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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

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A Gift To Remember

Summary: Shadow receives a gift for his birthday that causes a series of very interesting (and often cute) events.

Word count: about 7500 words

Author’s Note: I didn’t realize today was Shadow’s birthday! At the moment I’m more than a little confused because the release dates for SA2 say everything from the 18th to the 23rd, but this seems to be the one, so here this is!

Also, to that one anon whose question about this fic I never quite managed to answer- sorry about that and I do hope you’re still here to read this!

...

The main room of Team Dark’s home was, on a normal day, at least somewhat clean- which was in and of itself surprising, considering the fact that three teenagers lived there. (It was, of course, slightly less surprising when it was noted that one of these teenagers was a giant robot, one was already a businesswoman, and one had grown up in an incredibly clean environment.)

At the moment, however, said room was currently rather less clean, instead covered in various colorful signs, streamers, balloons, and other such decorations. After all, today was a very special day.

When Shadow and Rouge had discovered they shared a birthday (or creation day for Shadow, technically), they both became infinitely more determined to celebrate it for the other’s sake. This had actually, interestingly enough, also ended up making them enjoy their own festivities more than they had in quite some time.

Omega, meanwhile, had officially decided that this was his favorite day of the year.

Over the past few days, Rouge had already received a few presents from various people she knew in the line of clothes, makeup, or jewelry- but as much as she loved gems, her favorites so far were definitely the ones Omega and Shadow had gotten for her: a laser cutter that could slice through anything and a pair of (stylish) infrared goggles, respectively.

Shadow had just opened his present from Omega, which happened to be a sword that looked very cool...but was also longer than his actual body. This wasn’t actually as big of a problem for him as might be expected, as he’d gotten used to handling weapons several times his size during the alien invasion a little while back.

He had, however, been told rather quickly by Rouge to put it away ‘before you slice the wall in half, this place does cost money, you know!’.

Next, Rouge placed her present in his hands, but at first all Shadow could do was just stare at it. This was likely because the gift wasn’t actually wrapped, but instead consisted of a box made of wood slats and filled, oddly enough, with paper shavings. There were quite a few ribbons on it, though, in an attempt to make up for the lack of other decorations.

“I couldn’t wrap it, or else the present wouldn’t have worked.” she explained, sitting back down to watch him open it.

After prying off the top and shifting aside some of the paper pieces, the hedgehog froze.

Inside, there sat a single white chao egg.

Carefully lifting the egg out of the box, Shadow held it gingerly, as though he were afraid it might try to bite him if he wasn’t gentle enough.

“Rouge…” he began nervously. “Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate this, but...are you sure I’m the best person to be taking care of a chao?”

“Of course, hon!” she said. “You’ve taken care of them before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but…” Shadow protested, “...are you sure I’ll be able to do as well at home? The garden is their natural habitat…”

Omega folded his arms. “YOU ARE THE ULTIMATE LIFEFORM. OF COURSE YOU CAN RAISE A CHAO.”

“That’s right!” Rouge added. “The chao are always happy when you take care of them- this time isn’t going to be any different.”

“…I suppose so.” Shadow conceded, taking a deep breath. He began to rock the egg slowly from side to side. “Here we go-”

A crack appeared across the pristine white surface. The split spread rapidly while Shadow sat and watched, making sure not to move the egg about much. Chao had to hatch their eggs on their own- it was the way they first began to strengthen themselves.

Rouge laughed. “See? You know exactly what you’re doing!”

Shadow studiously ignored her and continued to focus on the egg. Then, suddenly, a chirp came from inside and the whole top half came flying off.

The hybrid looked at his newborn chao...and his heart (though he’d never admit it) immediately melted. Soft, big eyes gazed up at him, an overjoyed smile on the creature’s face. It cooed happily upon seeing him give a small smile back, and he reached out and began to gently pat its head.

The chao broke into an even wider smile as its eyes closed blissfully, the little sphere above its head popping into a heart. Shadow continued to pet it, offering gentle words of praise, and might have continued like that for the next ten minutes had a camera noise from Omega not made him look up in alarm.

“ADDING IMAGE TO FILE: SHADOW BEING SOFT.” he declared, while Rouge looked on with a giant grin.

“You will do nothing of the sort-” Shadow growled, jumping to his feet, before a soft whimper from his chao stopped him. Its eyes were watery, wide and distressed, and the hybrid immediately scooped it up in his arms, holding it close. It relaxed quickly, snuggling into his chest fluff, and he shot Omega one last semi-serious glower before turning his attention back to the newborn.

Omega promptly took another picture.

…

Later that day, at the party that all of their friends had thrown for them, the chao and Shadow were nearly inseparable. It tended to rest in his lap when he was sitting or rode in between his ears whenever he stood up to get something. Eventually, though, the excitement of a new environment overwhelmed its initial nervousness, which unfortunately led to Shadow returning from the dining room with his hands full of plates of food to discover his chao crawling along the precarious edge of a bookshelf.

Suddenly, the chao’s footing slipped, and Shadow froze, unable to move or do anything- but then Sonic of all people noticed and was already there, leaping up and catching the chao before resting it snugly in his arms. “Looks like someone’s already progressed to the giving-their-owner-a-heart-attack stage, hm?” he asked, smirking at the little creature.

“Thank you.” Shadow said as his chao was returned to him, trying very hard to ignore the way his hands and Sonic’s brushed in the process.

(He’d been nursing a bit of a crush on the hero for a while now, but had decided to ignore it until it wore off. Sonic had admirers from all across the globe vying for his attention- it was absurd to think that anything could happen between them.)

…

Over the coming weeks, all three members of Team Dark made sure to rework their schedules so that someone was always home to watch over the chao- no more climbing on bookcases for the little one now. Shadow did most of the caretaking, feeding, training, cleaning, and providing Chaos Drives (mostly green) to the chao. Rouge did, however, occasionally claim she could ‘handle the extra work’ to give him some spare time and Omega even took it upon himself to watch it every so often.

Sometimes, Shadow and his chao would even cook together in the kitchen (a hobby he’d discovered he enjoyed after finding out that Rouge tended to eat takeout all the time- “You can’t live off that day in and day out- you’re not me, Rouge!”). The sight of a tiny pale blue creature determinedly lifting a bag of flour and flying it across the room was awfully cute- especially after Shadow bought it a tiny apron in what he unconvincingly claimed was an accidental purchase.

Shadow never made accidental purchases.

As much as the hybrid took care of it, though, the chao also seemed to be helping him. He smiled more, glowered less, and generally seemed more tolerant of mistakes than he had been in the past. Nowadays, errors that would once have caused him to go off on a rant or huff about were now met with a calmer ‘it’s okay’ or an offer for help fixing it.

He often laid a hand on it in his sleep or curled around it protectively, and could easily be seen patting its head, carrying it around, or even- when he thought he was alone- nuzzling it gently. The amount of time and care he put into making sure that his chao was happy would have been astonishing to anyone who hadn’t already seen how much he cared about his friends.

It was no surprise then that, before long, Rouge and Omega woke up one morning to find the chao inside a cocoon (and also a very stressed-out Shadow).

The hedgehog promptly called in sick for the entire week- an incredible occurrence for him. He’d originally sworn that since he couldn’t get ill, he’d give his sick days to others when they needed it, but now that was all out the window. He wanted nothing more than to stay home and essentially sit and stare at the cocoon until it hatched.

While the two other members of Team Dark managed to convince him to eat, sleep, and do chores on regular intervals, whenever Shadow had a spare moment he’d stay in his room, watching and waiting. Their friends got so worried that Rouge and Omega had used everything in their power to coax him out of the house twice over those five days, but he refused to do any more. Even then his outings had to come with the promise that they’d both stay home, check it every five minutes, and call him the absolute moment something happened.

On the sixth day of waiting, the cocoon began to hatch while Shadow was attempting to discreetly read out loud to the chao from one of his favorite books. The moment he saw the split, he dropped the novel, jumped up, and shouted louder than he had in months- “Rouge! Omega! It’s HAPPENING!”

He hovered so closely around the cocoon that Omega had to physically pull him back as Rouge reminded him to give the chao more space. Within moments, the split had widened enough for a single black paw to poke out, feeling around carefully for some sort of purchase to pull itself the rest of the way outside. Soon enough, it had succeeded, earning- impressively enough- widened eyes from Omega and a gasp from both Shadow and Rouge.

Frowning light blue eyes were set in an equally grumpy (albeit adorable) face, with two little black ears and three tiny quills on the chao’s head. The ears and quills both had red stripes, as did the arms, legs, and even its tail. A red crescent shape sat on its chest, and two tiny purple bat wings flapped slowly behind it.

In short, it looked a lot like a tiny Shadow.

The hedgehog in question reached out carefully and began to pet his chao, offering some quiet words of praise, but before long it flew up and settled in its favorite spot in between his ears. When Shadow turned around to face his friends, they were met with the sight of a little glowering creature settled on top of his head…which really did look far too similar to the hybrid himself when he was irritated.

Rouge covered a smile with both of her hands. “Shadow...hon…”

He frowned at her, only serving to make the resemblance more obvious. “What?”

“It looks exactly like you!”

“Not really- it has blue eyes and...bat wings…” He looked up at her suddenly. “Rouge...how much time have you been spending with Spark again?”

“Oh, just a little- wait, Spark?” she said quickly, redirecting his attention.

Shadow flushed a bright green at that. “I might’ve already picked out a name...does it sound alright?” he asked, studiously looking anywhere but at his friends.

The chao chirped at the name and snuggled a little further into the fur on his head, seemingly pleased with the title.

He began to smile at that. “You like that name, do you?” he asked teasingly.

“It sure looks like it! I think it’s a lovely name, hon.” Rouge added.

The chao cooed, cementing its name with all of the team (whether Omega would admit it or not).

Now, if anything, Shadow and his chao were even more close than before. Rouge even bought it a tiny leather jacket to match his style, which was quickly deemed by everyone (especially their friends, to whom she’d sent about fifty photos) the most adorable thing ever.

...

One day, Shadow came home from lunch out with Silver and Blaze only to discover a quite unexpected scene- though he really should have seen it coming, considering what he’d noticed after his chao had hatched. Rouge was kneeling next to the sofa, scratching Spark behind the ears and saying in what could only be described as a baby voice, “Who’s your favorite momma? Me, that’s right. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Uh….” he interrupted, feeling more than a little uncertain as to how to respond to this. He was torn between “I didn’t know you had a baby voice” and “I’m glad to see you and Spark getting along” and wasn’t entirely sure which one to go with here.

The bat, on the other hand, jumped a good three feet in the air at the sound before glaring at Shadow furiously. “Don’t startle me like that!” she shouted, more than a little tense...and also a bit worried?

The hybrid didn’t react, instead saying “It’s nice to see you spending time with Spark too, Rouge.” with a smile.

She relaxed a little at that, and Shadow sighed. “Rouge, I wouldn’t make fun of you- I do the same kind of thing, don’t I?”

“You’re right, you’re right.” the bat admitted. “I just had to! It looks like me- it even has my wings! How could I not?”

Shadow moved to sit down on the sofa at that, reaching out to pat the chao as well. Rouge smiled at him gratefully, and then they both looked down at the cute creature in between them, who was promptly staring up at both with a confused look on its face. After a moment, though, it seemed to realize that everything was alright and nuzzled both Mobians before curling up on the couch happily.

…

Another time, the entire team was out grocery shopping at their favorite store when Spark’s eye was caught by the soft, warm cinnamon buns sitting behind a glass case. After a minute or two of desperate pulling at the seams- to no avail- it flew over to Shadow and began to poke at his shoulder until he turned to look at it.

“Yes? What is it?” he asked, giving the chao a little scratch under the chin.

The chao pointed excitedly at the sweet treats, but its expression melted into one of dismay upon hearing him say “No, Spark, that’s not very good for you- and it’s too big for you to finish all by yourself, too.”

It mimed a clock insistently- they didn’t go to the store that often, after all- its frown deepening all the while. Shadow felt a little uncertain- he enjoyed giving the chao treats, but was now really the best time to feed it so much sugar? It could end up flying all over the place, and he really didn’t feel like getting banned from yet another grocery store. (The last one had been because Omega got a little too excited while messing around with the shopping cart and had melted it and twisted it into a knot...somehow. They were rapidly escorted out after that.)

Suddenly, though, the chao shuffled forward, took one of his fingers in between its tiny paws, and stared up at him with the softest, most pleading look it could possibly manage, its eyes wide and mouth quivering. “No...no, come on…” Shadow protested weakly, but already his resistance was melting away. It practically seemed to be saying haven’t I been good all week? Can’t I please just have this one treat? and the hybrid was in no condition to fight back.

Within moments, Spark was holding a cinnamon roll and dug into it with glee, only pausing once to nuzzle Shadow happily and offer him a quick bite as thanks. He accepted the gesture of appreciation easily (even though now his face had sugar on it after the chao’s affectionate thank-you) and was more than happy to see his chao smiling broadly with the treat in its hands.

…

The chao was, of course, still a great help to Shadow as well. One night in particular, it woke up to the sounds of quiet whimpering and began to look around, startled. For a moment, it turned to its caretaker for help- and then discovered that he was the one in trouble.

Shadow was curled up on his side, his brow creased in distress and his whole body shaking terribly. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and occasionally the most terribly saddening sounds would escape his mouth. Once or twice, a tear escaped and trickled down his face.

Spark crawled up to his face gently, licking away the tear and nuzzling his cheek. Shadow shuddered briefly, but seemed to relax almost infinitesimally when the dark chao pressed itself against his chest for a moment. Eventually, the creature managed to get him to roll onto his back, at which point it crawled onto his chest, hoping that this would help him begin to relax.

It really did work- within moments, the small, warm weight on his chest made Shadow’s breathing even out and his shivers ease as the nightmare that was plaguing him began to fade.

Spark curled up, pleased with itself, and fell back asleep not long after.

…

There was just one problem amongst all this newly-discovered happiness that came with the chao. Ever since it had evolved out of its cocoon, Omega seemed as though he were hardly willing to interact with it.

Rouge or Shadow would hand it over to him, only to get it back less than a minute later. He spent the least amount of time with it out of the three, but when he was asked if he didn’t like the chao, he never said as much.

Omega didn’t tend to lie...but then why wouldn’t he do anything with it?

Once or twice, they’d caught him merely staring at Spark as the little creature sat on the couch, his optics clicking but otherwise utterly silent. The two Mobians hardly knew what to make of it- he’d never acted like this before.

They finally had the opportunity to discover why he was behaving strangely several days later, though, entirely due to an accident on Shadow’s part. Rouge and Omega had been answering a distress call regarding some rogue G.U.N. robots and needed to call in the hybrid to help. He’d driven his motorbike directly to the scene and leapt straight into battle…

...and hadn’t noticed Spark peeking out of the bag he’d left on his bike.

The chao- while fast, to be sure- was in no way prepared for a full-on battle. While at first it had hoped to help its little family, flying about uncertainly in hopes of doing something, it quickly discovered that the only thing it could really do was to hide behind an upended concrete slab and hope it wasn’t noticed.

That, unfortunately, didn’t quite work out.

It didn’t take long before one of the rogue drones spotted a fourth heat signature aside from the three it was fighting and began to stalk towards it, charging its laser cannon in the process. Shadow, confused at first, felt his stomach drop in horror upon seeing his tiny chao shaking in fear as the machine advanced on its hiding spot. He hadn’t thought to bring a Chaos Emerald, believing this would be an easy battle- and Rouge was busy in the air.

The laser cannon on the drone was almost fully charged, and Shadow fired up his skates in a futile attempt to somehow reach Spark before-

A white hot blast lit up the area.

Shadow couldn’t have stopped the strangled cry that came from his mouth if he had wanted to. The smoke began to clear, and he almost couldn’t look…

Something stirred within the haze, and as it cleared away, Shadow felt his whole body sag with relief upon seeing Omega shifting to an upright position from where he’d shielded the chao with the back of his chassis, blocking the full force of the laser. He let out a sigh as he caught a glimpse of Spark held safely in Omega’s hand as the other one retracted to reveal a flamethrower.

“MY TURN.”

Within moments, the drone was just so much melted slag on the floor and the battle’s tide was turned. Shadow and Rouge dispatched the other robots and then rushed to Omega, who had held onto the chao this entire time.

“Omega...thank you.” Shadow said, taking Spark from his friend and holding it tightly.

“IT WAS- zzzt- NOTHING.” Omega said, a sudden staticky buzz splitting his sentence in two.

“Omega?” Rouge asked, her eyes narrowing. “What happened to you?”

“NOTHING.” he said hurriedly, his voice still glitching. “WAIT- DON’T YOU D-DARE-”

The three had already begun looking to see what had happened...but then froze when they saw the damage his back panel had taken while shielding Spark from the blast. A giant, smoking hole of warped and fused metal was burned into his chassis, revealing a bunch of melted and sparking wiring that definitely needed urgent attention.

“Omega…” Shadow looked horrified.

Rouge frowned, confused. “Why would you do this to yourself? I know how much you hate having to go get repairs.”

The robot let out a burst of static that sounded almost like a resigned sigh. Turning around, he muttered, “IT’S LI-LITERALLY YOU. AND ROUGE. BUT TINY. THAT APPEARS TO HAVE… STRANGE EFFECTS- zzzt- ON MY BEHAVIOR.”

“Do you...not like those effects?” Rouge asked, now clearly shifting into ‘I’m figuring things out’ mode. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding it so often?”

“I AM A ROBOT OF MASS DESTRUCTION. I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO CARE FOR TINY CREATURES SUCH AS THIS ONE. I SHOULD NOT FEEL ANY ‘WORRY’ ABOUT IT- AND YET-” Omega cut off there with a frustrated crackle.

Shadow still didn’t understand. “You’ve always been a robot of mass destruction, but you never thought it was weird to worry about us before.”

“THAT WAS DIFFERENT!” Omega insisted. “YOU BOTH ARE POWERFUL. IT IS NATURAL THAT RESPECT AND CONSEQUENTLY OTHER THINGS SHOULD COME FROM THAT. BUT THIS-! IT HAS NO DESTRUCTIVE QUALITIES! BUT STILL I...YOU KNOW...”

“It’s official, Omega.” Rouge said at that, a smirk growing on her face. “You’re becoming more and more like us...organics are always weak for cute things.”

“IT IS SHAMEFUL THAT I SHOULD COME TO THIS.” he grumbled.

“It’s not so bad, really.” Shadow said, placing a hand on his arm.

“And that’s coming from the guy who never used to admit he cares about people!” Rouge insisted. “Omega, you know you don’t have to be embarrassed about that kind of thing here- you’d never make fun of Shadow for not being tough all the time, would you?”

“I GUESS NOT…” he said, still seeming irritated.

At this point, Spark flew up to sit in Omega’s hand, looking up at the robot with its little frowning face, before reaching out and patting a single finger solemnly with its paw.

“OH NO.”

“Oh yes.” Rouge answered, grinning. “Let’s get you to Tails now though, okay? Then once you’re fixed up you can come home and pet the chao.”

Omega turned his head away and refused to dignify that with a response.

(He did, however, pet the chao when he got home. Nobody teased him about it, for which- while he’d never say it- he was rather grateful.)

…

It was inevitable, eventually, that Team Dark’s schedule wouldn’t be perfect and that they’d all have to be out and busy at some point. This, of course, meant that Spark would have to be dropped off at the chao daycare.

Shadow had managed to force himself to reconcile with that fact, but the chao wasn’t nearly as good at that sort of thing.

On the day of, it was sobbing desperately, clinging to Shadow’s jacket with a tight grip as though it’d been handed a horrible punishment instead of a day spent at the warm, welcoming building in front of it. “It’s going to be alright. You’ll be okay, it’s just for a day. See, the Mobians who run it are very nice- won’t you look?” the hybrid whispered in a soothing voice, gently rubbing Spark’s head.

Omega stepped forward. “DON’T YOU...WANT TO SHOW HOW BRAVE YOU CAN BE?” he said awkwardly. Talking to the chao was still taking some getting used to for him, but he was definitely trying his best.

Rouge smiled warmly at that. “Of course! We’ll all be so proud of you, don’t you know that?”

“We can make a cake especially for you when you get home too, alright?” Shadow said, and that was the final thing the chao needed to hear. Wiping its eyes with a final few sniffles, it flew over to the little walkway towards the entrance and stood up tall, its body shaking slightly with leftover stress and its attempts not to cry.

“We love you!” Rouge called, blowing it a quick kiss.

“See you soon.” Shadow said gently, waving with a smile.

“YOU’LL BE THE BEST ONE THERE.” Omega added, shuffling in place a little.

The chao whimpered briefly, but then turned away and bounded into the daycare before it could lose its nerve.

Throughout the morning, it remained relatively antisocial- a bit like the hedgehog whose appearance it had taken- during the music and karate lessons. The other chao all babbled and played together, being mostly neutral and hero-types, and the few dark chao that were there wanted to cause an awful lot more trouble than Spark was in the mood for.

One thing that it noticed very clearly, though, was the extraordinarily frustrating presence of a royal blue hero and speed-type chao.

This chao didn’t seem to think even once (let alone twice) about anything it did. It banged on the drums until Spark’s ears were sore during music class and then somehow managed to smack it in the face during karate lessons twice, and all the while it chatted away with about five other chao all around it.

Needless to say, by midday, when it was playtime, Spark had just about had enough.

When the blue chao rushed directly through the little sand city that it had been carefully building, swiping everything away with a single dash, Spark growled, picked up the plastic shovel it had been playing with, and threw it so hard it whacked the other creature in the arm.

Snarling, it began to stomp off when it felt a hand on its shoulder. The blue chao darted away and began hurriedly to try and rebuild the city, occasionally glancing up at Spark with an apologetic expression in its eyes.

It...looked awfully sad, actually.

Suddenly, the dark chao remembered how it had quickly stopped banging on the drums when the teacher had told it to, and how it had looked rather guilty when it had smacked Spark in the face, and how excited it was when talking with the other chao…

Maybe it was just a little clumsy sometimes.

Spark sighed a little. The other meant well, it decided, as its anger began to fade. It appreciated the apology...but now the sculptures were gone and it couldn’t get them back. Then, though, its gaze fell upon a pair of toy cars sitting nearby.

Pulling the blue chao over to a strip of flat, packed earth nearby, it gave one car to its surprised companion and then set its own down at a line that could work quite well as the start of a race.

Soon enough, the other creature worked out the idea and began to cheer with delight, and before long they were racing cars like they’d been friends since the start. Eventually, they even switched to running races themselves, over and over again until they were all worn out and collapsed on the cool grass in a heap. Before long, though, they were up and at it again, only this time they started with a building game, and then had a little fun with the musical instruments, and soon enough Spark couldn’t help but wonder how they had ever fought in the first place.

Eventually, they decided that their next activity would be a race to the top of the jungle gym they noticed nearby. Spark was determined not to lose as it scrambled up the bars. It pulled itself paw over paw up the structure, getting closer and closer to the top, until-

Suddenly, a bar that it had been sure existed in front of it only a moment ago was now clearly just a little too far away, and the mistake caused it to reel forward, desperately clinging to the slippery bar it sat on. It twisted head over heels until it slid and fell all the way back to the ground, the wind slammed forcefully out of its little lungs.

Spark gasped soundlessly, trying and failing to pull air back into itself. After several agonizing seconds, it finally caught its breath- and then nearly got it knocked back out again by the impact of its new friend.

Regaining focus, the dark chao realized with a start that its friend was practically wailing into its chest, the soft blue creature shaking with desperate, panicked sobs. It looked up quickly, its eyes swollen and teary, and then reached out with its paws and hurriedly patted Spark’s body down, as though to reassure itself that the dark chao was still there.

The creature in question sat up and pulled its friend into a tight hug, feeling nothing less than awful as the blue chao sniffled and whimpered worriedly in its arms. Eventually, it managed to calm down enough to amble over to a small nest made of blankets especially for tired chao and lay down there next to Spark. The two chao curled up together, nuzzling gently as the shaky breaths of the blue one finally evened out.

Spark felt the little ball over its head pop into a heart shape, and noticed briefly that its friend had done the same. They remained curled up like that for the last half-hour or so of their time in the daycare, alternately simply cuddling or talking about their respective owners.

Spark hoped they’d get to spend more time with this friend of theirs soon.

…

Shadow pulled up to the daycare on his motorcycle at closing time, doing his best to smooth out his frazzled quills. It wouldn’t be very good to let his chao know that he’d been nearly as worried about it as it had felt itself.

He sighed, making his way towards the entrance of the building- and instantly felt the last wisps of his composure vanish upon seeing Sonic standing just inside. Before he could panic and flee the area at top speed, his legs (which didn’t seem to have received the message just yet) carried him through the door and inside.

Almost immediately, the blue hedgehog turned to face him with a bright smile. “Oh! Hey, Shadow!” Sonic said happily. “I didn’t know you brought your chao here, too! I’ve gotta say hi to the little guy again sometime!”

“This is my first time bringing it here. If it’s alright with that…I suppose you may.” the hybrid said, trying his best to sound coherent and cool (but actually just seeming stiff and awkward).

They talked for a little while as they waited for their chao to come out, chatting about their lives and friends. More than once, Shadow had to pinch himself in order to stay focused. His mind kept threatening to wander off into dreamland when he was around the hero, ready to admire his many great qualities (and wonderful appearance) at the drop of a hat.

Eventually, though, he became a bit worried by the fact that chao after chao were wandering out through the playroom door, being collected, and leaving…but neither Spark nor Sonic’s chao had even showed up. Soon enough, the two decided to walk into the room and find their tiny charges themselves.

“Uh, hi, mixter!” Sonic greeted the leopard who ran the daycare. “Didja see my lil’ buddy somewhere around here?”

“Oh, hello Sonic!” they said brightly- clearly the hero had been to this place quite a few times before. “Yes, your chao is over there in that nest there, sorry. I just hated to disturb those two…”

Shadow frowned. Those two?

His question was promptly answered when Sonic whisked aside the blanket covering the nest, only for both of them to stare at the sight inside.

Two purring chao, one clearly Sonic’s and the other obviously Shadow’s, were snuggled up together with big hearts floating over their heads. Even the hybrid’s dark chao, notorious for its ever-present frown, looked completely at peace with a small smile on its face.

He tried his best not to freak out.

“Erm…” Shadow began eloquently.

“Uh…” Sonic replied.

The two chao perked up at this, looking happily at their owners before nuzzling gently together in a manner that made Shadow’s stomach leap into his throat and then crash straight through the floor. In a further twist (both in events and in the striped hedgehog’s internal organs), Sonic’s chao then leapt happily into his arms, leaving Shadow to stare at the tiny version of his crush cuddling into his chest fur.

He sincerely hoped there was a convenient couch nearby for him to sit down on.

“Blu- come on-” Sonic began, looking oddly panicked for some reason, but then Spark sprang eagerly onto his shoulder and the hero rapidly fell silent as the dark chao nudged his cheek.

The two hedgehogs stared at each other for a long time. Shadow tried to move or do something other than just stand there, but it was awfully difficult when the hero was looking at him with those wide, soft green eyes….

“Er…Sonic?” Shadow finally choked out, in an odd, strained sort of tone.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’d like my chao back now.”

“Yeah.”

They each handed over their respective creatures, though Shadow felt rather reluctant to let such a tiny version of Sonic out of his arms. And for a moment he could almost have sworn that the hero held Spark a little longer than necessary, too…

…

Once he got home, the hybrid collapsed onto the couch and covered his eyes briefly with a hand. Spark, who had at first rushed into the kitchen (not having forgotten the promise of cake), came back and began to tug on his arm briefly before realizing that maybe Shadow wasn’t quite up to doing much of anything at the moment.

Rouge and Omega walked in just a moment later, their work having ended a little after Shadow’s. Upon seeing him slumped on the furniture, though, their greetings were cut short and instead replaced by worried questions.

Shadow sighed. “Spark...just spent a bunch of time cuddling with Sonic’s chao. And he noticed.”

“And that’s a good thing, hon.” Rouge shot back, having resisted a facepalm the moment she realized what all this was about.

“It is not!” the hedgehog cried out, before realizing that Spark was more than a little stressed by his tone of voice. “I’m not mad at you, don’t worry, it’s just...I already make enough of a fool of myself around him on my own. He’ll figure it out soon enough if we keep this up.”

“SO LET HIM.” Omega said. “EITHER HE STARTS DATING YOU OR HE’S AN IDIOT.”

Shadow blushed furiously. “It doesn’t work like that!”

“EXCEPT WHEN IT DOES.”

“Why don’t you tell him, hon?” Rouge asked. “I mean…” and here she developed a devious smile, “...didn’t his chao technically also act all affectionate with yours?”

The hybrid’s ears were bright green by now. “He’s nice to everyone, Rouge.”

At this point, Spark- who had left temporarily to get a pencil and paper- held up a drawing it had made of the scene at the jungle gym earlier. Shadow, of course, immediately began fussing over his chao, checking for any bruises or scrapes, but the bat in particular saw something entirely different.

“Kinda...reminds me of what happened on Space Colony ARK.” she mused.

Shadow’s head shot up at that. “What?”

Rouge smirked, but it was bittersweet this time. “Your fall...it really hurt him too, y’know? He didn’t go out in public for a long time after that.”

“He...he never mentioned that to me…”

“He wouldn’t have!” she said. “Sonic isn’t the type to ‘bother’ others with his feelings.” Rouge explained, doing air quotes at one point.

“HE ALSO STARES AT YOU WHEN YOU ARE NOT LOOKING.”

“He what?!” By now Shadow had been reduced to just looking back and forth between his two friends.

Spark flew in front of Shadow’s face and began to mime something. First pointing at Shadow, then a heart, then talking, then a hedgehog with all its quills pointed down…

“No! I can’t just tell him!”

“We’re hanging out with his team next week at the park- you should do it then.” Rouge replied, ignoring the last thing he’d just said.

“Did you not hear me, I can’t-”

“YOU WILL NEED SOMETHING NICE TO WEAR.” Omega said loudly over the rest of his sentence.

Spark cheered approvingly.

“So...you three have just decided for me whether or not I’m going to confess to Sonic.” Shadow sighed, beginning to resign himself to the fact.

“Absolutely, hon!” Rouge said brightly, slipping an arm around his shoulders.

He glowered at all three of them, but it lacked any real malice. “Alright, I’ll play along...for now.” he grumbled.

“EXCELLENT. LET THE PLANNING COMMENCE.”

…

One week later, Shadow was standing in the middle of a patch of grass, feeling like his knees were about to buckle as sweat trickled through his quills. He was no longer resigned to telling Sonic about his feelings and was in fact considering jumping into the nearby lake and hiding there for the duration of the hangout. His stomach- along with whatever scraps of resolve he may have had- were currently all the way back at their house.

On top of all that, he was frankly surprised he didn’t just spontaneously burst into flames when the other three Mobians showed up, Sonic in the lead.

“Hey guys!” he said excitedly. “Long time no see!”

Rouge snickered a bit at his catchphrase (it was one of many) but Shadow just felt his ears burn. He was just so cute and cheesy and already the hybrid’s mind was devolving into a mushy mess.

“Rouge, Omega.” he greeted them each, but he seemed to pause for a second on the last name. “...Shadow.”

The hedgehog in question thankfully managed a reply, and then the fun began in earnest. Knuckles and Shadow competed in several arm-wrestling matches with narration from Tails (“...aaaand Knuckles looks like he’s in the lead!”) and commentary from Omega (“YOU’RE LUCKY I DON’T ARM-WRESTLE OR ELSE BOTH OF YOUR ARMS WOULD BE BROKEN.”). Rouge and Sonic were busy pranking other innocent people, though once in a while the latter would look over at the competition, distracted.

Eventually, Tails and Omega got bored- which of course meant Knuckles and Shadow had to play the role of caretaker (“No, you can’t blow up trees. No, not even for ‘science’.”) for a little while.

At one point, though, Rouge got bored with the pranks and had dragged the echidna off to a park bench and was now flirting with him enough to turn his face as red as his spines. Tails had promised to behave- which now meant that he was halfheartedly attempting to convince Omega not to modify his cannon to launch ducks from the nearby pond- leaving Sonic and Shadow to themselves. Blu and Spark had been playing in the grass all this time (since both of them had brought their chao without really realizing that the other would do the same), and Shadow had very definitely not been thinking about how lucky his chao was that emotions were easy for it.

He remembered the talk his friends had given him before this outing then and wondered if maybe, just maybe, it could be that easy. Before he could stop himself, he’d already spoken.

“...Sonic?”

“Yeah?” the hero asked, turning to face Shadow.

“I...wanted to talk to you about something.” he said, regretting everything already because look how stupid he was about to seem...yet Shadow Robotnik the Hedgehog had never been one to do things by halves.

“Oh, really?” Sonic said, and now he almost looked relieved, for some reason. “I, uh, was actually hoping to do the same. That’s cool, what is it?”

“No, no, you go first.” Shadow urged him, hoping that he’d take the offer.

Unfortunately, today was not his lucky day. “No, man, you asked first! Go ahead, what was it?”

“Really- it’s fine.”

“No, you had something you wanted to say!” Sonic insisted.

“It’s okay, I swear-”

“Well, I guess-”

“I mean, if you want-”

“Okay-”

“You see-”

“I like you!”

Both hedgehogs shouted the words at the exact same time, before freezing and staring at each other.

“Wait…” Shadow began.

Sonic’s eyes were wide. “You like me back?!?” he gasped, hands flying up to his mouth.

“...yes.” he admitted, looking off to the side in embarrassment. Then it hit him. “Wait. You like me back?”

“Of course! How could I not?” Sonic asked incredulously. “You’re smart, funny, nice-” He’d begun listing off attributes while counting on his fingers, but cut himself off upon noticing Shadow’s confusion.

“Yes, but you’re a hero. The world’s hero.” Shadow began to frown, staring at the grass. “Why would you settle for someone like-”

“No.” Sonic growled, and the hybrid looked up suddenly to see his face twisted in anger. “Don’t ever say that.”

“But everyone thinks it…” Shadow protested weakly.

“Yeah, well, ‘everyone’ isn’t part of my love life.” Sonic assumed a slightly less aggressive stance, placing a hand on his hip. “Whoever’s been telling you that can either leave you alone or get their face introduced to my sneakers.”

Shadow blushed. “Nobody needed to. I just assumed...but perhaps I shouldn’t have.” he added quickly, seeing the hero begin to glower again.

“That’s right!” he said, zipping over to stand directly in front of Shadow. “No assumptions here- talk to me from now on if something’s worryin’ you, ‘kay?”

Then, he seemed to notice the sudden stiffness in the hybrid’s posture, as well as the green flush slowly creeping up his ears. Sonic leaned forward with a smirk, resting his forearm on Shadow’s shoulder. “Thinkin’ about something?”

Shadow gulped.

For once, he decided that he could do what he wanted. So, he slowly reached up a hand and touched the peach fur on Sonic’s arm gently, like it was the most delicate thing in the world.

Rather more quickly, Sonic turned a shade of bright red to rival Omega’s paint job.

“So, uh…” he began, his voice shaky. “Erm...do ya feel like sitting under that tree? Together?”

Shadow agreed, and the two walked over to the shady patch, sitting down and resting against each other. Soon enough, though, Sonic turned to face Shadow, a little nervous. “Do we, like, need to talk about this? Figure out...what to do about…us?” He started turning pink again.

“Maybe later. We have a lot of time, after all.” Shadow said, trying to contain the soaring feeling inside when Sonic said ‘us’- until he realized that he didn’t have to any longer.

“What’re you smiling about?”

“You. And me. Together.” Shadow said simply, making Sonic laugh and snuggle up against him, resting his head on a black-furred shoulder.

“Wow. That’s, uh….that’s new. I really like it though.”

Then, the hero looked up at him. “I really like you, too.”

At this point, a loud whistle could be heard from Rouge, who was standing not too far off and had likely heard a lot of what they’d said. Sonic just giggled, while Shadow shot her a death glare. She just winked and mouthed I’ll keep them occupied, at which point the hybrid tried not to show how very much he appreciated that and failed miserably.

And Sonic was purring now. Which of course meant that every single brain cell in Shadow’s head was promptly dead for the next five minutes.

After he’d recovered from that, Shadow wrapped his arms tightly around his...boyfriend? Maybe? He thought for a moment. “Hey, Sonic?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you feel about being my-” Shadow paused briefly to cough, trying to get the words out- “-boyfriend?”

“I think I like that a lot.”

Shadow smiled warmly, feeling the beginnings of a purr rise up in his own chest.

“I like that a lot, too. Almost as much as I like you.”

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #sonic the hedgehog #happy birthday shadow and rouge!!#these two are the best #i swear i panicked when i realized that their birthday was today and not the 21st haha #me: has never actually fully raised a chao in-game #also me: *throws in made-up chao facts like i know what i'm talking about*#also all names for shadow's chao are valid this is just the one that i personally picked #hopefully everyone enjoyed being blasted by 7500 words of fluff :)#(and hurt/comfort of course)#i liked writing the part where it was like #blu and spark: *speedrun enemies to friends*#sonic and shadow: *PANIC*#just checking: is the term 'mixter' alright for a lengthened version of 'mx.'? i've seen it before but don't know for sure #this is my second attempt writing proper sonadow hopefully it was alright #:D #as always suggestions for how to improve my writing are more than appreciated!#sol's fanfiction

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love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Faebruary: Fake Dating

M Faerie X F human, 7,922 words

You guys remember this post? Well, here’s the story it was based on. A human gets lost in the Faerie world, and her only hope of getting back home safe is agreeing to go on a date with one smug Faerie boy. Hope you enjoy!

Admittedly, this was probably something you should have seen coming when you stepped into a fairy ring.

It was stupid. Everyone said you weren’t supposed to step inside the little circles of mushrooms that sprouted up all over the hills. But it was just stupid. Fairies weren’t real. So when there had been a circle of mushrooms across your path, you had just walked toward it.

The instant your foot crossed the line, there was a sickening spinning feeling in your stomach. Your foot plunged down like you’d missed a step in the dark and you fell into a swirling sea of mist.

You came to spitting out leaves, though you couldn’t remember hitting the ground. It was as if the ground had materialized against your face. Slowly, you staggered upright.

There was no longer sunlight. The forest was full of mist. And the trees seemed much more closely clustered than they had before. Their bark was darker, their branches more gnarled and reaching.

It was deathly silent. You wrapped your jacket closer around yourself. “Hello?” you called. Your voice died a foot from your throat. It was like the mist absorbed the sound.

Several feet in front of you, a pale blue light blinked into being.

“Hey!” you called. “I’m over here!” The blue light winked and bobbed, then began to shrink into the distance. You plunged through the foliage after it.

No matter how fast you ran, the light seemed to be permanently ahead of you. It sped up as you went onward until you were flat-out sprinting to keep up.

“I wouldn’t follow the light if I were you.”

You skidded to a stop, feet skidding on the damp leaves. The voice had come from somewhere above you. Squinting in the dim light, you could make out a figure crouching in the tree branches. Lightning fast, the figure leaped, vanishing into the mists.

“Fuck!” you swore, looking around. The figure was gone. It had moved so fast you hadn’t even been able to see where it had gone. Frantic, you looked for the blue light. Had it gotten away while you were looking at the figure?

“You’re not going to lose the light.” The voice came from behind and above you this time. You whipped toward it. The figure was pointing into the distance. Following the finger, you could see the gentle gleam of blue light bobbing there, like it was waiting.

An unsettled crawling feeling moved up your spine. “How did you know it was going t be there?”

Details of the figure were impossible to make out in the dim lighting, but you could hear that he was grinning. “Because will-O-the-wisps are nothing if not predictable.”

He punctuated his sentence by leaping from the tree and coming to a crouched landing in front of you.

You stared. What had landed in front of you was not human. He looked vaguely human, even handsome, by some definitions. A strong, though narrow, jaw, sharp nose, black hair that was teased back into a carefully disheveled style. But he was dressed in odd clothes, the sort of thing you’d expect from an old English court, and he had a tail. A long, thin tail that weaved and twisted behind him like it was caught in a current. And he had antlers, small, but pronounced antlers.

“I forgot,” he said. “Mortals are so often stunned into silence when they see the natural splendor of the Fair Folk.”

That made you find your tongue. “What are you?”

His smirk vanished. “There was a time when mortals were rightfully respectful of us. If you had half a head of sense, you would be on your knees, begging for mercy.”

There was a pause, as if he was waiting for you to do so. You didn’t, though you kept your mouth cautiously shut. He snorted. “I’m a Fae. One of the Fair Folk. And you, little mortal, are utterly trapped in the Faerie lands.”

“Trapped?” you repeated. An icy cold stone dropped into your stomach.

The Faerie grinned. “Now you see the truth of your situation. Yes. You’re trapped. Unless you convince a Faerie to let you go, you’ll be trapped in this land for all eternity.” He swept closer to you. “And this place is not safe for lone mortals. There are things here that would make you wish the will-O-the-wisp would have dragged you down into its bog and stripped the meat from your bones.”

You couldn’t repress a shudder. The Fae noticed and his smile grew wider. “I assume you’re telling me this for a reason,” you said, keeping your eyes on him.

“Me?” he said, pressing a hand to his chest, the picture of faux-innocence. “I want to show you the way out. You do want to go home, do you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Uh huh. And I’m assuming you want something in return.”

His lips curled. “Figures the one thing humans wouldn’t forget about a Faerie is that we like even trades. It would make things so much easier.” He ruffled his fingers through his hair, carefully avoiding his antlers. “Yes. If you would like me to guide you out of the Faerie world, then I will need something in return.”

He didn’t continue. You narrowed your eyes at him. “And what is that?”

He huffed out a sigh. “Not going to write me a blank check, hm? Fine. If I am going to lead you out of here, I need you to agree to attend a Faerie party with me.”

That threw you for a loop. “You want me to what?”

“Attend a party with me,” he said, grinning at your confusion.

“That’s it?” you asked. He nodded.

“One night, twelve hours, at a party with me,” he said. “All I need is for you to attend as my date.”

That seemed far too good to be true. “Is this a trick? Some kind of way to trap me or humiliate me or otherwise coerce me into staying?”

The Faerie rolled his eyes. “Are all humans so suspicious? No. I just need a date.”

“Why don’t you pick a Faerie, then?” you asked.

“Because I think you would piss of my parents the most,” he said.

You lifted one of your eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

He waved a hand. “Neither. I just need a mortal. That would completely ruin their night.”

There was genuine venom in his voice when he said it. You stared at him, struck dumb. How old was he? You mentally reassessed him. His age was sort of difficult to determine. There was an unearthly beauty to him, no sign of the sort of little imperfections that come around with age. But if you looked really closely, studied the lines of his face, he looked like someone barely out of his teenage years. Maybe nineteen, or at least the Faerie equivalent. You held back a snort. At least maturity wise, you were probably around two years older than he was.

The Faerie drew himself up haughtily, apparently taking your silence as some sort of agreement. “You must state your agreement out loud. It will be a Faerie agreement, so there will be no going back on your deal.” He smiled unpleasantly. “Backing out of a Faerie deal is not a good idea, especially for a fragile mortal.”

You eyed him cautiously. There was still a chance he was trying to trick you or coerce you or trying to do something else of the sort. But, given how young he seemed, you were somewhat less inclined to suspicion. The longer you spent with him, the more affected his persona seemed. It was the posturing of someone who had just been given their first taste of power and was still unsure how to properly use it.

“All right,” you said. “How do we make an agreement?”

The Faerie smiled smugly and extended a hand. Several of his fingers were clad with large, heavy rings, inset with black gems. All of them bore a triangular symbol. “Take my hand.” He said it like it was some sort of great favor to you. You did so. His fingers felt oddly sharp under his skin, slender and bony. “Now. The stipulations of this deal are that I will return you to the human world, to your home. In exchange for this, you will attend a dance with me as my date. You will be my date for twelve hours, over one night. Once the night is over, I will return you home again.”

“I have stipulations,” you said, forcing your voice to be confident. He lifted an eyebrow, but allowed your to continue. “While I am your guest, you will not conspire against me in any way. You will not allow me to come to any harm, nor will you attempt to trap me here once more. If I am harmed in any way, the deal is null and void and you will return me home immediately.”

The Faerie wrinkled his nose. “I would not allow my date to be harmed. Even if you are a mortal, the rules of hospitality still apply to you.”

“And you won’t allow me to unknowingly do anything that could harm me,” you added. The Faerie gave you a sarcastic look.

“Are you finished?” he drawled. You hesitated, trying to wrack your brain for anything else you might need. Nothing came immediately to mind.

“Yes. I’m finished,” you said, however suspiciously. The Faerie grinned.

“Then the deal is struck.” His voice seemed to boom through the forest. A tingling sensation ran across the back of your hand, then it sharpened into a piercing sting, like an insect was biting the back of your hand. You yelped, but the Faerie held onto your hand firmly.

The sting faded and the Faerie released your fingers. You shook your hand, trying to get the blood to flow through it again. On the back of your hand, imprinted as neatly on your skin as a tattoo, was a black marking. It was a circle, emblazoned with some kind of angular sigil.

“It marks our bargain,” the Faerie said, showing you his own hand. He was similarly marked, though his brand was bright purple. “Should either of us break it, the mark will sink into our skin, and we shall endure some sort of tragedy.” He smiled, all needle-sharp teeth and cruelty. “So be certain that you do not break it.”

“I won’t,” you said, voice flinty. The Faerie looked amused by your anger.

“Then I shall fulfill my bargain first,” he said. He held out his arm to you, as if he was escorting you to a party rather than freeing you from an alien realm. “Shall we go?”

You hesitated, but he had made a promise. And you had also heard that Faeries couldn’t lie. You took a deep breath and linked your arm through his. “Yes.”

The Faerie took a step forward and the ground tilted under your feet. The mist billowed out obscuring your vision. The only thing that seemed real was the Faerie next to you. Your grip on him tightened, despite yourself.

“Move,” the Faerie said into your ear. You took an uncertain step forward. The mist had covered the ground so thickly that it looked like you were walking on clouds. When you took a step forward, the ground seemed to spin under your feet, like you were covering more distance than you should have been. You felt dizzy, but the Faerie moved forward with uncompromising speed and pulled you along. Only a few steps later, the mist had disoriented you so much that you couldn’t tell where anything was. The world seemed to be spinning around you even when you weren’t moving. You needed to cling to the Faerie’s arm to stay on your feet.

Sunlight pierced through the trees and you squinted your eyes shut. The mist evaporated within seconds and you were standing once more in your familiar forest, blinking up into the bright light.

“And my part of the bargain has been fulfilled.” The Faerie looked no less alien and beautiful in the human world. He grinned at you. “Home again, exactly where you were taken.”

You were still clinging to his arm, you realized. Slowly, you unwound your fingers from his shirt and stepped away.

“I shall return for you on the night of the Winter Ball.”

“Which is when?” you asked.

“The full moon next. I shall find you proper garments.” He gave you a critical once over, indicating that he wasn’t optimistic about your chances of finding them yourself. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “We will meet again then.”

Mist rolled across your vision. When it melted away again, he was gone. You stared at the spot for a moment, then looked down at your hand. The marking was still there, as starkly black as it had been before. At least it was proof that you hadn’t made it up. With a final glance at the Faerie ring a few feet away, you turned and headed out of the forest.

The sun’s position told you that you should have arrived back a few hours after you left. Your arrival home informed you that was actually a day and a few hours since you’d left. Your mother left you with a lecture ringing in your ears, one that had only gotten more aggressive when she’d seen the marking on the back of your hand. No matter what you said, there was no way to convince her that you hadn’t gotten drunk, gotten a tattoo, and passed out in the woods somewhere. Admittedly, you were a little disheveled. Once you had freed yourself from her grasp, you slipped up to your room and checked your calendar.

The next full moon was just over a week away. You marked it off on your calendar and took a deep breath. Right. Time to start prepping.

Your week was filled with pawing through old books and scouring the internet for every scrap of Faerie lore that you could find. By the time the full moon had rolled around, you had gathered as many supplies as you could find.

You were waiting in your room uncertainly when the full moon rose. The Faerie had told you he would find you, but did you need to be outside for it?

Before you could make any decisions on it, the moonlight filtering through your window thickened into a sheet of silver. It rippled and the Faerie stepped out of it like a doorway.

Unfairly, he looked even more handsome than he had when you’d met in the woods. He was dressed in silvery clothes, a flowing robe and cloak with a silvery ruff. His tail and ears were adorned with silver bangles, a choker pressed tight to his throat, and his horns were covered in silvery strands, like tinsel.

“You could have freshened up a little more,” he said, giving you a once-over. You gritted your teeth and one of your hands went to the little bag you had tied to your waist, hidden securely under your shirt. It was filled with salt and little pieces of iron. More iron and salt packets lined the inside of your clothes and you had strapped an iron knife to the inside of your thigh. A string of rowan berries was tied at your neck. With any fortune, those charms would be enough to drive off any cruel Faeries.

“I thought you were going to provide me with the garments you found appropriate,” you said in a clipped voice.

“Only because mortals unilaterally lack taste,” he said. “There’s really only so much I can do.” He stepped back and gave a broad gesture toward the shaft of moonlight. “We only have an hour before the Ball starts. Hopefully that’s enough time to make you presentable.”

You drew yourself up and stepped through the portal of light. A chill rolled over your skin, like you had stepped through a cloud of mist.

One of your feet struck a tiled floor and you stopped. The moonlight faded into a tall, ice-white room with an arched ceiling and silvery lights decorating the walls. You paused to take in the décor and the Faerie walked into your back.

“Excuse me,” he snapped, glaring at you. You glared back. “Follow me. I have a dress picked out for you.”

He led you into a small room. A curtain divided it in half and there was a dress draped over a chair. It was gauzy and made of pale blues, silvers, and white. “Put it on. One of the servants will do your hair.”

“Servants?” you said, but he had already swept back out of the room. You sighed and picked up the dress. At least it wasn’t overly elaborate.

You slipped hurriedly into the dress. It was clearly simpler than his outfit, with far less adornment. Perhaps mortals weren’t allowed to wear as much finery as Faeries, or perhaps he just didn’t want you to outshine him. Either way, you were grateful for anything that made the outfit easier to wear.

The servants, as it turned out, were small, fluttering creatures that did your hair in a quick, simple style, a braid that was wound at the nape of your neck and secured with a silver pin. You caught a glance of yourself in a silver reflection. The dress emphasized your curves and complimented your skin tone. Your beauty wasn’t stunning, but it was simple and understated.

As soon as the servants departed, the Faerie was sweeping back into the room, cape swirling around his body. He looked you up and down. “Well, you can clean up nicely,” he said. You caught the way his eyes lingered on you. The faintest hint of a blush colored his cheeks, but then he was turning away. “Come. We need to hurry to arrive on time.”

You picked up your skirts and hurried down the hall after him. Thankfully the shimmering heels you wore were short, so it was not so difficult to walk in them. “I still don’t know your name,” you said as you caught up with him. His gaze shifted to yours suspiciously. Names were important to Faeries, you had read. Clearly, he was trying to determine if you knew that or if you were speaking in ignorance.

Finally, he spoke. “You may not have my name, but you may call me Elwain.” He tilted his head slightly toward you. “And yours?”

You told him, mimicking his wording. It was hard to tell if his expression was disappointed or not. He just strode out of the front door and onto the front steps.

Outside was all greenery, and pale, twinkling lights. Elwain led you down the steps and toward a skeletal white horse. You shivered when its pale eyes turned to you. Its mane and tail rippled and flickered like it was made of mist. There was an elegant saddle attached to its back and Elwain easily gripped the reins and pulled himself up onto its back. You hesitated, uncertain of how to climb on. You’d never ridden a horse before.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Elwain said. You glared at him. He merely rolled his eyes and extended a hand. You gripped it. His fingers were strong and steady against yours as he pulled you up into the saddle behind him. Your hands moved automatically to his waist. A flicker of something moved through your stomach before you quashed it.

The horse took off, hooves striking the ground with a sound like metal clanging. You lurched into Elwain’s back, fingers tightening at his waist. His breath caught for a moment, though you weren’t sure if it was actually your grip causing it.

The ride was swift and rocky. You were pressed awkwardly to Elwain’s back for most of it, leaning against him with every motion of the mount.

You were expecting to stop at another house, some sort of grand mansion like the one you’d left from. Instead, you stopped outside a grove of trees. They were covered in twinkling lights and noises of whooping celebration echoed through the air.

Elwain dismounted flawlessly. You twisted, attempting to copy his elegant motion. Your foot caught in the stirrup. With a stomach-flipping jolt, you stumbled.

A hand braced itself between your shoulder blades. The back of your head impacted a chest. You tilted your gaze backward. The upside-down face of Elwain stared back at you. “Mortals,” he sighed. “Hold onto me.” He shifted his position so you could get your arms around his neck. That fluttering feeling of attraction started in your chest again as he balanced you against his shoulder and reached down to undo your foot from its catch in the stirrup.

As soon as your leg was free, he lifted you up, carrying you away from the horse. “Are you all right?” he asked. You could feel his breath against your cheek. Your faces were right next to each other.

“I’m fine,” you said. There was a slight catch in your voice. A pink flush worked across Elwain’s face and he deposited you on the ground once more.

“Then we should go.” He looked at you for a moment, then sighed and reached out and fiddled with the choker at your neck. His fingers traced lightly over your skin. Your breath caught.

“There. Better,” he said, drawing himself up. “Take my arm. Stay close to me. Avoid eating anything. Take nothing from anyone. Do you understand?”

You nodded. “I understand.” You looped your arm through his. He looked at you for a moment longer, then turned toward the entrance of the party.

Music filtered through the air as you stepped through the grove of trees. It was odd, but alluring. It reminded you of lights shifting on walls, the tone constantly changing with odd trills throughout, but it was still beautiful. You shook your head, refocusing.

People swirled around you as you entered the clearing. They were strange, dressed in flowing robes and bright jewels that hung from tails and horns. As odd as it all was, it was hard to tear your eyes away. Everything was kaleidoscopic, mesmerizing.

“Try not to look,” Elwain said. His voice was less than an inch from your ear. “Mortal minds struggle to comprehend the true nature of Faeries.” You lowered your gaze to the ground.

Elwain led you onward, across the forest floor, toward the center of the throng. Bright lights fell on you and you squinted against them. “Announcing the Silver Son, Elwain Corridale, and his mortal consort!”

There was a sudden burst of murmuring, chittering, and general commotion. You lifted your chin, meeting the gazes of the Faeries who were looking at you with interest. Across the clearing, you could see two people, similarly beautiful and draped in clothes similar to Elwain’s, glaring. Presumably Elwain’s parents. You stared resolutely back at them.

The lights shifted away from you, but you could feel the gazes of the crowd on you regardless as Elwain led you over to the edge of the grove.

“Those two strict looking people your parents?” you asked out of the corner of your mouth.

“Yes,” Elwain whispered back. “Charming, aren’t they?” There was a sarcastic bite to his voice.

“I’m assuming you don’t get along,” you said. You were deliberately not looking at them, but you could feel their cool gazes on you. Elwain snorted.

“No. We don’t.” His gaze flicked over to them, eyes narrowed. “They seem quite irritated, do they not?” There was a note of distinct pleasure in his voice. His pale, inviting lips quirked into a small smile.

“They do,” you said cautiously. “Because you’re with a mortal?”

“Indeed.” He caught your curious gaze and rolled his eyes. “I suppose I shall have to sate your curiosity now?”

“Unless you have something better to do,” you said. “It doesn’t seem like it, considering that you’re hiding in a corner in the middle of a party.”

His gaze snapped over to you, lips curling. “You are especially irritating, even for a mortal, you know?” he said. You just looked at him steadily. He huffed out a sigh and looked back out at the dance floor. “We have not been getting along for a while.”

He lapsed into silence and you waited for a moment. “Why not?” you pressed when his was clear he was not going to be forthcoming with the answers.

Elwain grimaced. “I am the oldest of my family, set to inherit their wealth and land and the responsibility of keeping the family name out of the mud and in good standing. I’d much rather not have the responsibility. My younger sibling would be far better at taking the helm, but I am the eldest, so it falls to me, regardless of whether or not I want it, or would even be particularly good at it.” A sharp, cold grin crossed his face. “My parents have been so insistent that I take the position, regardless of my own feelings, so I figured that aggressively smearing the family name would, at the very least, piss them off. If they won’t change their decision, I can make them regret it.” He laughed. It was sharp and brittle, almost like a crow’s caw. Despite yourself, you smirked. Elwain caught your expression. “You seem… pleased.”

“It’s funny,” you admitted. “And I can get behind the idea of spiting your parents.”

Elwain’s smile shifted. It was a subtle thing, just a twitch of his lips and a smoothing of his brows, but it altered his entire expression. There was genuine happiness in his face, and his ethereal beauty melted into something gentler and more boyish. Your stomach gave a little flip. “You’re not irritated?” he asked, and there was genuine curiosity in his voice. “Mortals always seem to get awfully huffy about being used by Faeries.”

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t irritated. But I understand,” you said. You cast your gaze over at his parents again. The man was talking to someone with enormous antlers and strange, twisting legs, but his mother was glaring at you. Her gaze was like ice. It took all your will to repress a shiver. “Would you like to dance?”

Elwain gave you a surprised look. “You’d like to dance?”

“Better than standing off to one side. And if we’re going to try to be convincing to your parents, we’ll need to put on a better show than this.” Elwain’s surprise melted into an expression of amusement. His arm tightened on yours.

“Certainly. Wonderful point. Shall we?” He pulled you out onto the dance floor, threading you through the Faeries that were already out there. You ended up roughly toward the center. Some Faeries, the ones you figured were lower-class, avoided you, while others completely ignored your presence. Elwain stopped and turned to you, one hand settling on your waist, the other hand gripping yours. “Will you be able to keep up?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

You grinned back, mimicking his sharp grin. “Try me.”

The music was fast and energetic as you started to move. The beat was bouncing, easy to keep track of. Elwain led and you followed easily. Together, you swirled and weaved around the other couples.

Elwain’s hand shifted on your waist, tugging you closer to him. His fingers interlaced with yours. The beat of the music thrummed through your body, pounding in time with your heart. You were tepidly aware of other people around you, but you paid them no mind. Instead, you focused on Elwain’s face above yours, the slight knit of his brow as he focused on each dance move.

The music came to a stop. You blinked. It was as if you were stepping out of a trance, or waking from a dream. Your body was pressed against Elwain’s, almost chest to chest. With every step, you had drawn closer to each other. Your head was tilted sharply back to still look him in his face. His lips were parted slightly, and you found yourself tracing the curve of his mouth with your eyes. His fingers were tight on your lower back, tangled in the fabric of your dress.

“You’re better than I thought you’d be,” Elwain said. There was still that little edge to his voice, but it was wavering, as if it was a struggle to keep it up. He was panting a little, and you weren’t sure if it was actually from the exertion or not.

“So are you,” you said. You were staring up into his eyes. His pupils were large, endless and abyssal. He let out a slow, shuddering breath. His grip on your back loosened.

As you broke apart, you became aware of the gazes that rested upon you. Half the Faeries on the dance floor around you were staring, only swaying vaguely as a pretense for dancing. “Take a bow,” Elwain said, the edge of his mouth lifting into a smile. He swept out an arm and you mimicked him before bending low into a deep bow.

There was some scattered applause as you departed the dance floor, returning to your original place. Elwain was smiling in a smug, self-satisfied way. “I’m fulfilling my end of the bargain, yes?” you asked in an undertone.

Elwain looked down at you. “You’re certainly more effective than I thought you would be,” he said. “I can’t quite remember the last time I’ve had such a good time at a party.”

“I think I’ll take that as a compliment,” you decided.

“Good,” Elwain said. His voice quieted a little and sincerity blossomed in his tone. “I meant it as one.”

Before you could fully register what he’d said, Elwain’s mother came sweeping across the room toward you. She looked regal and fine, like a sculpture carved out of ice, her eyes blazing with cold fire. Her blonde hair was twisted into a tight bun, set in place with a silver, diamond-encrusted comb.

“Mother,” Elwain said. His voice was chilly enough to provoke a shiver, but you lifted your chin and stared defiantly back as his mother looked you up and down. Her lip curled and she gave you a clear look of disapproval.

“My son,” she said. Her voice hit like a whip. It took some willpower to avoid flinching. “I would like to speak to you for a moment.” It was clearly not a suggestion.

“Of course,” Elwain said, his voice measured and polite. He turned to you and fixed you with a smile. It was startlingly warm and your stomach flipped over. You bit your tongue, trying to kick the feeling away. No. Bad. Don’t start catching feelings for this guy. Elwain bent at the waist, drawing one of your hands up to his lips. His mouth brushed delicately along your knuckles. “I will return. Wait for me.”

His mother’s expression became icier and more remote, but she said nothing as she and Elwain stepped away from you. They moved to somewhere still within your eyesight, but out of earshot. You could tell they were having an intense, whispered conversation, and you could guess that you were the topic, but you couldn’t catch any details.

You were so distracted, trying to catch a whisper of their conversation, that you didn’t notice the Faerie at your side until he had grabbed your arm.

“Little mortal,” he crooned. He was pretty, so much so that it was uncanny to look at. You tried to pull your arm free from his, but his fingers were sharp and immovable as solid wood. He tugged on you, dragging you slowly but undeniably toward the dance floor.

“Little mortals shouldn’t be all alone in Faerie,” he said. His voice bounced around the inside of your head, banging off the sides of your skull until your brain was suffused by ringing noise. It was dizzying. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

He was dragging you steadily toward the dance floor. Memories of your studies screamed alarms at you. Mortals trapped in swirling Faerie dances, unable to stop even as their feet bled and their muscles strained with exhaustion. Already, you could hear the enchanting, piping music. Your brain was fuzzing. One of your hands scrabbled for the cold iron pendant under your dress, but your fingers felt clumsy. You couldn’t resist. Why did you even want to resist? The music was so beautiful, leaping through your veins, and it would be so amazing to just be able to dance…

Someone’s hand caught yours. You staggered to a stop, the fog retreating from your brain. The Faerie snarled, dropping his grip on you.

“I would thank you not to try and steal my date,” Elwain said. His voice was freezing. Even with the full force of it turned on someone else, you couldn’t stop yourself from shivering. The Faerie that had tried to grab you shrank back.

“Of course, if I had known the mortal was yours, I would have left her alone,” the Faerie said, ducking his head and backing away. “Apologies, my lord.” He scrambled back into the crowd, melting away.

Elwain glared after him until he was gone, then turned to you, offering his arm. “Are you all right?”

You took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself. “Fine.”

“I did tell you to avoid the other Fae,” he said in a scolding tone. You glared at him.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” you said. “He ambushed me.” With Elwain’s arm around yours, the music that had been scrambling your brain seemed distant. He led you back across the room. His fingers were tight on your arm. Even when you were a safe distance away from the other Fae, he didn’t release you.

“Maybe we should stay somewhere else, for now,” he said. He picked his way through the crowd to a gap between the trees and worked his way through them.

It took only a few moments to get to the edge of the forest. The sky overhead was filled with more stars than you’d ever seen. You could even see the gradation of color from the deep navy blue at its zenith to the faint, almost purple color at the edges.

Elwain released your arm and closed his eyes. His expression fell. Suddenly, he looked exhausted and wan. You hesitated before asking, “Did everything go all right with your mother?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “She was most displeased,” he said in a haughty tone that suggested he was mimicking her. “Most displeased indeed that I was disgracing the family name by dallying with a mortal.” He rolled his eyes. “You would think she didn’t have mortal blood in her family.”

“She does?” you said. Elwain lifted a shoulder in a moody shrug.

“Most Faeries do, even the nobility. The Queen is rumored to have mortal blood in her lineage, even. Our own reproductive ability is poor. Mortals are much better at breeding. It’s not uncommon for a Faerie to marry another Faerie and sire all his children with one of his mortal servants.”

“Then why is it such a problem to be with me?” Elwain gave you a look that suggested you were either very thick or very naïve.

“You’re allowed to breed with a mortal, but you’re not supposed to treat them as an equal. You’re certainly not supposed to date one, or show her off as your partner. Breeding with mortals is more of an open secret. Actually marrying a mortal would be a huge drop in status, and as the oldest son of my family, it would be a scandal if I even married a Faerie of lower status, much less a mortal.”

“That’s why you thought I would piss off your parents,” you said. “You’re putting your family status in jeopardy.”

Elwain nodded. “Yes. They’re so concerned about my family name, I figured putting it under threat will at least get some kind of reaction.” There was an undercurrent of vindictiveness in his voice. “Perhaps it will at least get them to see that I am a living person and not just a walking vessel for carrying on their line.”

Without thinking, you put a hand on his shoulder. He went stiff, staring at you. “Glad I could help with that. It sounds like a worthy cause. I’m all for pissing off shitty parents.”

Elwain looked at you with an unreadable expression. Then his mouth twitched and he smiled. “Well, then. We should get back and do it some more, shouldn’t we?” He reached up and took your hand off his shoulder. Instead of hooking your hand into the crook of his arm, as he had been doing, he kept it in his hand.

There was a faint whistling noise. Something whizzed by your ear and made a dull ‘thunk’ as it embedded itself in the tree trunk behind you.

Your ear was stinging. You reached up and touched it. Your hand came away bloody.

“Get down!” Elwain pulled you into the bushes. His body was nearly on top of yours, pressing you down into the undergrowth. One of his hands pressed against the small of your back.

“Someone’s shooting at us!” you said redundantly. Elwain lifted his head slightly, trying to get a look around the brush. Another arrow whizzed by, slamming into the ground less than an inch from your hand.

Elwain made to grab it and yanked his hand back with a hiss. You could smell sizzing flesh. “It’s cold iron,” he said. “They’re for killing Faeries.” Horror crept into his voice. “They’re here to kill me.”

Another arrow plunged into the ground. This one was less than an inch from one of Elwain’s hands. “We need to move before they get a shot!” you said. “I can distract them, then you can run.”

“Wait! That may not be a good ide-” Before Elwain could finish his protest, you pushed your way out of the bush you’d hidden in and plunged blindly into the woods.

There were several more whistling thunks as arrows rained down on you. One of them ripped its way through the skirt of your dress and you had to pause and wrench it free. When you lifted your gaze to start running again, a shadowy figure descended from the trees in front of you.

They were entirely wrapped in black, so their features were difficult to make out, except for the fact that they were tall and skinny. A hand clapped down on your shoulder, right at the junction of your neck. It was cold, with needle-sharp fingers.

“Little mortal,” they crooned. “We were only told to kill the Faerie. With you, we can do whatever we please.” One of their fingers stroked along your cheek. Your mind fogged. “Wouldn’t you like to be my little plaything? We would have so much fun together. Or perhaps it would be funny for that little lordling to die by your hands? What a fitting death for the mortal lover.”

One of your hands went under your dress. Your brain was fuzzy, but your mind cleared as your fingers brushed your string of rowan berries. Still, you kept your gaze as unfocused as possible. Your other hand was creeping under the back of your dress. Your cold iron knife burned against your thigh. “Call out to him,” the Faerie said. “He’ll come for you, and then we’ll see how he fares when his little pet bites back-”

The Faerie had no chance to react. The knife ripped free from its sheath and you wrenched it up then down in a plunging arc. The blade tore into his chest. The smell of burning meat filled the air around you. Flesh sizzled as you ripped the knife down, carving open his belly.

The Faerie’s expression turned from gloating to terror. He staggered back, hands clamped to his gut. His motion wrenched the knife free from your hand, leaving it embedded in his stomach. He fumbled for it once, twice, before pulling it out of him. A gout of blood poured from the wound, soaking through his black clothes and puddling in the dirt.

He collapsed sideways on the ground. He was still breathing. You could hear the soft, wheezing gasps as he struggled for air. Gradually, the breaths became garbled, gurgling. He coughed, body spasming. Something warm and wet was soaking your feet. You didn’t want to look down. There was so much blood around him, more blood than you’d thought could be in a person.

It took a few moments to realize that the gurgling had stopped.

Something crashed through the bushes behind you. You whirled, lifting your second weapon in your hand. It was smaller, blunter, but maybe if you cracked them over the head, you could stun them for long enough you get away-

“Watch yourself. It’s only me,” Elwain said. He emerged into a shaft of moonlight. His long cloak was hanging in tatters from his shoulder and there were smears of muck and dirt across his face and clothes. His hair was in complete disarray. His gaze traveled up and down your body. “You’re bleeding.”

“No,” you said, stepping back to reveal the body on the ground behind you, “I’m not.”

There was a cold pause. Elwain looked between the body and you several times, as if trying to reconcile the evidence. Finally, he stepped past you and knelt next to the body.

“Cold iron,” he said, his tone unreadable. “I should have searched you before bringing you here. I figured humans had largely forgotten all the old methods.”

“If you had searched me, he would have killed me and then you,” you said in a chilly voice.

“A fair enough point,” Elwain said, albeit a touch reluctantly. “You are far more clever than I gave you credit for.” He rustled with the body a bit more, then went still, sucking in a sharp breath.

“What?” you said, leaning over his shoulder. He lifted a silvery pendant, dangling it from a chain around his fingers.

“I recognize this,” he said in a hollow voice. “My family crest.”

You stared at the little triangular that dangled from the chain. “He was from your family.”

“Sent by them, at least. The crest marks him as one of our assassins.” His voice caught. It was only the slightest of noises, something that you almost didn’t notice. For a moment, his expression crumpled. He took in a swift, choked breath and his face smoothed over. His eyes were still distant, staring absently ahead.

You reached out and squeezed his hand. His fingers tightened on yours with crushing force. “I’m sorry.”

He breathed deeply. “We need to go. If there’s one, there will be more.” He fumbled with the ties of his cloak. It dropped into the foliage. He was turning to you in a moment, fingers sliding along your bodice. You yelped quietly as he tugged free some of the outer layers of your dress, leaving a shift that would be far easier to run in. Despite the danger, you found yourself focusing on the skim of his fingers against your skin.

“Where are we going?” you asked as Elwain started to tug you through the trees.

He skidded to a stop, gaze darting wildly. “I- I don’t know.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. His expression was lost, uncertain. There was nowhere for him to go, you realized. His family was gone. He was being chased by assassins. His life was gone.

Fine. You would take over. “Go back to the mortal world,” you said. “It’ll at least shake them off your tail for a while.”

Elwain blinked at you, expression clearing. His fingers tightened on yours and he picked up into a run. Within a few steps, you were staggering to a stop in a mortal forest.

“They probably won’t come after me,” Elwain said. “They won’t want to draw the attention of mortals. And as long as I’m here, I’m out of their way.” He blinked slowly. “I have been exiled from Faerie on pane of death.” His voice was hollow, weak.

You leaned against him, trying to comfort him. “I’m so sorry.”

Elwain tossed his head back and laughed. It was a sharp, grating laugh, nearly inhuman. Your hair stood on end hearing it. “I knew my family had executed political irritants before,” he said between choked breaths, “but I never realized they would count me among the number!”

His laughter broke, turned into wracking sobs. He swayed into your side, pressing his face into your shoulder. You rubbed his back helplessly.

It took some time before he lifted his head again. He looked significantly less magnificent in his tattered clothes, with his eyes bloodshot and puffy. There was something oddly endearing about it, though. “I don’t know where to go,” he said in a quiet voice. “I have never had to stay in the mortal world before.”

“You can stay with me,” you said. “But you’re going to have to pull your weight.”

He looked at you archly, drawing himself up in a way that could have made him look impressive, except the effect was ruined by his running makeup. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

You smiled. “You’re going to have to get a job.”

Two weeks later, Elwain came stumbling into the house and fell face-first onto the couch.

“How was work?” you asked. Elwain let out a tortured groan. “That good, huh?”

“Every day I work there and don’t curse someone is a miracle,” he said, voice still muffled in the cushions.

“I mean, you’re doing pretty good. And the tip money is really something,” you said. It was odd to see Elwain in a cheap fast-food uniform, but even that couldn’t dampen his unearthly attractiveness. There had been a small gaggle of people who’d been leaving generous tips along with some suggestive compliments.

Elwain crawled across the couch and planted his head in your lap. You drew your fingers slowly through his hair. “I don’t see why I have to work a job. I could glamour a few stones into diamonds and we would be set for life.”

You snorted. “The illusion would wear off and selling diamonds isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is. If you’re going to live in the mortal world, you need to live like a mortal.”

Elwain rolled his eyes. “You are a slave driver.”

“Yeah, I’m so cruel,” you laughed. “Maybe next time, I’ll let the assassins get you.”

Elwain sat up. His face had a tendency to flush patchily, with red spreading unevenly over his skin. It was oddly humanizing. “It was rather impressive, that move with the knife under your dress,” he said. “You were far more clever than I gave you credit for.”

“Thank you,” you said, a little smug. “Us mortals are quite impressive, aren’t we?”

“Hmph.” Elwain’s blush deepened. “Yes, well. Out of all the mortals I could have picked, I’m quite pleased it was you.” He curled up in your lap. His face nestled into the crook of your neck. “You are quite a special mortal.”

“Hm.” You smiled. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You could feel Elwain’s mouth move against your skin and the soft rush of his breath as he laughed. “Good. It was intended as such.”

#exophilia #Fae #Faerie #faerie boyfriend #fake dating #monster x human #monster boyfriend #faerie x human #if there's interest in this I'll probably write a part two #I'd like to explore more of Elwain in the human world

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sakurology · 4 years

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Tetsuro Kuroo: NSFW Alphabet

Since I got at least THREE separate requests for this as a part of my 200 event (and I’m literally 1 away from 300???? how???), I’ve decided to add these gems as an XXXtra Special (laugh with me) piece to celebrate! Thank you SO much for following and enjoying my work! ❤️You can find the full alphabet prompt list here. Creds to @fairy-tail-babes for creating it!

𝔄 = 𝔄𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢

He’s the sweetest after he’s gone particularly hard on you. He loves to baby you, telling you how good you were for him. He also won’t let you go anywhere by yourself- he insists on carrying you wherever you want to go in the house. He also always has your favorite food or snack ready to go, and always lets you pick the movie.

𝔅 = 𝔅𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱

He fixates on the faces you make. Particularly the look in your eyes. Your expression tells him how he’s making you feel, and he’s an expert at reading you. He likes to stare into your eyes while you have sex, and always encourages you to keep your eyes open and look back at him.

ℭ = ℭ𝔲𝔪

Oh he likes to cum in your mouth- no, he LOVES it. Kuroo has an oral fixation, so he likes to see himself drip onto your tongue as he towers over you while you’re on your knees.

𝔇 = 𝔇𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔖𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱

He hasn’t gotten it done because he’s scared you won’t like it, but he’s seriously considered getting his dick pierced. He doesn’t want to bring it up because he’s thorouhgly convinced you’d hate it.

𝔈 = 𝔈𝔵𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢

He knows a lot. Not necesarily from his OWN experience, but simply because he’s a smarty pants. He will literally research things you bring up, finding the best products or methods to make your experience the most pleasurable possible. this is the one good thing abiut him being a fckn nerd...

𝔉 = 𝔉𝔞𝔳𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔓𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

I truly don’t think he has one! He likes anything that makes him look strong/sexy and that’s everything.... have you seen his abs/arms/back?!?! But I will say he is a VERY visual lover, so he does enjoy positioning you in front of a mirror and having the both of you watch him take you.

𝔊 = 𝔊𝔬𝔬𝔣𝔶

He laughs at you struggling against him. He thinks its funny that you think you stand a chance against him, when you both know you’re completely at his mercy.

ℌ = ℌ𝔞𝔦𝔯

He’s pretty well groomed. The carpet definitely matches the drapes. He doesn’t shave, but instead he opts to trim every once in awhile when he feels like its a little overgrown. But what’s important is that its clean. He’s very particular about that.

ℑ = ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔶

There are cute moments with Kuroo where he totally breaks out of the dom role he plays so well. Times where he’s actually very soft with you, and will just pause to say “wow, you are really the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

excuse me while I cry about it

𝔍 = 𝔍𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔒𝔣𝔣

HE SENDS YOU VIDEOS WHEN HE DOES! The sneaky fuck will do so in his office or car, and send you the video like “thinking of you. <3″ He always cuts the video off right before he cums though, or even worse, he’ll angle the camera up to his face so you can watch his eyes flutter closed- then he’ll look directly into the camera and wink, knowing he denied you of EXACTLY what you wanted to see.

𝔎 = 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔨

Ok so I’m gonna list a few and just... let you do what you will with them 👀:

CORRUPTION

Praise (giving)

Brat Taming/Degradation/Light exhibitionism (these all go hand in hand)

We ALL know he has a daddy kink too come on

𝔏 = 𝔏𝔬𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

He’ll have you wherever he can for a quickie, but the real fun is always in your home. Obviously your bedroom, but Kuroo is also very fond of shower sex, especially early in the morning. For him, its better than coffee at waking him up.

𝔐 = 𝔐𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

He loves to hear you beg for him. Knowing he’s the only one you call out for in that way drives him wild. He also likes to see you make a mess on his cock, its his reassurance that he makes you feel just that good.

𝔑 = 𝔑𝔬!

Kuroo is posessive, so there’s no way he’s allowing anyone else into your sex life. He might joke about showing his friends your sextapes, but in reality, he would probably murder anyone who looked at you like that besides him.

𝔒 = 𝔒𝔯𝔞𝔩

Loves to give and loves to receive. Prefers to recieve though, because he likes watching you get really into sucking him off. Also likes to fuck your face.

𝔓 = 𝔓𝔞𝔠𝔢

This is a toss up. It really does depend on his mood. He loves to tease though, so this fucker likes a good, lingering slow burn when he’s fucking you on a normal day. He’ll alternate between slow/shallow and slow/deep, just until you’re absolutely begging him. then he’ll pick it up and start pounding into you. However, if he’s had a particularly stressful day, he will take it out on you in the bedroom... not that you mind.

𝔔 = 𝔔𝔲𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔢

He uses them as foreplay. He’ll bend you over his office deck and get you craving him, but he’ll thrust so shallowly that you’re grinding against him for more- only for him to bring a hand to your ass and then whisper “When we get home, you’re all mine.” Which in turn only makes you want him more.

ℜ = ℜ𝔦𝔰𝔨

He’s definitely someone who is down to experiment. He wants to try just about anything you bring up, so that he knows what makes you feel good, and more importantly, what makes you tick. For him, understanding what you like is like understanding your deepest thoughts.

𝔖 = 𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔞

He can definitely go rounds. He takes ‘all night’ literally, and will not be finished until he knows you are ABSOLUTELY fucked out and can’t take it anymore. Even then, he’ll give you maybe 30 minutes to recover ??? if he’s being nice that night. But then he’s just right back in your guts like nothing happened.

𝔗 = 𝔗𝔬𝔶

Yes. He got you a special toy that was basically a silicone mold of HIS dick for when you’re not together... a true king.

𝔘 = 𝔘𝔫𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔯

Of course Kuroo is a tease. It’s his life blood. He’s naturally someone who likes to get a rise out of people to push them to be better- and you’re no exception. He always likes to put you in ‘compromising’ positions around his friends and then play it off like you’re the instigator.

“Oh y/n I know you want it right now, but baby, everyone is here- we must wait until we’re home okay?”

What a JERK iloveitplease

𝔙 = 𝔙𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢

Oh. My. God. So, he doesn’t necesarily moan a lot, but when he does, he tries his hardest to muffle them by breathing in sharply, or catching them in his throat. But he is someone who grunts and swears a lot. And yes 300% to dirty talk and pet names. Chibi-Chan is undeniably canon.

𝔚 = 𝔚𝔦𝔩𝔡 ℭ𝔞𝔯𝔡

He has the MOST FIRE sex playlist. I just know it. He has such a wide taste in music, so he can set the mood at any time just right. Its always playing “on accident” the moment you two are together- Kuroo calls it a sign.

𝔛 = 𝔛 ℜ𝔞𝔶

This took me like 30 minutes to fully fantasize about and explain

KUROO HAS A PRETTY DICK HE IS A PRETTY DICK CLUB CARDHOLDER. It’s not super thick, but it’s long. I’d actually say he’s a realistic 8incher. Please kill me with it. He’s also definitely a shower- so what he has is only enhanced when he’s hard. His dick also flushes against the fabric of whatever pants/shorts he wears, so you’re constantly caught staring, not that he minds- he loves the attention, and the thought of always being on your mind.

𝔜= 𝔜𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤

I would say he has a relatively normal to high sex drive- When he wants you, he wants you, and he won’t leave it alone until he gets you. He’s definitely the type to remind you how much he wants you all day long in an effort to rush you home from your errands or workday. He’s very good at making it known that he’s in the mood for you and you only

ℨ = ℨ𝔷𝔷

Kuroo... Doesn’t sleep at all? I see him as a night owl anyway, so he’s never really tired. He would honestly rather just admire you as you sleep. That’s how he knows he did a good job.

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jessiebanethedragon · 3 years

Text

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea

Star Wars, The Bad Batch Pirate!au (Hunter x Reader

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers dad and bothered are asses.

chapter one

Chapter two: The Stowaway

It is a disgusting day on Coruscant. Hot, humid and you can’t help but feel something sinister in the air. You feel hollow, and it is only partly due to the tightness of your dress. The yellow and green material wraps around you in layers. Your face is blank but your mind is racing, if you cannot convince your father to call off the marriage, how else can you put a stop to this?

Very few people talk about the war, and so how Lord Nython made his fortune is a mystery to you. What you have gathered from whispers of those in your household it was through a lengthy siege that devastated republic and seperatist forces alike.

“And the weather today is perfect for sailing, I bet those ships at the docks will be itching to set off.” Your handmaiden Seil says to you, and you frown, since when did she have an interest in the docks. But she continues playing with your hair.

“I'll get you the most expensive jewelry in the house,” She says with a smile you’ve grown up with. Perhaps carer was a more accurate term, considering she seemed to be the only person in the world that wanted the best for you. She returns with a pouch of all kinds of gold, silver and gems.

“There is a way to the docks, it is so lovely for a stroll. Away from the busy streets and such like.” You frown at her obsession with an area crawling with pirates.

“Seil what in the name-” You start saying, turning around to slip your flats on. And you stop, in her hands are your boots, made for riding as you had done so many times before.

“I thought these would be fitting, as they are your favourite.” She’s talking about all the times you told her how much you love how sturdy they feel around your feet. And how when you would run the fields, how powerful they made your legs feel.

And then it clicks. The docks, the boots. The tears in her eyes. While you were planning on an escape from this marriage, Seil had been planning an escape from every marriage your father would force on you. She ties the boots tightly, and places a hand on your cheek as you both take shaking breaths to compose yourselves.

And with your father still passed out in bed, and the sun barely rising, you slip into the streets and into the areas less traveled, sprinting off towards the ocean.

The docks are infused with the smell of fish, and the workers barely turn a glance your way as you shift through the swarms of people. You come to a halt at a clearing in the crowd, and your brain catches up with itself. What are you going to do now? With no money, skills, or plan, you begin to second guess yourself. You have time to make it back to the household with no one being the wiser. But you remember meeting Lord Nython for the first time.

His hand latched to yours like a monster squid to its prey, you notice that unlike some men he doesn’t ask ‘may I’ before touching you, and you briefly wonder what about you invites his hand onto your own. But your fake smile remains plastered on as he looks you up and down like a farmer regards the sale of livestock.

Your gut had told you then that all he could bring you was bad news, confirmed by rumors and stories of his wartime expeditions, and when he told you about the war, and the pathetic Grand Army of the Republic he spared no detail in his murder of an entire army.

Of course it's not the same as killing someone like you or me, those kaminoans are devils, and those freaks are just the same. Like hunting the same dumb peigion over and over again. We surely must have downed hundreds of them that day, but they are rats you see, you have to kill every last one in order to rid yourself of the infestation.

Education had not taught you about the Kamino Clones, but experience had, every sepratist man who held power despised them. ‘Scum of the earth’ your father had said when you asked about them. Telling you they had their emotions removed, and blindly followed orders given by the highest bidder. And when the G.A.R had fallen, they scuttled into exile.

And now you stand on the docks of Coruscant, two paths in front of you. Surely if you left Nyhon would send someone after you, he never seemed to back away from a fight, and given his reputation for always getting what he wanted, you doubted he’d take to your absence kindly. So that left you with leaving the only home you’d ever known, and given that you cannot sail, nor pay for passage, stowing away was your only option.

You briefly wonder about the procedure of stowing away, does one pick a certain ship or choose at random?

“Can I help you miss?” A Togruta man asks you, only his blue face visible from underneath his hood and cloak, but the markings give him away, as well as the point in the fabric over his head.

“I...I…” you pause to gather yourself. “I’m fine, thank you.” and you quickly turn away from him, walking down the docks at a purposeful pace. There are so many ships all looking to either load or unload supplies, but none of them seem to be leaving shortly. You need escape now, and not later. The longer you dwell the more the bad feeling in your stomach grows. You must lose yourself again because before you know it a man is rushing past you and shouting

“Sorry miss!” as he goes, you catch the clanking of metal and a glimpse of eyeglasses as he disappears up the ramp of a large dark oak ship, the name Havoc Marauder painted in red at the back.

Perhaps you have found your escape after all.

You very quickly decide the ocean is terrifying. After having snuck up the ramp and into the depths of the ship, you found yourself in your current spot. Huddled behind stacks of crates sitting on the wooden floor and being violently rocked around as the water crashes into the side from all sides. More than once you’ve had to close your eyes in panic when something particularly bad happens, but you refuse to appear weak - even if you’re the only person to witness it.

And the footsteps, even though the men seldom come below decks but you can hear them step ferociously above you. They sound like an army and considering you didn’t get a good look at any of them, you had no idea how many people you were hiding from. They’re loud, and kept busy by the Sea, you have no idea where you’re headed, but as long as it’s far, far away from Coruscant you couldn’t care less. And there are no windows here, so you have no idea how long you’ve been traveling for.

Footsteps start to make their way to the set of stairs leading down into your hiding spot, the small nook of the ship that resides in the belly of the beast. The steps you hear aren't as heavy as others, but they seem to keep most of their weight on their toes, you never quite hear their heel make contact against the wood. And you press yourself tighter to the wall, a tall frame passes you by, lean and with ashen hair the man halls a crate away from the other end of the room, and turns to leave. Your panicked eyes can do nothing but stare back at him through the gaps in the boxes, and they watch him squint for a moment, before he turns and heads back up the stairs. Crate in hand, and your heart in your chest. He cannot have seen you, if he had, why turn away? Panic consumes you.

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

“Sarge,” Crosshair says, thumping the crate of bread and dried meat down in front of him. Hunter simply raises an eyebrow at his vod, and it confirms Crosshair's hypothesis. The captain is in one of his moods again, when shaking off the nightmares is impossible and the hate inside him grows and simmers at fantastical measures.

“There’s a woman on board.” He tells him, casually popping a pick into his mouth. And watching as Tech’s and Wrecker’s heads snap up.

“A woman?” Tech asks with judgement. Crosshair rolls his eyes.

“Yes a woman, you know, the things that look almost like you except for their b-”

“I know what a woman is!” Tech cuts him off before things get graphic. His brother never having the politeness nor the decency to hold his tongue.

“There’s a woman aboard the Murader?” Wrecker tries to confirm, and underneath his wide captains hat, Hunter’s eyes darken.

“Listen very carefully.” He growls, the midday sun shining its way onto an unforgiving face. “If there is a stowaway. I do not care if you have to drag her to me with her intestines hanging out. Get. Her. Off. My. Ship.”

“But…” Wrecker starts, taken aback by the aggressive imagery.

“But what?” Hunter snaps, standing up and seeming small compared to his brother, but nonetheless intimidating. “I want her found and I want her off my kriffing ship.” He demands one last time before stalking back to the captains quarters.

Below deck you hear the slamming of a heavy wooden door, the sound makes your skin jump crawl with dread. Something has gone very wrong indeed, and it is not long before you see boots standing at the top of the steps down into the hold where you thought you were hidden. It is difficult to tell how many, two for certain, the change in foot size tells you that much. None of them talk, making it even harder for you to mask your panicked breaths. But just as one foot begins to descend the stairs, a voice from afar distracts it.

“Ship off the starboard bow!” it’s enough to get the men turning away from your concealment, and towards the voice.

“What does she fly?” Another voice shouts, much closer to you.

“Looks Weequay to me!” comes the response, which causes someone else to grumble something about eyesight and crowsnest. Frankly it’s all gibberish to you, starboard could be another hyper-ocean speedway let alone a part of the ship, and while you are sure you’ve heard the term Weequay before, you can’t place where or in what context you heard it. Laughter breaks you from your thoughts.

“That’ll be Hondo’s ship then!” A loud shout settles in your bones. Not one in anger but perhaps more so simple loudness. And whoever or whatever a Hondo is, it is enough to carry the shoes away from you and rush to another, more pressing task. Which makes you think you just may owe this Hondo your life.

Taglist: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses

comment to be added!

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years

Text

The Daughter of Aphrodite | Leo Valdez

Hello Lovelies! So I was inspired by my classics class and figured hey, what better than to write about Leo Valdez to make the cravings go away? This is my first Leo fic and I decided to take up a third person perspective because it felt right. It’s really fluffy and I hope you all enjoy! Until next time, all my love!

Description: Leo and y/n have been pining after each other for too long. Her friends help her come up with a plan to get close to him, now she has to cross her fingers that her mother, Aphrodite, doesn’t step in.

Pairing: Leo Valdez x Female!Reader

Warnings: Absolutely none

Word Count: 2.7k

Tags: FLUFF

(Pics not mine but mood board is :) )

Her hands were covered in dirt, a trait most uncommon to a daughter of Aphrodite. Somehow, though, she wore it like a pair of silk evening gloves. Her hair was messy, thrown in a bun atop her head, but every strand that fell around her face seemed as though placed by the gods themselves. Even in chaos she was perfect.

Leo leaned precariously against a two by four, watching the daughters of Aphrodite and Demeter replant the gardens around camp. Well, more like the daughters of Demeter and one daughter of Aphrodite. The rest of the Aphrodite sisters were lounging in the sun, avoiding the mud. He couldn’t help but smile when one of her friends gingerly rubbed some dirt off her face. He could almost hear the girl scold her. Always getting your hands dirty, hun.

“Just talk to her already man.”

“I have, multiple times. At least a couple times a day.”

Jason ran a frustrated hand through his hair, watching as his friend watched the girl he loved from a distance. Everyone at the camp knew how Leo felt, everyone except her. She was every bit as pure as she was kind. Not to mention loving, gentle, and patient. She was everything he knew he needed and, even more so, everything he desperately wanted.

“You know what I mean.”

Leo turned to his best friend, a lazy smile plastered on his face, “I know, man. I will.”

Jason only grumbled before heading off. Leo always said that. Clearly he hadn’t followed through yet. Not that it mattered. No one was exactly raring to go head to head with the boy who could light his entire body on fire. His girl would remain his girl until he could work up the courage to, well, make her his girl. Still, Jason just wanted his friend to be happy.

Leo watched her for another moment before heading off to do what he was supposed to be doing; fixing the door for the sons of Ares.

Across the green, musical giggles filled the spaces between the chatter. Her laughs were contagious, the Demeter girls rolling around in the plots they were supposed to be filling with hydrangeas, clutching their stomachs with red faces. The other girls, her sisters, also laughed, just a little more contained. They sipped on pink lemonade, twirling the straws in dainty fingers.

“So you’re telling me,” Arabella, a Demeter daughter with wayward curls, barely contained a chuckle, “you have never been kissed.”

Dawn, one of y/n’s sisters, chimed in with a few of her own runaway giggles, “don’t forget the best part: she’s never been kissed because every time a boy gets close, mother steps in!”

They collapsed again in another fit, filling the camp with some much needed life. She smiled sweetly, cheeks blushed like an angel, giggling right along with them. It was funny after all. She liked making her friends smile, it made her feel warm inside.

“Is it really true? Every time a boy has gone to kiss you Aphrodite has stepped between it?’

Her voice was pure honey, slow and sugary, “oh yes. One time, right as a boy leaned in, a bolt of lightning struck the ground, right at his feet. I’m not sure what she told Zeus to get him to do it. Mother has her ways, I'm sure.”

“Well,” the giggles died down but the atmosphere remained light, “if you could kiss any boy here, without Aphrodite striking him down that is, who would it be?”

Her eyes widened a touch at the question. One boy immediately swam to her mind but she brushed it away quickly, her smile still neatly in place. She knew for a fact that he wasn’t interested in her like that so there was no reason to offer his name to the group. Regardless, though, her heart still fluttered for a certain son of Hephaestus.

She coiled a loose strand of hair around her finger, her charm bracelet jingling gently on her wrist, “hmm, I’m not sure.”

Her sisters eyed each other cheekily before peering around the camp. When their gaze landed on precisely who they had been looking for, they giggled a collective hum.

“How about him, hun? Would you kiss him if you could?” Daisy nodded her glass across the field.

Her eyes wandered with her sister’s gesture, past a couple of younger campers playing a game, to a boy fixing what looked like the door to the Ares cabin. Silly boys, always rough housing. That cabin had to have the window fixed just last week. Her eyes lingered on him a little longer than they should have considering she was trying to convince her sisters that she didn’t like him. Her soft lip pulled between her teeth as he ran a hand through his hair.

Giggles erupted around her again, pulling her from her daze with heated cheeks, “Leo? He would never kiss me.”

The giggles only increased. Her eyes shifted quickly to the Ares cabin, hoping to Zeus that her group wasn’t causing too much of a scene. She wasn’t so lucky. Her eyes met Leo’s brown ones from across the lawn, her nose instantly burning. She tried to look away, she wanted to. Well, she thought she wanted to, at least, but his eyes held hers in a way that made it impossible to look anywhere else.

She bit her lip again and he smirked, his lips pulling tight in a way that should be a crime. His skin caught the light like a gem, shining from his labour in the hot sun. When he noticed her eyes, drawing over his face and arms, his grin widened and her heart stuttered dramatically. When he winked at her and went back to work, her heart stopped.

“Oh, hun,” Arabella’s hand swept under her chin, pulling y/n’s focus from the fire boy, “you’re clueless, aren’t you? Have your sisters taught you nothing? That boy is smitten.”

Sarah Beth, her eldest sister, huffed indulgently, a teasing smile on her rosy lips, “oh we tried, Ara, trust us we did. Sis is helpless. Blame it on mother.”

Y/n whined, the sound like one of Apollo’s harps, “what do I do? I’m cursed!”

Even in her torment she giggled, rubbing her cheek affectionately in Arabella’s palm. Arabella smiled lovingly, an idea sparking as she pulled y/n’s face back up. It was a foolproof one, too. Arabella looked at her wide eyes, watching them dart across the green to the boy she was clearly head over heels for. Yes, it needed more than anything to be foolproof.

Arabella poured a fresh glass of lemonade, taking extra care to mix enough ice with the pink liquid. She plopped a straw in it, stirring it once, twice, three times before shoving it in y/n’s perfectly polished nails.

Her eyebrows scrunched, a cute confusion laid over her features, “I have lemonade, Bella.”

Arabella had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, “it’s not for you,” her eyes tilted to Leo, “he looks thirsty, hun. I think he wants a drink.”

“I don’t think lemonade is what he’s after,” Sara Beth didn’t look up from her own drink but her cat like grin said it all.

Her sisters had to stifle another wave of giggles as she gingerly passed the lemonade back and forth between her hands, contemplating whether or not to go to him. When she looked over at him for the hundredth time in an hour, she made up her mind. It was now or never.

She stood, much too gracefully for a girl with a heart racing a mile a minute, and took a deep breath, “please, mother, do be nice. He’s a lovely boy. I really like him.”

“Go get him, tiger,” Arabella nudged her gently towards the mechanic, a proud smile on every girl in and around the flowerbeds.

The walk across the green felt like it was never ending and much too short all at the same time. Every step that she took towards his crouched figure she debated downing the liquid herself and then running away. But no, she couldn’t. He was like a magnet, drawing her towards him with ridiculous ease. He didn’t even know he was doing it, that was the worst part. The tips of her ears felt hot, her feet stopping a few feet away from him. Oh, gods, what did she get herself into this time?

Leo’s hands stalled, a flowery scent curling around his face and clinging to his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing in as much of it as he could. That had to be what heaven smelled like, he just knew it. Like chrysanthemums and honeydew. Yes, he knew for certain. He drew another breath. Gods, he couldn’t get enough.

“Hey, Leo,” her voice went high, her words like unintentional poetry, “whatcha working on there?”

Why did she say that? She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. So silly, what did it look like he was doing? When she opened them Leo was looking at her, a loose grin on his lips, a glint in his chocolate eyes. Her chest squeezed fervently.

“I’ll give you one guess,” his eyes glanced to the door before landing back on her, peering at her from his seat on the ground.

She scrunched her nose at him, trying not to giggle as he stood to face her, “oh ha ha, very funny.”

Leo laughed easily, a sound less honeyed than her own but still so sweet, “that’s my job. Well, when I’m not picking up after Ares’ sons. Can you believe they split the door in half?”

She glanced up at him, her doe eyes dancing over his tanned skin and black curls, unable to fight the butterflies that bounded inside her chest. He really was something. She held the glass a touch tighter when she breathed in his motor oil and nutmeg scent. She was certain this was what Olympus smelled like, not that she’d ever been.

“Honestly yes, I can,” she met his eyes again, sucking in a small breath when they drew down her body to the drink she had yet to hand over.

His eyes flitted back to hers and darkened a touch, a knowing smirk plastered on his lips, “say, is that for me, cariño?”

Her cheeks flamed and she knew if she lifted a hand to them they would be hot to the touch. How fitting.

“Erm,” she stalled, pulling her lip between her teeth once more, her eyes shifted to the grass at her toes, “I thought you might like some lemonade? If not that’s ok! It was silly of me, I’m sorry, I can just-”

Leo’s hand closed around hers, pulling the glass, and by default her, closer to his heady nutmeg chest, “I’d love some, thank you.”

His voice had lost its playful edge, only the soft warmth remained. He lifted the glass to his lips, drawing her hands with his as he took the first sip. She could practically hear her sisters swoon from across the grass. Wow, she’s really doing it isn’t she? Way to go, sis! Her whole body heated this time, her neck to her toes consumed by lapping flames. It was intoxicating.

Leo took the glass from her hands and set it on the step beside him, the taste of strawberries pungent on his lips. When he glanced back at her, he ran his tongue across his lip. The light hit her in a way that was entirely ethereal, clinging to her skin in a way that defied the laws of physics. It was maddening, like standing next to one of the muses themselves. God’s when did this ever happen to someone like him?

“It’s my sister’s recipe,” she fiddled with her fingers, lost with what to do without the glass to hold onto, “I hope you like it.”

He closed the small gap between them even more, pulling her fingers into his. Her heart skyrocketed, his hand was warm and calloused. His fingers fit too perfectly into the spaces between her own. Was it normal to be this breathless?

“It was sweet,” he squeezed his hand in hers, his voice carefree but low.

He slipped his other arm around her waist, thanking the gods for wherever his courage was miraculously stemming from. She practically buzzed in his arms, her melon and flower perfume melting around him. He bit the inside of his cheek. Was it perfume, or was it just her supple skin?

“I like sweet things,” he mused, revelling in the way her eyes widened, catching his innuendo without missing a beat.

Her mind was stuck on his hand. It was on her back, low on her spine, his fingers lightly tickling up and down. She avoided arching into his fingers. It was heavenly. He was good with his hands and it showed.

Her eyes brushed over him once more, stopping on his lips for a millisecond too long, “she makes muffins too.”

He tightened his arm around her, drawing the daughter of Aphrodite against his chest. Gods, she was soft.

“I don’t want muffins, cariño.”

Now or never, Leo. He leaned his head down, his nose brushing hers sweetly.

Please, mother, let me have this. She tilted her head up, her hands sliding up his chest.

Leo’s lips found hers at the same time her hands circled his neck. His lips were slow, testing to see if she would kiss him back, as if it was even an option for her not to with the way the flames, his flames, were licking at her skin. How did he do it? She felt like the sun; his lips tasted like fire and recklessness. And strawberries, a bushel of them.

She took his sweet kiss, savoured it, and then slammed her lips back against his, slipping her hands into his raven locks and tugging-- hard. He moaned softly against her sweet lips, giving in to every demand her mouth challenged. How could her lips be sweeter than the lemonade? He clutched her harder against him.

She pulled back only when her lungs demanded it, leaning her forehead against his heaving chest. She took the staggering lack of lightning as a good sign as a dizzying warmth filled her chest. He pressed his face against her hair, nuzzling against her sweetness lovingly. He had been waiting forever for that and he wasn’t about to let her go just yet.

Her fingers slid back down his chest, curling around his shirt, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you, Leo.”

What? He pulled his head away from her hair, staring into her doe eyes confused. And then he laughed, a full laugh that had his whole chest shaking and hers as well, before drawing his lips back to hers. He tugged her bottom lip between his lip, his hands squeezing her hips fiercely. She’s mad, beautiful but out of her mind. Gods.

“Cariño,” his lips brushed over hers, his words mingling with her breaths, “I kissed you. And trust me, I wanted to. Believe it or not, I don’t owe anything to the Ares’ brothers. You, on the other hand, have all my time at your disposal.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer before closing his lips over hers. There was a lot of lost time he was more than ready to make up for.

Meanwhile, across the green stood Jason, Sarah Beth, and Arabella, their heads close together but their eyes glued to the Ares cabin.

“I’m taking credit for this,” Jason and Arabellas’ voices mingled, proud and in sync.

Their eyes flashed to each other, “no, I did this!”

Sara Beth just giggled lusciously, twirling the straw of her own lemonade in lazy circles.

#Leo Valdez #Leo #Valdez #leo valdez x reader #the heroes of olympus #thoo #leo valdez imagine #Jason #grace #Jason grace #aphrodite #hephaestus #imagine #reader insert

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sabitosthirst · 3 years

Text

Forever His- Part 6- Sabito x reader

This follows our reader (who is Giyuu’s younger sister) and Sabito as they get older. It starts off when they’re small kids, and goes from there.

SFW? PG14? What’s the middle ground?

Previously ⬇️

5.5 • 5 • 4.5 • 4 • 3.5 • 3 • 2 • 1

Reader = 18 • Sabito = 23

*@divvinefeminine on weheartit.com*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Perspective of (Y/N)

I’ve been visiting Sabito for the past 2 days in the infirmary. Our days are spent talking, playing small card games, laughing, and taking short walks together. No one bothers us, and by the time I leave I feel like I’m flying. Even the air between us is different, he seems so much more relaxed around me and honestly, this is all I could’ve asked for.

His farewell kisses on my hands leave me red and giddy. Not only that, but his silver tongue that always teased me but never had an effect on me now suddenly make me fall over in heat. I’m swarmed with so much butterflies in my stomach that I feel like I could faint. Nothing can bring me down

“Happy birthday, beautiful!”

“Sab! Good morning and thank you!” UHH! My heart! I’ve always wanted to be treated this way by him, and now that it’s happening I feel like his words aren’t real- but they are. He’s holding my hand. Talking about when we were younger while he runs his thumb over my knuckles. Uff, there goes the butterflies in my stomach again!

“So, I know it’s a shame that no one could make it today. But let’s be honest (y/n), I’m all you need.” Smooth as always. His eyes squint at me with his softening smile, threatening me to object his statement.

I scoot in closer to his right side where is remaining ear resides. “Weeellll, it’s to be expected. The life we live isn’t for the faint of heart. And you’re right, at least you’re here. I can bake for us and whoever else is here some sweets and that-“ his left hand reaches around and cups my cheek. His sudden affection holds me in place while his thumb stretches to my bottom lip. Caressing the plump skin and following the movements with his eyes that are so focused on my mouth.

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me treat you. Don’t go around tending to others or me today. Just because Giyuu or the others aren’t here, doesn’t mean they didn’t leave you anything. Those gifts will have to wait though, it’s bad enough I just ruined their surprises. But, I couldn’t let you think nothing is going on for you.”

His fingers move down to my chin, holding it up to face him head on with his thumb still swirling softly on my bottom lip. Damn, even sitting in bed he towers over me. His height, his hands on my mouth, and his lavender eyes are all making me feel warm deep inside. I don’t care about a missing hand, I have 2 good ones for him. I even don’t care about an ear that’s gone either, I can still talk the other off. Nothing can take away this beating heart of mine that yearns for Sabito.

“Can I give you your first gift? If it’s okay with you?”

I nod softly, taking shallow breaths that seem too loud right now. He smiles, releasing my face and leans in. Oh my goodness. My heart is about to beat of my chest. His image closes in on me and I close my eyes.

“Surprise” huh? My eyes flutter open in confusion. Warm checks brush against mine as they pull back. I turn to face him, just barely missing his face with my lips. He pulls out a small box that was hidden under the piece of blanket that I sat next to. Oh.

*@veenau on weheartit.com*

“What’s wrong? I thought you would’ve liked gifts” his tone and raised eyebrows send my hopes and stomach to a plummet. His hand rest on the box in front of me and reach for latch to open it. I feel like I’m about to throw up. Am I over thinking all of this? I could’ve sworn he was going to kiss me. Tears threaten to surface but my vision and thoughts are interrupted by something shiny and beautiful.

In front of me, Sabito raises the most beautiful bracelet I’ve ever seen. Gems that could rival the beauty of those lavender-eyes-I-love glisten in the morning light. It’s golden hooks catch my breath and now I’m starting to think those tears might escape. Sabito’s looks satisfied as I take and put on the beautiful gift. Once its on, his hands takes mine and turns it over to observe it.

“Looks even better than I imagined on you”

“Thank you so much, it’s... it’s too much really” tears sting my face, making it hard to look him in the eyes.

His hand returns to my cheek, comforting me with his soft smile and caresses me.

“Nonsense. I still have plenty more to give.” It’s too much. My emotions are overwhelmed with such passion that I feel like I’m going to burst. I love him. I’ve always had, and I always will. How can he give me such things and not expect me to cling onto him still.

“(Y/n)” his face turns serious and I freeze. Eyes search mine, reaching into the depths of my orbs. I’m losing it. I’m leaning to into his hold and it’s happening again. His face comes close and this time I don’t close my eyes. I don’t want to be deceived again. Only this time his face doesn’t turn away. It’s coming closer and I lean in. He stops, our faces just a breath away.

“I’m sorry I’ve pushed you away. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to respect you in your age and relationship with me and your brother. I tried my best but I can’t-“

“Neither can I!” Lips clash and breaths are lost.

I’m eager and can’t handle it anymore. I grab his horari to pull us closer. I mindlessly get up and sit on the edge of his bed, all while wrapping an arm around him and keeping our lips together. I want to kiss him hard and give him everything but his hand turns to a grip and tightens ever so slightly, pulling me away. Before I could feel hurt, his lips return to me. Only this time they were softer. He takes the lead to care for me with his lips. Gently parting mine with his skillful movements, encouraging me to follow his sweet rhythm. Tingles spread from my lips and shoot down me. Our warm breaths are tangled and I start to feel heat build up between my thighs. I may be a virgin, but I know exactly what desires are building within me. I’ve been thinking about Sabito for years, and those thoughts and fantasies have only evolved in the recent years.

*@1214kstr on Twitter*

My fingers start to work their way to the back of his head, massaging his scalp and getting lost in his long hair. I’m sinking further into his warm kiss. My eagerness takes over again and I flush myself against him. For a moment I thought I might’ve pushed it, but his hand glides down. Wrapping around my waist and holding me firmly against him. Even with only 1 arm, he still overpowers me.

My breath gives out first and I’m forced to pull away. His hand moves from a tight wrap around me to squeezing my hip, not daring to let me get away. As if I would dare run away now. The looks we now exchanged were a mixture of shock and satisfaction. How I’ve waited and dreamed of this moment for so long. My deep breaths turn to tiny laughs.

He breaks into a smile and joins my laughter, only to shut me up due to another deep kiss that takes my breath away.

🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿

The rest of the day consisted of kisses, gifts, and walks around the property. I, of course, also insisted I tend to him. He was still in great pain, but he pushed through for me and made today the best.

We were now back in his house, in his kitchen that I’m all too familiar in. After much pestering on my end, I finally convinced him to let me cook for us. Our meal was delicious and I was starting to feel anxious. I didn’t want the day to end.

“Sooooo…. What happens from here on out?” I questioned. I had to know. It’s a question thats lingered in my mind these past few nights, worrying for him and wondering what’s going to happen next. He’s been back for several days. Since then, besides being with me, he’s had meetings and some time to himself.

“Well, I obviously can’t continue as a slayer in my condition.” He leans back in his chair, shifting his mood from light to heavy.

*@uofang on Twitter, posted Aug 27th, 2019*

I felt the pressure of his gaze, holding still and waiting for this next words.

He inhales deeply. The rise of his chest was just enough to push aside his robe to expose that much more of his broad chest. I’d be lying if I say my eyes didn’t linger too long.

With a clearing of his throat, my attention snaps back to his face. Embarrassment flushes my face, but he just smirks. He drums his fingers on the table and continues. “However, my desire to help still lingers. My pride is stubborn and I can’t let up. So… the master and I have come to a conclusion of my retirement. I’ll settle a bit of ways, in a new home of my own. There I will try my best to help guide and train future slayers sent to me once I’m fully healed. I can handle myself. Financially and stability wise, I’m fine. I’m set. However….” He leans forward and places his handless arm on the table with his other. Both of our eyes look down at them, then back at each other.

“I’m going to need help. Someone to help me with some things…some cooking … and some other things.”

My chest puffs up. Here’s my chance!

“Let me. I can be your helper!” I know what I’m saying would mean abandoning being a slayer. Maybe I can still fight. Yes, I’ll talk to the master. But, what if Sabito or master objects?

He shakes his head at me, a light chuckle escapes his lips and I’m feeling confused.

“I don’t want you as my helper, (y/n)”

Ouch.

“I want you as my wife”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#demon slayer #kny #kny sabito #sabito x reader #Sabito #pillar men #giyuu #water pillar #kimetsu no yaiba #DS

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sp00kymulderr · 4 years

Text

eupnea (Ezra x Reader)

Warnings: Just sickeningly sweet fluff, no plot. Kissing.

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,902

Request: once upon a time @goldafterglow sent me an ask that just said “Hi the only! thing! I can think about right now is nuzzling Ezra’s tummy and making him giggle because he is a sweet good boy with a soft tum and he deSeRVES IT PLS SOMEONE NUZZLE HIS TUM OR I’LL RIOT” and I took it and ran with it, in a completely different direction.

A/N: Ok so there is tummy nuzzling in this but it’s not the main feature of the fic, but I did fit it in. Hands up if you would also really like to be nuzzling Ezra’s soft little tum right now.

Like a moth to the flame, unable to resist his radiance, you were drawn to Ezra from the very beginning.

When you had met, you working mechanics for a contract while he was there to dig, you didn’t really believe in love. Certainly not love at first sight, true love, soulmates. None of those old fairy tales your mother told you growing up. You hadn’t felt it before, never needed anyone in that way.

But then there was Ezra and you felt struck by lightning.

Even when he put on a show to the others of being the intimidating vagrant fringeling only looking to make credit, you saw straight through it. He was more, had so much to him. His presence thrilled you, made your blood pump like molten liquid through your veins, you knew you would never be able to get enough.

And oh, Ezra was resplendent. When he smiled it warmed every cold part of your being, his laugh lighting up the bleak constant dark of the planet you were stationed on. Beautiful too. Like none before him, there was no hope for you. From those shining, wide eyes to his striking nose, the unusual patch of blonde at the front of his soft head of hair to the small silvered scar below one eye. You never wanted to look upon another face again.

He felt it too. Desperate with it, seeking you out at each opportunity. Spending hours in your tent just talking, him with that sticky sweet voice and words spilling from him like honey from the jar. You swapped stories of life on the fringe and futures you could barely let yourself imagine. Quickly overcome with longing - lingering gazes and grazing hands, hiding away together with your fingers interlaced and your hearts becoming ever more entangled.

And yes he admit to you he had a past, and he was certainly not faultless, but you understood that beyond anything else he was a man with true heart. Genuine and kind where it mattered despite everything, despite the pain you saw in him that he tried so hard to hide. Despite growing up in a world so unforgiving, where he had quickly learnt to be cunning and devious to survive. He hadn’t let his lot in life completely determine his humanity.

You loved him more with every new part of himself that he revealed to you.

With Ezra, it was immediately like all the little pieces of life's puzzle were put together. It all made sense. Everything. It was the most powerful thing you had ever experienced. You both knew, from the very beginning, this thing between you was life-changing. Nothing would pull you apart.

***

After that contract had ended you decided to stay together, impossible to part when you dreamt only of each other.

And now in what feels like a different lifetime, you are settled. A particularly fortuitous dig with enough successfully mined aurelac to fill several cases and only one barely escaped ambush had left you both with enough credits that you could actually find a home, a comfortable cabin tucked away in beautiful unspoilt forest, this place is for the two of you and no one else. Having somewhere the two of you could call home felt like the most beautiful luxury you could imagine.

To begin with you had been concerned that Ezra would regret his decision, you understood his need to rest a while now that he could - you were both so weary, had both been through so much in this life. But he was so accustomed to being constantly on the move, not staying in the same place for long enough to call it home. Part of you fearing he would come to resent you for tying him down to this place, this quiet life, you.

The look on his face now though tells you clearly that he is perfectly content.

You rest together on the plush, comfortable couch – your head in his lap as he absent-mindedly brushes his fingers against your jaw with a lazy smile. He glows; rested and nourished, well fed and well loved, and your heart swells with pride to know that is your doing – that you had in hand in renewing a tired spirit. A slow tune drifts through the air from the crackly old speakers on the opposite side of the room, and you close your eyes as you sing along in a happy daze.

“My beautiful little songbird” he chuckles as the music fades out leaving you singing on your own, and when you open your eyes he’s looking down at you with the kind of adoration that takes your breath away each time. He loves you so deeply, so fierce and yet gently. Even after years he holds you like you are something more brilliant than any gem he ever pulled from the ground.

“You’re the beautiful one” you murmur, reaching up to stroke a hand against his cheek, tracing gently over the small silvery scar, “I’m just here to provide some music”.

“And you certainly do that, such sweet music. But I see we’re at an impasse, birdie, because I cannot accept such a title while you’re here making all the goddesses envious”

“Hush,” you grin, “let me have this. Don’t I deserve to see my love smile so bright as I tell him he’s more brilliant than every star in the night sky?”

He laughs turning slightly bashful at your words but it’s there, the beautiful curve of his plush lips to grace you with that genuine smile. You do adore seeing him like that, to make him know how much you adore him and see him lose his words because of it. There was a time before when he didn’t take compliments so well and you had to convince him that each loving word was true, those days when he was haunted by his past ventures and the loss of his limb. And it had hurt to see him struggle like that, watch him so slowly come to terms with it.

Ezra starts to say something in return, something you’re sure will be nothing short of poetry meant to flatter you, but interrupts himself with a wide yawn, his torso stretching up with it and causing the grey fabric of his shirt to ride up slightly. The movement reveals the gentle swell of soft golden skin that you are so fond of, that you have often laid your head on as you talked for hours, and that now is another sign of the good life you’re finally living together. You move and hand to where the fabric has ridden up, just resting it there for a moment as he returns to himself to look down at you with that dopey, lazy, happiness written all over his face.

“I love you so much” you stutter, taken by the way he looks framed by the orange glow of setting sun through the window.

“Every bit of you, more than I could ever say” you sigh, moving your head to nuzzle your cheek against his stomach then turn to kiss it, a light giggle floating down to you, “I’m so grateful that my star brought me to you”.

“Your star?” Ezra asks, you hum a yes against his skin then kiss again. His hand lies at the side of your neck, pleasent stroke of his thumb against you.

“Didn’t I tell you the story? The soul star?”

“I can recall every story you’ve ever shared with me, songbird. I can conjure up where we were and exactly how you told it at any given moment. This one is new to me and I would be delighted to hear you tell it, please” he answers, excitement wavering in his tone, he always loves to listen to you.

“Ok, I’ll tell it.” you chuckle, brushing against his belly with your cheek again, feeling him relax further in to the couch as you do.

“It was one of those romantic old wives tales my mother used to share. I never believed it, couldn’t understand it until we met”, you punctuate your words with another tender press of your lips to his skin. “She told me every one of us has a star, our own incredible bright light that watches over us, up in the distance keeping an eye on us. She said our star knows what we need and when we need it, and when it comes to the right time the star will call out to us. If we answer the call and follow where it leads, it will take us to the place our soul belongs”

He hums softly, letting you continue as his hand comes to cover yours that lays on him.

“It was told often, and I always laughed it off. I didn’t feel I belonged anywhere, you know that. But then there was the job, the one on Triada Five,” Ezra squeezes your hand at this, the job you had met on “I didn’t want to take it, it was long and the ship was a rust-bucket that looked like it wouldn’t make it half way there. I was about to turn it down, figured I could make the same credits fixing ships on the Pug, but something...something stopped me. It was like a tiny voice whispering in my ear, comforting and kind, told me that if I took the job I would find everything I needed. And I didn’t even doubt it, didn’t question it at all.”

“It was your star” Ezra mutters, intrigued, absolutely taken in by your story.

You nod, skin soft against his where your head rests, before moving to sit up and placing yourself in his lap. You can feel the pooling of tears in your eyes, you had never let yourself believe it entirely but hearing him say it overwhelms you. If you hadn’t taken that job, who knows if your paths would ever have crossed. Whether it was your soul star, or fate, or pure dumb luck you don’t know but you are grateful of whatever force was in play then.

“I suppose it was my star. I think it called out, and led me to you, Ezra. And I think here-” you place a hand on his chest, over his heart, “is where I belong. With you”

You feel a tear trickle from the corner of your eye, Ezra quickly catching it and wiping it away before he pushes forwards to kiss your lips.

“I think you’re correct, birdie. And it’s dawning on me that I felt it too, long ago” he reveals, arm coming around your middle to pull you closer, “I was lead through galaxies to you. You are my reason for everything”

And then he’s kissing you again; deep and never-ending, just you and him and the peaceful chorus of rustling trees in the forest around the cabin.

You remain like that for a long while, bodies pressed together, mouths open in quiet adoration of the other. The sun leaving the sky as you find yourselves through each other again and again. When he finally pulls away, you are breathless and bursting full of pure affection.

“Come on, songbird,” Ezra says as you chase his lips for once more kiss “Let’s wander down to the lake. The stars are out and I believe we owe them our gratitude”

Permanent tag list:

@youhavereachedtheendofpie @princessbatears @catfishingmorales @hdlynn @fleetwoodmactshirt @chews-erotically @keeper0fthestars @marydjarin @readsalot73 @a-seeker-of-imagination @agentpike @heatherbel @din-damn-djarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @mstgsmy @sin-djarin @huliabitch @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @phoenixhalliwell @dindjar-n @softpedropascal @millllenniawrites @blancatobarxoxo @cyaredindjarin @goblinqueen95 @knittingqueen13 @teaofpeach @agirllovespancakes @insomniamamma

Ezra tag list:

@pedropascallion @justanotherblonde23

#ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #prospect #pedro pascal #fic #one-shot #fluff #this is really boring literally nothing happens I'm so sorry

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leamy-world · 3 years

Text

Reaction to The Devil Judge (spoilers for ep. 11-12)

Hello everyone! I hope you’re doing well this week!

Here we go! Again i’m really sorry for the english & my personal interpretations which might go a little bit overboard (❁´ω`❁)

THIS GOT VERYYYYYYYYYY LONG PLEASE BEAR WITH ME!!!!

tldr: i am in shambles haha

Have a nice week and take care! ♥

- Huckleberryfinn’s new OST, The Nights, was released this saturday and it’s truly a gem! The guitar/bass’s place in BOTH OSTs they composed is awesome. The lyrics destroyed me haha (i’ll shortly talk about it below!). The soundtrack during these two episodes was awesome btw ;;

- Sun-Ah’s visit to the mansion felt nostalgic and shattering at the same time, she sees she doesn’t belong in this house but still indulges a little in this illusion, « wanting to fall for his trick even just for a little while ». Her expression made me feel for her for a little while too ;;

This shot above is funny because the bokeh effect (✨ the little sparkles ✨) is used in the background every time but this time it plays in front of Sun-Ah’s view: she sees in Yohan and his mansion a « shining » thing she desired for a long time. The bokeh here served also as a transition to the flashback right after.

Well, it could just be the streetlights’ reflections on the car and me reaching but there are so many symbolic visual shots in this show already i just couldn’t dismiss it in my brain haha

I liked Sun-Ah’s depiction of her choice to go against Yohan: she drops the necklace (symbolizing Yohan, this scene followed by Yohan’s cross-like scar) and not herself, like she did in the past for/because of Yohan when she was a maid + Yohan’s reflection disappears, Sun-Ah only focusing on herself: the ‘us’ she wanted for some time disappeared. And this event makes Sun-Ah’s rage on K more upsetting than it already is, but maybe i’m reaching haha

This scene also shows Yohan and Sun-Ah want two different directions to their relationship: to use her and to have him reach the top by her side respectively. They both look at the mirror, but their focus is different and they’re set in different plans on the shots.

In My Mister, (SPOILERS) the wife has a serious affair with her husband’s superior, but throughout the drama, they have divergent opinions on their affair’s developments: the wife wanted to leave her husband and settle with her lover, while the latter didn’t think any of it and, among other plot reasons, only wanted her because married women are the ‘safest choice (ending the relationship while she still loves him would be more troublesome) and always kept the affair secret’.

This was particularly symbolized by their song preferences, but also by this shot in the beginning of the series: after the wife shared her hopes about their relationship (and her lover staying most of the time silent), they both look to the distance (their affair’s metaphorical future) but their eyes almost never look in the same direction.

- « I did it because i need you (by my side?) », Sun-Ah and Gaon’s parallels:

"[To Gaon on ep. 8] I wanted you to be by my side.”

“[To Gaon on ep. 5] I don’t need you to understand, but you need to make a decision. Will you stand in my way … or stand on my side?”

"[To Gaon] If i needed to, i would’ve done something even worse. Whether it was switching him or something else.”

- When Elijah and Gaon play jenga, Yohan might have let the door to his bedroom open (even after leaving them the first time) to continue hearing them have fun in the living room. It parallels to the scene in ep. 5 where he watches them play in the garden with Kkomi through the little gap of his curtains: what piques his curiosity first is the playful conversation he hears from his bed even from the closed windows. The flashback explains it all and i’m glad Gaon insisted to have him play with them despite the front he tried to put on, Elijah’s and Yohan’s expressions in this scene ended me ;;

Look how quick he turned his attention to Gaon, as if he waited for something to happen, to get to play with them!! His eyes lit up in an instant i can’t with this —

I loved how Yohan delayed his defeat to Elijah by asking Gaon questions about the game hahah

Elijah and Yohan’s relationship growth here reminds me of 2 parallels i didn’t catch the first time (but the desperation i felt when Gaon left because everything could grow cold again between Elijah and Yohan):

“That’s everything i think about”:

Elijah getting in & out of the car (ep. 6-9):

- And Gaon’s « Once everything is over, i’ll definitely … » — you’ll definitely what, please tell the audienceeeeeeee ;;;; this screams a death flag for Soohyun (or was it just foreshadowing their confrontation in ep. 12? idek anymore haha), but let’s hope it’s not!!

- After CKH’s suicide: we can’t expect people to make perfect choices every time they are challenged, and i think this story shows it well: Soohyun when she was with Elijah, and now Gaon carelessly touching the minister’s body for the files. As judges, they could have searched the body and the room using a fabric to hide their presence. But they’re both shocked: Yohan looks dumbfounded, standing and watching (even though he’s quicker to react when he sees Soohyun and he puts on a composure at the house saying it was ‘nothing’, he looked very sour when Sun-Ah called him to rejoice in her death) and Gaon panic-stricken. The fact he might have relived his parents’ suicide when he discovered the Minister’s body … And in the worst way possible (in a daze, searching her dead body for her files and realizing he didn’t give the body minimum respect) … oof

At least Yohan could have thought about it since the story shows how prepared he is in his plans, but this scene shows even him is at a loss at what to do. After all, the minister was the way he targeted to bring everyone linked to the foundation down. They were so close, i think he was too convinced her « self-pity » would mean her survival despite everything (« Do you have any other options? ») to see what was coming. After all, when they last met, he saw she was about to shoot him.

Sun-Ah was the only one he thought was ‘unpredictable’. When Gaon talked to CKH, he let him speak and approved his speech, surely thinking everything went along his plans and the minister would surrender. And i think that’s also why he gives Gaon all this speech, to reassure himself and them, since they work now as a team.

- Ep. 9 foreshadowing ep. 11 and 12 (Soohyun facing Yohan and Gaon). It’s interesting how the two shots from ep. 9 seem to put on the same plan the three characters, as if Yohan is literally standing between Soohyun and Gaon, as if he was the one protecting/separating him from Soohyun. This is very telling of the whole dynamic between those three.

- When the minister said she didn’t want to clear her name regarding her son in the live but still does so anyway, this is pure preterition haha! It’s also why she reminds the public opinion the first case Yohan handled!

- Cha Kyung Hee’s demise (ep. 11-4 parallels):

(+ a cinematographic reference to the 2000 movie Malèna, which was recently used in Hwasa’s MV for the song Maria)

- The scene right after where Soohyun wipes Gaon’s involvement to the suicide was moving in regards to her character, we get to see how torn she is by this situation + when she faces off Yohan in the parking (and the ‘let go’ could also have referred to Gaon) … i felt bad for her!

- About Soohyun & the professor: I find interesting the way the professor and Soohyun shelter Gaon’s existence was clearly shown with these two episodes and through their rage. At the beginning of the drama, their hold on his life’s values and choices was almost impalpable but not anymore, now that they’re facing Yohan’s threat.

In these shots, Soohyun looks like she is covering Gaon’s ear, turning him away and protecting him from outside (from the pain, Yohan, the rest of the world).

And on professor Min’s part, it’s almost infantilizing, de-responsibilizing Gaon to say the least (« What are you making Gaon do? That child has been through so much. He suffered and struggled through the worst to get there. »), given he’s the one who planted him on the court’s bench to find what’s happening behind the scene: he could have asked Gaon for explanations (as Yohan underlined, « Did you hear it from Gaon himself? ») but he just snaps at him. He should have foreseen that he could’ve taken Yohan’s side.

For his defense, his family just got targeted but still, it’s the first time Gaon came back since then!

(By the way, that whole conversation with professor Min confirmed to Yohan Gaon didn’t admit to their plan to Soohyun nor the professor)

As for Soohyun, her deep concern for Gaon makes her antagonize Yohan and, in her POV, it’s pretty understandable: her friend got locked up in this judge’s house for days with no phone or permission to go out + said judge seems to not let her niece go out with her new friends, got violent against Gaon + he seems to be plotting something behind the trials he biased + Gaon’s description of the man in the first episodes wasn’t that nice but DESPITE IT ALL her friend still seems to be empathizing with him?

She’s maybe thinking he got manipulated by Yohan given the evil picture he depicted her & must feel helpless in front of Gaon’s sudden change of heart. I think that’s what she wanted to ask him when she got cut by the professor’s arrival. The lack of honest conversation between them is what’s making it worse: on one hand, Gaon goes to her every time he feels sad or confused to get comfort & advice without telling what truly is going on (or eventually telling her when she insists), on the other hand, Soohyun always tells him to give up his investigation on Yohan and never asks him his point of view to understand the situation.

And she discovered he lied about him not being involved with this man in the worst way possible, finding him by CKH’s body with Yohan. He was her reason to dedicate her life to protect people under the law (he does not owe her anything in no way, but it was her wish), and she ended up dirtying her hands for him. Her gut reaction to her moral principles being violated by both Gaon and her right now is stronger than wanting to hear the truth from Gaon. She continues to investigate Yohan on her own, to protect him. It was interesting to see this sententious side when she confronted Gaon after all this! The only time Soohyun saw him cry and didn’t support him, it hits hard ;;

But i believe the whole crisis that’s happening by the end of ep. 12 will make them team up again at least for a while. And on that note, will she meet Sun-Ah? It would be interesting!

I’m glad the professor raised as a concern on the live trials the due process & fair trial, which are essential for the rule of law to prosper.

In fact, the live trials slowly become a place of majoritarianism/ochlocracy/mob rule as the cases progress (the two best examples being the actor and Juk Chang cases), the protests against professor Min are another example. Even if Yohan has the last word on the defendant’s sentence, this issue is still there.

Maybe the viewers’ voice will turn against Yohan one day?

- The minister … Even though the story showed us how cruel her family could be, i can’t help but feel sympathy for her son with her suicide. And that is accentuated by the fact her family’s grief is not even showed, covered by the mediatic chaos. She could have fled the country as her son suggested, but she thought she was « nothing » without her accomplishments and her path to glory. As the former president of the foundation killed by Sun-Ah’s hands, she died in her office as the Minister of Justice, while her image wasn’t torn to shreds yet. The photograph she held showed her at the center and, ironically, it’s the only figure from the photo who is clear-cut, her husband and her son are out of focus (or it could just be the episode’s image quality misleading me haha). Even though she loved them (well, at least in her manner, which was kind of narcissistic tbh), she cared too much for her success and her death was her act of self-pity.

- This isn’t the first time Gaon was warned about Yohan and i find it interesting it’s the people closest to him that say that, especially K despite (or precisely because?) his loyalty to him. Elijah also warned him before.

- The whole argument … It’s a progression of ep. 5 & 8 scenes (’will you stand in my way or stand on my side?’ & ‘i wanted you by my side and if i needed to, i would’ve done something worse’). You can tell how desperate Yohan was when he reached out to Gaon. His gaze faltered, showing his hesitation to do it, but as the realization he was going to lose him dawned on him, this touch became a necessity in front of the exigency, making up for everything he couldn’t say out loud. It was a sad & hurtful mess. Yohan truly looked short on ‘arguments’ after Gaon’s question (‘what kind of monster am i turning into?’), he seemed to not even know what to say to make him stay, making him pause before talking about Soohyun.

The way his eyes lit up, almost smiling, full of hope, when he finished laying his ultimatum and how he regained a composed expression, thinking Gaon would take his side maybe?

I didn’t catch it on the first time, but Gaon’s sadness to end/put a hold on their collaboration (thus their whole relationship, stepping out of his life) transpired through him weakly rejecting Yohan’s hand with his own hand sliding down the latter's arm, as if he was unwilling to let this life with the Kangs go. You can see it’s hard on him to leave with the tears in his eyes.

I think Gaon’s response outran his thoughts, as a quick riposte, it was to make Yohan stop this. The way things went (well, it escalated QUICKLY), hurting him like that was the only effective way, and he knows it will hurt him: before saying Soohyun is his world, he tears up because of that (in addition to everything Yohan said and it was A LOT), and didn’t even have the strength/will to get angry like all the previous times:

the fact Yohan laid this very ultimatum and wanted to persuade/manipulate him into thinking this was the only choice. Even if he knew Yohan would be capable of doing this since ep. 7-8 (”To achieve his goal, would he not use another man’s pain? If the devil really did exist among us.”), he got a confirmation and it still hurts.

+ the fact he knows he has to hurt him with something as much as hurtful before he takes it too far.

+ the fact he knows he can’t live in this house any longer because of this argument when he made all these memories with them.

And (let’s hope for it) if Gaon wants to show Yohan there’s another way out of this ultimatum, Gaon’s « Soohyun is my world » might be a counter ultimatum (‘to stay by your side, you’ll have to deal with my world because there must be another way, there is no question, or else you’ll have to deal on your own’). He’s still not said anything to Soohyun (well, he didn’t have the opportunity to anyway but even during their confrontation, when she asked for details, he said nothing) nor the professor, so maybe that’s it?

- « Of course it doesn’t matter to me, but … » ELIJAH NOOOOOOOO ;;;;;;;;; After Yohan, Elijah tries in her way to hold Gaon back — and she makes a valid point tbh (look at what happened by the end of the episode!), but seeing her putting all her efforts and realizing it’s failing is heartbreaking … Given the preview for ep. 13, please let me hope this conversation won’t be their last one!!

- Utter devastation when the next scenes show how Gaon still shines even in his absence: the « You never apologize » + the scene with the nanny & Gaon’s last prepared meal + Gaon’s portrait by Elijah … ugh

- Elijah’s painting game is too strong, can’t relate haha! I wish they could show the BTS for this painting, respect for the artist behind!!

- On metaphorical images, Gaon took care of the Kangs like he tended to his plants at home. On a regular basis, he provided them attention and care, making them lively as his plants got lush. On ep. 8, we got a shot of Elijah smiling at Gaon’s plants, sort of a confirmation she loved how their house became warmer since Gaon’s stay, which led her to open up to his uncle.

- Now they’re only four! It looks like the mafia game haha, i look forward (am i though?) to the day Sun-Ah sits by herself haha

AND THIS MAN

This is true pig behavior, especially considering Sun-Ah’s past … I felt her reaction when he said all this bs to demean her, she had all her struggles with men thrown back to her face, soiled by these « jokes ».

- The monsters, the abyss and Nietzsche:

« He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. », Nietzsche

- « I don’t care if humanity falls, as long as i have you two ». It was what he wouldn’t say to Gaon nor Elijah, and yet they’re his world! This sequence parallels Gaon’s inner wish when he leaves the Kang’s house + the flashbacks of his fond memories with the Kangs. Will Yohan give his vigilante ideals up for them? Will Gaon pursue this dream but in his own way that won’t threaten their « worlds »?

(Now we know what his whole world meant)

- The light from the chandelier (ie. their newfound family) is out of Yohan’s (metaphorical) reach, shown by its blurred silhouette, as if it’s gone from the room which regained its initial colder tones. But it’s not: once it’s made its way in the room, it remains and lingers, as a keepsake of the lost warmth. His fond memories with Gaon and Elijah flashed back through the window’s light.

On a similar note, Gaon’s room, albeit having warmer tones than the Kang’s ones since the beginning, looks dark too. The contrast with earlier episodes is clear. This reminds me of My Mister’s (SPOILERS) full shots of Lee Ji An’s room, getting warmer as she gets to know Park Dong Hoon, and losing all its fond colors when she has to leave for his sake. As if the room and inanimate objects were given life by their owner, imbuing them with their feelings. It becomes an outer expression of their feelings. Sorry for the rambling but i just love when they do that in fiction, and i think it sometimes leaves more impact to the viewers if emotions are conveyed through various angles (eg. through another character’s point of view, sounds, looks, the use of light i mentioned below, etc) !

- I wonder … since the flashbacks are giving us Gaon’s conscious point of view on this separation, was he awake when Yohan came back from his (forced) encounter with Sun-Ah? It’s a really minor point but it could be an interesting detail since this show always shows us there are some sides or spots to the stories we didn’t have yet!

The jenga scene also flashed back but this time we see Gaon’s POV seeing Yohan’s smile & we got Gaon’s angle when Yohan had a nightmare in ep. 5: while from Yohan’s POV, Gaon’s irruption truly felt like an invasion of his intimacy (the quick succession of shots expressing his panic and defensive reaction), from Gaon’s POV only one angle showed the scene, the tension was conveyed only when Yohan slapped his hand away.

We also got Yohan’s POV when he admitted to Gaon he needed him by his side (and a closer look at Gaon’s troubled expression)!

- Ep. 5 and 11-12 parallels:

Yohan’s tentative look at Gaon and Elijah playing outside, as if he wanted to join them like in ep. 11, the curtains mainly closed and only pushed by one of his hands. It let the daylight in his dark room through this sneak peek.

But in ep. 12, the curtains are drawn, Yohan taking the (moon)light fully in. And this time, he doesn’t reach out to his late brother in the flames, but to the moonlight. He gets up, as in a trance, from his nightmare like the last time, but he goes to his window instead. And it reminds me of both Huckleberry Finn’s OST’s (in Tempest, « you said i’ll live in the sun / moonlight » and in The Nights, « my / your night shines on you / me »), the suffer is here. And see how the light reveals his tear? I nearly missed it!

The fact he could not find sleep anymore after this night + he slept on his sofa where the moonlight could be seen + has kept his phone right next to him (in case Gaon called him or to know if something happened to him) ➾ 🌝 pure devastation 🌝

- I really love the show’s use of light/dark tones to reveal and contrast its characters’ emotions! What you can’t see in the light gets revealed in the dark, and vice-versa. The OST The Nights touches on this subject as well.

And it ties up very well to the plot so far: everyone has his or her own motivations and intentions, background, and makes choices, but depending on the perspective, their story changes and sparks off different reactions. Everybody’s story is interconnected.

As @skylessnights pointed out, one of the books found during the series (when Yohan revealed his past to Gaon if i’m correct), The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, depicts this angle well in its plot and epigraph: « Never again shall a single story be told as though it were the only one. » - John Berger.

When Gaon and Yohan go back to the mansion after CKH’s death, the route lights flash Gaon’s hands red, caught (literally) red-handed by Soohyun. He begins to recollect his recent memories of what just happened, and panics, short-winded, until Yohan touched his arm. He’s startled but calmed himself down, and we don’t hear him out of breath anymore. It’s interesting how the light’s focus was on Gaon’s hands, the core of his panic, until Yohan’s arm came into the light, as if our and Gaon’s attention went back to Yohan’s touch, his anchor in his panic, and begins to think clear-headed of what they had done. (btw, getting Phoenix Wright desperate vibes from Gaon’s pose haha)

Gaon’s emotions show when his phone lights up, trying to reach Soohyun again.

When Yohan’s inner wish brings him back to their happy times, the end of the flashback shows a shot of his eyes dazzled by the light of these memories and back to the present, the light now gone out from his eyes.

Yohan’s reaction to Gaon’s cry in the prison yard in ep. 7: what i loved to see was how his restraint told more about the emotions he held back. The light shifting on his face revealed his jaw clenching & frowned brows, his glassy eyes and him averting his gaze, which he often does when he’s in front of sensitive topics and it’s too much.

+ other instances he looked away:

When Jinjoo decides to accept the foundation’s offer, she steps into the dark side of the room where the two chairmen are. Up till now, she stood where the light could reach her, away from them. It symbolically seals her involvement with the foundation, and by the end of ep. 12, it is confirmed by her message on behalf of the foundation (about the plague) displayed on the screens. By the way, i love the fact so much things unfold while we focus on Yohan and Gaon’s story!

On the subject of ‘subjective’ truths, examples, besides the flashback with the priest about Yohan in ep. 11, could be the truth behind the cancellation of the donation by Yohan or Sun-Ah’s fall from the window when she was a maid. We got Sun-Ah, Elijah, and then later Yohan’s point of view.

- I think Gaon tried to call Soohyun and not Yohan (though the subs say otherwise) because the contact above has the ‘thug’ nickname with the fist emoji! It made more sense, Yohan would’ve answered right away! But i believe he will have regrets/worries in the next episodes (Yohan and Elijah seem to be getting in real danger so maybe he’ll come back to save them).

- Metatextuality in The Devil Judge — Beauty and the Beast (written by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont & Disney’s 1991 animation movie)

I’ve always loved transtextual relationships between fictions, my french teacher in middle school gave us this passion haha! Ever since i read this interview translated by @deviljudge, it’s true i’m getting more and more Beauty and the Beast vibes, especially from ep. 12’s argument (and the whole premise Belle got locked up in the mansion in the beginning)! The original fairy tale and Disney’s adaptation are both relevant, some plot points differ from one another (Belle’s sisters vs Gaston, the mansion personnel turned into living paraphernalia) even though the core of the fairy tale is left untouched but for the sake of this bit, i’ll use the 1991 movie because its inevitably longer format delves more into the fairy tale moral lesson.

(Cheesy time incoming haha) The beast lets Belle go see her father he knew she deeply cared about, and let her go because he realized he loved her. He thought she would never come back, but despite it all, she came back and saved him from Gaston. Belle (Gaon) broke the spell that was casted on the mansion (the Kangs and their loneliness, especially when Yohan said he’s tired of this house). Yohan fails at not hurting the people he cares about but learns step by step, by Gaon and Elijah's side, how to live again and reconnect with his ‘human’ side.

Even the secretary looks like the modern version of the whole cast in the Beast’s mansion (Cogsworth, Lumière, …) haha

The movie intro is self-explanatory:

« Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish and unkind. But then, one winter’s night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman’s ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the Beast concealed himself inside his castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his 21st year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast? »

Belle’s characterization in the movie is also interesting:

« With a dreamy, far-off look and her nose stuck in her book what a puzzle to the rest of us is Belle ».

« There must be more than this provincial life (…) I want adventure in the great wide somewhere — I want it more than i can tell — And for once it might be grand to have someone understand — I want so much more than they’ve got planned »

& when Belle got locked up in the mansion: « I’ve lost my father, my dreams, everything. » (similar to “Soohyun is my world”).

Gaon, since his parents’ death, lived his life believing in the illusion of justice the system gave him, along with Soohyun and professor Min, his two pillars who kept him steady this whole time. Once he was showed it was an illusion, he wanted to fight this world.

Before the movie’s climax, this conversation reminded me of ep. 12’s argument:

« - Belle? Are you happy here with me?

- Yes. [looks to the distance]

- What is it?

- If only i could see my father again just for a moment. I miss him so much.

- There is a way. This mirror will show you anything. Anything you wish to see.

- I’d like to see my father, please. [The mirror projects the image of his father in danger and sick] Papa. Oh no. He’s sick. He may be dying and he’s all alone.

- [Glances at the wilting rose] Then you must go to him.

- What did you say?

- I release you. You’re no longer my prisoner.

- You mean i’m free?

- Yes.

- Oh, thank you. Hold on Papa, i’m on my way.

- Take [the mirror] with you, so you’ll always have a way to look back and remember me.

- Thank you for understanding how much he needs me.

(…)

- I let her go.

- [Cogsworth] Yes, splen … You what? How could you do that?

- I had to.

- Yes but … Why?

- Because i love her. »

Yohan did nothing to hold Gaon back even if he needs him (as shown when he clutches his hands together after he left) because he was forced by Gaon to understand how precious Soohyun is to him, this point was already made multiple times in the series (when Gaon thought he was the one who pushed Soohyun in the stairs and already threatened him about it, when Gaon told him he couldn’t live as a conman in front of Soohyun and his parents). Since his ‘to have you by my side, i would have done worse if it was necessary’ + ‘this is a life or death situation, sacrifices are also necessary’, he seemed to think Soohyun was expendable in his own world, which he shared with Gaon. With this argument, his world looks definitely incompatible with the one Gaon described (« Soohyun is my world »), and even though they already went this far in their plan, he lets him go and respects his choice. Will it make him change for the better or for the worse? Will the whole ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ apply to him?

Other moments i found interesting to note:

« Come into the light »:

When Belle goes to save the Beast from the village:

« - Please, i know he looks vicious, but he’s really kind and gentle. He’s my friend. - - [Gaston] If i didn’t know better, I’d think you had feelings for this monster. - - He’s no monster, Gaston. You are! - - If you’re not with us, you’re against us. » (pretty similar to the professor’s rage in the hospital)

When Belle’s father goes to save her: « I don’t care what it takes. I’ll find that castle and somehow, i … I’ll get her out of there. » (when Soohyun talks about and to Yohan)

The Beast possessive behavior in the beginning of the story: « [To her father] She’s no longer your concern, take him to the village. » (similar to Yohan’s behavior towards Soohyun) & « [To Belle] The castle is your home now » (and towards Gaon)

A monster:

When the Beast observes Belle playing from afar:

- And i saw some Jane Eyre vibes (SPOILERS) from the whole fire haha + Wuthering Heights on Sun-Ah’s & Yohan’s mixed parts!

- And well … Sun-Ah’s character loosely reminds me of Simone in Nier Automata (which in itself is a reference to Simone de Beauvoir’s life and works), with the whole « I must become more beautiful / But he still won’t look my way », to whoever knows this game!

- These thigh boots holy hell Sun-Ah!!!! i loved this outfit!

- As soon as he said he didn’t feel anything from his revenge, K got the biggest death flag in this episode, i can’t believe they did this to the poor boy … When i asked for more scenes THIS isn’t what i meant aaaaaaaaaa

- A very random and weird note: Yohan’s almost silent and held back pain by the end of the ep. 12 fits his character so far, as well as his ‘calm’ tears. Given his past, it’s as if he’s always kept his pain bottled up and quietly bears it all and almost never got the space to properly let it all out (he had his brother, but with their father, i think they didn’t have this ‘chance’).

- My sick mind thought Sun-Ah was going to bring Gaon to the scene just in time for him to witness Yohan getting shot, but i guess it will be when she will get in the Kang’s mansion again according to the preview (since she asked Juk Chang for a « favor », i think they’ll knock Gaon out after beating him up for his own fun to leave him to Sun-Ah). Sun-Ah looked surprised when Jae-Hee shot him, so i guess only hurting K was part of the plan.

- The ‘I know i’m fucked’ look hahaha

+ the softer version:

- I now have BIG trust issues since these last episodes’ previews, and the cliffhangers kill me haha

- On another note, i find it amazing how Ji Sung and Kim Min Jung keep that upsetting atmosphere whenever there’s a scene between them that involves them and skinship, but it still conveys Sun-Ah’s complex feelings for Yohan and Yohan’s interest in her! The soundtrack really does a good job to convey that mood as well!

- In conclusion: How Dramatic do you want these two episodes to be? The devil judge: Yes

#the devil judge #tvn drama #my ramblings #got veeeeery long #i'm sorry

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mysmegrace · 3 years

Note

can i pls request the rfa comforting mc bc she is really stressed because of school (they find her crying because something a teacher said to her)

hello anon! of course! we've all been there and i know how overwhelming it is. if this is happening to you and you wanna chat, i'm always open <3 btw i'm gonna write the mc as a college student because of the romantic nature of this fic. if you would like another fic that has all the rfa members together helping you platonically, feel free to ask! stay safe <3

RFA Comforting an MC that is Stressed because of School

---

yoosung kim:

today was a tough one to say the least.

you were up until 2am last night doing an excessive amount of homework only for the professor to put you down for a few questions you got wrong.

as you laid in your bed looking out the window besides you, your mind keep replaying the scene over and over again.

almost like it wanted to torture you.

the professor piercing through your soul with the rage he held in his eyes.

the degrading words he spewed at you, calling you every insult in the book.

and worst of all, he did it in front of everybody.

you have never felt so embarrassed.

these replaying memories made you cuddle up with your bundled blanket and simply start to sob.

you couldn't understand why people were so cruel sometimes.

little to your knowledge, yoosung was planning a date night out to celebrate your 100th day anniversary.

the professor had got you so upset that you forgot about the occasion.

so low and below, 15 minutes into your sob session was when yoosung came in unexpectedly.

the flowers he carried in his hand quickly dropped.

he ran to your sobbing figure and gave you an awkward hug from behind.

that was when you came to your senses and shot right up.

he looked at you like he had just seen a ghost.

his forehead written with concern.

your tired red eyes were a clear giveaway of your upset state.

there was no way you were covering this up.

yet you couldn't continue holding back your tears in front of him.

so he brought you to his chest as you sobbed for the second time tonight.

throughout your cries, you were explaining what the day has done to you.

how the professor belittled you to the point you had been on the verge of crying yourself to sleep.

yoosung listened closely, rubbing your back while you got it all out.

he decided that the date night could wait, and he would dedicate these nightly hours to comforting you.

he give you many reassurances throughout your time together.

he always validated your feelings.

he always looked at you with intense love and care.

he always told you how smart and stunning you are.

his actions made you cheer up a bit.

you were still on edge, but you knew it would get better eventually.

everything would turn out okay with this man by your side.

hyun ryu / zen:

you were only on the bus coming home, but your tears already started to flow.

the professor made a complete mockery out of you.

you felt hurt to your core.

he insulted everything about you, completely going off.

at first, you figured he had a bad day and was just finding someone to let it out on.

but as the insults kept spewing, they became incredibly more personal.

nothing was safe.

the way your nose crunched when you smiled was "ugly".

the sweet tone of your speaking was deemed "annoying".

the way your hair bounced when you walked was seen as "repulsive".

nobody had hurt you so much and your mind couldn't cope with it.

through silent tears on the bus, as you reached your stop you stopped them within an instant.

zen would be waiting for you at home.

the last thing you wanted to do was make him worried about you with the addition of his insanely busy day.

repressing the tears, you eventually made it to the front door of your now shared home.

the door sounded when you arrived, alerting zen as he went to meet you at the doorframe.

you pulled out your most convincing fake smile and greeted him.

but you could tell when the mix of confusion and concern flashed over his face.

apparently your eyes had given you away.

but you didn't remember them being puffy or red.

however, zen knows you like the back of his hand.

like the soulmate he was, he could read your soul through your eyes.

he embraced you and encouraged you to tell him what was wrong.

but you wouldn't budge.

he gently tried again, but to no avail.

lost on what to do, he embraced you again.

but this time, he wasn't letting go.

and that was enough to make the tears start pouring out.

you were both standing in silence.

the only sounds bouncing off the walls were those of your tearing cries.

once you had calmed down a bit, he calmly asked you what happened.

and when you explained, his body filled with rage.

who let the professor be so rude to you??

in true zen fashion, his first instinct was to reprimanded the teacher face to face.

the sound of your next cry made him rethink his protentional course of action.

you were right here in front of him, so broken and hurt.

you were his first priority, not mr. dumbfuck.

and out came the words that always made you feel so loved and protected.

he reminded you of your beauty and his love towards you.

he had seen you as a goddess for the time since he's met you.

your evening was very laidback after the ordeal.

tonight would be focused on you.

jaehee kang:

you had been sitting up at your computer with the event that tore you down so significantly in the back of your head.

you couldn't take it anymore.

how could a person be so rude because of a simple mistake?

however, you couldn't just cry right here right now.

your love was sitting beside you afterall.

so you ever so subtly left the room.

you felt so numb while walking to the only room the insured complete privacy in the apartment.

or so you thought.

closing the door behind you, you were met with the reflection of your face.

the one he had broke apart and shattered.

you started to cry uncontrollably.

you watched as your eyes turned visibly irritated, your mouth turned downwards ever so slightly.

you felt so numb inside, yet the gem-like tear that rolled down your cheek was a reminder of your living form.

the noise leaving your mouth wasn't loud.

but it wasn't quiet.

however, it was enough for jaehee to hear.

confused, she left her chair.

the sharp pain in her shoulder was a reminder for her to get up and stretch a bit.

following the tears, her feet met the bottom of the washroom door.

knocking softly, waiting for an answer.

yet nothing but the crying noises rang out.

so she tried again, calling your name in the softest tone she could produce.

you heard.

and you were now in a state of panic.

how would you explain this to her?

you didn't want to get her involved or worried over you.

but you knew you eventually had to come forward to her face to face.

hesitantly, you opened the door.

just a crack.

not enough to expose the entirety of your broken face, but enough to make subtle eye contact.

your efforts were short lived.

she took the door, moving it open to see you fully a few seconds later.

her first thought was to hug you, hence the tight embrace you quickly found yourself in.

you couldn't hold it back any longer.

so you remained in her arms crying for the next couple of minutes.

not long after, you started spilling out the entire story.

she was enraged alongside you.

but, being more rational, she knew there was nothing much she could do about it.

so she just listened and understood you.

she validated your emotions, making sure you knew you weren't going crazy and that it was okay to feel upset.

eventually, you find yourselves on the washroom floor.

sitting together, basking in each others love.

your worries were washed away by the woman you would continue to love as long as your life allowed you to.

jumin han:

your soon to be husband was waiting for your presence with a bottle of wine to share for the evening.

the only thing he was waiting to be finished was your class.

he felt at peace knowing his private driver would be picking you up safely.

what he hadn't expected however, was the message he was given by the driver.

on the way to jumin's penthouse, the driver had quickly sent jumin a text.

the text read "i'm texting to briefly let you aware of mc's status. mc appears to be healthy but in an emotional state. i suggest you have tissues prepared for her."

you, on the other hand, had been getting ready to hide your upset state.

you knew the man jumin was.

he would have the professor fired as soon as he heard of the disgusting things he had said to you.

you were never one to escalate things to that extent.

you would rather let both parties go on with their lives.

plus jumin's schedule was stressful enough already.

you didn't want to add onto that.

so with your lines to convince jumin that you were alright, you got out of the car, swiftly heading up to the penthouse.

he greeted you with a sad expression.

almost as if he was prepared to be upset with you.

you gave a confused look, trying to convince him that sadness wasn't even on your mind.

his hand reached out to you, containing a tissue.

you, still giving off the vibe of "i'm not upset", pushed his hand back gently.

now it was his turn to be confused.

only his was genuine.

the tears were building up in your eyes.

"fuck, not now" you thought.

his hand reached out again, questioning you.

you couldn't hold up anymore and gave up on hiding it.

taking the tissue, you started balling your eyes out.

rambling words about your feelings towards what the professor said.

how he had brought your very existence down to nothing but dirt.

jumin was listening, but planning what he could do to the professor at the same time.

this behaviour was simply unacceptable.

you couldn't convince him otherwise.

but in the meanwhile, he was determined to comfort the crying beauty in front of him.

much like everyone else, he reassured you of everything.

you would never hear the end of it from him when it came to how talented and gorgeous you were.

and it didn't matter what anyone else said.

as long as he was by your side, you would survive.

it would be okay.

the rest of the night consisted of the constant reminder of your worth.

from sun rise to sun set, he would never look at another woman the way he did you.

saeyoung choi:

in some ways, online classes were harder than in person.

sure, online you could get away with cheating easier (though you were never like that), you could take naps comfortably in between classes, you wouldn’t have to get dressed.

looking at it like that, it doesn’t seem so bad.

unfortunately that was not the case for you.

your professor used this as an opportunity to diminish you to your core.

he would send you private messages talking about how stupid you were, how you failed in every possible way.

even going as far as saying you were a waste of space in the classroom.

that someone much better could’ve taken your place.

and all of that made online learning incredibly hard for you.

you would participate in classes from the side of your bed.

saeyoung laying right besides you, listening in like the goof he is.

even going as far as to help you.

today though, the professor got extremely bold.

he had moved from sending private messages to spewing hatred in front of the entire class.

and saeyoung heard all of it.

he reached over to your laptop and exited out of the classroom.

he didn’t want to listen to you endure that any longer.

at first, it looked like his words didn’t bother you.

perhaps you were used to it at this point.

but once saeyoung asked if you were okay, you couldn’t control the tears starting to run down your face.

you were so tired of being treated like shit, and saeyoung completely understood.

he was baffled that a professor would say something so cruel out in the open.

you two laid there in silence, a peaceful silence.

you explained how this had been happening for a long time.

however, you just wanted to get over it.

you went on with your day, but saeyoung could tell that it still bothered you.

so he did what he does best.

with a little bit of this and a little bit of that, you meet a new professor the next day.

he announced how he was taking the place of the previous professor after he had lost his job.

you turned behind you with a shocked smile, and saw the man you loved smirking like a child.

god you loved him.

#mysticmessenger juminhan jumin mysmejumin #mysme headcanons #jaehee kang #hyun ryu #yoosung kim #saeyoung choi #mysme imagines

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

I just found your account recently! I love your style of writing, and you portray the characters so well! Can I please make a request (if it suits you!!) for Dorian, Opal and Dariax with a reader when they take a watch together by the fire and the reader tells them they look pretty in the light? Just some soft feelings, words, maybe a kiss...?

Welcome and thank you! Hope you like this one just as much as the others! 😘

(Dorian)

The sounds of the night are accompanied by the soft strumming of strings and a hummed lullaby just quiet enough as to not wake the fast asleep companions, save for you and the bard himself. Someone had to take first shift and neither of you were opposed so you were put in charge of keeping the fire going and assuring nothing would succeed at brutally murdering you all. The latter seems to have become a serious concern you could do without. But at least it gives you evenings like these. Who wouldn’t appreciate a private concerto from your favourite genasi bard?

There you are, seated comfortably on a log staring over the flames, captivated by the melody, the nimble and practiced fingers plucking at the strings with an airy grace, staring into the night. The firelight hits Dorian just right. He reminds you of the sunset, right before the last light leaves the sky, that mix between the blue fading dark, with hints of reflected orange and gold; an image of true beauty. Were it not for that beautiful song keeping you grounded, you might as well have drifted into the ethereal and forgotten your task entirely. You find yourself humming along.

You’re pulled out of your trance by Dorian himself whispering your name. By the looks of it you had missed the first few times he called for you, the song coming to a close shaking you back to reality. Dorian had been a little louder than he intended to and you watch some of the others’ steer. Both of you share a look and hold your breath until you’re sure they’re still fast asleep. He beckons you over, something to say and not willing to take the risk of speaking just a little too loud again so you step over the sleeping bodies and find your way to Dorian’s side of the fire, sitting down next to him on the makeshift bench of a fallen tree.

“Hey, everything alright? Not to offend but you looked a bit out of it. Copper for your thoughts?” Dorian whispers as he absentmindedly plucks at the strings.

“Just deliberating wether you’re some sort of siren in disguise enchanting those who’s eyes fall upon your dashing looks and hear your angelic melodies or not.” Dorian’s very glad it’s dark but the fire still allows you visual of the lovely shade of purple he’s turning at the cheeks. He stops playing and puts the instrument to the side, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side. His plan to prevent you from seeing him so flustered fails as you only get a clearer view looking up at him with a smug grin.

“Is that your way of saying I’m pretty?” The first words may have been a bit more high pitched than he wanted to. You chuckle and feel Dorian’s knuckles jab playfully into your side. It doesn’t deter you from that smug sense of accomplishment remaining.

“Do I have to spell it out for you or would you prefer it in song?” You lean in, grabbing his chin and angling his face down closer to yours.

“I certainly wouldn’t be opposed-“ That’s all you need to hear before you close the distance, placing your lips on his. Dorian’s very happy you can’t see the blush grow or he might never hear the end of it. Your ability to get him all hot and bothered is something he both enjoys and fears but then there’s moments like these where he’s reminded exactly why he likes your occasional smugness.

(Dariax)

Dariax sits by the fire to preserve as much warmth as he can. The night is colder than expected and he had given you his blanket to stay warm yourself. He doesn’t regret the decision because you’re warm and comfy and that’s all worth suffering the cold but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t wish for some more warmth. Clutching his spear tightly to keep the blood flowing he stands sentry like a valiant guardian. Little does he know you’re still awake, or rather, awake again.

You hear the deep breaths being taken, sounds of movement; pacing. You open your eyes and there you are met with a sight you could wake up to more often. The gentle light of the flames highlight and shadow as they move in the breeze giving Dariax the appearance of a protector watching over you with an air of radiant divinity. There’s even a sense of grace. But you also see him shivering lightly.

Dariax watches you sit up and stretch your arms, blanket still in your grasp. You make eye contact and he offers you a smile. You pat the spot next to you on your bedroll and not one to question, Dariax does as suggested, sitting down next to you. You engulf him in the warm layers and feel Dariax relax just a little at the change of temperature. You lean your head on his shoulder and cuddle up against him as much as you can. He puts the spear aside and wraps one arm around you, the other holding the blankets close against himself. While he continues to keep watch you begin to drift off, not fully asleep, but more daydreaming of the divine sorcerer sitting next to you.

“You know you look real pretty, especially in the light of the fire, right?” You mumble and Dariax has to do a double take if he heard that right. Not that he’s not used to people calling him handsome or any variant of the term but more so you speak so openly and unrestrained.

“You sure you’re not still dreaming?” Dariax pushes back a laugh as he leans his head against yours. You’re cute when you’re sleepy and compliments like this from you are definitely something he could get used.

“If I am, it’s a damn good dream but I don’t think I am. You tell me oh-radiant one.” You smile leaning your chin on his shoulder and kissing his cheek feigning innocence and obliviousness. It’s definitely moments like these that have Dariax completely smitten by you and he’s not ashamed to admit it.

“One way to find out?” Dariax pinches you and you gasp. The audacity. You’re clearly awake now. Game over? Not yet. Dariax looks very proud of himself as you swat his arm but put your ‘dreamy’ face back on.

“Hmm. I don’t think I’ve been convinced.” Dariax does not like the mischievous grin peaking through. It’s a look he’s seen many a time and it’s always an omen for something you’re plotting. He fears for what he might have set in motion if you’re seeking revenge.

“Need me to pinch you again?” Dariax asks somewhat hesitant. Sometimes he’s really oblivious and it’s sweet but you might just have to take the lead here or you won’t get anywhere just yet. While Dariax is a very good flirt, being on the receiving end it may just take him a second longer to process. Don’t worry. You’ll help him out.

“I’ve got something else in mind.” You softly place your lips on his. That’s all the explanation Dariax needs. arm around you finds your back and pulls you just a little closer to deepen the kiss.

(Opal)

Opal is tossing and turning. What does she have to do for a nice and comfortable bed? The life of an adventurer is fun and all but she would really appreciate a soft mattress that doesn’t smell of grass, dirt or whatever other surface she has use as a base. Homegirl’s used to the fineries of societies so the life on the road is not and will never be her comfort zone no matter how many times she’s in the situation. She’s used to it though and she likes this life so she’ll accept and embrace every part of it.

Your attention shifts to the human at the sound of moving covers and groans of discomfort trying to find a more suitable position to fall asleep in as you keep watch. With a huff Opal sits up scrunching and readjusting, more like beating her makeshift backpack pillow in annoyance. She tries it one more time, putting her head down but still she doesn’t deem it right. Another huff and she sits up meeting your eyes. You offer her a nod and she grumbles, gets up and places herself next to you.

Grabbing a stick on her way Opal prods at the fire, the flames responding in a small burst of embers but you’re in safe range. Opal relaxes a little having found company in you and something to focus on rather than wallow in annoyance. She doesn’t say anything but the half smile she offers you is enough to make you feel appreciated for just being there.

Opal returns her focus to the flames staring into them getting caught up in her own wandering mind you watch. You can’t help but notice how the flames enhance the opalescent… everything to her, through a beautiful glow. She looks like a living breathing jewel. Just simply breathtaking. Don’t get this wrong, Opal is pretty no matter what. This is simply another angle you had never seen before, the way the light of the fire hits her features just right and how the flames reflect in her eyes, the sparks of ember changing that flow every so often, she’s a true visage.

“Hey, Opal?” She looks at you. “I just wanted to say you look lovely.” Opal lights up at the compliment with a warmth akin to that of the fire in front of you both. She knows damn well she’s gorgeous and looks aren’t everything but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy the compliments you offer her. If anything, she really enjoys it coming from you and makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Why thank you. I have to say you look amazing yourself. What can I say, this light does great things for us gorgeous people.” There’s a hint of jest in her voice as she brushes a hand through her hair, pursing her lips with a wink. You hold back a laugh at the joking self-obsessed tone she uses.

“Even the light of a fire dulls in comparison by the shine of the Gem of Byroden.” You hold the back of your hand to your head as if you’re about to swoon. The gesture sends Opal into a muffled giggle fit as you quickly cover her mouth.

“Shhh. Let’s not wake the others.” You whisper. Opal pulls your hands away, checking over the others as she kisses your palms and making sure the others are still asleep. Luckily they are. Unsatisfied with just your hands to kiss she pulls you closer and kisses your lips instead silencing your surprised squeal.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #exu x reader #exandria unlimited x reader #dorian storm x reader #dorian x reader #dariax x reader #dariax zaveon x reader #opal x reader #critical role #exu #exandria unlimited

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

The Cowboy - Part 11

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol) – highly suggestive scene and the angst train is back in action for this part

Word count: 2470

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

The celebrations continued even once you were back in Blayne. News travelled that Jaehyun had come in fourth with his score at the rodeo, earning him a cash prize and a qualifying ticket. When his truck hurtled down the main street, the evening was brighter than usual.

You peered curiously at Avery and then at the diner’s lights. “Shouldn’t that be closed by now?”

“They’re waiting for us,” he mentioned with a loose grin, and you blinked blankly. “To celebrate!”

“Oh! Right, of course. Everyone knows you’ve done it.” Glancing over at Jaehyun, who had been mostly silent for the ride home, you gave him a small smile before swallowing down your emotions.

Once you had pulled away from that life-altering kiss, Jaehyun had been taken in one direction and you in the other. He had interviews to do, and people within the circuit to meet with. Although the sun had still been out when he had finished his run, dusk had swooped in and carried it away by the time you were finally loading back up into the truck.

There was so much to talk about with Jaehyun.

“We won’t stay for long,” he announced when he parked the truck into the free spot outside the diner, and a small gasp left you when you found the place bustling with people.

Avery smirked. “We’re a tight-knit community. We celebrate everyone’s successes like this.”

“And everyone’s misfortunes too,” Jaehyun muttered, plastering a smile on his face before opening the door to the truck.

You hesitated to get out, and Jaehyun turned back to look at you questioningly. Rubbing your neck, you pointed awkwardly to the party. “Should I come in or wait out here?”

“Why are you even hesitating? You’re part of this world now.”

Still unconvinced, you took the hand he offered to help you down and then nodded softly, feeling rather subdued despite the happy atmosphere.

The noise once you were all inside increased tenfold, party poppers and streamers going off around you both. Jaehyun laughed and held out his arms to the heavens. “Looks like I’m still pretty decent, huh?!”

And then you lost track of all the conversations that began around you. Jaehyun was proudly talking about his run and Avery had shown everyone the recorded clip of it. You nodded and clapped along when prodded to join in, but remained on the outskirts.

It was foreign for you to see so many people come together like this to support each other. Sure, you had friends and family, but even then, it was never like this. A text to say congratulations when you got a promotion from your parents or some quiet drinks with a few friends to celebrate an award you had received. Nothing as loud as this.

You realised you craved this more than what you had back home. The community here was one that cared about each other. Even if they gossiped endlessly and had no filter at times, each person within the diner cared about the one they sat or stood next to. They had grown together, shared their burdens and prevailed against the odds as one.

It amazed you how much you still had to learn about Blayne even after living here for a couple of months.

“Y/N, did you enjoy the rodeo?” a voice asked, and you turned, smiling warmly at June.

“It was quite the experience.”

“You look rather exhausted.”

You nodded once. “A little.”

“Jaehyun, can you run Y/N home now?”

“Oh no! This is all about him, and I’m fine. Honestly.”

Jaehyun was at your side almost immediately, and he grinned. “I bet this is all too much for Miss City here. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

“But-!” you exclaimed as he gently tugged you out of the seat you had managed to secure earlier, dragging you to the exit with a hasty farewell. He opened the door to the truck and helped you in before rounding the other side and climbing aboard.

You stared at him. “You don’t have to-”

“My Mum is a gem, isn’t she?” he stated with a small smile, waving to those inside the diner. “She always finds ways for me to escape.”

“You mean her coming over to me just now was…?”

Jaehyun grinned. “Thanks for saving my butt tonight. I get really uncomfortable after an hour of being praised. It feels foreign to me.”

“Why? You’re the golden boy. No one can touch the Jung’s.”

Jaehyun smiled sadly as he started down the road. “Attention isn’t something much that I enjoy.”

“It sure looks like you did at the rodeo,” you mentioned, and Jaehyun shook his head, changing gear on the truck before reaching for your hand.

You could tell he had been craving your touch for some time.

“I wanted to have some time with just you earlier than this.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I need to be anywhere else.”

Jaehyun sighed. “Don’t you have people waiting on you though?”

“People where?”

“Back in the city. Your work colleagues, your friends, your family. They’ll need you.”

“I miss them, for sure. Especially Natty. But it’s not like it is out here. Relationships are different.”

“We’re different?”

“Well I’ve never met a cowboy in the suburbs,” you teased, and Jaehyun chuckled.

“What you said earlier, what we did, I get it was the heat of the moment. A different atmosphere than what we both usually-”

“Are you backing out on me, Mr Cowboy?” you asked firmly, and Jaehyun glanced at you several times before stopping the truck in the middle of the country road.

“I’m giving you an option if you want to take it.”

“Didn’t you give me that once you ducked under the bar and came to my side?”

“You’re serious?”

“You don’t think I could love you already?” you proposed, staring intensely at the man beside you.

Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, only to close it a moment later. He grinned. “You’ve rendered me speechless.”

“Why? Because you hoped I didn’t?”

“No, I hope you fall madly for me.”

“I’m well on my way,” you confirm, and Jaehyun shook his head incredulously. “What? Has no woman ever told you that they like you?”

“I’ve never felt deserving of it, no.”

“You and that self-worth of yours,” you muttered, reaching over to cup his jaw in your hand. Jaehyun caught your gaze, and you smiled. “I love you.”

“I don’t think that’s ever going to get old to hear.”

“You’ve not said it back once,” you pointed out, and Jaehyun chuckled.

“You’ve been waiting for it, huh?”

“Normally most people describe it as one says I love you, and the next says it back. I’ve seen enough movies about it,” you mentioned as Jaehyun finally started to drive again, soon heading down the start of your driveway.

“Claim? How come you sound as if you haven’t said anything like this before?”

“Because I haven’t,” you confessed, and Jaehyun stared at you then. You darted your gaze to the drive and reached for the steering wheel to balance the truck out. “Would you watch where you’re going?!”

“Would you stop making my heart swell so much?” he breathed, and you chewed on your lip quietly, Jaehyun taking back the wheel and gripped it tightly.

The energy was charged between you by the time he turned off the ignition and opened the squeaky truck door, you soon following him out.

Stretching your fingers out to try and loosen some of the tension coiling up within you, you both walked side by side up the porch and over to your front door.

“Well, if you’re exhausted, I should let you rest,” Jaehyun stated, and you nodded numbly, reaching in your purse for your keys.

“I had a good time. Thanks for taking me.”

“Sleep well, won’t you,” he said as you opened the front door, stepping over the threshold and taking hold of the wooden frame. You turned to glance back at Jaehyun, the deep way he looked at you causing your stomach to flip.

He didn’t move, however, and you slowly moved the door to close it until his hand reached out and stopped it, your heart now pounding with anticipation.

“I’m so in love with you,” he confessed hurriedly, stepping over the doorframe and picking you up in his arms.

You curled your limbs around him effortlessly, kissing him with demand as he shut the door, hands roaming and tugging at the clothes between you both.

It felt like too much effort to follow the path up to the bedroom, Jaehyun acting disorientated as he moved around the place, shedding your upper clothing in the process. Somehow you ended up in the kitchen, a moan leaving you as he propped you down on the countertop, your hands finally ridding him of the singlet that had been under his rodeo shirt.

He equally had removed your bottoms, staring at you in a way that made you feel like the only woman made for him. You embraced him as soon as he was close enough to, and Jaehyun groaned into your ear. “I’ve been in love with you for some time now.”

“It’s not a race. Just because you hold a record around these parts, doesn’t mean you need to prove you beat me to feel something back for you.”

“You’re something else you know that? Who knew you’d come into this town and change everything for me?”

“Whatever happened to the guy who told me I wouldn’t last a month?” you breathed out, arching your back as his mouth trailed from your neck to your chest.

Jaehyun smirked at you then, his hands moving to cup your breasts within them. “You made sure about adapting to this place.”

“It’s not so bad. I mean, sometimes I would kill for the accessibility of the city, and have a Starbucks nearby. The smell sometimes out here is something I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to either.”

“I feel there’s a but attached here,” he mused, reaching up to kiss your lips passionately. It was strange to be having such a conversation with the temperature and physical needs between you increasing.

Yet when you pulled back for more air, you beamed at him. “But I’m falling in love with this place, this town, and your people. I couldn’t imagine my life any other way now.”

The new week began, and you felt as if you were riding along on cloud nine. Everything was beautiful out here. You worked, you explored, and you loved long into the summer nights with Jaehyun. Your riding lessons continued, and now that you had the hang of loping, you would often feel exhilarated riding Roger. You felt free and empowered.

Blayne was more than just a small blip on any map.

Despite it all, you still regarded the reason you came here as a priority. With your plan neatly tucked into your briefcase, and slipping into one of your more casual business attires, you looked into the mirror of the bathroom and smoothed down your hair.

“Today’s the day,” you told your reflection, smiling brightly.

Everything about you felt ready right now. You had all the signatures you had sought out, and word had travelled enough for Mr Jung to reach out for this meeting to happen a day earlier.

Today you would get the piece of land you needed to start the redevelopment.

You drove to the Jung’s homestead with your game face on, your finger tapping on the steering wheel repeatedly. You hummed a tune to yourself and ran through the opening part to your proposal in your head. When you parked the car, you smiled brightly at Avery when you crossed him on the yard, but he didn’t return the gesture quite as genuinely.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” you greeted all the same, and Avery grimaced.

“I think you might need to prepare yourself.”

“Oh, I’m completely ready for this,” you assured him, but Avery shook his head.

“Not for your plan. Listen, Y/N, things have-”

“You’re here,” Mr Jung cut in, and you turned your attention to the elder, nodding confidently at the man. “Come inside.”

Following him in and frowning at Avery’s worried expression, you stopped midway in taking the seat across from Mr Jung’s desk when you noticed Jaehyun sitting in the one next to it. “What are you doing here? I can pitch my idea to your father alone.”

“Pitch your idea?” Mr Jung repeated, laughing hollowly. “I didn’t ask you here today to listen to any nonsense about the resort plans your company has. I have no interest in them.”

“With full respect, Mr Jung, I’ve worked incredibly hard with the people of Blayne to find a happy medium.”

“And just how many of them did you sleep with or was it just my boy here?”

“Dad!”

“No. I want to hear it from her. Was it in the plan you made to sleep with my son to get the land, to trespass onto what can never be yours, and fool this idiot into thinking you could actually have something together?”

You were rendered speechless, your game face falling away and crumbling into a thousand pieces. You tried to say something, anything, to not only prove your sincerity but to defend yourself against his vicious attack.

However, Mr Jung’s tongue wasn’t done yet, and he glared at his son, shaking his head slowly. “I should have left you to die in that fire you started. If this was how you wanted to end Blayne, I’d much rather you have gone up in smokes back then than face you and your betrayal now.”

The information stunned you further, and your head jarringly turned to the man now sobbing in the chair beside you. “You were the one to start the fire?”

“It’s not how you see it!” Jaehyun exclaimed, though to whom, you didn’t quite know.

Regathering yourself, you shook your head. “Mr Jung, please allow me to explain myself, as you requested earlier.”

“You have nothing of worth for me to listen to. I’d like for you to pack your bags and be gone from Blayne before sunset.”

“Excuse me?! Surely I can do something to change your opinion-”

Mr Jung slammed his fist down on the table. “Outsiders like you only cause problems for the people who breathe for this place. Get out and don’t come back.”

Glancing at Jaehyun, who was rocking back and forth in his chair holding his head, and then back at the resolute expression on the owner of this land’s face, you finally allowed your emotions to burst through, choking on the sob that followed.

“I’m so sorry!” you announced before turning for the door and running out it.

_________________

Part 12

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lunewell · 3 years

Text

The Lunewell Saga - Natura: Chapter 1

Finally, finally I can show you guys a preview of the horror book I’m publishing in October (:. You can find chapter 1 below, and if you’d prefer, you can read it on ao3 by clicking here!

Chapter 2 is now out and can be found here (:

Enjoy!

Book Sumary:

Zarifa Birch, an antique shop worker with an unusual past, has made a home for herself in the sleepy town of Lunewell. Though the shop she works at is not exactly ordinary, with cryptid items and odd occurrences, she has managed to carve the normal life she always desperately wished for out of it.

However, all that comes crumbling down, as a woman from Zarifa’s past throws everything into chaos. Faced with unimaginable horrors, seemingly unsolvable mysteries, and returning repressed feelings and memories, Zarifa along with her coworkers, must find a way to return the balance- and escape the cruel hands of death in this eldritch horror mystery.

Chapter 1:

Thorn’s Antiques and Restoration, tucked away in the tall trees that encircled the small town of Lunewell, wasn’t the place where one would expect a woman like Zarifa to work. The building was merely a converted two-story brick house, though even then the antique shop itself only operated on half of the ground floor and the basement, and the employees could consider themselves lucky if even so much as a single soul wandered in.

From an outsider’s perspective, it made no sense. Zarifa did not originate from Lunewell, had little to no interest in antiques, and had a Bachelor’s in English of all things, whose only tie with antiques was the pompous, ivory tower assholes pestering both fields. However, if said outsider were to ask Zarifa herself, or any other of the two working in the building, why she had this job, she would have said that it was the only path she could have ever imagined herself working.

Though even she had to admit, for as much as she loved her job, it could sometimes be… tedious.

Very tedious.

“How many crates of… art did we receive again?” Zarifa asked, white patched ebony fingers holding one of the many, many paintings of eerily realistic human eyes shoved haphazardly in a box. The crates had arrived this morning, heavy and worn, and were sitting in the off-white ‘employees lounge’, that only equated to a singular desk, a sofa, a microwave that never heated all the way through, and two uncomfortable plastic chairs.

“Only two,” Bruin responded, not bothering to look up from the wooden desk, where he had his nose buried deep in a black title-less book. Zarifa would have asked what he was reading, but stares through dark thin eyes and sighs had long taught her not to. “Bought in by an Anthony Bell earlier this morning.”

“Thank you,” Zarifa said, giving Bruin a warm smile that didn’t go noticed. She then turned to her other coworker, who had been sitting sheepishly on one of the back-destroying white chairs. “Why do we have two crates of creepy eye-paintings, again?”

“Okay there’s actually a good reason this time boss,” Grant said hastily, chestnut brown hair messy and glasses half sliding off his face, “I was taking a walk to that cosy little bakery- you know, the one owned by that very sweet elderly couple on the other side of town, which by the way makes cakes straight from the heavens-”

“So you were walking to the bakery, and then?” Zarifa interrupted.

“Oh right. I had walked a little ways from the house, when I saw a white van stopped up by the road with a man looking quite pissed off outside. I went up to have a chat with him and found out he was an absolutely fascinating art major named Anthony who had run out of petrol. To make a long story short, I invited him in for a cuppa whilst he waited on the towing truck, found out he was getting rid of these absolute gems, and bought them off him.”

Zarifa and Bruin, who had finally looked up from the pages, both stared at him. Bruin was the first to break the silence; “you bought antiques from an unverified source, in a van out of petrol, who you also invited inside my home for tea?”

“Hey! I pay the rent too!” Grant defended, “and besides, I got, you know, the feeling off him. There was already a description of the antiques inside the box, meaning they’ve been passed around a little. If you two don’t want them here, I can take them.”

“We can keep them,” Zarifa decided, looking at the realistic paintings once more. They were all extremely similar, each one having a blue iris and white pupils. As she moved around the box, it almost felt as though they were all following her movements. She shivered and put the lids back on; “I’ll carry this down. Grant, go open shop, and Bruin, go register these in the system, please.”

Grant gave her a mock salute, before trudging out of the door and into the shop room, whilst Bruin nodded and turned to the big, archaic box of a computer sitting on the desk. Zarifa stacked and grabbed the two worn crates, surprisingly light in her arms, and made her way to the spiral staircase. They were narrow, seemingly ever looping steps falling into darkness that made walking down them almost impossible. She had once tried to convince Valour to install some lights over the stairs, to reveal the actual length of them and to make sure Grant would stop tumbling down into the abyss, but she had only received a stern no and an icy glare that could kill.

So her only options were to walk down carefully, whilst gripping onto the wall for dear life, like she was currently doing. The stairs went on for what seemed like minutes, nothing in her sight as she was swallowed in complete darkness, with no way to judge her surroundings except her shoes hitting the steps. Finally, a flickering light made its way up the stairs, and she saw the start of grey concrete.

To say the archival basement was lit, was perhaps a bit of an overstatement. There was precisely one dim and occasionally flickering lamp in the room, slightly illuminating cobwebs glued to the walls and dusted shelves of antiquities, but not much else. However, the room was like a scorching desert sun compared to the void Zarifa had previously descended.

Making her way between the shelves, past the bag of hand-sewn doll-heads, slightly cracked vases, and mirrors so ladened in dust that one couldn’t see the distorted reflection anymore, she found a small group of paintings. Paintings were one of the rarer antiques for them to receive, so there was plenty of space for the two crates.

Before slotting them in, she opened them, quickly counting the amount. There were fourteen in total, seven in each box, all in a roughly similar condition and all painted in the same way. Oddly enough, there was no signature nor name, but there was a little slip of paper at the bottom. She picked it out of the crate, and stuffed it in the pocket of her blazer, before closing the lids again.

Zarifa slid the boxes between a painting of a single red rose titled ‘Chaos’, and a two-hundred-year-old painting titled ‘A Girl in Field’ containing a suspiciously girl-less field. There had been a debate on whether they were all just missing her, whether it was a mislabelled piece, or if it was supposed to be some kind of metaphor, but seeing as it was hardly the weirdest thing in the basement, they had all just grown to accept it. She shivered once again, the basement giving the feeling of being watched, and grabbed the golden butterfly that hung around her neck. She fiddled with the wings, every touch calming her slightly as she began making her way up the stairs.

The ascent up the spirals always seemed to take a considerably shorter time, perhaps because the imminent danger of falling had disappeared. Zarifa was up at the top in the blink of an eye, walking into the lounge to see both Bruin and Grant inside. Bruin turned to her from the computer; “‘Antique Eye-Painting x14’ has been written on the document,” he informed. “Did we have any other information?”

“I couldn’t find any signature or date on the painting itself,” Zarifa said, reaching into her blue blazer pocket and pulling the paper with a heavy brown tint out, “but there was a note accompanying it. The paper looks old enough to consider it an antique, at least.”

“Well, go ahead,” Grant piped up from the couch, “tell us about dear Anthony’s creepy eye pairings.” Zarifa nodded, unfolding the paper as carefully as she could, and began reading.

‘The Grey Man’ by Elizabeth B.- 1885

He is watching from the water. Watching with the trees.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The Grey Man is knocking

“Grey Man?” questioned Zarifa, “that’s not a reference to anything, is it?”

“Not as far as I know,” Grant said, sitting up from where he had flopped on the couch, “help us out Bruiny?” She heard a sigh from the corner, and a slight grumble, but he did eventually speak.

“The Grey Man isn’t a reference to any historical event, no,” Bruin began, “but it isn’t something we haven’t heard before. I believe it’s referenced somewhere in Valour’s notes”

A heavy silence fell over them at the mention. “Oh no,” Grant began, “no, no, no. The weirdly detailed cult worshipping cows with inverting eyes was enough, and the murderous glare Valour gave me afterwards almost made me piss myself. I am not going through those notes again, I don’t want to be skinned alive by our own version of Leatherface.”

“That’s a bit far, isn’t it?” Zarifa said, “We shouldn’t go around accusing her of being a murderer, just because she’s a bit…”

“Mental?” Bruin quipped from the back.

“...peculiar,” she settled on, “she’s a bit peculiar.” Zarifa knew, of course, that calling Valour peculiar was a massive understatement- and even calling it a massive understatement was a massive understatement, but she would not be the one to speak ill about her boss with a potential murder streak thank-you-very-much.

“Need I remind you of that day Valour came covered head to toe in ‘red paint ’ that smelled suspiciously like copper?” Grant said, “she obviously did some serial-killering-“

“Killering?” Bruin asked with a cocked brow, turning Grant a salmon shade of pink and bringing a bright smile on Zarifa’s face that reached her dark brown eyes.

Grant made sounds akin to a drowning man. “It doesn’t matter,” he finally sputtered out, “what matters is that our dear creepy landlord was covered in what was clearly blood, passed it off as paint, and we just acted like it was normal!”

“I don’t like it either, but I’m not going to be the one to call her out. Besides, maybe it’s a good thing. At least the days here are... interesting.” Zarifa said with a smile. “If we stopped the weirder stuff from happening, these days would pass slower. Especially since we don’t have any custom-“

The sound of the bell that hung above the door, a loud and horrid thing, rang through the building.

“You were saying?” Bruin said, looking as amused as Bruin could be. Meanwhile, Grant shot up like a puppy, sprinting in an unprofessional manner towards the counter. Zarifa joined him, though her walk was much more slow and graceful.

She crossed through the shop door, which always stood wide open nowadays, and turned the corner. However, she stopped before she could reach Grant, who was staring at the stranger as much as she was.

Now, what needs to be said and understood about Thorn Antiques Shop, and the town of Lunewell in general, was that strangers were one of the rarest sights. Sure, occasionally one could find one of the neighbours’ relatives, or a gang of cyclists and hikers, and even tourists that had gotten hopelessly lost, which was impressive considering landing in Lunewell was a skill within itself, though these were few and far in between.

The customer, who was scanning through the shop with what Zarifa could almost call interest, didn’t look remotely like a relative, a hiker, a cyclist, or even a lost tourist.

She was short, with strawberry blonde hair tied into pigtails by two baby pink ribbons, pale but warm skin that made the light freckles on her cheek pop, and a stark black leather jacket which was visibly well-loved. There was something incredibly familiar about her, though Zarifa couldn’t pin down exactly what it was.

The customer’s fingers trailed over one of the antique chairs, before she sprawled over the priceless thing like a rag-doll. The violation snapped Zarifa out of her trance; “Excuse me, miss, but you can’t sit in those chairs!” she informed the customer, her voice raising a pitch higher when the blonde started fiddling with a lighter suspiciously close to the fabric.

The customer’s head snapped up like a predator hearing prey, and for the first time, Zarifa noticed the woman’s eyes. The irises were a bombastic explosion made of hues of bright green, though it was almost impossible to tell from a first glance, as the pupils were blown so wide as to make the colour but a ring around a black hole.

There was both something incredibly dangerous about the way she stalked over, sizing her up with those void eyes, but simultaneously, something incredibly intriguing- dare she say attractive- about the girl that made Zarifa want to keep her eyes on her forever.

“Waste of a good chair, really,” the customer began, leaning over the counter, “what the fuck kind of shop doesn’t allow you to test the chair before you get it?”

“I know!” Grant exclaimed, turning to the dark-skinned woman. “That’s what I keep saying! How can I know if the chair is good if I’ve never tried it!”

Zarifa shot a disapproving look at him, irritated that he would encourage this girl. “What can we help you with, miss?”

“Oooh, miss.” the woman drawled, “I’m looking for a collection of very… special papers that I left in the hands of one Valour Thorn a few years back.”

“Special?” Grant asked, a look of confusion passing over his face. Zarifa was sure she mirrored the same puzzlement, but the woman merely grinned- an expression that yet again invoked that familiar feeling.

After a few seconds had passed, and it had been made clear that she would not elaborate, Zarifa grabbed the notepad and pen on the counter and asked for her name. Maybe she was registered somewhere in the frankly ancient system. Assuming they even had a sort of registering system. She had never been the one to handle the technical aspects.

“Lottie. Lottie Rose,” she said, and Zarifa’s hand froze on the paper. She glanced back up at the blonde, eyes wide and mouth dry. Of course, how hadn’t she seen it earlier? The clothes, the eyes, the lighter everything suddenly made more sense as her memory flooded back.

“Lottie?” she whispered, faint as the whispers of a breeze, and there must have been something in her tone, because the striking green eyes widened comically, before the blonde suddenly burst out into a tension filled laugh.

“Should’ve guessed it,” Lottie said after calming down, “can’t be that many Southern old-book nerds with vitiligo around. You should get name tags, I would have recognised Zarifa anywhere.”

Her name was said in a smaller tone, filled with… with something that melted Zarifa’s insides like molten lava. They stood there in silent pressure, eyes on each other but gazes not quite meeting. It was for the better, as Zarifa’s heart was hammering hard enough that she was worried her ribcage might break. Whether it was from fear or something much scarier, she couldn’t quite tell.

Grant snapped his fingers, both of them practically sighing in relief as the tension lifted; “Oh”, he began, smiling widely, "exes or childhood friends?” And just like that, the tension was back to crushing.

While Zarifa wasn’t quite sure of the state of her own face, Lottie had gone a complete shade of tomato red. “We’re neither,” Zarifa squeaked out curtly, Lottie nodding frantically along. “Can you give me a description of the papers?”

Lottie straightened out at the request. “Can’t miss them. They’re in an ornate wooden and gold box, with a leaf engraved in the front,” she said, “it’s locked, as far as I know. Don’t know where the key is, but that’s hardly a problem.” She made yet another predatory smirk.

“I-I’ll go look for the papers, uh, in the back... miss,” she pushed herself from the counter at an almost inhuman speed and paced into the lounge. On her way, she bumped into one of the chairs, toppling both herself and the object. The sound alerted Bruin, who looked at her quizzically.

“Was she your ex?”

“No!” Zarifa exclaimed exasperatedly, “Not every woman I know is an ex!”

“No need to get defensive,” Bruin said, flipping a page, “I was just wondering if Grant’s observations were correct.”

Zarifa took a deep breath. “Sorry about that. I suppose her visit just… surprised me.” she straightened the chair, and looked at Bruin, “You haven’t seen a wooden and gold box engraved with leaves around here, have you? I can’t recall it, but you’re usually the one sorting the items, so I figured you might have seen it.”

Bruin hummed, putting down his book and looking pensively at her. “I might have,” he said, after a quiet moment, “though if we do- or did, at any point, it’s not anywhere in the basement.” He glanced up at the ceiling, before returning to the book.

“I suppose it’ll be upstairs, then,” Zarifa said, with a heavy sigh, “I’ll make Grant call Valour, see if she can bother to show up from… wherever she’s gone.” And try to explain to Lottie that those papers might be inaccessible, she thought, but didn’t add. Lottie was a lot of things, but patient and calm, she was not.

As she made her way back to the counter, gripping the golden butterfly hung on her neck tightly, she tried to calm her heart and thoughts. A part of her still refused to believe Lottie was here, after all these years, in an antique shop of all places. It almost felt taunting, in an odd way. The life Zarifa had tried so hard to run from and avoid sneaking through the door, looking more dangerous and simultaneously more intriguing than ever.

What life had Lottie led? What had happened since that last night? How did she know Valour? What did she want with the papers? All the questions buried themselves into Zarifa’s head, burning and begging for answers. And as Lottie, drumming her fingers on the counter as Grant rambled off about something, came into view, she realised what Eve must have felt like looking at the apple.

Lottie perked up as Zarifa entered the room, though as her eyes drifted to the empty hands, her smile fell. “Thought I asked for a box,” she said, a raised eyebrow and mean glare that would have been intimidating, had Zarifa not had to deal with years of Valour, and not known that for her, Lottie was all growl.

“We do, most likely, have the box,” Zarifa began in her most soothing voice, placing her hands on the counter, “but, it’s currently upstairs, in Valour Thorn’s flat, to which none of us has the keys.”

Lottie sighed, in an exasperated and slightly overdramatic way; “‘Course you fucking don’t. Guess she hasn’t changed at all, still closed off, disappearing, and secretive.”

Pot meet kettle, thought Zarifa, though kept her cranberry painted lips sealed. “Grant will give her a call in the morning,” Zarifa said, pushing over a blank slip of paper which had Lottie R- half-written on it in quite nice penmanship. “Just write down your number, and we’ll call you when she arrives.”

Lottie pulled the paper closer to herself, though made no move to write. “Think she’ll even show up?” she asked, turning to Grant, who smiled at that.

“Valour actually seems to like me,” he said, proudly, “or, tolerate, at least.”

“Huh. Didn’t know people still practised witchcraft around this part.”

“It’s all in my muffins, cakes, and pitiable nature,” Grant said, only half-joking, “I’ll give you a taste one time if you decide to stick around.”

Lottie nodded, before scribbling onto the paper, and sliding it back. It contained no number, but the name had been completed, albeit with a much sloppier if artistic handwriting. “I’ll know when she returns,” Lottie said, bouncing from foot to foot. There was a firmness in her voice, and she said it with such confidence that Zarifa almost believed her. Almost. “How’s the nightlife here? Worth sticking around for?”

“Horrid, simply dreadful,” Grant butted in, before Zarifa had the chance to give a quick answer and an even quicker goodbye, “but we do have a lot of pretty places to take a midnight stroll. Trees are lovely here, especially now in the autumn.” He paused, a contemplative look over his face, “Come to think of it, I do know quite a lot of dealers around here that can hook you up, if you’re up for it.”

“Grant!”

Lottie chuckled, amusement painted in neon on her face. Seeing some of that flame inside her come to light filled Zarifa with a sense of joy, that she pushed down with a strength bodybuilders would be jealous of.

“Oh, I like him,” Lottie declared to Zarifs, jabbing a finger in Grant’s general direction. Her green eyes- which Zarifa had to stop looking at, traced down from Zarifa’s own eyes before landing on her neck. Lottie’s posture, previously energetic and bouncy, froze. “You kept the necklace,” she whispered, though the sound felt louder than all the explosions of the universe.

Zarifa’s hand was instantaneously on the golden butterfly hanging around her neck, shielding it from the world. The metal felt cool against her skin, even if she could feel her racing heart where her hand rested. “Felt it was a shame to let it go to waste,” Zarifa murmured, technically true, “so I just kept it.” She shifted in the silence for a while, doing her best to ignore Lottie’s eyes glued to the necklace, before clearing her throat and putting on her best ‘professional’ tone; “Was there anything else you needed?”

Lottie shook her head, leaning back from the counter and adjusting her leather jacket. “No, I’ll be back soon,” she said, before speeding towards the door. She knocked into the vases, making them wobble like jelly, before pushing the door open like she was assaulting it, and leaving nothing but the sound of a bell and the distant thrum of a motorbike.

“Lottie, huh,” Grant said, his tone dazed as though he was lost in a daydream, “she was certainly interesting. I’m a fan. Think we’ll see her around more?”

“Hopefully not,” Zarifa said, running fingers over the butterfly, “hopefully not.”

#original writing #book excerpt #bookblr #writeblr #writing wip #The Lunewell Saga - Natura #the lunewell saga #natura

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