleasure, Jekyll felt that old secret yearning ignite within him once more.

His attraction to Utterson was not something Jekyll let himself dwell on frequently, but on instances where the pangs of desire struck, they often were crippling in their intensity. Tonight was no exception.

Henry suddenly regretted that he never learned to be a painter, wishing that he had the talent needed to capture Gabriel Utterson in this moment. When he felt brave enough to confess as much out loud, Utterson let out a soft chuckle, and his eyes twinkled as his smile became broader across his face.

“Whatever would you want to paint ME for?” he asked, turning his attention away from the fire for the first time, and looking directly into Jekyll’s eyes. Jekyll’s heart stopped for the briefest of moments before his insides turned to butter under Gabriel’s warm, affectionate gaze.

“Well,” Henry started, averting his own eyes as he felt the heat rise to his face. “I guess it’s because you look so…effortlessly happy. It certainly suits you.”

Gabriel laughed again, a cozy, inviting laugh. “Perhaps it’s all of the wine.”

Henry Jekyll couldn’t help but grin himself and bring his eyes back to Utterson’s. He reached for the wine bottle that they had started just before Lanyon had left them and decided to refill his glass. “It certainly is good wine,” he said, scooting his chair a bit closer to Utterson’s in order to top off his glass as well.

“It is good wine,” Utterson reaffirmed, clinking their glasses together and giving him a jovial wink. Henry Jekyll nearly choked on his own drink—why was everything that Gabriel did suddenly so captivating, so…seductive? He was grateful that Utterson had turned his attention back to the fire as he dried his lips with a handkerchief, heart beating loudly in his ears. He had been secretly attracted by Utterson plenty of times before, but somehow tonight, somehow this was more than Henry Jekyll was able to take, and perhaps most maddening of all was how the seduction seemed entirely unintentional on Gabriel’s part.

Yes, this entire evening had been near perfect. Great food, plenty of alcohol, engaging conversation—the pièce de resistance for the night would be great sex, and the primal part of Henry Jekyll was suddenly roaring for it.

Another sip of wine as he stared into the open flame of the fireplace, and suddenly his heart was braced and tongue was loosened just enough to do something a bit foolish.

“You should stay the night, Gabriel.”

“Mmm?” Gabriel lazily hummed, turning his attention back to Henry. God was he gorgeous.

“It’s so late, and the weather tonight…I would prefer to know you were here, safe.”

“Thank you, Harry, but I couldn’t possibly intrude for much longer,” Gabriel said, suddenly shifting in his seat.

Jekyll leaned forward, putting a hand on Gabriel’s knee to stop him. “But I insist! It’s no intrusion, none at all, not when I have so many empty beds—”

“I still have my carriage waiting…”

“Send them home for tonight, and tomorrow you can take mine.”

Gabriel was quiet, only just now noticing that Henry’s hand was still resting on his knee.

“Henry, it would be lovely, but I really shouldn’t stay much later, not when I have so much work waiting for me tomorrow,” he said, turning his face back to the fire.

Jekyll brought the last of his glass of wine to his lips and downed it in one swallow, setting the glass aside and leaning still closer to his companion.

“I am requesting the honor of being hospitable to my dearest friend,” Henry said, voice lilting. He decided to give him the most sultry stare that he could muster. “I do so enjoy the pleasure of your company.”

Gabriel turned his bright, beaming face back to Henry’s, a sweet, naïve giggle escaping him. “I have really enjoyed our visit too.”

Beautiful, innocent, oblivious Gabriel! He had no idea what Henry was getting at!

This wouldn’t do, this wouldn’t do at all. The primal monster inside Henry was hungry, demanding he be sated. He bit down on his lower lip as he pictured himself losing control and yanking Gabriel’s face forward into a deep, passionate kiss, arms encircling his waist, Gabriel’s fingers trailing along his spine... But no, as tempting as the fantasy was, that couldn’t happen either. Not yet.

“It would certainly break my heart to have to spend tonight alone,” Henry said, slowly moving the hand from Gabriel’s knee upwards, rubbing up and down his thigh. “If you were here, well, I could imagine we could make it worth both of our trouble…” he trailed off, delighting in the feeling of Gabriel’s warm, firm thigh in his hand, unconsciously tightening his grip, tongue just starting to touch his lip as he continued rubbing, letting his hand wander ever closer to--

Gabriel’s hand snatched Henry’s away. Henry looked up at Gabriel, who was blushing furiously.

Oh. Gabriel finally understood.

Oh God, he finally understood that Henry--!!

“We shouldn’t,” was all he said.

Henry Jekyll’s heart was racing faster than it ever had before, his face hot with shame, or was it just the fire? Why had he allowed himself to indulge in this secret want of his?

But the foolish, drunken part of Henry’s brain began to chime in. He said WE shouldn’t! Emphasis on the WE!

He didn’t seem offended or angry or ashamed, did he? Just…flustered? Could that possibly mean…?

Jekyll realized that Utterson was still holding his hand. Casting off any sense of caution, he drew Gabriel’s hand towards him, clasped in both of his, desperate to salvage the moment.

“Forgive me, Gabriel, I sometimes forget myself and…”

“It’s alright,” Gabriel said, unable to meet his eyes. His breathing seemed a bit more shallow than usual.

“I'm so sorry if I was inappropriate--I want you to know,” Henry continued, drawing Gabriel’s hand towards his own heart. “That you mean the world to me, and that I would hate to completely jeopardize—”

“It’s alright,” Gabriel insisted again. “You don’t need to apologize. You haven’t done anything.”

“I’m a weak man,” Henry said. “A slave to my most base, sensual urges, many of which, I must humbly confess, center around you.” With that, Henry drew Gabriel’s hand towards his lips, kissing it tenderly. When Gabriel didn’t pull away, Henry continued to plant kisses all over his hand, losing all sense of hesitation as he began to dip into the frenzy of his own desire.

Gabriel finally retracted his hand from Henry’s greedy lips, his whole face red. “Perhaps it’s just the wine making you feel this way,” Gabriel said, pulling his own chair a little further away from Jekyll. “I know I can definitely feel it enacting a certain…influence…”

Henry straightened himself up, running a hand through his hair as he tried to regain his composure after his brief slip into blind ecstasy. “Perhaps it is the wine,” he confessed. He grabbed the bottle, nearly empty now, and decided to pour one small, final glass for himself.

“It’s very, very good wine,” Gabriel said, offering his glass for the remainder. He had his hand half covering his face, still brilliantly pink, eyes sparkling slightly as they peered at him between his fingers.

Henry smiled as he raised a silent toast to his companion, a thrill in his heart as it foolishly began to harbor the belief that maybe, just maybe, this overwhelming desire wasn’t entirely his alone.

[ladykatakuri]

Our Dance

Tech x F Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 2175

Lyrics used from the song All about us performed by He is We

Summary:“I believe you might have to come to her aid soon. The senator currently trying to keep her attention on him is well known for his more….illustrious desires when it comes to women.” The concern in her eyes immediately urges him to spring to action and before she can even finish her full sentence he is off to the rescue.

Here it is, the Tech fic i was working on. Somehow i had several songs that inspired story idea`s and ofcourse it is with the guys from the Batch and yes i also have something in mind for Omega. Hope you like it and comments / tips are always more then welcome here <3

It was one of those evenings, once more. A senator had decided that it was time for an early celebration of, well something important on his home world and of course that meant guests, a lot of food and drinks, caterers and guards. Normally not a big problem, any time that you were invited to a party by a good friend you would happily accept and you did, but this evening turned out to be a huge annoyance to you and a strain on your self restraint.

During your time serving food and having nice conversations with people from all layers of society you came to be very fond of the clones you met. The Coruscant Guard became steady customers of the shop where you served caf and breakfast most times and all the others were a steady stream of visitors at 79`s, the bar where you would have evening and night shifts, waiting on tables and just having a good time with your new found friends. But this party? You would be happy to leave and if you could leave after giving some of the politicians there a piece of your mind then all the better!

It began with the senator of Scipio and delegate of the Banking Clan, Rush Clovis, mentioning to another senator he did not see why there should be any consideration for the clones. Their conversation was caught by you as you walked by on your way back to your friend who had invited you in the first place, Padme Amidala, but it was more than enough for you to already hate the man. Unfortunately it was not an uncommon feeling among people with a seat in the senate to think of the clones as nothing more but meat for the grinder. They were created on Kamino to fight in the war effort, and when they died? Well there were more where they came from.

With a slight tremble you move forward, handing out the drink to a friend you found among the guests and had a nice conversation with. In the meantime you knew that several clones were there by special invitation. The senator that was hosting this party wanted to display his power and thought it would be fun to have some of those clones around to have fun with. In this case that fun meant that the guests who wanted to, could either talk to the clones or even dance with them. They were no more than props on display for most of the people there and you hated every second of it. Especially when you realised one of your favorite groups of men were also there. You were about ready to leave the party and grab some sleep when you saw that special group of men, especially one very special, tall, goggled man who had been haunting your daydreams from time to time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When Tech heard that they were ordered to attend a party he was seriously confused. “They do realise we are considered to be defective clones? Not many senators or other high placed figures would want us around them on purpose.” Rubbing his head he looks at his sargeant and leader, Hunter.

With a deep sigh, Hunter looked at his brother. “Yes Tech, they know. I believe that is exactly why they want us to attend this thing. I suppose there is some ulterior motive to it, but we have to follow this order in any case. So, suit up and be on your best behavior.” The last sentence has the sarge glance at the two most troublesome of his brothers, Wrecker and Crosshair. They were the least likely to really behave, but that was a concern for later.

Tech felt uncomfortable in his black suit, but orders were orders in this case and at least Senator Amidala had been kind enough to start a conversation with him and Echo. Both were surprised at her kindness and how she was genuinely interested in their feelings about the war. Echo had stopped him from rambling about the war too much by pointing out the one person he knew would draw more attention than anyone else in the room.

Take my hand, I'll teach you to dance

I'll spin you around, won't let you fall down

Would you let me lead? You can step on my feet

Give it a try, it'll be alright

For a moment it seemed as if there was only one person in the entire room, and that person was you. Tech looked in the direction Echo pointed at and there you were, walking around greeting and conversing with some of the guests in the room and looking picture perfect while doing so. A string of hair escaped your ponytail and the annoyed glance aimed at one of the senators only made you seem more beautiful. Looking at the senator that seemed to have annoyed you so much, he immediately understood why you seemed ready to hit the man with your fist. Senator Clovis was known to be ruthless when it came to clones and clone rights. When asked, he would always say the exact same thing, “Clones are mere tools in the warmachine. A cog perhaps. They are easily replaced and so, we have no need to mourn the loss of any of them. I see no reason why we would even have to spend any credits on the recovery of the wounded.”

A small grin formed on his lips as he watched you stalk away from the man and move to stand somewhere calm and quiet. Senator Amidala, still in conversation with Echo noticed the slight change in attitude as his eyes followed you around the room. “If you pardon my intrusion, Tech is it?” Her hand taps his arm as she turns to speak to him.

Tech looks at the senator as he answers. “It is indeed, senator. How may I help you?”

Amidala looks at the man currently shifting attention between her and the woman he keeps an eye on as she moves around the room. “I believe you might have to come to her aid soon. The senator currently trying to keep her attention on him is well known for his more….illustrious desires when it comes to women.” The concern in her eyes immediately urges him to spring to action and before she can even finish her full sentence he is off to the rescue.

You know that the man currently speaking to you as if you are just another nobody, who is lucky enough to have been invited to work the celebration taking place is also the same man who not only is a senator, but also well known for demanding personal time with all female personnel and even demanded coruscant guards to remove some women he has used when they became too much of a bother to him afterwards. This time he seems to have set his eyes on you and you are just not having it. “Senator, I must return to my friend now. I apologize for cutting this wonderful conversation short, but if I do not at least spend some time with Senator Amidala this evening, I would be a poor and ungrateful friend.” Though you smile it is obvious even to the senator you only mean the polite refusal to continue the conversation, as much as you refused to dance with him.

“I know you're nothing important in the senate, just a person that Amidala befriended from the lower regions of this planet. You will dance with me, because any offer such as this from the likes of me is an honor and then we will continue our conversation in private.” Just when he reaches for your hand to drag you back, your hand is taken by another man.

As fast as he managed to take your hand before the senator, Tech took the drink from your hand and gave it to another waiter nearby. His arm is already snaked around your waist as he turns you around and walks you to the middle of the room. “I believe you agreed to give me the first dance once you finished your round in the room Y/N. I noticed you were on your way back , so I suggest we make the best of it.

Surprise and gratitude quickly appear and leave your eyes as you smile at the man guiding you away. “Thank you Tech. I almost lost track of time.” The blush on your cheeks as you feel him turn you around to face him brightens when you take him in once more. He looks absolutely dashing in his black suit and light blue dress shirt.

The room's hush hush and now's our moment

Take it in, feel it all and hold it

Eyes on you, eyes on me

We're doing this right

The orchestra plays a slow song as Tech gently moves the two of you around the room. Despite his tall figure and the appearance of a soldier most times, he is absolutely graceful as he leads you in your dance. His hand, warm on the small of your back presses you closer to him while he softly squeezes the hand he holds. Leaning in closer to you his lips almost brush your ears as he whispers. “It seems you needed a rescue. Though from the look you gave that senator, it is highly probable I actually rescued him.” His low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine as he straightens out and swirls you around. “I shall thank Senator Amidala for warning me in time.”

Amidala, your friend. A senator who usually makes her way through all the layers of society and who does her best to help all people. She even spoke to you about clone rights and how to see to it that they would be treated more decently, after she found out that you were one of the people who were strong advocates for clone rights. Soon after that, the two of you struck up a friendship based on mutual respect. She invited you to this evening because of your shared passion for the rights of clones and your contact with many of these men. She felt it might make them feel at ease, seeing a friendly face in the crowd.

Grinning you look up into the brown, bespectacled eyes of your hero of the evening. “I will thank her for sending me a hero.”

The music stops and you are ready to step away from Tech so that he can walk back to his brothers. Tech however is not moving an inch and he is not letting go of your hand. Pulling you back in at the same moment another song is started, Tech gently guides you in another dance.

“You know, people will stare at us. They might even start to talk about us.” A gentle blush on your cheeks, you whisper to him.

'Cause lovers dance when they're feeling in love

Spotlight's shining

It's all about us

It's oh, oh, all

About uh, uh, us

And every heart in the room will melt

This is a feeling you never felt dry

It's oh, oh, all about us

Tech has always been kind to you from the moment you met. His brothers, all with their own sense of humor and fun way of flirting quickly became good friends of yours. Tech as well, though you also developed a crush on him rather fast. His fast knowledge of pretty much everything and witty remarks only served to make you fall harder for the man. And now here you were in his arms, dancing to beautiful music, still a little insecure on whether or not you should let him know how you feel.

Without paying any attention to the room, Tech moves the two of you a bit more to the edges of the room. No longer swirling around with all the other couples on the floor, the two of you softly sway on the sidelines. Still in a warm embrace of his arm around you and his hand softly holding yours, he looks down at you and smiles. “People always find reasons to talk about others. It is in their nature to try and find common ground so as to divert attention from themselves at such events.”

You sigh softly and move the hand that was resting on his shoulder all this time to his face. Carefully brushing his cheek. “You could just tell me to let them watch you know?”

A chuckle escapes him as he leans in to you and his lips brush yours. “It's all about us anyway.

When he moves back, he pulls you in closer against him, your head against his chest, his arms around you as you keep swaying to the music. Nobody else in the room exists at that moment, but the two of you.

“All about us.” you whisper, a promise for the rest of the evening and all the days still to come.

@loth-wolffe @catbustours @reluctant-mandalore @nahoney22 @hellothere-generalangsty @allamarisss

[buckys-black-dress]

campus - bucky barnes x fem!reader (college au)

a/n: hey y’all! so. this is my first ever fic being posted here! i’m super excited to be sharing my work on here :) that being said, thank you for reading! please feel free to share/reblog/leave comments, but please do not repost my work! this lil one shot was inspired by the song campus by vampire weekend. enjoy! - ali

wc: 3.4k

You worked in the evenings at your coffee shop on campus during the week. Being that you went to school in a major metropolitan city, there were endless amounts of students bustling in and out of the shop daily. Day in and day out, it was pretty repetitive. The same kids, stressed, ordering a coffee and snack, and then sitting at a desk or in the upstairs attached library for hours on end, cramming or stressing about some test that was probably the following day. 

But there was one part that always made your day brighter, no matter how horrible your day had been thus far. 

Him.

His dark, long brown hair that looked soft to the touch, his large physique that had you melting in seconds, and his voice. 

He was always kind when he spoke to you, never short or rude. He always took his time to ask you how your day was going, took the time to learn your name, and even sat with you in between customers at the counter. 

Today, it was him sitting through the lunch rush, and while you whirled around the coffee machines and mugs, he watched you and made conversation while you steamed milk for the next latte that was ordered. 

“So, what are your plans for the winter break? Seeing any family?” He questioned, looking down into his own mug of dark brew. 

“Yeah, usually I go up to Canada to see my family there. I miss them a lot around this time of year, can’t wait to see them.” You shrugged your shoulders with a smile. “How about you, Bucky?”

Bucky hummed, wrapping a large hand around the body of the mug and pulled it up to his lips. 

“Yeah, not as far as you, though. Can’t wait to see my ma and sister. Miss ‘em to death.” He matched your grin. 

“Aw, how is she? Doing better now?” 

You recalled one day where Bucky came into the cafe, head hung low. You immediately poured him a cup and sat with him as he talked.

“She’s doing great now, thank God. Would’ve had to take off from school to stay with her if she didn’t, and she’s still so young. No one deserves to be bound to a hospital bed when they’re a kid.” He spoke brightly, glad he could say Rebecca was out of the hospital.

“That’s amazing, Buck! Glad to hear it.” You grinned even brighter than you had before, and Bucky couldn’t help but to stare at the sparkle in your eyes. 

You were a shy girl, and Bucky had initially first seen you in your sophomore art class. For you, it was a core requirement, but Bucky was taking courses aimlessly, trying to figure out what he wanted to do. He was at school on a football scholarship, and almost everyone knew him and his teammates. But as soon as he spotted you in that class, he knew he had to get to know you. It was hard at first, he’ll admit. You weren’t quite as responsive to him as he’d hoped, but over time when he would see you more often, he would make more conversation and you eventually warmed up to him.

You never knew what to do with Bucky. At first, you thought he was pranking you when he tried to talk to you. But over time, you let your guard down. You often fantasize about him and what it would be like to be with him. You fell for the side of him that was kind and caring, the soft side. Others saw the big, brawny football player, but that couldn’t be further from who he actually was. 

“You know, you should come to our party tonight.”

You scoffed at that. 

“And why, Bucky, would I do that?” Your tone was incredulous.

“Because, sweetheart, I want you to meet my friends?” The nickname made your heart flutter, beating wildly against your chest.

“I’ve already met Steve and Sam, and as far as I know, no one else is relevant.” You countered.

“I- Well, you’re right, but I want to have fun with you! I never see you outside of work or school.” Bucky’s eyes shone with pleading, basically begging you.

“I… Fine, maybe I’ll drop by after work…” You compromised, but Bucky’s smirk grew. 

“Yes! I’ll see ya at eight, doll, but I gotta head out and help set up.” He tapped the counter and stood up from his stool, flashing you one last smile before heading out the door, the bell ringing above it.

And fuck, you couldn’t wipe that damn smile off your face. 

-

Eight o’clock couldn’t roll around fast enough, and as soon you clocked out of work you practically ran to your apartment. Your roommates were out, so you picked out the best outfit you could put together in half an hour. 

The walk to Bucky’s fraternity house was jittery, your hands shaking uncontrollably, and it wasn’t just because of the frigid November air. 

It was exactly eight. Music was booming, you could literally feel it from the front porch. Not a minute late or early, and you were wondering why you were so nervous. Of course, it was because of Bucky, but also about the prospect of a party. You don’t go to many at all, and to go to a college party was more or less social suicide. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself, let alone in front of Bucky.

You lifted your hand to knock and after a minute or so, the door pulled open. 

And that was definitely not Bucky. 

“You here for the party?” The guy said, a brunet just a bit taller than you, but you could tell he was older than you.

“Uh- yeah-” You barely got out before he pulled you in by the arm. 

“Great, uh, I don’t have too much time for formalities or anything, but drinks are there,” he said, pointing to the kitchen, “and if ya gotta yak, please, for the love of God, do it in a toilet.” He said, leaving you in the middle of the hallway with people stumbling around you, mumbling apologies as you bumped into countless people. 

You felt like looking for Bucky was hopeless, so you stayed by the drinks for a bit, seeing if he’d come by, and after a few minutes, he turned up.

But of course, not alone.

“Y/N! You made it, I was wondering if you bailed on me!” He was basically yelling over the music.

“Oh! Yeah, I made it, I guess.” You tightly smiled, giving a fake laugh.

“Where are my manners! This is Nat, ot Natasha. We’re in the same Human Sexuality course. ‘ve known her since freshman year, can always count on her.” Bucky announced, pulling the interest of the redhead that he walked in with. 

She extended her hand with a smile as you shook her hand.

She’s fucking gorgeous. Of course Bucky’s here with her. Fuck. Why did you think he would hang out with you tonight? 

“So, Y/N, what’s your major?” Natasha asked you, her soft voice pulling you out of your intrusive thoughts.

“I uh, I’m an English Lit major with a minor in Cognitive Psych.” You responded, wanting to be done with this conversation. Done with this whole party, actually, at this point. 

“Oh shit, that’s so cool! I’m just a boring Criminal Justice major,” she answered, taking a sip from her drink.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up, looking at you in shock.

“Buck! Get this girl a drink! She’s just been standing here empty handed!” She slapped his arm, causing him to curse.

“Fuck, Y/N, let me get you something. Any preferences?” Bucky asked, already turning to the counter. 

“Uhm, not really, just no beer. Tastes like shit.” You huffed out a laugh, looking down at your hands until Bucky handed you a cup that was almost full.

“Vodka lemonade, doll, sweet enough where all you taste is the burn.” He smiled a wide smile that made you realize something. Bucky was drunk. 

“Thanks, Bucky.” You smiled and took a sip. He was right, it wasn’t strong at all, but by the time you looked up, Natasha was pulling him back to the dance floor, throwing her arms around his neck and swaying to the beat. His hands almost immediately found her hips, moving at the same pace.

Somewhere deep in your chest, you felt a pang. You knew that of course, you had no claim over Bucky. But you thought that after really getting to know him that there was something between you two.

But seeing his gaze never waver from Natasha, you guess you’d thought wrong. 

Setting your cup down on the counter, you felt a hand land on top of yours, and he spoke before you could.

“Hey, another rule I forgot to mention. Never leave your cup unattended. We try to keep a clean act here, but some assholes always slip through.” It was the same brunet from earlier.

“Oh… I was actually just about to go…” You mumbled.

“Leaving so early? You make me feel like a horrible host!” He yelled dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Oh God, you don’t even know me, do you?” He questioned.

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t.” You responded, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Well, nice to meet you. I’m Tony, but I prefer ‘Greek God’ or ‘Ruler of the Universe,’ up to ya.” He smirked.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Tony. I’m Y/N.” You shook his hand, looking around. You just wanted to go home at this point.

“So why do you look like someone just killed your cat, Y/N?” He asked, leaning back onto the counter.

“I just… don’t really think this is my scene, I guess.” You shrugged. It was the truth, this wasn’t where you wanted to be on a Friday night. But you came for Bucky, and right now he’s dancing with a gorgeous redhead on the dance floor, while you stand in the kitchen talking to a stranger. 

“I see… have you come to one of our parties before?” He asks, scanning the crowd.

“Uh, just a few with my old roommates, but not too many, but Bucky invited me…” Your words trailed off, spotting him in the crowd, head thrown back laughing at something Steve or Natasha had said. 

“Ah, I see. Bucky.” Tony smirked. “You like him, don’t you?” He questioned.

“What?” You paled, “No! He’s just a friend, we’ve had a few classes together, that’s all.” Your face turned beet red as you looked down at your feet. 

“Listen, Y/N, I don’t know you very well, but I can tell you’re not dumb. If you like him, tell him that. I almost waited too long to tell Pep, but now we’ve been together a whole year and I can’t imagine my life without her. What’s the worst that could happen?” Tony proclaimed, bounding away and pulling a strawberry blonde girl, who you’re assuming is ‘Pep.’

And although Tony’s word instilled an unusual wave of confidence in you, what you were met with when you turned your head towards Bucky made it disappear into thin air.

There he was, in all his long-haired, muscly glory, kissing Natasha. 

Oh.

Alright.

Your mind was blank, and before you knew it you were out of the house and running back to your apartment, ignoring your roommates calling you from the couch as you held back tears. 

Of course Bucky would never go for someone like you. 

-

Waking up and having to go to class on Monday was a feat on its own. But going to work?

Impossible.

You had been avoiding going on campus all weekend, although you had to go in for a studio hour. But all in all, you managed to avoid Bucky. Thank God you didn’t have to work on weekends. 

But alas, Monday came, and Monday meant work. 

And work meant Bucky.

You took your time clocking in and pulling on your apron in the back and as you emerged, you were met with tons of customers waiting in line.

No Bucky yet. 

Hm. 

An hour into your shift, you’re whirling around behind the counter, completing orders, when he walked in. Bucky quietly sat himself down at the countertop and waited for you to greet him with a mug of hot coffee and a smile.

All you could manage was a tight, rushed smile while placing the mug in front of him haphazardly. 

Bucky’s brows furrowed as you kept up your work, not even stopping to speak a word to him. He waited and waited, but you kept to yourself and served the countless students that walked into the cafe. 

Needless to say, Bucky was confused. 

“Hey, Y/N?” He finally piped up after almost two hours of watching you. 

“Oh, yeah, need something James?” You asked, focused on pouring the right amount of milk into a cup. 

James.

You never called him James.

“Uh, no. Just wanted to ask you if everything was alright?” Bucky inquired, hoping you’d give him something. 

“Yeah, just working.” You replied shortly. 

“Oh. Alright, doll.” Bucky took the hint, you thought. 

But he still sat there until you got off your shift, which is exactly what you did not want. 

While walking out of the cafe, you didn’t even look in Bucky’s direction. You walked right out, and by the time he saw you leaving he was sprinting out of his seat, but you had disappeared into the crowd of people walking about. 

The next day was more of the same. Bucky sitting and waiting, and you sneaking out to avoid him.

On Thursday night after work, you waited for the elevator in your apartment building, and just as the doors were about to close, a tall, burly blond slid his way in.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” He nodded down at you.

“Hi, Steve.” You muttered, looking down at your shoes.

“How ya been? Haven’t seen you around that much lately.” He asks.

“Oh, just busy with work and school, finals and stuff are coming up.” You answered, pursing your lips. 

“Yeah, Bucky’s been mentioning that he hasn’t spent time with you in a while. You should talk to him.” He looked at you. 

“Steve, are you here on behalf of Bucky?” You asked, anger raising inside you.

“Well, no, not really. My girlfriend Peggy lives on the 13th floor, so I gotta head out, but just… talk to him, Y/N? He misses you, I think.” Steve punctuates his sentence with the elevator doors sliding shut and leaving you with your thoughts.

-

Of course, you didn’t follow Steve’s advice. You didn’t know how to really act around him now, but you didn’t want to completely cut him off. 

So the following week had been a bit of the same, but Wednesday came, and that’s when it all blew up in your face. 

After work, you snuck out from the back, but the alleyway that was usually empty had one single person there, waiting for you.

“Hey doll, can we talk?” 

Fuck.

“Uh, yeah, sure what’s up?” You asked, standing a mere distance from him. 

“It’s just… why have you been avoiding me?” Bucky sounded unsure, like he was crazy.

“Bucky, I’ve just been busy, I’m sorry-” You started, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“Y/N, please. It’s been almost two weeks and you haven’t said more than five words to me. Did something happen? Did I upset you somehow?” He sounded desperate, like he was really trying. 

But all your mind could think of is him that night. His arms around Natasha, his lips attached to hers. 

And then it went to all of the moments you two shared. Hours of conversations, pet names, talking about everything under the sun.

“Bucky, I just… I don’t understand.”

“What, what don’t you understand, doll?” He was pleading with you here. 

“That party… why did you invite me?” You carefully asked.

Bucky looked confused now. “Because I wanted to hang out with you and have fun?”

You shuffled your feet against the gravel, scoffing at yourself.

“So why did you spend the whole night making out with Natasha?” You asked, pretty boldly if you would admit it to yourself. You were never one for confrontation, but Bucky had put you in a corner. 

“I… doll… I’m sorry, ya gotta believe, it was never my intention to make you feel unimportant,” Bucky’s eyes flashed with realization at what he’d done, “I was drunk out of my damn mind because Tony was pregaming and… I’m sorry, Y/N.” Bucky bowed his head in shame. 

“Just… was I all a game to you? Someone who was just there to comfort you when you needed it? Did I… ever mean anything more to you?” Your voice was meek.

“Y/N, please, look at me.” Bucky’s hand found your cheek, tilting your head up. “You are the sweetest, kindest, most intelligent person I’ve met in my entire life. There is no one else like you.” He spoke passionately. 

“Then… why can’t I be enough?” Tears pooled in your eyes. “Why can’t I be the one you hold when you dance?” Why can’t I be the one who gets the guy?

“You have to believe me, I was drunk, Y/N. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m so, so, so sorry. I was just afraid. You’re always so quiet, I never know how you’re feeling, so I just assumed you weren’t interested in me the way I was interested in you. I thought I was chasing a dead end.” He confessed.

By now, fat tears were running down your face, being gently wiped away by Bucky's large thumbs. 

“I just- I know I don’t talk much, but I always talk to you. It was so hard for me to open up to you and when I saw you with Natasha I just… I thought I had driven you away. I thought you’d found someone better because I wasn’t enough for you.”  You barely choked out the words.

“Sweetheart, you are more than enough for me. I come and sit with you at work for hours just to hear you talk. I just didn’t know how to tell you without freaking you out.”

By now, the both of you were crying, trying to understand how you got here.

“I’m sorry, Buck. You’re just so different. I never thought someone like you could like someone like me.” 

“Doll, please. I wouldn’t shut up about you to Steve, he was going insane.” Bucky cracked a smile, thumbing at your cheek still.

You giggled at that, sniffling. 

“Look at us. Two big idiots, huh?” You laughed.

“The biggest idiots. But I think I’ll be an even bigger idiot if i don't do this.” He  mumbled.

“Do what?”

Before the question could leave your lips, his mouth was on yours, capturing it in a sweet kiss that you didn’t even know you were longing for. 

After coming out of your daze, your eyes fluttered open when Bucky pulled away.

“What was that for?” You breathily asked, bringing your fingers up to your lips. 

“It was to show you how sorry I am. I wanna take you out and show you off, Y/N. I wanna make you my girl. Whaddaya say?” Bucky was smiling, but you could tell he was nervous.

“Sure, Buck. I’ll be your girl. But you gotta take me out for dinner first.” You smirked, clutching Bucky’s face in your hands. 

“I’ll take ya wherever ya wanna go, sweetheart. I’d take you to the moon if you wanted.” 

[peakyxtommy]

“Why did you choose me?”

Characters: Tommy, Arthur, Michael

Summary: ​“Why did you choose me?”

Warning: Sad/Hurt/Comfort 

A/N: I love writing this prompt so much. Enjoy! 

Prompt List: @otp-promptly​

All Credit To Gif Owners!

Tommy: “Why did you choose me? (You to him) 

Sometimes your mind ran wild with negative thoughts. Thoughts that were lies, that made you feel weaker and smaller than what you truly were. Thoughts that made your stomach in knots and drove you mad. Sometimes you could stop the thoughts before they festered like a wound oozing puss but times like now, it feels like a knife twisting inside of you. A never ending dull pain, that you wanted to be rid of but couldn’t be. 

On a day like today where everything seemed to boil down to performance and appearance and long conversations with people you were likely never to see again, you couldn’t help but speak the words aloud to him after a long evening of wining and dining. An evening where it felt like everyone else was so much better than you, where women looked better than you felt you ever could. People were eyeing up your husband lustfully or with intentions to do business. You never left those dinners feeling satisfied but felt empty after wanting nothing more than to hide away for the next few days. 

Here you were in your bedroom settling in for the night next to your husband when the dam breaks and you feel those wounds open yet again. Wounds you thought were healed but still needed healing. 

“Why did you choose me?” When the words leave your mouth, you sound so small, so childlike. Your voice was wet already feeling the tears starting to break through. You wish you could just put it in a small box in the back of your mind to deal with another time, but it was an impulsive intrusion of your brain. You needed to hear the answer, to hear whatever words left his mouth, for you mind to be put back at ease. For this small twisting ache to go away even if it was just for the night. 

When the words leave your mouth he almost misses what you said, but the way your voice sounded so sad catches his attention and he feels his heart break a little. He loved you more than anything in the world. You were the light to his darkness. The one thing that helped him stay calm and would release his stress after long times in the office. You made him better in many ways. He was more alert because of you and even had better ideas for the business, because you would always know how to help at a roadblock. You made him a better man. 

So when the words leave your mouth he couldn’t help but ponder over the course of the week or even the evening to wonder what made you say those words to him. He knew he didn’t have all the answers, would ever be able to make you feel whole about yourself, but he had the words to soothe your mind, to make you see the truth instead of the lies. 

He would hold you close to his chest as he let the tears stain his shirt wet. All the while, rubbing soothing circles on your back, while shushing you as you tried to apologize. When you were calm, he would dry your tears, as you sat in his lap facing him. He would make sure your eyes were facing his as he spoke, 

“Why is my pretty wife crying, hm?” His warm breath hits your face, hand holding the back of your head.

“I chose you (y/n), because you make me a better man. You make breathing a little easier and I always look forward to seeing you first thing when I awake and when I go to bed. Your smile brightens up the whole room. You are smart, beautiful, funny, and so many more things. I chose you because I love you more than your pretty head will ever know. You are my world and bring a fullness I never knew was possible. If I have to remind you every single day, I will. You can always tell me what’s on your mind, I'll always listen to you. You’re stuck with me.” He speaks soft and affectionate, loving blue eyes gazing into yours. 

“Thank you, Tom.” Is all you say in a small whisper as your head rests in the curve of his neck and he hugs you. 

“I love you only, always and forever. Never forget that.” 

Arthur: “Why did you choose me? (him to you) 

It was a little past midnight when you heard hard knocks and shouts coming from your front door. You had no idea who was banging at your door but as soon as you opened the door to your boyfriend of a year, you knew it was serious when you saw his blood shot eyes and bloody knuckles. You also knew you had to get him inside because he was screaming out your name as if you weren’t standing right in front of him. You knew you would hear it in the morning from Mrs. Bradley yet again about the Birmingham gangster waking up the neighborhood with drunken shouts and loud knocks. 

“Arthur, you gotta stop yelling. I’m right here. Come in let’s get you cleaned up yeah.” You usher him inside shutting the door behind him. You lead him to the couch where he takes a half sitting/slumped position. You wanted to be mad at him because this was the third time he’s shown up to your house in a similar occurrence, but your worries overridden the fact. You go get a glass of water and your medical kit, to help sober him a little and clean up his hands as he sits now quiet on the couch.

“You need to drink this. Give me your hand so I can clean you up, yeah.” He nods at your words letting you work in an eerie silence. He’d usually have so much to say due to the adrenaline but tonight he was stone cold quiet caught up in his own thoughts. As you bandage his hands with the last wrap, he speaks the words that make your heart still and break a little. 

“Why’d you choose me? Out of all the men in Birmingham you chose a gangster at that, a criminal.” He says it in a small but frustrated tone. He was frustrated with himself, with his life, and that here you were again cleaning up his mess. He felt like a mess and didn't understand why you continued to open up your home and heart to him. You were a good woman. He loved you deeply and couldn’t imagine life without you, but he still had doubts that plagued the back of his mind just as close to the edge of death he lived. 

“Arthur look at me.” You bring your warm hand to his face, holding the side of his face, thumb brushing over his cheek. 

“I chose you because you were yourself from day one and always have been. You are an open book and wear your heart on yourself. You care for those you love and will do anything to protect them. On our first date you made me laugh and smile so hard, I hadn’t felt happy like that in the longest time until you showed up in my life. 

We’ve had our ups and downs but that only makes my love for you grow stronger. You’re all I think about from the moment I wake up and until I go to bed. I look forward to your surprise visits, at normal hours preferably, and phone calls to check in on me. I still love you after midnight when you’re drunk and hurt on my couch. I love you Arthur and I see the goodness in you even if you don’t. I’ll always be here to remind you of that, for as long as you let me.” 

You say giving him a small kiss to the lips. He goes to wipe his own tears, satisfied with your answer. 

“Let’s get to bed love.” He speaks, as you both get up from your positions. Once changed he joins you in your bed. He lays himself on your chest listening to your heartbeat as you hold him tight to you.

Michael: “Why did you choose me? (you to him) 

Your blood was boiling. You couldn’t understand why you would always let her get you to this point. The point of where all logic and reason seemed to leave your mind to be replaced with doubts and insecurity. It was the same argument over and over again. You don’t know why you keep going in circles but it was like that one truth wouldn’t sink into your mind. The doubt of him leaving her for you even if you really were his. 

You were out at a business dinner Tommy was hosting at his house. Of course she was there. You saw her a mile away and she didn’t wait to make her presence known. She greeted you both, shaking your hand in faux politeness, before going back to her table. You knew then that you would be in for a long evening. You knew the look on Michael’s face meant that he wasn’t in the mood for an argument about his ex so you let it go for now. 

You tried to enjoy the dinner and time as much as possible. You left to go to the bathroom and when you returned Gina was sitting in your seat. Legs crossed, fingers brushing over Michael’s shoulder, and laughter from the two of them. All you saw was red but decide to go to the bar to get a drink to calm your nerves. 

When you go back she’s gone like she was never there to begin with. You sit in your chair like she wasn’t there. You ignore Michael for the rest of the evening and his makings of conversation. You were too agitated to even talk to him with an ounce of kindness. When it’s time to leave the ride home is just as silent, with tension hanging heavy between you both. 

It’s not until you reach the walls of your shared apartment that the words leave your mouth. Wanting to know and hear the truth from him, even though you knew you were overreacting but you couldn’t help it. 

“Why did you choose me?”

When the words leave your mouth he was exhausted. It was a long night and it didn’t help with the tension caused by Gina. He didn’t love her or want to be with her anymore. They broke up for a reason and he couldn’t understand why you couldn’t understand or see through his words. Always fighting him on it no matter what left his lips. He was as exhausted as you in going in circles or repeating himself. He would put up with it because you’re worth it to him. That he was in love with you but had yet to say it. 

“I chose you because I’m in love with you. Only you, you’re all I want and think about all day. Your happiness means the world to me. Gina is in the past and I need you to trust me when I say it. I don’t want her or think about her. We broke up for a reason and I’m with you now. Whatever I have to do to prove it to you, I will because your worth it baby.” He speaks tracing a warm finger down your face, his face and tone serious. 

“Say it again.” You whisper taking his hand in yours.

“I love you and you only.” He goes to press his lips against your as your fingers grip his hair soaking him in. 

“Then show me. I love you too.” You speak as he leads you up the stairs to your shared bedroom to show you how much he loved you and only you.