#been tired to make any proper artworks as off late

[mrlilrox]

Hey i haven’t really managed to get myself to draw or post as of late on this account,

I’ll be taking in doodle requests! ( maximum of 5 )

It can be anything as long as it’s simple 👍

[twelfth-harbinger]

A/n: Greetings! Request away! Here’s a sample of my writing! Just a few cute head cannons I’ve been dreaming up! — I plan do Liyue next! Enjoy ^^!

Nightly Routines — Monstadt

Warnings: None! All Sfw!

Mentions: Bed time routines and nightly activities!

Lisa

She likes to read before before bed, I suppose this is not much of a surprise but alas...

How could she not allow herself to be lost in the sweet confines of a book in the late night hour?

If she is not reading — the Purple Rose is experimenting with an array of different ingredients.

Crafting potions... she so eagerly wants others to try.

“Come now, these are just harmless concoctions. Nothing dangerous cutie. Nothing that a Calla Lilly won’t heal.”

Sometimes she’ll read Klee a book before her bedtime.

Reading with company like Klee is always a treat.

Lisa likes to “save energy”, with all the book keeping work she has to do during the day.

Hunting down those who have overdue books.. at night is so taxing.

She’s usually in bed early to be ready for the next day to come.

Sometimes she’ll have long talks with Jean about miscellaneous things that happen throughout their day.

It’s very relaxing and Lisa gives great advice.

Klee comes up a lot she just worries about those bombs..

Jean

She’s doesn’t really have a bed time routine.

She falls asleep at her desk instead of in a proper bed. It worries Lisa and Barbara.

What’s sleep? She’s always up late into the night doing paperwork “It’s exhausting just looking at the work pile” — Kaeya

Though, when Jean is able to finish up for the day without any issues, she likes to take the time to soak in a hot bath.

She stays inside for as long as she can.

It simply relaxes her muscles and relieves any tension the day might’ve given her.

Lisa joins her sometimes, seems that woman gives her peace of mind.

When she’s all tucked in at night she enjoys indulging in books akin to Lisa.

Reading tales of legendary heroes. Her favorite being the King of Khaenri’ah.

Honestly, she does not like sleeping. She has asked Lisa for a potion that keeps her awake.

But, when she finally does wish to sleep she has a hard time doing so and well...asks Lisa for aide.

Lisa reads her a bedtime story too or rather she tells her stories about the strong and admirable people she has met at Sumeru Arcademia. — This occurs during their long late night talks.

Kaeya

He wouldn’t be Kaeya if he didn’t have a glass of wine before bed.

He’s enjoys the company of Lisa from time to time they will share a glass.

Before going to bed and leaving for the night, he checks in on Klee.

He makes sure she’s alright but, that’s usually only after she has caused trouble for Jean that day.

Those pointers seem to go to waste. Pls don’t report him.

Kaeya likes to take his time before getting into bed.

He usually takes off his clothes and strips down to his bottoms. Or naked

Yes, he removes his eye patch but, only his reflection has seen what lies underneath.

Kaeya stargazes as he enjoys his nightly glass of sparkling wine.

Once he has had a few and they’ve warmed his insides, he’ll take a cool shower to regulate his body temperature.

It relaxes him more than a hot bath or shower would.

When he’s out falls asleep fairly quickly.

Diluc

He does not sleep much.

Given his nightly rounds keeping Monstadt safe from any posing threats, overseeing Monstadt’s wine industry and running the Dawn Winery...

Diluc escapes sleeps like Houdini.

Not that he wants to but he simply doesn’t have the time.

Like his voice line for relax is literally “Guess we can rest for a bit” like he didn’t have any plans on doing that before lmao poor Diluc.

He cares about the safety of Monstadt and her people.

Kaeya may be an ass at times but, he can tell that even he worries about his lack of sleep.

When he does have a moment to relax, he will play a round of chess with his butler while drinking grape juice.

He likes to drink that before bed instead of wine in difference to Kaeya.

Diluc often gazes at the collection of artwork he has around the manor.

It’s so intricately detailed, many thoughts and emotions were sewn into each of the piece by its maker. He notices it all.

He does all these things because he’s so used to being up for long periods of time that when it is finally time to rest his head. He’s up doing these idle things.

Diluc lies in bed for a long while before drifting off into a restless sleep, before he even realizes it — sometimes the sun rises and he needs to work yet again.

Klee

She’s never truly tired when her bedtime rolls around.

Always doing bomb experiments inside of her “room”

The guard that stands outside her door is genuinely scared they’ll get blown up...again.

Jean has to confiscate everything so she goes to bed on time.

Lisa will read to her for a while.

Her voice is so sweet and soothing it’ll easily put her to bed.

Klee keeps Dodoco close by when she’s tucked in.

She never sleeps without it, she also sleeps with a bomb right next to her.

It may not be a good idea to surprise her in the middle of the night.

For everyone’s safety lmao.

After a long day of treasure hunting with Bennett or being saved from a disaster by Razor. Klee will fall asleep quite easily.

Amber

She has a lot of energy even before bed.

So, to tire herself out she will go for a nightly run or jog in and around the city of Monstadt.

She will also glide around from time to time up by the church.

Feeling the night wind in her hair is a nice stress reliever.

She may not sleep right away, she wanders around the Knights HQ and often sees Lisa up reading if she isn’t sleeping.

She may also check in on Klee, she doesn’t really like her being inside that confinement cell.

If she isn’t doing that, she may go on a nightly hunt before bed too.

Just so she can cook up a good breakfast in the morning.

All that energy needs to go somewhere.

She’ll eat moon pie before bed, she knows it’s not good to eat and then go directly to sleep but... it just tastes so good!

Barbara

Outside her room everyone can hear her humming to herself.

The acoustics in the cathedral are top notch she sings there are night when it’s empty.

Bennett often walks in covered head to toe in scraps and bruises.

Nearly scares her half to death. She heals him of course.

In her pjs’s Barbara sits in front of her vanity, singing to herself as she brushes her hair.

She has a melody to go along as she counts each brush stroke.

She checks in on Jean to make sure she’s not working herself to death.

Some nights she helps Jean to a proper bed.

If she isn’t sleeping during the late night hour she may be performing at the Angel’s Share.

Diluc frowned the entire time.

Her performances tucker her out and she sleeps as soon as she sees her bed!

She’ll take a bath first though and sing there too. Barbara will never stop singing!

Fischl

When she’s alone out adventuring on a quest Fischl can relax a bit more.

She sits under the illuminated night sky with Oz, gazing up at the stars.

Dreaming of far off worlds with the company of Oz by her side.

She can break character in front of him.

She lets her hair out and takes off the eye patch when she’s not in front of people.

She brushes her fingers through her hair a few times to allow it to fall freely. Only to pick up one of her favorite novels.

Always manages to read herself to sleep until or until the sun rises.

She reads a lot of fantasy novels and of course makes sure to return them on time.

Fischl spends her time in the adventures guild usually until the late night hour.

It’s a bit hard to understand her word choice but everyone there tries to be nice about it.

It’s a good thing Oz is there to translate.

Fischl is one for walks through the city of Monstadt at night, well that’s when she usually returns from her adventures outside the city.

She’s tired then and will quickly fall fast asleep, she’s more of a day time bather than a night.

Diona

She spends her nights bartending.

If she’s not busy making delicious drinks...

She’s out in the wild searching for ingredients to make a concoction with a horrid taste.

All in efforts to bring down the wine industry in Monstadt.

She has her reasons but, she dares not to speak of them in front of anyone and especially with Diluc around. — Seems he has eyes and ears everywhere?

Diona is an excellent bartender in fact, she’s so good at her job that the people who frequent there are there for her!

Her nights consist of entertaining the guest at the Cats Tails whilst also making drinks.

It’s fairly tiresome but when the night is over she goes home.

Not to sleep no, but to try and come up with a drink that will utterly topple the wind industry.

If she comes to a standstill, Diona will go out and ask around about the things people would most hate to drink.

When she does sleep, she will crawl into the comforts of her own bed. Doing nothing but stretching to get comfortable as she moves to rest.

Which seems to occur when the sun begins to rise. She sleeps throughout the day so that she can focus on her job at night. — that is unless she’s asking around to feed into her plans. One may see her during the day!

Razor

Will always watch the moon and star lit skies before he falls asleep.

He does this while keeping watch.

He checks on his lupical throughout the night too.

Just to make sure they’re all sleeping easy and peacefully.

Will sit and eat meat casually letting his feet dangle by the cliff side.

He honestly doesn’t do much before falling asleep.

Razor think about a plethora of things though before it tires him out.

How he’s not a real wolf mainly — it saddens him.

In any case he enjoy going to bed with a full stomach.

If he’s feeling restless, he will go for a run as well.

All that excess energy disappears once it’s concluded.

After that he’s too tired to think about anything else other than sleep.

He smells like a wolf and won’t bathe too often — doesn’t see it as a necessity to being a wolf.

If he’s out at night and sees Lisa she will make sure he’s clean even if she has to shock him.

Bennett

He sleeps like a baby most times but as luck would have it...sometimes he doesn’t.

It’s mainly when he’s out adventuring.

When he finally drifts off into sleep — not that he does much to prepare for sleep to begin with other than getting comfortable.

Bennett keeps his fire going to stay warm.

It unfortunately attracts hilichurls.

He stays up late trying to defend himself and his treasure from them.

He lost everything once lmao.

When he isn’t out and about, he’s in the guild.

Staying up late taking care of his Dads.

Always makes sure they’re all alright before he even thinks about sleeping.

Bennett, after assuring their happiness and comfort would then rest.

He thinks about death but not in a fearful way albeit, it does cross his mind often at night but he tries not to dwell.

Sometimes his nights are spent being mended by Barbara — he falls asleep at the cathedral too if he’s too tired to move.

It all depends where his adventures have him end up!

Noelle

She cleans before bed, any surroundings that may be out of place Noelle will scrub, sweep and dust until it shines.

She’s often doing errands during the day or helping out with the Knights at HQ.

When night falls she’s fairly tired.

Albeit she does not show it, the hard work she does is quite the energy drain.

She barely lets herself rest often doing the “less dangerous” jobs assigned to her by Jean or Kaeya. All in efforts to keep her safe.

When night falls and she has done everything she could do for that day, Noelle will practice with her claymore crafted by Wagner.

She stays up late trying to refine her skills until she can’t swing anymore.

She may have super human strength but after a few rounds of practice she will get tired.

She likes to soak in a hot bath with geo salts. It’s relaxing and rejuvenating.

The healing properties aide in strengthening her body when she’s exerted herself from a longs day work.

Sucrose

Research.

It takes up her days and her nights.

Lisa is always so insightful to almost everything that she does.

It is very helpful but Sucrose seems to never know why.

She loves alchemy and will often fall asleep at her work station. With experiments bubbling over and materials by her head.

Albedo wakes her only to tell her to go rest somewhere properly — wait for a new day to begin again.

Sucrose uses this time to bathe as well but she won’t soak in a bath for very long she prefers hot showers they’re brisk and warm her up just the same.

She will read alchemy books before moving to rest for the night and sometimes she’ll fall asleep with them in her lap.

Scribbling down notes along the way, she often wakes up in the morning with books and paper scattered throughout her bed.

Mona

She is a night owl, very rarely will someone see her during the day unless she’s shopping for something to eat at Sara’s.

But even then she’ll go out and do that at night if it’s not too late.

She scrys, usually somewhere out in about in one of the forests of Monstadt.

Honestly it’s hard to fall asleep on an empty stomach so she reads the stars like a book until she’s too tired to do so anymore. In hopes of possibly making a breakthrough of some sort.

Astrology being the only thing that can put her to sleep when she’s feeling restless.

She will indulge herself in a few experiments as well, getting “important work” done so that she can further her magical prowess.

Mona can’t discern the origins of a few things in Monstadt — that often keeps her up as night.

She will read star maps while she’s soaking in a warm bath at night before bed.

They float above the water and she turns the wheel in the air with as she proceeds with divination.

Being surrounded by water in a warm bath and their reflective surfaces always helps her see clearly.

Venti

He does not sleep at a set time.

Be it night or day...

It is always random with him.

Not to say he does not get tired but..

Venti does things on his own time.

He stays up drinking through all hours of the night.

He will sit atop his statue within the heart of Monstadt.

Always with an expression on his face that reads that of melancholy and longing.

It is there he falls asleep and it’s not for very long.

He doesn’t do anything to prepare for sleep it simply has to catch him in the wind.

Venti will sing, of tales new and old.

He may even go to the cathedral to see Barbara — he has watched her preform at Angels Share.

He often tries to bum a drink off Diona but never gets very far.

If he’s not in the city he’s out by the large tree you can always find him under.

Writing poetry, songs and playing the lyre.

He will fall asleep doing these things.

It’s there he will sleep the longest and where the sunrise wakes him for the new day.

[pair-annoyed]

Anime I Watched This Fall

My first semester of college is officially over and the December holidays are upon us! I hoped to make one of these posts sooner, but I have been incredibly busy with schoolwork. Now that things have slowed down, let’s take sometime to reflect on things I’ve watched. 

These anime are listed in chronological order and encompass everything I’ve watched from 9/1/2020 - 12/15/2020

Like always, they will be rated on a 1-10 scale; 1 meaning complete garbage, 10 meaning masterpiece. I will offer my thoughts on what I did/didn’t like about each show!

1. The God of High School - 6/10 

Despite the stellar animation from MAPPA and my high expectations, I was really disappointed by how this series was treated. Most of the story’s crucial elements were handled poorly. I finished this series feeling more confused about the plot than when I first began. The power system is really cool, but poorly explained. More time should have been spent on exposition and world building for this series, instead the fights were given the most screen time. 

2.  Doukyuusei - 7/10 

I really liked the style of Doukyuusei. Granted, this was another movie I chose to watch primarily because of the hype surrounding it. The dynamic between Kusakabe and Sajou is an interesting one, and I also enjoy how the movies different acts were separated by the seasons. However, there's nothing that really sets Doukyuusei apart from other romance movies, its a little generic. Still, I enjoyed it nonetheless. 

3.  Re:Zero kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu 2nd Season - 8/10 

My opinions on Re:Zero’s second season are biased. This was, by far, the sequel I was most hyped for during the summer/fall anime season. I was so happy to see the story’s continuation and I’m looking forward to the season’s second part coming sometime in January. Re:Zero is one of my all time favorite series because of the way it handles it characters and power dynamics. I also really enjoy the show’s psychological aspects. If you haven’t already, give Re:Zero a try! 

4. Saint☆Oniisan (Movie + OVA) - 8/10

This was a wonderful comedy. I wasn’t sure how the subject of Jesus and Buddha living together would be tackled, but it was handled wonderfully. I was laughing for pretty much the entire movie. I love the art style and little references to both Buddhism and Christianity, plus the incorporation of Japanese culture. Saint Oniisan is a bright comedy, with two eccentric main characters. If you like a show that doesn’t take itself too seriously, and need a good laugh, I can’t recommend this more.

5. Clannad: After Story - 10/10 

Never, while watching anime, did I cry as much as I did while watching Clannad: After Story. I didn’t realize how much I related to Okazaki until I saw him grow up in After Story. I was left sobbing, especially after episode 18. I still, to this day, cannot listen to the Dango song without tearing up. The original Clannad is nothing special, but the continuation of its story its something heartfelt, emotional, and down-to-earth. I love Kyoto Animation with all my heart, and Clannad made me appreciate everything the studio has done just a little bit more. Thank you Clannad, for reminding me about the kind of person I strive to be. 

6. Nakitai Watashi wa Neko wo Kaburu - 5.5/10

The art in A Whisker Away was beautiful. The story itself, however, is nothing too enjoyable. I found it difficult to like our protagonist or her love interest. Nothing about this movie is inherently memorable. The emotional climax came far too early which made the second half of the film seem long and drawn out.  All in all, the movie has a wonderful concept, I just believe it could have been so much more emotional than it was. When I watch a move, I like to empathize with the characters. It’s difficult to do when the characters aren’t given the proper exposition to be empathized with. 

7.  Shikioriori - 6/10

This is less of a movie and more of a collection of short stories. Flavors of Youth is something you shouldn’t watch on an empty stomach, all of the food looks incredible. The same cannot beside for the rest of this feature. The stories themselves seems heavily clichéd. Much like A Whisker Away, the initial premise is intriguing, but the execution results in something that comes across as trying too hard and carries no emotional weight with the viewer. If you plan on watching, pay more attention to the artwork and animation than the actual plot. You won’t be missing anything. 

8. Vinland Saga - 7/10

Vinland Saga helped me get out of the rut that Clannad: After Story. Not only does this show have a great story, its action packed with lots of interesting fights. I especially enjoyed all the Nordic history embedded within the show. Its really unlike any of the other historical anime I’ve watched. I will say, it’s gory. But, compared to all the other things I watched this time around, I finished this series the quickest. Its good, its graphic, its fast paced! 

9.  Mononoke Hime - 7/10

It’s ironic considering how much anime I’ve watched that I have yet to watch all of the most classic Studio Ghibli films. Princess Mononoke is grittier than most other Ghibli films I’ve seen, but it’s message is positive and its characters are wonderful. I can’t really speak ill towards classics like these. I guess maybe my one complaint is that this movie could’ve been a faster pace. Other than that... I really enjoyed everything Princess Mononoke offered! I understand why it’s so popular.  

10. Howl no Ugoku Shiro - 8.5/10 

Can you believe it took me this long to finally watch Howl’s Moving Castle? Me neither!! This movie is so endearingly beautiful. I loved every second of it, from the characters to the soundtrack. So many iconic things come from just this one movie. I would like to take this time to thank my best friend for reminding me that Studio Ghibli films are wonderful! Thank you for watching this with me, I loved it! All in all, I regret not watching this sooner! 

11. Toradora! - 6.5/10 

Toradora took me a while to finish, just because I lost interest about halfway through. But, I powered through it, and ended up really enjoying the show! I’m not the biggest fan of the ending, but that’s just a personal preference. Somehow, this show also made me cry? I’m not entirely sure why because Toradora! is probably the thing farthest from sad. Apart from the show’s dull slice of life moments, it was super cute! A much needed light-hearted romance. 

12. New Initial D Movie: Legend 1 - 5/10 

Full disclosure, this is the only thing related to Initial D that I’ve ever watched. My band and I watched this expecting to hear some of that iconic Initial D music, itself all we got was a mildly confusing story about different types of cars. It was cliché and frankly a little boring. Although, I am still considering watching the original Initial D just so I can hear the music in the way it was original intended. I’ve got no other opinions on this movie. It’s best not to watch these movies without the context from the rest of the franchise.  

13.  Uchuu Patrol Luluco - 7.5/10

I didn’t really understand why people enjoy studio Trigger so much until I watched Space Patrol Luluco. I loved all the fun references to other studio Trigger works. I loved the humor, and I loved all the bright colors. The animation was extremely high energy, and the art style fits the show’s premise. Each episode was only 12 minutes long so it was a super quick binge. If you’re looking for something quick, light-hearted and comical, this is the perfect show to watch.

14. Orange - 7/10 

I owe a big thanks to a tumblr mutual for recommending this show to me! This holds the honor of making me cry by episode 3! I honestly did not expect the subject matter of this show to be as dark as it was. Usually when I see the genre ‘shoujo’ I do not associate it with a love story like that of Orange. The heavy subject matter made it a little too close to home for me, but I still really enjoyed this series. It reminds me off all the good times I had with my friends in high school, and of all the regrets I carry with myself to this day. 

15. 3-gatsu no Lion - 7.5/10 

March Comes in Like a Lion is another show that was a bit of a slow burn for me. Each episode left me feeling emotionally drained, so I had to take a lot of breaks while I was working on watching this series. Shaft, the studio behind this anime, holds a special place in my heart because I loved their work on the Monogatari Series. March Comes in Like a Lion is a little different. It’s driving force it is characters, and it was cathartic to watch our main character transform through the entire duration of the first season. I know the show’s second season is much better, so I’ll be starting that soon! 

16. Yojouhan Shinwa Taikei - 8/10 

I loved how artsy and smart The Tatami Galaxy is, but honestly I couldn’t watch too much at once cause it would hurt my head. I also couldn’t watch this show while I was tired because the speaking rate is much faster than typical anime. The Tatami Galaxy is so unique for its medium. I loved the different time loops and the crazy animation. The characters were fascinating. The dialogue, although very fast, it also fantastic. There’s an element of humor to this unique story telling, and I enjoyed ever minute of it! 

Currently Watching:

Hunter x Hunter - 6.5/10 (As of Episode 30)

I pride myself in having watched a lot of shounen anime, but I was reluctant to start Hunter x Hunter for years because I thought I would find it boring. I was oh so very wrong. Considering great shows like Naruto and Fairy Tail that fall under the same category, I expected Hunter x Hunter to be subpar in comparison. It gets a low score for two reasons. One, the power system was introduced a little too late and now I’m wondering if all the fights post episode 30 will involved nen in some way, shape, or form. Two, its still on hiatus. 

Two Cursed Additions For This List

Please to do not let these be representative of my anime taste. 

1.  Yarichin☆B*tch-bu - 4/10

I am a CLOWN for not knowing this was 18+. The only reason I watched this was to see why everyone was talking about the pink-haired boy with the glasses and tongue piecing. I know why now, and I regret it. This was a massive mistake on my part. But hey, at the least the art and ending song kinda slap? 

2. Euphoria (Dropped After 1 Episode) - 2/10

If you know what I’m talking about when I say Euphoria, I am so sorry. And no, I am not talking about the HBO series. Seriously, don’t google this. Don’t watch this. Don’t interact with anything related to this. You’re probably wondering, “Then why did you watch it?” I did not watch this willingly. You see, I have a very bad habit of starting anime and then taking months to finish them. I made an ultimatum with a friend, lost, and then was forced to watch this a punishment. Not a fun experience. I’m very glad there are no GIFs of this on tumblr...

[sooibian]

Twist of Fate

image credits: @/exoxoxoid (twitter)

Pairing: Criminal Psychologist Kyungsoo x Crime Reporter OC (Miss Jung) ft. Minseok, Jongin

Description: Much against your wishes, you are back in your hometown to write about the murders of two young women - your only ticket out is the criminal psychologist who has been assisting Superintendent Kim Minseok with offender profiling.

Inspired by: Sharp Objects, The Fall and this moodboard by @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt​ 

Tags/Warnings: Serial killer AU - angst, grief, loss, murders, descriptions of anxiety, reactive and attentive immobility, asphyxiation, indicative of humiliation, explicit and graphic situations. Please do not read onward if any of this triggers or upsets you!!!!

Word count: +3.7k

A/N: ...i need to stop watching crime dramas. 

@leewalberg​ @his-mochi-cheeks​ @changshapatrol​ 

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

When you left Cheongsong, you’d left for good. Or so you’d thought.

Ten years later what brought you back was not your family, for you had none left, but the murders of two young women that had left the quaint little town, surrounded by hills artistically contoured by apple orchards, shaken and distraught.

Everyone knew each other in Cheongsong which should have made Superintendent Kim Minseok’s job easier, but he was caught in an ugly snare of emotions which seemed to have clouded his critical thinking faculties. These were people he knew closely, people he’d grown up with. For him, pointing fingers at any of them meant carving permanent cracks in relationships that were stronger than most familial ties.

“Off the record, then”, you shoved your scratchpad back into your purse, turned off the recorder with a click and looked at Minseok square in the eyes, only to find the amiable, portly, catlike footballer you went to school with hidden in their farthest, darkest depths - reduced to a mere whimsy. The memories of the man who sat before you, now seemed abysmally distorted by the colossal burden of the unknown.

“It never is.” He chuckled darkly, took a measured sip of his bourbon and rolled it around his tongue before swallowing. “Never thought I’d see you here again.”

“That makes two of us. Write about killings in your hometown...it makes an impact because it’s personal, my boss says. We’re to...exploit the fact that nobody substantial is covering this.” You recited, eyes trained on the sliver of grime on the coaster.

Minseok clicked his tongue in disapproval and enquired, “Where have you been staying?” 

“A guest house by the Country Club.”

“So, not the Mansion”, he remarked callously.

Wounds that had barely healed came undone at the mention of your family home. Your throat tightened and you felt as if you had been shanked with a broken bottle in the stomach. The ill fated house reeked of misfortune, grief and loss. Its inhabitants had fallen one by one like lined up dominoes. This curse had forced you out to start a new life in Seoul.

“It’s still quite well kept, you know.” Minseok stated matter-of-factly.

Taking a deep swig of your bourbon, you explained earnestly as the burn of the liquid blazed down your throat, “Minseok, I want nothing more than to get out of here. So, please, give me something. A nugget.” 

“I don’t want to be quoted on this. Or misquoted. This is all new to me as well. Two bodies in three months? Can you imagine?” Overcome with emotion, he ran a hand through his hair and squeezed his eyes shut.

You put a comforting hand on his and offered in a voice laced with empathy, “Listen, from where I stand, all you need is a new line of inquiry and linking these two murders would give you one. I’ve seen the pictures.” 

You swiped through images of two dark haired women on your phone - Park Soojin and Seo Jinri. Both of them were in their late twenties. They lay in their own beds as if soundly asleep, modesty protected only by sheer white blankets, crimson tinted lips parted ever so slightly, freshly painted nails shining in dim lighting. And roses. There were a couple of red roses placed by their side as if in condolence. The blood curdling strangulation marks around their necks made them look like dreadfully divine paintings. 

“They could be sisters”, you observed with moist eyes, voice hushed to a whisper.

Contemplating on the images with pursed lips, Minseok responded with a tight nod and waved a 50,000 bill in the waitress’ general direction.

“Where’d you find these?” He asked in a threateningly calm voice, averting his eyes from your apparently disagreeable gaze.

“You know that’s confidential”, you replied, half-shrugging, nonchalant.

“I’ll drop you home”, he muttered, and shoved his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. 

With a defeated sigh you grabbed your purse and phone and proceeded to follow Minseok out of the only bar in Cheongsong, “No, it’s fine. I could use a walk.”

Suddenly, he turned around, searched your eyes for a fleeting second before admitting begrudgingly, “Kim Jongin. He’s the prime suspect in the first case. The murder of Park Soojin.”  

Your legs froze. “What?! Why?”

You knew Kim Jongin, like you knew everyone else in this town. His family owned one of the biggest apple orchards in Cheongsong but Kim Jongin never manifested that in his behaviour. He was known to be friendly, kind, sensitive. Almost too sensitive some would say.

“That’s it. That’s your nugget. Here.” He handed you a business card bearing the name ‘Dr. Doh Kyungsoo’. “He’s been informally assisting with offender profiling. He’ll talk to you. Seems like he’ll talk to anyone, really. Now get in the car, it’s freezing out here.” 

.

.

.

“Dr. Doh, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

Dr. Doh Kyungsoo’s home office was a detached unit with a separate entrance, distanced from his main residence. It was exactly the way you’d imagined a psychologist’s office to be - light coloured walls, comfortable chairs, soft pillows, insipid artwork. Neat and clean, fostering a sense of comfort for visitors. 

The Doh family had moved into Cheongsong shortly after you’d left for Seoul. Coming from old money in search of some peace and quiet, they invested in agricultural distribution, Cheongyang Pepper farms and assumed one of the more significant estates to live in while their only son, Doh Kyungsoo, was sent abroad to pursue higher education.   

“Please, call me Kyungsoo.” He took your hand in his, gave it a good, firm shake and gestured you to take the chair opposite his.

“I think ‘Dr. Doh’ should be fine”, you stated plainly and he acknowledged with a curt nod.

“What brings you here?” Asked Kyungsoo, holding your gaze, hands folded in his lap as he leaned back into his chair with a soft sigh. 

Grimacing, you waved your recorder at him, “They say you’re my ticket out of this godforsaken place.”

Minseok had helped you set up the meeting so you thought it proper to waive cumbersome introductions and niceties and Kyungsoo seemed very much in sync with your line of thought. 

He smiled, “I’m merely a bystander, Miss Jung, with slightly more informed opinions, maybe.”

“Informed opinions are what I’m here for, Dr. Doh.” You smiled back, “Superintendent Kim Minseok doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

“He’s a man shackled by bureaucracy and I’m a constant reminder of his team’s staggering incompetence, If I were him, I wouldn’t like me very much either.”

“Do you think there’s a link between the two murders?” 

He nods. “I’m fairly certain there is.” 

“But the police won’t look into it? Why is that?”

“Nobody likes a serial, Miss Jung. Besides, there’s no way the team could cope with the increased workload of linked inquiries. There are over a hundred statements, documents, officers’ reports waiting to be read and actioned. And the case of Park Soojin is a peculiar one.”

“Kim Jongin’s girlfriend? How so?”

“She was the ex-wife of a member of the parliament. This case does absolutely no favours to his image so he needs it solved immediately.” 

The word solved was treated to air quotes.

“So, they’ve ruled him out as a suspect?”

“His alibi checks out. They suspect Kim Jongin.”

“Why? Just because Kim Jongin fled immediately after her body was found? How did the police react to that?”

“Because Jongin fled, his brother was asked to provide DNA which turned out to be a familial match to the DNA gathered at the crime scene. But that does not necessarily mean it’s the killer’s DNA. Miss Park was in a relationship with him. There’s no surprise his semen was found in her esophagus.”

“Do you rule him out as a suspect then?”

“I prefer to reserve my comment.”

“Why do you think he fled?”

“Grief drives us to do irrational things, Miss Jung. Maybe he just needed a breather from everything that was going on here. Can’t say for sure.”

“You’re certain the perpetrator is male?”

“Yes, I am. The perpetrator is male and an athletic one at that. Probably in his late twenties or early thirties. While the strangulation marks may be different, the pathologists reports suggest petechial haemorrhage in both cases which means he strangled and released and then strangled again, over and over. He’s either a sadist, or his hand lacks strength. You try it, grab my wrist.”

He extended his arm towards you and you politely declined. So he wrapped his right hand over his left wrist and held firmly for a few moments. 

“Forty seconds. It’s amazing how quickly the hand tires!” He exclaimed as if awestruck. It was the maximum emotion the inscrutable Dr. Doh had displayed during the course of this interview.

“Victims of strangulation are known to make a mess of themselves. They defecate and / or urinate..”

“That is correct. The bodies were both found posed and clean. Which means he spent hours after, washing them and cleaning the sheets, even. There could be a religious angle to this. Washing away their sins...maybe his own, considering he probably gets into the bath with them.”

He pushed a cup of long gone cold tea towards you, but you shook your head. As a crime reporter, you thought you’d seen it all but the possibility of this being the work of a serial killer was a first for you. Also the fact that it was happening in the place you grew up in was starting to gnaw at you a little more aggressively than you’d liked. 

“I’m not going to lie, Dr. Doh, this gives me pause for concern. Do you think there is a sexual angle to these killings? As far as I know, the victims have shown no signs of any such abuse.”

Kyungsoo sipped on his tea and worried at his lower lip briefly before responding. “I believe he’s the kind to take pictures, momentos from the scene. They sustain him between killings.”

“And the roses? There were..”

“Three next to Park Soojin’s corpse and two next to Seo Jinri’s.”

“Does it indicate -”

“- a countdown? Perhaps.” He studied your face intently and offered you tea again. This time you complied and then proceeded with the interview.

“There was no sign of forced entry in either cases. The police think the perpetrator was known to the victims.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You see, Miss Jung, the problem is that these cases were treated as self solvers from the get go and that’s where it all went wrong.”

His smile at the end of that sentence was one of finality, somehow indicative that you’d overstayed your welcome. To be able to milk him for all he was worth, you were going to let him loose for the time being.

Clicking your recorder off, you tilted your head to the side, smiled politely, “Well, thank you for your time, Dr. Doh.”

“It’s been a pleasure.” 

While he was walking you to the front door, you couldn’t help but ask, “Dr. Doh, if I may, were the victims known to each other? Were they friends? Acquaintances?”

“That’s for the police to investigate. They were both in their late twenties, highly qualified -  one was a solicitor the other a botanist, both tan with double eyelids, a little over 5 feet”, He took a step closer to you, instinctively you took an uncomfortable step back but found yourself trapped between him and the front door. His burgundy turtleneck smelt like warm, sweet gingerbread mixed with the contrastive redolence of something woody. He put his hand on the clip that held your hair in a bun, an elusive smile dancing on his lips as he allowed your hair to freely ripple down to your waist. “...and they both had dark, waist length hair”, he whispered into your ear, sending a frisson of fear down your spine.

You looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights as he slowly retracted. Eyes locked with yours and face contorted in a fierce frown, he concluded grimly, “You fit his profile.”

.

.

.

Unable to sleep well that night, you went for an early morning run the next day and took a detour to Minseok’s residence. After discussing your findings with him, he offered you a close protection officer who’d moonlight to provide you security just until they’d made an arrest. Which meant you’d have one uniformed officer standing guard outside your guest house all day. You knew that they wouldn’t have done this for you if your family name wasn’t Jung.

“Kim Jongin’s back in town.” Relief seemed to have smoothened the lines on Minseok’s forehead and there was a boost of confidence in his voice when he broke the news to you.

“Are you planning to take him in?” you asked, sipping on coffee in Minseok’s kitchen while he made you some eggs.

He looked victorious and his brows shot up to his hairline as he explained animatedly, “We have enough evidence to put him on trial. I’ll get the warrant in two days.” 

“Hand to your heart, do you think he did it?”

“Yah, I’d never be able to make an arrest like that. If you promise not to quote me, I will say that -” 

He peered at you questioningly and you eased him with a reassuring nod, “Go on.”

“This looks like the work of an outsider.”

.

.

.

Later that evening, you found Jongin seated alone at a table in the bar. Beaten, as if overcome with exhaustion he was crouched over a glass of scotch, a silent tear sliding down his cheek. You sat next to him and ordered him another drink.

“I killed her.” He stated simply, eyes trained on the empty glass in front of him. To see a man whose taste buds didn’t even agree with coffee back in the day downing hard liquor effortlessly, broke your heart.

“What?” you enquired, sparing no effort to lay the edge off of your voice.

“That evening, we’d had a huge argument. She- she’d been wanting to move out of here for the longest time and I never agreed. It was as if she knew!” Burying his face in his hands, he broke into full blown sobs. It was a while before he composed himself and spoke again, “Here, you have your story. Following a trivial spat, a small town chaebol kills his girlfriend.”

Shaking your head furiously in disagreement, you held him tightly by his shoulders, “This is your chance, Jongin. Speak your truth. Tell them that you didn’t do it. They’ll need to hear it from you!”

Jongin looked you in the eyes, his own brimming with tears, “I was twelve when my puppy died and I couldn’t seem to get over it. My mother gave me this book which said the only way men can get over grief is by showing indifference, I tried that with Soojin.”

Brows furrowed, you asked, “And?”

“It worked for an hour.” He chuckled darkly, “I loved her and I always will. At this point I just don’t care. I should’ve listened to her. Maybe I even deserve this. I see the way people look at me, I- I feel written off, ostracized. A goddamn parliamentarian wants me in. My truth won’t survive their might.” 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you started to talk him out of potential suicide, “Jongin -” 

But he raised his forefinger to silence you. Trembling, he asked, “I just find myself wondering, can you die from a broken heart?”

.

.

.

Kim Jongin had turned himself in.

Acquiescent to the slow wheels of justice, moderately satisfied with the first draft of your article, and concerned about your safety, your boss agreed to call you back to the Seoul office, at least until there were further developments in the case.

During the course of your stay in Cheongsong, you drove past the little street leading up to the Mansion several times but not once did you glance in its direction. Before your flight the next morning, you decided to pay the house a little visit to say a final goodbye. The first snow had laid a fleecy white blanket on the ceramic roof that gleamed from the light of the astral light of the night sky. You were flooded with memories of chasing butterflies in spring, climbing the only mango tree in town which still stood proud in your backyard, the stories of monsters and ghosts your parents would read to you in the blanket forts you’d build together… blissfully unaware that in a not so far future this was all your life would entail - monsters and ghosts.

The great oakwood front door turned on its hinges and a familiar aroma of caramel apple hotteok invited you in. They say every house has a peculiar smell and yours smelt of caramel apple hotteok, even after all this time. Your lips curled upward at the strangeness of your sentiments. The demons you tried so hard to escape all your life seemed like bad dreams and what was left of this place within you was just the good. The pure, unadulterated joy that was once your childhood. 

You proceeded to the kitchen to fetch yourself a cup of hot water, and that’s when you heard a knock on the front door. You ignored it at first thinking it was just the wind but the knock came again. Louder, this time. You left the kitchen to answer the door.

“Dr. Doh!” you exclaimed, utterly surprised to see him here at this hour.

“Miss Jung”, he smiled sheepishly, “I went by the guest house but the guard said you were at the Mansion. I just wanted to say goodbye, I’m leaving for Gyeonggi in the a.m.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Uh - I’m sorry, please, come in.” 

He followed you to the kitchen and said apologetically, “I hope I’m not imposing.”

“No, not at all! Never quite realised just how massive this house actually is - It was starting to eat me up. Gyeonggi, you say?”

“Oh, it’s a cursed life as an independent consultant, Miss Jung. I’m mostly living out of a suitcase..”

“I wish I could say differently. So your presence here was requested by Minseok’s team?” You asked as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

“No, I arrived just about a month before the first murder. My parents passed in a car crash three years ago. So I decided to sell the estate and the pepper farms.” He explained, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

“Would you like some tea? I brought some tea bags with me. I don’t know which tea it is, though.” You offered, mindlessly pouring hot water into two cups. 

“Sure” , he nodded.

“So did you?”

“What?”

“Manage to sell everything? And I’m sorry - uh about your parents.” 

You didn’t feel sorry. What you felt was an inexplicable weight in your chest rendering you breathless. Your heart started pounding erratically and your mind clouded over with a sense of impending doom as you went about the mundane task of making tea. 

“You seem a little out of it, Miss Jung. Is something bothering you?” He got off his chair and guided you to yours as your legs threatened to give away.

You sipped on some warm tea to steady yourself and said to Kyungsoo, “Oh, no it’s … It’s just this house. Maybe you were right, Dr. Doh. This isn’t a good time. I’m sorry but I might have to ask you to leave.”

Kyungsoo didn’t react. At all. He stood still, eyes fixed on your trembling frame.

“Park Soojin wasn’t his first kill”, he whispered.

“What?” you asked feebly, still trying to get a hold of yourself.

Kyungsoo sauntered over to the kitchen counter and brought you a glass of water. “Pay attention, Miss Jung. Park Soojin wasn’t his first kill. He was sloppy with the first one and it was only by a stroke of luck that he managed to get away. So he planned better with Soojin. Got even better with Jinri.”

Startled, you looked him in the eyes and he gave you a smile that raised goosebumps on your skin. 

Unperturbed Kyungsoo continued, pacing leisurely in the kitchen, a spine-chilling hint of exhilaration in his voice. “His criminal sophistication indicates that he understands criminology and knows police work. Unfortunately, Miss Jung,”, his voice dropped and you suddenly felt shackled to your seat. Squirming, but unable to make any big movement like reaching out for something that was heavy or sharp or both, “The tragedy is that he’s always believed he’s inferior to these women. But -” 

Kyungsoo levelled his face with yours and grinned with a glimmer of victory in his eyes, “for every tragedy, there is a happy ending.”

It took all you could muster to hold it together and dash for your purse to retrieve your cell phone. But you didn’t find it in there. 

“Is this what you’re looking for?” asked Kyungsoo, teasing as he pulled your phone from the inside pocket of his overcoat and handed it to you. 

You tried to turn it on to no avail. Voice as steady as could be, you said to him, “Please, please just leave!”

He took two easy steps towards you and you found yourself encased between his body and the wall. “Well then you shouldn’t have let me in! Tell me something, how could the close protection officer have given me your whereabouts if you dismissed him immediately after Jongin’s arrest? Haven’t you learnt since you were a little girl - always keep your guard up. Think before you speak. Did you think you were invincible?”

He took your hand in his and guided you back to the kitchen table. Eyes brimming tears, body trembling, and mind overcome with dread you followed him as if he were the pied piper. The familiar scent of gingerbread wafted up your nostrils making you nauseous.

As soon as you took a seat at the table, he put on his gloves, and lay a bottle of red nail polish and a red rose before you.

“Just think about how you can be with them again, Miss Jung. And don’t worry...I’ll be gentle.”

***

A/N: YES! you’re absolutely right! i just wanted to write turtleneck murderer Soo -_-

[whispering-raine]

Heartbreak - A Sanders Sides oneshot

((TWS: HEART BREAK (yes that means that Patton is affected), PANIC ATTACK, BEING SICK, BLOOD, FEVER, PUKE, MENTIONS OF AN ARGUMENT, DESCRIPTIVE GORE/WOUNDS, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, BLOODY ARTWORK AT THE END

3rd person POV:

Roman awoke, his eyes fluttering open as he examined his surroundings. He had fallen asleep in Pattons room the night before, so this was different from the normal scenery that covered the room he would usually wake up in. Family photos of the sides displayed in picture frames, kids toys lying everywhere but his desk, which was covered in random pieces of paper and probably a few recipes for cookies and other treats. Pattons room had become Romans safe space, and vise versa.

"Good morning, my dear~" Roman whispered, giving Patton a small kiss on his forehead. Patton gave a happy hum in his sleep, a soft smile following.

But something was off. His forehead was just a bit warmer than usual. His cheeks were tinted just a bit more pink than he was used to seeing. Roman sent a sympathetic look over towards the sleeping boy, walking out of the room.

He walked towards the bathroom down the hall, teaching into the medicine cabinet and grabbing a thermometer. He walked back, Patton still sleeping and hugging a stuffed animal.

Sweat was beaded on his face, which still held a tired smile, disregarding the shape he was in. Roman was careful to be quiet, holding the speaker of the thermometer to muffle the noise as he swiped the metal across Pattons forehead quickly. 102.1*

He muttered a quick "Shit." before taking the thermometer back to the bathroom. He quickly washed it off with warm water, putting the cap back on and placing it in the medicine cabinet.

He rushed out to the kitchen, in which he saw Logan typing away on his phone and almost chugging his daily cup of black coffee.

"Logan." Roman addressed the logical side. Logan almost immediately noticed the uneasy look on Romans face.

"Ah, good morning Roman. Is something the matter?" Logan questioned, putting his almost empty cup to the side and turning off his phone, setting it down on the table quietly.

"Yeah, yeah something is the matter. Can individual sides get sick?" His breathing was starting to get out of pattern.

"Well, yes, I suppose so. Are you feeling unwell?" Logan said in a concerned tone, walking over to Roman and reaching up to place a hand on his forehead. Roman politely moved Logans hand away with his own.

"No, actually, Patton has a fever and I was making sure that this was normal."

"Patton?" Logan questioned curiously. Roman nodded, confirming what Logan had once been so curious about. Logan seemed to think for a second, adjusting his glasses quickly and standing up straighter, although gay.

"Well Nico and Thomas got into a bit of an argument last night, so that may be the cause of it. But I'll do some more research in a little while to do a better and more proper diagnosis." Logan said, sitting back down and taking another sip of his coffee.

"Thanks, Nerd." Roman said before leaving, going back to Pattons room. He was going to make Patton feel better no matter the cost. He walked back into his room, the door creaking the slightest. Roman sighed, a sad smile curling on his lips. He layed down next to his beloved, wrapping arms around him and giving him the softest hug he could manage.

"Mm," Patton hummed, slowly waking up.

"Hello darling.." Roman whispered, rubbing the smaller ones back lightly.

"Are you feeling alright? You have a fever.." Roman asked as he awaited patiently for a response.

Patton could only manage a small shake of his head, leaning farther into Romans touch. "I-Is...everyone else okay though..?" Patton slurred, his words muffled by Romans shirt.

"I'm pretty sure. I haven't checked on everyone, but Logan and I feel okay." Patton responded with a nod, almost falling back asleep in Romans arms.

But he was awoken by the voice again, "Would you like me to make you some tea...?" Patton thought for a moment, before giving a small nod.

"But I can make it myself. I don't want you to waste too much time on me." He insisted, tiredly rolling off of Roman to sit up. He leaned back on his palms, repressing a yawn. Roman sat up with him, putting an arm around his shoulders and rubbing his upper arm.

"You're in no condition to be doing that yourself. I can get it for you, I promise." Patton slid his hand over Romans, intertwining their fingers silently.

"I'll be fine."

"No you won't." Patton let out a chuckle, smiling up at Roman.

"Ro, I'm fine. I'll get right back into bed after I get my tea."

"Fine. Then let me see you stand on your own."

Patton grabbed his glasses off of the nightstand, slipping them on. Roman helped Patton to a standing position, holding him as if he were a kid learning how to ride a bike. Roman finally let go, although only inches apart from the swaying boy. Pattons knees immediately buckled, falling into Romans chest with barely any control of his own body.

"See? I'm fine!" Patton joked, lifting only his head from Romans chest. Roman couldn't help but smile at the smaller boy.

"And this is why I'm making your tea for you."

Patton let out a whine, burying his face back into Romans shirt. The both wrapped their arms around each other, Pattons hung down at Romans waist; and Romans wrapped around his shoulders.

"Come on, let me get you back into bed."

Patton gave in at this point, allowing Roman to pick him up and gracefully lay him back down onto the soft covers.

"I'll be right back."

Patton layed on his bed, trying to stop the world from spinning around him as he focussed on a stain on the ceiling. A few extra minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt, would it? Patton let his heavy eyelids shut as he curled into a ball, trying to get comfortable. He was almost immediately woken up by Roman walking in, holding a glass of tea. The glass had a cat paw pattern on it. It was always Pattons favorite.

"Hello my darling~" Romans voice rang throughout the room once again, placing the cup of tea on the bedside table.

"Hi, honey.." Patton mumbled, rolling over to face Roman. Roman smiled softly, laying down next to Patton.

"Cuddles?" Patton asked, holding his arms out and doing grabby hands. Roman couldn't help but blush at this, sweeping him into his arms and holding him. Patton giggled quietly, smiling and blushing.

"Do you know anything about what happened last night?" Roman spoke up.

"No, is everything okay?" Patton immediately grew concerned.

"Well Thomas and Nico got into a bit of an..argument...late last night." Realization struck Patton like a brick. He finally realized why he felt so horrible. Heartbreak. Then why hadn't the cracks shown up yet?

"Do you have a mirror I can borrow?" Patton asked, sitting up and rolling off of Roman.

"What?" Roman was beyond confused.

"It's complicated! I just need a mirror and quick!" Patton began to shake, worrying about almost everything at the exact moment. This has only happened one other time, and Patton was lucky to survive it. But that was years ago. Patton didn't know if he'd make it through this one. Heartbreak. Such a literal term in the sense of sides.

"I think there's a handheld one on my desk, but that's all the was across the hall. You'd be better off just going to the bathroom." Patton nodded, slowly getting up.

"Are you sure you're okay to walk? I don't want you getting hurt. I can go with you if-"

"I'm fine," He reassured, stumbling quickly out of the room. That left behind a very worried and confused Roman.

Patton ran to the bathroom, holding the wall as he did so. He slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it as he leaned on the marble counter. He brushed his bangs out of his face with his hand, seeing the smallest crack, starting at his hairline and going down onto his forehead.

"Shoot.."

Patton knew that when something like this happened, Virgil was always affected. Whether Thomas is anxious that Nico doesn't love him as much as he used to, or he's scared that they're going to break up, Virgil is going to be affected to some degree. Patton made sure to put his bangs back in place, going out of the bathroom and towards Virgils room.

He creeked open the door, not trying to scare his dark strange son. Virgils head shot up as soon as he heard the quiet noise. He took off his headphones in a rush as he paused his music.

"Hey Kiddo, can I come in..?" Patton asked gently, peeking his head in. Virgil could only nod and hum, not trusting his voice. Patton walked in, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, Pat." Virgil mumbled, his voice slightly distorted. The father figure was leaning on the door frame, keeping his balance. Patton gave a small wave, walking over to his bed and trying not to collapse on the way.

"Dad, are you alright? Last night Thomas-" Virgil said quickly, before Patton cut him off. Patton stayed silent, but moved his hand up to shove his bangs back and show the small crack - soon to grow bigger - to Virgil. Virgil let out a gasp, he swore his heart stopped for a second.

"I-It can't be happening again...! No! I-I won't let it happen!" Virgil had started crying. Patton let out a choked cough, before wiping Virgils tears away with the other hand. The only thing that could be heard was Virgils rapid breathing, until Patton spoke once again.

"I'm going to be okay Kiddo. Relax. Take a breather." He said as he held Virgils face. His own dizziness almost made him fall over as he scooted towards the scared and anxious boy. Virgil nodded, trying to get his breath back to normal. Patton put an arm around Virgil, rubbing his back in the slightest.

"Here Virge, copy my breathing." Patton took a deep, exaggerated breath, trying not to cough. Patton whispered small reassurances, such as "It's going to be okay." or "Breathe,".

They seemed to be working as Virgil slowly calmed down. Once Virgil could finally breathe again, he layed his head into Pattons shoulder, in which Patton brought up a hand to stroke his hair quietly.

"What if something bad happens to you?" Virgil mumbled, playing with his hoodie sleeves.

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, Kiddo." Patton said in a tone that was at least one octave down from his normal, cheery one.

It was too serious. And it scared Virgil.

"But Dad..." His voice began to distort again, "...I don't think I can live without you..." This brought on a whole new wave of tears for Virgil.

"Oh Kiddo... C'mere.. It's going to be okay.." Patton said as he wrapped his arms around Virgil as tight as he could without hurting him. Virgil gripped onto one of those arms as if Patton would disappear if he didn't. Patton could feel the crack expanding down towards his eyebrow, something he'd have to cover up later with makeup. But he decided to ignore it for now. Although a tear escaped his eye, he still managed to keep a calm smile on his face.

Meanwhile, Roman was talking with Logan in the kitchen once again.

"I guess I'm just...worried? The last time Patton was sick like this was..." Roman said, trying to remember when the time he was referencing was. Then it hit him, "Thomas' last breakup." It was almost under his shaking breath.

"What're you guys talking about?~" Remus sang, walking in with Janus.

"Oh! Janus! Just the guy I needed to see!" Logan exclaimed, ignoring Remus completely.

"Hm?" Janus cocked an eyebrow, confused but still paying careful attention.

"You were there at Thomas' and Nicos fight, correct?"

But Patton overheard everything. Of course it was Janus who would've been in the fight. He probably caused it in the first place. Another piece of his forehead cracked, leaving a terrible sight. He actually trusted Janus for once. And he was mad at himself for it.

A few minutes passed of overthinking and hugging Virgil. Patton, lost in his thought, barely even heard the small curse that came out of Virgils mouth.

"Shit, Pat, you're bleeding." Virgil muttered, his tears now dry, but the stains still on his cheeks. The hug had ended, apparently.

"Hm?" Patton was still busy thinking, only looking at Virgil in his peripheral view.

"Patton for Gods sake pay attention to me! You! Are! Bleeding!" Virgil raised his voice, done with Pattons bullshittery for today, even though it was only the morning.

"Wait what? Where?"

Virgil reached up towards Pattons forehead, wiping a dribble of the red, sticky liquid off of his warm skin. Virgil was shocked, gasping in the slightest. He put his other, uncontaminated hand on the other side of his forehead, making sure not to hit any of the cracks.

"You're burning up." Virgil whispered to himself, placing a soft hand on Pattons cheek.

"Oh, I would've never guessed!" Patton joked, giggling a bit.

"Have you taken your temperature at all??"

"Roman mentioned something about a fever when I woke up, but I'm not sure if he took it." Virgil thought for a moment, Pattons words finally registering in his head.

"You...slept with Roman...?" Virgil recoiled, making a disgusted face at Patton.

"Not the point, but yeah, I slept with him." Virgil shook his head, trying to get those thoughts out of his head.

"Just...lye down, I'm grabbing the thermometer." Virgil said as get got up.

"But this is your bed?" Patton wasn't upset by this, no, but he didn't want to intrude. Especially considering the fact that Virgil normally didn't like the other sides touching his stuff in the first place.

"And? You're laying down. You're swaying just sitting there. Did you think I couldn't see it?" Virgil growled, putting a firm hand on Pattons shoulder.

"No." His voice was fragile and weak. Virgil could feel his anxiety heighten at this. He's never seen Patton just this vulnerable before. He gave a slight force to Pattons shoulder, pushing him out of the sitting position he was in, and back onto the pillow. He had barely pushed. Just a mere pressure, almost less than gravity gave.

Patton let his legs stretch out naturally, not bothering to stop it from happening. Virgil gave a slight sympathetic chuckle, pulling a thin blanket over him from the end of his own bed.

"I'll be right back, 'kay Dad?"

"M'kay.." Patton mumbled, curling onto himself and gripping the blanket. Virgil gave one more glance towards the curled up figure on his dark bed before leaving the room.

He came almost face to face with a fuming Prince as soon as he stepped into the hallway.

"Well hello to you too, Princey." Virgil remarked sarcastically. Roman just grumbled.

"If that snake wouldn't have been the only side awake during the argument, this wouldn't have happened." Roman just now looked up at Virgil, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Fuck off, I was there, too." He slapped his arm playfully.

"Wait, seriously??" Roman almost yelled, making Virgil wince.

"Yup." He said in a monotone voice, trying to leave the conversation. He started to walk away, but Roman caught his hood, keeping him in place.

"What is it now?" He grumbled.

"Have you seen Patton?"

"Yeah, he's in my room resting."

"Is he oka-" Before Roman could finish that question, it was immediately answered by a scream, coming from Virgils room.

"Shit." Virgil immediately ran back into his room, swinging the door open. Roman followed close behind, worry filling his veins.

Patton was curled up in a tight ball, his hands held over his mouth as black liquid mixed with blood poured from it. Tears were streaming down his cheeks in a steady flow, mixing with the other two fluids. He could barely see, but he was able to quickly yell a, "It hurts!!" as he screwed his eyes shut. He was hit with another wave of pain as more blood poured down his forehead. The crack was at least two times bigger than Virgil had last seen, although he was gone for barely a minute.

"Help.." He whispered as Virgil ran over to him, but Roman was stuck at the door. He couldn't move. He didn't know how to.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. It's okay. I know it hurts. Breathe. Breathe for me." Virgil rambled, holding Patton tightly in his arms.

"V-Virge..?" Patton whispered as he gripped the fabric of his soft hoodie, letting out another, quieter sob. Virgil just nodded, allowing Patton soak his clothes with tears and blood, making a mental note to clean it off later.

Logan walked in, confused but mad.

"WHY IS EVERYONE..." he saw Patton, "...yelling..." he finished, mumbling.

Heartbreak. What everyone in that room felt. Patton. Virgil. Logan. But especially Roman.

He was having his own mini panic attack, still standing in the doorway with Logan. Logan put a soft hand on his upper arm, rubbing circles with his thumb.

"It's going to be alright, Roman. Can you take a deep breath with me?" Logan asked, gripping his shoulders firmly, but in a caring way, making sure to not let go.

Roman gave a hasty nod, looking Logan in the eyes.

"In," Logan started, mentally counting out 4 seconds exactly.

"Now hold," He said as he began to count 7 seconds.

"Now out." 8 seconds.

Logan gave a satisfied smile, "Good. Now, can you try that again?"

They did the breathing exercise for a few minutes, Logan still holding onto Romans shoulders. But Logan moved his hand a bit to wipe a stray tear that was dribbling down Romans cheek, making it dry once again.

But more tears poured as Roman shook Logan off, going to his boyfriend. Logan followed, not having much else to do. Patton had calmed down - thanks to Virgil - the slightest bit. He was still coughing up a bit of blood, and the unidentifiable black liquid from before, though. But he could actually breathe now without letting out another sob, so that's progress. Even if it's just a bit.

As soon as Patton realized that Roman was there, he crawled over to him, laying his head on his shoulder. Roman wrapped his arms around him, giving him a hug, and a small kiss on the top of his head. Much to Logans and Virgils surprise, Patton broke down once again, leaning fully into Roman.

"Let it out, baby. Let it all out... It's okay..." Roman ran his fingers through Pattons soft but tangled hair, giving him small kisses. Patton sobbed so hard that it almost hurt more than the growing cracks. He just wanted to be okay.

Logan sat on the bed next to the others, making a small circle/triangle type group. He patted the sobbing boys back softly, trying his best to be comforting. Pattons eyes began to burn, more than tears ever could. He let out a small whimper, trying not to cry out in pain. He put a hand to his cheek, in which his tears were rolling down. Or well, he thought it was tears. But it was just the same black liquid as before.

Heartbreak...

What may be the end of Pattons whole life.

His actions being uncontrollable, he coughed hard, more liquid reddening his eyes as he sobbed.

"I-it...h-hurts..." He croaked out, curling in on himself as he shook.

"I know, Pat. Just keep breathing. It's okay. You're going to be okay." Virgil spoke, sliding into the hug. Logan decided to join the group hug, they all held Patton in their arms. Patton gave a sad, bloody, smile, enjoying the warmth around him. He coughed once again, more blood spilling out. None of the sides were bothered by the stains that soaked their clothes. But they were all bothered by the sight of Patton. It hurt each of them.

"I...I love you all.." Patton said much too clearly, pain contorting his face.

"Goodbye."

Heartbreak.

What had killed Patton that morning.

[And the artwork I promised in the warnings✨]

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg y'all mind if I continue this travesty (part 1)

Heads Up- Part 2 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

The sun shone brightly through Joseph's window, its dazzling radiance rousing the exhausted artist from his slumber.

Well, that was a strange dream, he thought.

He remembered everything that took place last night. When he started seeing things, perhaps having a nightmare, fueled by his anxiety about finishing college. About graduating, becoming a professional, chasing his dream.

Anxious enough to dream that his creation started talking to him.

Joseph sat up and saw himself staring at an empty table across the room. There was nothing there, save for a few pencils and sheets of paper.

"C-Caesar?" he asked, somewhat reluctantly as if refusing to affirm the name from last night's dream. No reply.

He walked out of his room, heading toward the kitchen to make himself his morning coffee. And first thing he saw, resting atop the kitchen table, was his bust, his magnum opus, resting still and silent with vacant eyes staring into nothingness.

Like any proper sculpture should.

Joseph sighed and began to pour himself a hot cup. He turned his back on the bust for a moment, stirring his coffee and taking a sip.

And then he heard a voice.

"Well, Joseph, didn't expect you so early," it said.

Joseph flinched, spitting out his coffee from sheer surprise. He wheeled around with a confused frown, his shirt and face drenched in hot coffee, only to come face to face with his bust--once again animate, expressive and alive, like last night.

Caesar.

Caesar made a few small hops to face himself in Joseph's direction and chuckled lightly to himself, his eyes once again bright and alive.

"Y-you're real..." Joseph said, pointing at Caesar. "You're...not a dream, are you?"

"Suppose not," Caesar said matter-of-factly. "And you'd left me here on this table all night."

Joseph scratched his head.

"Ugh...sorry about that," Joseph said, sheepishly.

"Would you mind setting me down on the floor?" Caesar asked, somewhat annoyed in tone. "I've been so uncomfortable here being so high up and afraid of falling..."

Joseph set down his coffee cup and dried his hands. "Sure thing, I guess," he said with a shrug, and with a little strain lifted the heavy sculpture and rested him gently on the ground.

"Thank you," Caesar sighed, looking around the house now that he was on a more comfortable level. He turned his neck from side to side as he took in his surroundings, looking around from side to side.

"You've got a pretty cozy place to stay, don't you?" Caesar said, as he began to hop. Joseph just stared in confused acceptance of the situation as he watched the flesh-toned bust, looking every bit like a truncated stump of a man, slowly and clumsily make its way toward his living room.

Joseph watched as Caesar hopped, making heavy thumps as he went. He was certainly as heavy as he looked, made of dense clay, and with hop his tiny residue of a torso barely just cleared the floor, propelling him forward a few inches each time.

Joseph felt a pang of guilt seeing how difficult it was for Caesar to move. He felt responsible for his sorry state. Not that Caesar seemed to mind as of the moment, thumping along slowly but surely toward the living room to inspect its contents.

"I better just leave you on the floor for now," Joseph assessed. "Wouldn't want any nasty falls ruining my perfect artwork."

"You're such a tease," Caesar replied.

With a smile, Joseph retreated into his room to check on the rest of his work. With Caesar on the floor and the door locked, he figured he should let Caesar get a chance to look around for a bit after being stuck on the table all night.

-----

Caesar looked around with curiosity and fascination around the house as he hopped his way along. With all the furniture, appliances, and even Joseph himself towering above the living bust, just a bit over a foot tall with only a head, neck and a bit of chest and shoulders, everything appeared huge in comparison to Caesar from his perspective on the floor.

Caesar felt so small.

But why? Wasn't he only created yesterday, as Joseph had said? How come he felt like he should be bigger? That something felt missing? If he had been alive only for a day, how come he knew the names of the things in Joseph's house, like the whirring thing called a refrigerator, or the noisy thing called a television?

As if he'd seen them before?

Yet in his current state Caesar's reduced form didn't feel...wrong. Just... strange. He didn't know whether it was strange in a bad way, or a good way, but he decided he shouldn't be bothering himself with such thoughts as of the moment, as his curiosity got the better of him and he continued to explore the house.

-------

Meanwhile, in his room, Joseph was trying to study. The bust--no, Caesar,-- was his final project, due in two months, but he still had other things to work on, reflection papers, sketches, that were to be passed sooner.

Joseph figured he'd deal with those first and foremost, before he had to figure out how to pass his semester with his project now turned into his unexpected roommate. That problem could wait for now.

But as Joseph attempted to finish his sketches, some heavy thumps from outside, along with faint, strained groans of effort, caught his ears. He tried to ignore it at first, but soon it began to bother him as a few hours passed.

Thump. Ugh. Thump. Ugh.

Joseph dropped his pencil and buried his head into his arms with a sigh.

Had he condemned Caesar to exist as such? As a half-formed, incomplete creation, that also happened to now be a living person?

Joseph wondered if he could complete his project, or rather, add more to it. He after all had only planned Caesar to be a bust--but now that he was alive and aware, was it wrong to keep him a bust?

He didn't know how to sculpt bodies, which why he'd stopped with a head in the first place. He pictured how much extra clay he would need, how long it would take, weeks maybe, and whether he should set aside his other projects to make Caesar complete.

What was more important right now? His semester, or the being he accidentally ushered to life?

It was late afternoon by the time Joseph surrendered in his attempt to finish his sketch. His stomach grumbling, he left the room to fetch himself dinner.

--------

Joseph opened his door to be greeted by a series of bouncing thumps. He looked downward and saw Caesar hopping toward the kitchen.

"You seem to have gotten quite good at this," Joseph said, amused.

"I've been practicing," Caesar replied. "It's all I got going for me."

Joseph watched amazed as Caesar continued to hop around. He'd learned how to thrust his head forward with each jump, and, able to move his residual shoulders ever so slightly for added momentum, was able to catapult himself for longer, more stable jumps, managing to maintain his balance upright with each landing on his now-flattened base, which had rubbed off a little paint but was otherwise intact.

Joseph wondered if it was uncomfortable for Caesar. Did he get tired? Did his muscles ache being forced to move this way?

But looking at Caesar, as he inspected the cupboard under the stairs, he felt not. He hopped like he'd always had, despite his earlier complaints last night about not having a body, and being made of clay, Joseph supposed he didn't have any muscles for him to ache, anyway.

It was surprising how quickly Caesar managed to adapt.

"What are these?" asked Caesar, as he hopped over to a small box on the floor. Using his lips, he gently picked up a small object--a paintbrush-- and turned to look toward Joseph with the brush in his mouth.

"Those are my art supplies," Joseph scolded, as he came over and took away the brush, placing it back in the box and lifting the box onto a table, out of Caesar's reach. "Please don't mess around with them." Caesar frowned in disappointment.

"Though I do have to admit, I'm impressed," Joseph chortled as he placed the box of art supplies onto the living room table. "Looks like you've also learned how to pick up and hold objects with only your mouth."

"It's not like I have a choice," Caesar replied with a shrug, or at least the closest approximation to a shrug that he could manage. "I have no hands, remember?"

"Like I could forget," Joseph snarked back, kneeling down to be closer to his level and playfully poking a finger into Caesar's partial chest.

"And since you've figured out how to move around, and pick up and hold stuff, perhaps I ought to teach you how to do some tasks and activities, so you won't be all too helpless, even though you're...well..." He gestured toward Caesar's stub of a torso, prompting an annoyed grimace from the clay figure.

"Hmph, oh well," Caesar grumbled. "At least that sounds kind of nice to have something to do, it's been dreadfully boring the entire night on the table."

Joseph smiled down at Caesar, but before he could reply, a knock on the door caught both of their attention.

"Joseph!" said a cheerful female voice from outside the front door. "I'm just here for a visit!"

"Suzi!" Joseph exclaimed, panicking. "We can't let her see you!"

---------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[muddyhippy]

Night Terrors Chapter 9: Battles after Bedtime

Wonderful artwork as always done by the fabulous @smolghostings!

Lily woke up as a rush of masked faces loomed at her. She lurched up gasping and surveyed her room, bathed as always in the glow of the little moon lamp.

 Nothing. Just a bad dream. Not even that scary and they were definitely not here now.

 Lily took stock. She felt alright. She probably wouldn’t go back to sleep immediately but she wasn’t scared enough to want to go and get in with Jonny. She was awake and a bit unhappy but she wasn’t scared.

 She hugged her knees for a minute before deciding what she wanted.

 Lily hopped out of bed and put her new boots on, the ones that were heavy for kicking and stomping but had pretty flowers embroidered all over them. She’d picked them out herself at the last market they’d visited. They made her feel big and strong and just as stompy as the rest of her friends.

 It was nice to wear them when she was out in the night time of Aurora, like she was prepared for things even if they were unexpected.

 She could still be quiet in them too and that was even better, it meant she could sneak past people if she wanted too. She never snuck up on them though, that was dangerous. Jonny had told her so the first time she’d tried to jump on his back in a surprise hug. He’d been very nice and Jonny about it but he’d warned that just because he realised at the last minute it was her the others might not and think they were being attacked. She wasn’t silly, she saw the look in his eyes before he realised it was her. He looked like he did the first time she came to his room after a nightmare.

 That was a bad look.

 That was a scary Jonny, not her Jonny.

Lily had no doubt whatsoever the rest of them had scary faces too and that was fine because that was what kept them all safe. It was a little bit different to her normal hugging he’d explained, because they couldn’t see it coming so even Marius might think she was a threat.

 She didn’t really comprehend the idea of them actually being a danger to her because they were her friends but was very careful anyway after that.

 She truly understood what Jonny was saying a few days later when Brian had accidentally surprised her in the kitchen. He knocked the handle of pot that was waiting to be put away, it fell off the side take half a dozen of its friends to the floor with it.

 Lily had seized the (thankfully) empty frying pan that was awaiting mushrooms and swung it fully at Brian’s face, convinced the noise meant raiders were about to descend on her.

 It look Lily a full three seconds to realise that what she’d done was hurl a heavy pan directly at her friend’s face and promptly burst into tears, running towards Brian wailing ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ Over and over again.

 Brian was genuinely non-plussed for a moment. He had just taken a pan to the face but that was getting off lightly compared to most days. He was just thinking how impressed he was at her strength and aim when she cannoned into his legs, fully wailing.

 Oh right. This sort of reaction to a startling sound shouldn’t be normal in children. (Or anyone but that was a moot point with this crew)

 Brian wasted no more time in picking her up and settling her against him, rubbing her back the way he’d seen Jonny do many times over the past few weeks.

 “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Are you okay?! I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry!”

 “Hey, hey now, it’s alright, it’s alright, it was an accident, I’m fine, I’m fine.” And he was, it took more than a kitchen accessory flung in fright to damage him. “Want to tell me what happened?”

 Brian knew exactly what had happened but it would do her good to recount it, then he could explain.

 “I-I-I, I-there was a big noise, it was crashing and it sounded just like on the ship and I thought the bad ones had come back and I wanted to stop them because they’re bad and I didn’t want them to hurt everyone here so I threw the pan because it might stop them but, but it wasn’t them! And that was silly because you wouldn’t let them on board anyway and then, then I’d thrown the pan at YOU and I’m sorry!” Lily started sobbing again.

 Brian let her cry herself out a bit, rubbing her back and holding her through it. Once she’d calmed down a bit, Brian humming Rose Red throughout she sniffed against his shoulder.

 “Can you hear me?”

 He received a wet nod to the neck.

 “Good, alright, Lily, I need you to listen to me, can you do that?”

 Another wet nod.

 “Good girl, it’s alright, you were scared and you reacted. It’s very understandable. Everyone here does that sometimes when they are surprised like you were. I know Jonny’s told you about this already and you’ve been very good and careful about not surprising us and I am very proud of you for that because I know you like to jump up and hug people. It’s just what happens when people have had times when they’ve been very, very scared and have been in danger like you. We all know what it’s like so I’m not cross and I’m not upset. I know you didn’t mean it, I’ll do my very best not to make big crashing noises around you. But I’m not cross and I’m not hurt.” He knew that was her big hang up. “We’d never let anyone on-board Aurora to scare you either.”

 Lily sniffed, “I know, you’d shoot them all first.”

 “Yes we would.” Well, the rest of them certainly would, if he was on EJM at the time he might get a little more creative and Jonny would most likely forget he had a gun use his bare hands if anyone made a move towards Lily, if that time a drunken barfly took offence at Nastya turning him down was anything to go by but she didn’t need to know that.

 “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

 “That you’re not cross with me, that getting scared and fighting even if there’s no one there to fight is something that happens sometimes if you’ve been in danger and scared a lot. That is happens to everyone here and that’s why everyone tries to look after each other by not scaring each other.”

 “Very good, you’re an excellent listener.”

 “I still don’t like that I did that.”

 “I know little flower. I don’t like it when I do that either. None of us do. But bit by bit it gets a bit easier to manage, it helps knowing you’re safe with us.”

 “I know. I’m very safe with you all.”

 “Good. Just give it time.”

 “I’ll try.”

 She made absolutely no move to let go. Exhausted from the emotional outburst and enjoying the sense of security the pilot gave out, he was so strong and solid.

 Brian didn’t mind, it was nice to be wanted as a reassuring presence.

 Ivy and Marius ended up cooking dinner that night.  

 Lily was extra careful after that, very aware of how nasty it could be to be scared and accidentally hurt people because you were scared and she didn’t want to make her friends feel bad.

 The one person she never needed to be careful of was the Toy Soldier. The Toy Solider loved to be hugged and pounced on and played with. Lily practiced creeping up on it for tackle hugs and it always seemed to enjoy being included in any of her games. Lily loved the Toy Soldier, it always had interesting stories to tell and sung beautifully. It had taught her lots of songs and sayings and she loved to listen to it. It was amazing at playing games too.

 It was late enough that no one was around, Lily didn’t mind being on her own as much anymore because she could hear Aurora and knew there was someone there with her, even if they weren’t immediately visible. Lily could hum to Aurora and Aurora would hum back. Aurora was usually humming but she’d change her pitch depending on what Lily was humming directly to her to show she was listening.

 Sometimes it was happy tune and sometimes it was a soft one but it always sounded friendly and comforting.  

 She reached the mess without bumping into anyone or anything going wrong, plans of things to make tomorrow bubbling happily in her brain, if she was less tired she might have made some bread dough and left it to rise. Raphaella had made her some what she called ‘super yeast’ that only needed a little bit and could be left out for hours to rise. It made some impressive loaves once Lily and Marius worked out the right amounts. The first time had been messy. And sticky. But they got all the dough off the walls eventually.

 What she wanted right now was glass of warm milk then she could head back to bed. She’d had no idea how good warm milk could be, then again, she’d had no idea how good milk was full stop.

  As Lily headed in she did not expect company.

 She definitely did not expect to see the Toy Soldier sat at the table with the entire contents of the cutlery drawer dumped on the table which it was calmly sorting through.

 Lily stood and watched fascinated for a moment before curiosity got the better of her.

 “What are you doing TS?”

 “Oh! Lily! How Nice To See You!”

 “It’s nice to see you too TS but what are you doing?”

 “I Am Arranging All The Cutlery Into Proper Ranks. They Are Most Disorganised!”

 “What do you mean by rank? Are they just knife for cutting, fork for stabbing and spoon for scooping?”

 “No No No! They All Have Different Jobs You See And They All Have A Proper Place!”

 “But there’s only those three jobs?”

 “No, There Are Lots Of Different Jobs Young Bean!”

 “Oh. Can you show me please?”

 The Toy Soldier, whilst its face didn’t change looked somehow more delighted that usual.

 It very much liked Lily, she was so small but so full of energy and affection, it made it feel even more thrilled about playing with its’ friends because the games got a lot more gentle and lots more people joined in. They didn’t play their usual games as often, knife monopoly, gun karaoke and switchblade snakes and ladders were only played after Lily went to bed but they tended to play more games all together which was jolly nice and Lily always asked it to play which it adored.

 They’d all played the shooting game without bullets using the coloured water bombs instead several times and each had been spiffing fun! It had joined Lily in ganging up on several of the crew in a surprise attack, little Lily was becoming a sharp little tactical bean. Tim had talked about creating soft bullets they could shoot instead that wouldn’t hurt or break things and had shown it his blueprints for the new gun designs to shoot the soft bullets, it looked jolly complicated but it liked complicated mechanics. Tim had asked it to help because it and Brian were the best at clockwork mechanics and Tim wanted to avoid his usual barrel strike or laser model versions. It was nice to see him so excited about a new weapon, TS loved seeing its friends happy. Lily was helping Tim, Brian and it build the new gun too, she tested the weight of them.

 Lily understood the joy of being included.

 She would also make a good soldier if she wanted to be. When she was bigger. A proper uniform wouldn’t fit her yet and that just wouldn’t do.

 But it very much enjoyed Lily’s company, she was an excellent tea party guest and made lovely cakes with it in the kitchen, she made the effort to be extra delicate and even made literal tea cakes with finely powdered earl grey and lavender icing. Utterly delightful!

 Lily was its friend and it cared about her a lot. She was a very good listener and gave it hugs every time she saw it. She’d asked very politely too, she had much better manners than the rest of its friends and had asked if it minded at all if she hugged it a lot? It hadn’t minded at all, it loved to be included and Lily made an excellent companion in game-playing, story-telling and song-singing.

 She made it feel even more real and a big part of everything. It was very pleased about that. It liked Lily a great a deal and was always happy to spend time in her company.

 It carefully went through all the different cutlery on the table and what they were used for, Lily liked listening to the Toy Soldier talk even though half of what it said sailed over her head, it was so enthusiastic and friendly no matter what it was doing or what was happening. It was nice and made her feel that everything was alright. You couldn’t talk like that or care about little forks and spoons when your ship was being raided.

 It made her feel safe whenever she listened to it. That the world was only a pot of tea, tiny cakes and neat cucumber sandwiches away from being alright again. She loved making up new and fancier cake recipes for their tea parties. She was so proud of herself when she managed to pour the perfect cup of tea for TS using its special fancy pots it called a ‘service’, pouring the milk in first because the fancy cup was made out of something called ‘bone china’ and pouring hot tea into it from the pot would damage it if it went in first. Then she stirred it carefully and picked up two little sugar lumps with tiny silver tongs and stirred the tea again before handing it to TS. It drank it in it’s own way and declared it was the best cup of tea it had ever been given and it had drunk a lot of tea.

 Lily had glowed with the praise and set to enjoying her own cup beaming throughout the rest of their tea party.

 It didn’t take long for Lily to climb onto its lap for a cuddle because maybe she was a bit scared after all and TS was solid and strong and safe. She could always tell herself it was because she wanted a better look at the assembly arranged on the table. It was even sort of true.

 TS wrapped a supportive wooden arm around her and carried on happily, enjoying having company, Lily was a very good listener and it liked being cuddled. Lily was very good at cuddling, it made TS feel special and as included as everyone else. It carried on explaining the different scenarios in which a salad fork maybe used.

 Lily was just beginning to settle when she got an idea that demanded attention, she voiced it immediately, “These look like the military units Tim was talking about who have different weapons, if these were different war people, what would they do?”

 The Toy Soldier glowed with excitement, very much liking this idea having had it before. Now it could show someone who appreciated its attention to detail!

 “I Can Show You!”

 It was another two hours before Lily was nearly sleep-walked back to bed then gently picked up and carried carefully the rest of the way and tucked in by a very happy Toy Soldier who hadn’t had quite so much fun in a jolly long time.

                                ******************************************

 That morning when Lily casually swapped the fish knife in Jonny’s hand for a butter knife when he reached to slather pancakes she’d made he looked very confused. When she explained it was the wrong knife he looked disgusted. He zeroed in on the Toy Soldier who was happily sipping tea from a china cup and saucer.

 “You!”

 The rest of the group froze. Jonny’s patience with TS was legendarily short, it was miracle he hadn’t shot it yet. Several of them braced to haul Lily out of the way whilst the rest prepared to yell at Jonny for the next few hours.  

 “What Ho Old Chap! These Pancake Are Jolly Delightful What?!”

 “Have you been teaching Lily etiquette?!” He spat, incandescent at the idea it had been filling her head with complete nonsense.

 It was utterly un-phased in the face of Jonny’s fury, “Of Course! It’s An Important Thing For A Young Person To Know!”

 It took everything Jonny had not to blow its head off right then and there.

 “No it is isn’t! If Nastya, an actual princess doesn’t bother there is literally no point!”

 Nastya was about to argue back that he should mind his own goddamned business and maybe it wasn’t a terrible thing that their youngest crew member knew her way around a knife and fork unlike some unabashed heathens when another voice piped up.

 “Jonny! Don’t be cross!” Admonished Lily, looking utterly unimpressed, “TS taught me last night when I came to get some milk, it was fun! We turned them into fighters and we had a battle! General Tablespoon won because she lured Marshall Ladle into a trap in the valley of condiments and hit their teaspoon infantry with her flanks of fork knights!”

 All eyes that had focused on Lily flipped back to Jonny fascinated to see what he’d do, this was far too entertaining to ignore; breakfast was rarely so engaging.

 Without missing a beat and with the same level of intensity now missing the annoyance Jonny carried on with the new information, “Well, okay, were you advising General Tablespoon?”

 “Yes!”

 “Well good!” He blustered, “Excellent tactics!”

 Tim, deeply proud of Lily but also finding Jonny being put on the spot by their eight year old hilarious nearly ruptured something with Marius and Ashes not far behind. The whole table was laughing within seconds, and after a moment Jonny included. He couldn’t be annoyed that Lily had found a way to play and enjoy herself when she’d clearly been woken up by another bad dream, there was no other reason as to why she’d be up with TS late at night. He was still going to shoot the Toy Soldier when he next got the chance but he was pleased it at least had done a half decent job looking after her.

 Maybe it would get a pass.

 Just this once.  

[captorations]

Echoes

I suppose this qualifies for @miraculous-events Alyanette Week, Day 2: Baking, but it was specifically prompted by this drawing by @buggachat. I didn’t intend to do Alyanette Week, and probably won’t do any more, but I saw that cute artwork, had a related cute idea, and then turned that cute idea into a hurt/comfort idea. I then entered an unknowable godlike state, and when I exited it some hours later, this fic had manifested. This is known as the writing process.

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

A great deal had been lost in the events surrounding Miracle Queen’s reign. Her mentor. Her allies, save for one. Her burgeoning faith in Chloé Bourgeois. Even her love.

Well, she didn’t lose her crush on Adrien. It just… changed. And was joined by another.

Marinette had woken up that morning believing she was a straight girl who could only ever love and be loved by one person. And while that night was plagued by far worse terrors than the realization that Kagami Tsurugi now held a place in her heart along Adrien Agreste, and that she was okay with that and every implication thereof, it was a part of her new reality all the same.

In the weeks that followed, Papillon all but vanished. Oh, every now and then some minor irritant of an akuma would pop up, but nothing dangerous or that made Ladybug miss her allies for more than emotional reasons. Mayura had gone completely off the grid and had yet to resurface. Marinette questioned whether her snatching victory from the jaws of defeat, more drastically than ever before, had shaken Papillon’s resolve; after all, the Turtle Miraculous had been left unguarded on the wrist of an unconscious old man, and the villain hadn’t bothered to take it. Or make an attempt at the Miracle Box, still held by a teenager throwing a temper tantrum.

Perhaps Papillon simply wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. That was a comforting thought, but not one Marinette could rely on. At any rate, the recent if likely temporary dearth of akuma had allowed Marinette to, at her own pace and leisure, tell the other heroes the bad news. All but one.

Kim and Max, who had only wielded the power of the Miraculous two and three times respectively including the forced transformation, didn’t seem to mind. Kim in particular had been more interested in the chance to arm-wrestle one of the saviours of Paris than the danger he was now possibly in. She’d let him win.

Luka, as ever, took the news calmly. Ladybug cut that meeting short, unable to handle those pale, kind eyes that seemed to look right through her. Only a day previously had the boy told her civilian self that he was glad her heart had begun to sing more clearly, even if it wasn’t for him as he’d hoped. How he’d guessed, she had no clue.

Kagami already knew, somehow or another. Perhaps Chat had told her? Ladybug hadn’t stayed long enough to ask, fearful that her Marinette-like stuttering in the girl’s presence might somehow override magic powerful enough to disguise her identity from her own parents. That would be just her luck. At any rate, Kagami could handle herself. The girl was a warrior, with or without the Dragon.

Nino… poor Nino. It’d hurt him. Of everyone Ladybug knew, Nino Lahiffe was very possibly the most suited to the mask. He had the pure heart of a real hero and the drive to protect others that made for a perfect Turtle. Those same traits, however, had meant that he’d accepted the loss and promised to help however he could regardless. Even if it put him in danger again. Overwhelmed, Ladybug had hugged him.

So that left Alya.

Alya.

Alya, who had inspired Marinette to be Ladybug in the first place. Alya, who was her best friend. Alya, who loved being Rena Rouge more than anything in the world.

How could Marinette have let this happen?

“You have to tell her!” chirped Tikki. The kwami had given her the space she’d requested, but the longer Marinette put it off, the more insistent the reminders grew. True, Papillon hadn’t made any kind of move against her revealed allies, and Marinette wasn’t even sure what she’d do if he did. The fact remained that the now ex-heroes needed to be aware of their vulnerability.

“I know. I just…”

“Marinette.”

The girl looked up from her homework. When Tikki said her name like that, she meant business. Every now and then, Marinette remembered she was dealing with a god millions of times her age. The tiny stature and squeaky voice made it easy to forget. “I… I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Tikki sighed. “Alright. I know it won’t be easy. But I think you’re underestimating her, Marinette.”

“What?”

“Your friend is stronger than you give her credit for. She’ll be okay.”

“That’s not it.” Marinette bit her lip. “What if… what if she hates me? She loves Ladybug so much. She thinks I’m perfect. She says so all the time. What will she do when she finds out I messed up so badly?”

The kwami wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t think that’s what Alya means by perfect.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Tikki flew in and gave Marinette a reassuring pat on the forehead. “Alya wouldn’t hate you. Not Ladybug, and certainly not Marinette. Trust me.”

“…Okay.”

  She could absolutely not do this.

Her best friend had spent the school day chattering away, happy as ever. Max and Kim were unaffected, though it had been some time now since she’d told them. Nino had gotten the news the preceding weekend, and only looked a little withdrawn. Adrien had asked after him, and he’d made up some story about a band he liked breaking up. Oddly, Adrien hadn’t quite seemed to accept that answer, and had insisted on treating Nino to lunch. That left Marinette alone with Alya, who was going over the noted lack of substantial akumas and what it could mean.

Marinette hadn’t said much. When Alya had asked if she was okay, Marinette had shakily parroted the question back at her, and then all but run away. Now, as Ladybug, perched on the roof of Alya’s apartment building, she was too scared to confront her.

Eventually, she gathered the scraps of her courage and slipped down the couple of stories to her best friend’s window. She didn’t even get to knock before the window shot open, Alya having picked up the subtle sounds of her approach as usual. “Hey, Ladybug. Got a scoop for me?”

Her excitement burned. Ladybug shook her head. “No recording this time, Alya.”

Oh no. That just made Alya brighten even further. Ladybug berated herself for being so stupid. That’s what she said when she was giving Alya her miraculous. Already, the girl had dismissed the aura of the Ladyblogger and was assuming that of Rena Rouge. She was looking at Ladybug’s yo-yo expectantly, waiting to see Trixx again.

Ladybug swallowed. There was a lump in her throat.

“Alya, I have some bad news…”

  A hero of Paris wasn’t allowed to cry. Not in public. Still, by the time she made it to her rooftop, tears were beading at the corners of her eyes. And as the pink light faded and Tikki rematerialized, Marinette collapsed on her bed, the tears flowing freely.

“It broke her, Tikki,” she blurted out to the concerned kwami in between the sobs wracking her body. “She just… stopped. It hurt so much. I couldn’t even stay, I just ran. I’m such a coward.”

“Marinette?”

“You were wrong. She might not hate me, but she hates Ladybug, and she deserves to. I shouldn’t be her friend, she deserves better than me.”

“Marinette!”

“Tikki, wha-”

The kwami threw her phone at her. Her buzzing phone. A quick glance confirmed her worst fears: a call from Alya. She shrieked and threw it to the other side of the bed. “No, no, I can’t, please don’t…”

The phone eventually stopped, and some minutes later, so did Marinette’s panic attack. As her heartbeat gradually slowed and she began to work her way past the paralysis gripping her mind and body, she heard Tikki’s voice.

“Marinette. Talk to her. You need her too.”

This time, Marinette didn’t argue. The kwami was right. She needed her Alya, and her Alya needed her. Shakily, she reached over and picked up her phone. Her best friend had left a couple messages.

Alya: Hey. Rough night. Mind if I head over? We haven’t had a sleepover in a while. Been missing you.

Alya: You’re not answering, and there’s no akuma, so you aren’t hiding somewhere. That means you probably can’t talk. Must be a rough night for us both, then. Be there in a few.

Marinette took a deep breath in, held it, and exhaled. She could do this.

Mere minutes later, Alya arrived, and Marinette slipped downstairs to let her in.

Her best friend was a little scattered and drained. That much was obvious at a glance. She’d been crying. Then again, so had Marinette, and she admitted as much when Alya accused her of it. “Want to talk about it?”

“No. You?”

“No. Or… not right now. Maybe later,” said Alya.

This was new. It was rare that they didn’t talk about what was bothering them. Marinette in particular only was unwilling to share during particularly bad moments, the ones where she couldn’t speak at all. In the ensuing silence, Marinette’s mind cast around for something for them to do, and settled on a task she’d been putting off. Tikki needed a resupply, and there was only so much of her parents’ baked goods she could steal. “Want to make cookies with me?”

Alya smiled. “Sure.”

  Maybe they shouldn’t have done this in the bakery proper. While Marinette was setting up, Alya had to shoo away a couple late night would-be customers, who were confused upon seeing the lights on. One of them didn’t speak French, but at least spoke the universal language of pointing and a dead-eyed glare from a tired, irritated teenage girl. Soon enough, they were left in peace.

Marinette went to fetch Alya an apron. She was about to pick an orange one, then stopped and chose a pink one like hers instead. Alya didn’t need any reminders of Rena Rouge tonight.

They got started, Marinette mostly directing Alya. The bakers’ daughter could do this in her sleep, and very nearly had before. Alya was more used to making proper meals for her younger siblings, not treats. They chatted as they worked, both carefully avoiding any mention of superheroes or akumas or anything even vaguely hinting that they lived in a city where magic ran rampant.  

Marinette cut herself off while complaining about the previous week’s math test. “Wait, I’m an idiot. I forgot the flour. Hang on.” She spotted a bag resting on an overhead shelf and went over to it.

“Pretty sure that’s too high for you, girl,” said Alya without turning around. “I was going to get it.”

“No, I can do it, one sec-”

She jumped for it, grabbed it- and promptly tumbled down with it, the bag opening and spilling all over Alya. Letting out a yelp, Marinette scrambled to her feet with her usual levels of grace to find Alya, hair and back fully coated in white, leaning on the counter shaking.

“Oh no, are you-”

Wait, she was laughing. She was absolutely laughing. Giggles burst from her chest, and despite the mess and the horrible day they’d both had, Marinette began to laugh too.

“Smooth, girl,” Alya eventually managed. “Top ten non-Adrien-related fumbles. Wish I’d caught that on video. Been meaning to set up a blog devoted to documenting and rating your ability to turn any ordinary situation into an absolute disaster.”

This was a joke Alya had made before. Marinette stuck her tongue out at her. “Well maybe I’ll make a blog dedicated to the question: when will Alya Césaire have enough blogs?”

“I can answer that for you right now, and it’s never. Anyway, should we clean this up?”

Marinette shook her head. “My parents always say if you try to clean as you go while baking you’ll never get anything done. Finish first, then I’ll get the broom.”

  They finished the cookies and returned the kitchen to a reasonably pre-disaster state soon enough, and Alya went to the bathroom to clean up while Marinette went up to her room to fetch spare pajamas.

It wasn’t the first time that Marinette’s missteps had resulted in Alya needing to borrow some clothes. At least this time she didn’t need to repair anything. Fixing a skirt which Marinette had briefly managed to light on fire while Alya was still wearing it (long story) had been a pain.

When she returned, Alya was staring at herself in the mirror, apparently completely transfixed. Her hands were gripping the edge of the sink like a lifeline. Marinette was confused for a moment, then it hit her.

Alya had managed to wash out most of the flour, but there was still a decent bit of white in her hair. Specifically, around the ends. Put an orange and white mask on her face and she’d look just like…

The girl who had been Rena Rouge stared at herself in the mirror, taunted by this echo of the hero who she could never be again, and couldn’t bring herself to look away.

Marinette had never been akumatized. There had been a couple of close calls, but Marinette had always made certain to not let anger overtake her completely. That, or direct it at Papillon. He seemed reluctant to akumatize anyone that would only try to use the power to hunt him down. Here and now, both those mitigating factors applied. What anger there was, on Alya’s behalf, was directed at the man who, in the end, was the cause of all this.

More than that, however, a completely different emotion dominated Marinette. A light, airy, but somehow burning feeling in her chest that threatened to lift her off her feet with its intensity. She wanted nothing but to make sure Alya never felt this kind of pain again, to sweep her away and hide her from anything and anyone that would do her harm. To see her smile again, the way that she had the day she became Rena Rouge, and never lose sight of that joy. To let Alya just be herself, with Marinette at her side.

Oh.

That was love, wasn’t it.

The realization was a calm one. When Kagami had begun sharing space in her heart, it had freaked her out for a whole host of reasons. Alya, however, was already there. She had always been, hadn’t she? Marinette had just never believed it was something she could feel for anyone but Adrien. Much less another girl. From one to two was a giant leap. From two to three… what difference was that, really?

Well, actually, there was a great deal of difference. Doubt riddled her every interaction with Adrien and Kagami. She was friends with them, yes, but she didn’t know them as well as she’d like to. That was the primary cause of her awkwardness around them; she didn’t know how to act or what to do. What to say, what not to say. Who to be.

Alya, however. Marinette knew Alya. Her heart didn’t speed up, looking up at Alya’s face, fully aware that her feelings for the girl were no longer merely platonic (if they ever really had been). It slowed down instead, a warm sense of peace filling her. She loved Alya Césaire, and in no reality would Alya Césaire hate her for it, even if she didn’t feel the same.

She wouldn’t be stuttering around this crush. The words came as easily as they always did, though Marinette chose them carefully. “Enjoying the view?”

Alya jolted out of her reverie. With one last, long look at her reflection, she turned away and smiled thinly at Marinette. “Sorry. Lost in thought. Go ahead upstairs, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Marinette did so, her heart still full to bursting.

  Alya hadn’t asked again about whatever was upsetting Marinette. Instead, the two simply ate the cookies they’d made as they chatted, Marinette hoping that Alya wouldn’t notice the occasional extra one going missing. Really, Tikki should know better.

Finally, something shifted in Alya’s tone. “Can… can I tell you something, Marinette?”

There was no question in Marinette’s mind as to what Alya was about to tell her. The strict, professional hero part of her wanted to scold Alya, but the best friend, the teenager, and the girl in love won out. Alya needed this, and what did it matter, really? She couldn’t be blamed for not being perfect, for not wanting to suffer in silence.

Maybe Marinette shouldn’t blame herself for that, either. “Yes, of course, Al.”

“I… I was Rena Rouge. Was. Ladybug came by today and said… during Chloe’s last akumatization, all the other heroes besides her and Chat Noir were mind controlled and Papillon saw their faces. I’ll never be Rena again.”

Both her hands were curled into fists and shaking. The pain was evident in every word. Once again, Marinette was struck with the desire to do something, anything, to relieve the weight on Alya’s shoulders. The urge almost knocked the wind out of her.

Uh oh. She’d forgotten to show any kind of surprise. Her best friend was staring at her now, mental gears clicking into place. Even in despair, the reporter instincts never completely left her.

“You already knew, didn’t you,” whispered Alya.

Marinette couldn’t lie to her face. Even if it meant Alya figuring out her identity, she couldn’t hurt her like that. “Yes.”

A long sigh was her response. “I thought so. It all made sense. You’ve been acting weird around me for weeks. Treating me like I was about to break. I couldn’t figure out why, and then Ladybug… well, you know the story. She must have told you first. I know you were a hero too, at some point. Chat Noir mentioned it once, said he wanted Ladybug to give you another chance.”

He what. “That stupid cat,” she muttered.

Alya caught her words. “Don’t blame him. I think he was mostly talking to himself and forgot I was there. Foxes are pretty sneaky, after all. And if it’s okay… can you tell me about it?”

Tikki shifted in her pocket. Marinette ignored her. “I was called Multimouse. I helped them with Kwamibuster. But Chat Noir saw me detransform, and besides the Mouse isn’t really all that useful most of the time, so…”

“Oh? What does the Mouse do?”

“Duplication, but you shrink as you divide. There were a bunch of little mes running around for a few minutes. It’s kind of a blur. Frankly, Al, I’m relieved I haven’t had to do it again.”

Alya hummed thoughtfully, a smile creeping onto the edge of her face. “What would you call a bunch of Marinettes? A herd? A cluster? Given your affinity for chaos, I’d say a cataclysm, but that’s taken.” She snapped her fingers. “A pandemonium. A pandemonium of Marinettes. Perfect.”

Marinette started to laugh, but suddenly a shadow passed over Alya’s face. “And that means you must have gotten caught in Chloé’s trap just like us. Papillon might be after you too. And since Ladybug’s recruits started with me… that’s means it’s my fault you’re in danger. I’m… I’m so sorry, Marinette, I know you don’t want anything to do with all this-”

“Your fault?” Marinette growled. Alya looked up, clearly astonished at her tone.

“Your fault, that Ladybug trusted you? Your fault, that she believed in you with every bit of her heart? Your fault, that she still does, even if she can’t give you the Fox anymore? Your fault, that she… that she messed up and put you and everyone else in danger? No, Alya. You were wonderful. And if she ever says or implies otherwise, I’ll punch her lights out.”

Alya had started crying, but that last comment dragged a rather wet chuckle out of her. “You really would, wouldn’t you? Please don’t. I’m not mad at her.”

Marinette choked on a sob. “You’re not?”

“Girl, of course not. There’s nothing Ladybug could do that wouldn’t have me still wanting her to pin me to a wall and kiss me senseless.”

This time, Marinette choked for a completely different reason. “What?”

Alya looked at her, puzzled, tears stopping abruptly. “Marinette. I’m been talking about my crush on Ladybug literally since the day we met. Are you telling me that you missed this?”

“Er…”

“Oh my god. Marinette, Nino and I have talked about how he wants to date Chat and I want to date Ladybug in front of you. I’ve called myself a bi disaster and called Ladybug the most perfect girl to ever exist in the same sentence. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I…”

Alya put her head in her hands. Around them, she mumbled, “You and Mr. ‘Just A Friend’ really are made for each other, aren’t you.”

Suddenly, Marinette found she could speak again. “I don’t know about that…”

That got a reaction out of Alya, and her head snapped back up. “What?”

“Nothing,” Marinette deflected.

“No, hold up, it sounded like-”

“Later, Alya. Please?” She needed more time to figure out what she was going to say. How was she even going to begin to explain any of this? She knew now that Alya (and Nino, who she felt guilty for not immediately thinking of minutes earlier) would be okay with the basic concept, but it was still so much. There was no rush. Not for this.

“Fine,” Alya said with a huff. “But let your wingwoman know if she needs to switch targets, okay?”

Marinette was, for a moment, overwhelmingly tempted to point Alya at the mirror in her room. But she quelled the urge and simply nodded before leaning on her friend’s shoulder. She closed her eyes.

She didn’t open them when Alya spoke some minutes later. “So how did you know I was Rena? I thought the identity magic was pretty strong.”

Yet again, Tikki nudged her. I know, I know, Marinette groaned internally. Even now, she couldn’t just up and reveal herself. But it wouldn’t hurt Alya to hear what she was going to say. “I guess not strong enough, if you know someone as well as I know you.”

She felt Alya nod. “Makes sense.”

“…Why did you think it was your fault? Putting me and the others in danger, I mean.”

“Well, Ladybug chose them because of me, didn’t she? I said as much. She started with the civilian who was most dedicated to her, and started working through her friend group from there. Never had the heart to tell her that it probably wasn’t the best tactical decision. Maybe I should have. What?”

Marinette had opened her eyes and lifted her head in one sudden movement, and was now staring at Alya. “You… know who the others are? Besides Nino, I mean.” Then she blinked and slapped a hand over her mouth. She thought she heard Tikki squeak in alarm.

Thankfully, Alya just glanced at her nonchalantly. “Thought you’d figured him out too. And don’t worry, I won’t tell Ladybug about you spilling. Not that it matters anymore.” She sighed. “I figured out Carapace instantly. And uh, I don’t know if you know, so I don’t want to get too specific, but. I also got Pegasus and Roi Singe. Not Ryuuko or Viperion though. Haven’t seen enough of them, I guess. Anyway, I think it’s partially a Fox thing, if I trust what Trixx said, and partially because… well, again, don’t want to get too specific. It just clicked.”

There would be words with Trixx later. From both her and Tikki. But now, Marinette just felt bad that she couldn’t tell Alya that no, it wasn’t because she was the Ladyblogger that she’d been chosen. It was because she was Alya. She settled for, “You were amazing, as Rena. I felt a lot safer when you were out there.”

“Aww.” Alya pulled her into a hug. “Thanks, girl. I really wish… I wish we could have been heroes together. Even just once. I wanted to share it with everyone special to me, and I thought I’d get the chance. Paris from the rooftops at night… it’s really something.”

“Alya, I have a balcony.”

“You know what I mean.”

  That night, as she drifted off next to an already slumbering Alya, Marinette made herself a promise. No matter how long it took, no matter the obstacles between then and now, no matter what changed between them, Ladybug would run the rooftops with Rena Rouge again. More importantly, Marinette would run the rooftops with Alya.

It couldn’t be soon. That fact hurt, but Marinette accepted it and let it go. Papillon had to be dealt with first. This dream was years out. Maybe even decades, if they were unlucky. But it would happen.

Marinette slept, dreamless but at peace, with Alya at her side.

[subzerobts]

Thoughts on the Eighth Member of BTS

A/N: No pairings or warnings for this, except that it may throw you into a sudden 8th member fanfic spiral. When I tell you I was reading 8th member fanfic for the majority of my day, I mean like a good six hours. It wasn’t good.

Okay, so I feel like a lot of people have talked about an eighth member and it being a girl and stuff so I figure I should add some stuff to the ever growing cache of things about the eighth member.

This was like 2300 words and I have no regrets.

~So if there was I feel like she would be slightly younger than most of them and would have come in after their first few albums

~Maybe she was raised in New York with her immediate family being mostly Korean and hella feminist and she’d have older brothers and be super chill

~So like maybe the company would be worried about the lack of fast growing traction with the group and have a girl added in

~First things first: it would be awkward as heck for the guys to suddenly have a girl there and would make living situations even more difficult, with having to share rooms and such. So, they’d probs alternate who rooms with who and who gets the couch, especially for her rooming with a guy

~Not to mention if she catches them talking about some sort of issue with the sleeping situation and then being nervous about it

~Eventually, I feel like she’d kind of get tired of all of the tiptoeing around her and be like

~‘Guys! I don’t even care! Unless you guys have some sort of creepy thing you’re trying to avoid, just treat me like one of you guys’

~Things would chill out basically immediately. Like the next few days, the boys were super relaxed and that was a problem because they just started walking around in just underwear and she would be like:

👀😒 um ew?? Put a shirt on?

~They’d clean it up a lil bit and walk around in like boxers and t shirts, which was fine she had older brothers, she could deal with that

~She’d respectfully bow out of the choreographed hip thrusts and things of that nature at first, like maybe they’d thrust and she’d like make a gagging motion or something(only rarely because the company would be like no) at some point she’d get extremely comfortable with just doing the hip thrusts herself

~The company even found that during interactions with fans she got just as much, sometimes more, attention and screaming as the boys

~Eventually she’d get used to dressing androgynous, like the stylist unnies would put her in skirts and she’d get kinda pissed and the guys would all agree that she’d be better in just what they’re wearing(i.e. pants)

~(Also, just a quick side note, before they even realized what was happening, they’d be super protective. Like unwarranted protection.

~Especially during interviews and talk shows any heavily toxic feminine questions related to her would be met with complete headassery(is that a word?) Just any kind of bullshit the guys could come up with.

~Like it wouldn’t happen immediately, but like after a few interviews and them seeing how uncomfortable it made her to answer the weird questions(coming from female OR male interviewers) they’d kind of come up with an unspoken agreement to answer any and every sexist comment or question with an answer just as shitty)

~ Into specific dynamics now:

~I feel like she’d be evenly split to each other member’s interests because in the first few months, that’s how she bonded with them, busy finding somethings she had in common with each of them and building on it

[we’ll go youngest to oldest]

~She is close with all of the boys, but each get her undivided attention when the moment serves.

~ With Jungkook she’d notice his quiet side during the beginning and willingness to please. So she’d always assure him, in a not so obvious way, that he was accepted. Just quiet validation from her court to his.

~So she’d set up gaming nights with Jungkook when they didn’t have strict schedules or just sit around on their phones

~ The fandom would eventually come to know them as the meme lords of the group.

~Their inside jokes are way too many to count and don’t even come close to being forgotten.

~Can’t forget GCF cause she would be in every single one of them that she could. She’s endlessly supportive of the videos and wants to be in all of them, she even suggests music and things(sometimes before he’s even thinking of doing another one)

~She disapproves when he pushes himself too hard. When she knows it’s happening, she’ll involve on of the hyungs( probably Jin) or they’ll talk to a manager if things get super serious.

~That being said, if he doesn’t have the dance down, or they’re both struggling, she’s the first to volunteer to run the dance with him multiple times and is always the voice of reason.

~When he says ‘one more time’ she says ‘food first’ or like ‘how about a water chugging contest really quick?!’ (bc we all know his competitive nature) ‘Jin probably has some left overs in the fridge that we can reheat, late night snack time!’

~They definitely argue a bit about being the “Golden Maknae.” She’s a bit competitive in that aspect. Because they’re both so talented and she’s just a half of a year older than he is.

~For Taehyung, I feel like she’d grow to love art with him. His quiet adoration for things of beauty, conventional or not.

~(They have a joke,mostly his own that he refuses to let die, that she’s his favorite piece of artwork, eventually she retaliates with him being her favorite piece of artwork and it just sticks.)

~They’d be the classy duo, but with matching boxy smiles. Elegant and poised, their visuals are basically unmatched and during photo shoots, they’re always the ones finished way before the others.

~There are no bad sides for the classy duo. (I’m basically imagining model material for both of them, like just ethereal. Visual god and goddessssssss)

~Also his need to fall asleep holding something, I feel like she’d match that with just being okay with anything when she’s asleep or almost asleep(like she’d fall asleep in the car with the boys or something and be difficult to wake up, so they’d just carry her and she wouldn’t even stir)

~So Tae would lay beside her and they’d be chilling and eventually fall asleep and then later wake up holding onto each other.

~Both of them are shameless damn flirts. They’re attractive and they know it and they will absolutely use it to (not literally) kill ARMY

~Jimin is a bit harder to think about(idek why) but I feel like she’d be his buddy in quiet studying. Like he’d come find her if he wanted to do some reading, but not be alone and she’d be totally down( same with Joon but hold on)

~and either she’d read her own book or she’d do some sketching(mostly because she’d want to have her own unique thing that the others weren’t too interested in)

~Jimin would be her ideal model in these moments. She never gets tired of sketching any of the boys, but in those moments, Jimin is the least likely to change face or position and thus be the perfect study.

~she’d also ask him for homework help in the earlier days with like mathematics and he’d always be more than happy to help

~Jimin is a brat and I feel like when the two of them spend a bit too much time together, the rest of the group can only expect the worst.

~(Low key the Lil-Shit Duo™️)

~Joon is next and here’s where her position in the group comes in. Since she was raised in New York, she’d be fluent in both Korean and English and, as such, would help with the interviews and translating.

~It’s a huge load for Namjoon to carry and with her, being by his side and helping with rephrasing things to the boys during interviews really eases him.

~Along with that, he always makes sure that she knows how much he appreciates her after difficult interviews or just every good while he’s just endlessly doting and complimenting her and things. She always tells him that it’s unnecessary, but he never stops thanking her.

~So they’re like the Leader Duo™️ and are consistently doing damage control between the boys(almost like group therapy) or rephrasing the boys’ answers(in those moments where the boys give weird answers to questions in interviews)

~When not in the public eye, they are coming up with ways to better interact with ARMY or they’re expanding their horizons by reading and stuff.

~Her favorite thing with Joon is working on learning a new language or just English with Joon and making up little tongue twisters and sayings and debating proper ways to phrase things. Which brings us to:

~Being a part of the rapline. So Joon, Hobi, and Yoongi are her peeps. When she’s not entertaining the maknae line, she’s with the Hyung line.

~Hobi and her have a cute dynamic. He babies her a little bit and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love it at least a little.

~they like coming up with dances together, even when they are supposed to be taking the day off, just goofing around and coming up with dances for little snippets of songs is fun

~they’re like the sunshines of the group. So he’s J-hope and she’s his ‘little hope’. How cute.

~She’s constantly encouraging his little quirks and things that he does(the sound effects and just being him) and being right there with him in being the lights of the group.

~I feel like her and Jungkook get the same bit of his attention. Like the cuddly bits of it

(and my heart skips for cuddly JungHope so like imagining the three of them being cozy and mellow together and just watching the rest of the group do whatever. Agh my heart)

~My boy Yoongles is next and let me tell you I’ve been excited as hell for this one.(trying real hard not to let bias love seep through)

~When moving to a more spacious apartment, they decided to give her her own room. (She’s grateful.)

~And so when she wants to tamp down the wildness in the apartment, get a moment's peace, she retreats to her room.

~While she’s endlessly supportive of all six of the others, encouraging their wild quirks, her room is the quietest. Her room has a ‘no noise’ rule.

~Yoongi shares a room with Jin still at this point and not that Jin is a bad roommate, or particularly noisy, it’s just that the maknae line patronizes him a lot. And Yoongi has very little patience for that.

~So her room is where they’ll often find him. She has a comfy couch that she took Yoongi with to pick it out(because it was basically for him.)

~Point is, she’s mellow when she wants and needs to be and Yoongi is drawn to that chill side of her.

~When the rest are wild and he wants mellowness, he seeks her out and when she wants to be a bit rowdy, she leaves and closes the door.

~He has a gigantic soft spot for her. Not even kidding.

~The boys will always pull her into the situation if they think Yoongi might get too angry or a prank goes south and does more harm than fun amusement.

~They mention that she was involved and she goes with it because she doesn’t want the boys in too much trouble and Yoongi won’t hurt her like he would the boys(not actually hurt but you know like “beat them up”) or scold her too harshly.

~As soon as he finds out she’s involved the anger either dissipates or he removes himself from the situation so as not to hurt anything(but you bet your ass she scolds the maknaes from time to time on Yoongi’s behalf)

~And he definitely helps with her mixtape which the fandom is waiting for. Basically, chomping at the bit. She gives Yoongi and Joon so much credit tbh

~They definitely nap together. Mostly because they’re up at ungodly hours during the night, either working on songs or just talking because that’s definitely a thing that happens.

~They have similar views of the world(I’m mostly thinking of Interlude: Shadow here) but being lonely while being famous is definitely a view they share and are drawn together from that. Despite all of their wants to be on the top of the world, they want to not be lonely.

~Along with her keeping up well with the rowdy bits of the group, she’s definitely introverted like Yoongi. She does what she has to to further the group, but she does get drained and just kind of shuts everyone out some times.

~This is where Jin comes in. (Not to be that cliché bitch who’s always like Jin’s the mom of the group omg) but in this case, he makes sure she’s eating and taking care of herself when she does this.

~They all have locks on their doors and she keeps hers locked a majority of the time, but Jin and Yoongi are the only people she absolutely trusts with coming in unannounced.

~Despite always laughing at his dad jokes and being totally supportive of that, he knows when to turn on being serious and not taking her bullshit about “being fine” if she’s not.

~He forces(more like needles annoyingly) her to eat even when she says she’s not hungry during those times

~Makes sure she’s taking care of herself like showering and brushing her teeth and things.

~During the earlier years when she mostly stayed with the boys, very little contact to her mother in New York, Jin absolutely made sure he had cramp medication on hand and feminine products stashed in spots around the house. Well hidden obvi so the boys wouldn’t just stumble across them, but still there. (She does these things on her own now, but she’ll never forget the thought he put into making sure she was cared for)

~She’s definitely requested a majority of the time on EatJin. ARMY just likes to make sure that she’s eating(just like all of them) and they want to see the two of them talk.

~All in all, the boys are her family and she wouldn’t trade them for the world.

[editorialsonlife]

hello tumblr world its been a while since there’s been a proper update here so prepare for a dump and a half my friends because the last few weeks have been a fun trip (and that’s not even including the bloody US elections OMG)

we went to hawkes bay, so that was a good time. NOT. we turned up late because we slept in which was a great time. and also very fortuante because we arrived and no one came out to say hello which is terrible weird. So we start unloading the car and walking to the door and paul eventually emerged and was like, oh your mother’s just taking a nap we’re a bit tired. we only got home from the hospital an hour ago’. alaring for several reasons. 

the last couple of times this has happened, dave’s grandma died, his grandfather died, paul was in hospital for a suspected heart attack, paul had a heart attack & was flown to wellington for emergency surgery. let alone all the other family dramas in the intervening times. 

so it turns out that she threw her back out badly, fell over, and ended up in hospital when they couldn’t get on top of the pain with their sizable drug haul (pharmacist families man). didn’t think to text or call or give us a heads up in any way. when I asked why they wouldn’t text the response was, and I quote “Well she wasn’t dying so we didn’t think it was important’. like, fucking wow bitches. 

She couldn’t move without crying and groaning like she was in labour, she couldn’t move without a walker, she was on morphine, coedine, steroids and antiinflammatories, and still fucking miserable. 

poor dave was so stressed out. it was actually just a fucking horrible weekend. a) seeing another human in that much pain who utterly refused to do anything about it and still is

b) not being told the full story about whats going on, although I did read her medical discharge notes when they were both asleep 

c) seeing poor fucking dave stressed to shit because who the fuck knows whats going on and that’s his mum hes watching in so much pain. 

it was fucking horrible. never again. and walking into it with no warning was just the shittest thing of all. 

I was so fucking angry when we got home. like, ridiculous. I’m still raging tbh. guess who’s place we’re not going to for christmas?? 

So that was our five days of leave, and our holiday, once again shat all over (at least it wasn’t covid this time?!?)

got home on monday evening and went to send an email to work to be like hey homies not showing up tomorrow, need a day to recover to find out I had a client meeting at 830 the next morning I had to attend which was so  hard to get through. here, let’s pitch for 80k of work which isn’t going to solve any of your problems? why not. it makes me so mad. SO MAD. 

rolled through that and our team meeting and a colleague was like how are you doing? just about burst into tears so I peaced out of there. turned up to counselling on thursday, didnt even make it into the room and anne was like, you seem angry? I was like, mmmmm no, don’t think angry quite covers it mate. so that was great. 

got to last weekend, was meant to be meeting friends for brunch but there was a massive crash on the motorway so we ended up driving somewhere else which was an hour each way so that basically ruined the day but it was a lovely brunch anyway, had a great time. best smashed avo and lots of cuddles with little miss izz who is not so little anymore but so gorgeous!! Had a great day on sunday, finished off a bunch of work (yes, work is insanely busy right now, such fun, will be working again this weeked), got heaps of planting done, mowed the lawns, hung my artwork, finally felt like I was back on a happy even keel (fuck life is nice not having permanent anxiety) only to be sitting in a meeting on monday afternoon to find out homegrown is on the same day as our wedding. the second wedding since the first one was cancelled. 

I pretty much just lost my shit. honestly. why is it so fucking hard to just organise something to celebrate being married. legit feel like the universe is just fucking with us at the moment and like, did we even make the right decision doing all of this? because every time we try and do something it gets fucked over and its v stressful. and yes i know we’re lucky to be covid free and be able to plan these safely and everything else but like, honestly. I’m so over it. every holiday this year has been fucked over, the wedding was done, the family reaction was so shit, like, its just ridiculous. the worst part was I came home in rage mode and dave came home in problem solving mode and was like, we can fix this and like, yeah, i know we can, but like, I’m fucking sick of making do. It’s meant to be one of the best days of our lives, and we’re already onto plan fucking c for it, and just like, I’m done with it? I’m just done. I cannot be assed. I don’t want to email everyone, I don’t want to reschedule all this shit, I don’t want to reorganise all my hair appointments, I don’t want to have to worry about the weather and rebooking it all and dealing with all this fucking shit. I’m so done. I’ve done it twice already I don’t want to do it again. RAGE. anyway. survived monday night, the week did not get any better, work got worse, and the PMS hit fucking hard yesterday. cried before work, cried at the stupid 8am meeting, cried turning up to anne and was like, I have an hour to get this all out of my system before client meetings in the afternoon. 

and hot damn, god bless best friends, because bish messaged me and was like, lets do lunch homie, so we went to the botanic gardens and sat there and had the most insane conveersation ranking the best flavours of shapes, then biscuits, then crackers. and honestly, it was the pointless, best, most lighthearted discussion and everything I needed and I love her so much. 

all I can say now is thank fucking god it’s friday, and its the weekend, and we have zero plans beyond going to mitre 10. I’m gunna order all my christmas presents online this weekend adn get that out of the way. need to do a couple of laods of washing, hopefully only like 6 hours of work, but like, it’s gunna be chill. and I’m v relieved. 

she’s been a bit of a nightmare. 

HOWEVER

despite all this complaining, looking back on where I was a year ago, like fuck me i am in so much of a better place mentally and life is just so much better. I’m so relieved. and period binge aside, physically I’m getting better too so I’m gunna take it all as a massive win. week in adn week out its been a grind, and it’s been uncomfortable and hard and horrible at times but man, coming out the other side is such a relief. having capacity to do things like supporting a friend through her current nightmare and managing dave and dealing with all the work stress makes such a fucking difference honestly. it’s also nice to feel like I can manage myself better so I can look after everyone else better too. 

Feeling v grateful for this little life of mine, and the people in it, and for being in this little corner of the world. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I am so so so so so grateful for it. 

[nekojitachan]

okay, so I posted last week (?) about an AFTG fic idea based on an old movie.

this isn’t it - blame/thank this on @sig66, as we began talking about classic movies and this one came up as a possibility for an AFTG fic, and I’ve been working on it and backstories ever since (think I’ll save the other one for either a possible big bang or a ‘proper’ fic).

Anyway, thank @sig66 for this - no idea of when I’ll be updating this, but for now, it’s a tumblr story and I’ll TRY to get it updated inbetween ‘proper’ fic updates (so maybe every other week, possibly sooner?). I’ve a lot of backstory for this, so while the movie is the backbone of the fic, expect it to expand from it (if you’re at all familiar with the film).

As for this first part, it really just sets things up.

Only trigger warnings should be for Neil’s past in Baltimore (and vague at that).

How to Steal a (lot of) Million(s) Part 1/? *******

Nathaniel sat hunched over in one of the waiting room’s plastic chair, desperate to quiet, to be still, to not draw any attention to himself like his mother had taught him. Each time the elderly woman behind the desk looked his way to give him a reassuring smile or someone came into the room he nearly flinched before he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to react, that reacting was bad. The bruises and neatly stitched cuts hidden beneath his black pants and black, green and white plaid sweater reminded him of just how bad it could be to show any negative emotions.

It just… it was so hard when his mother wasn’t there to shield him from the worst of the curious looks, to give his arm a warning squeeze and whisper ‘Abram’ in his ear to remind him when he got out of line. Normally he was with her back with the doctor, was the reason for their visit (‘a fall down the stairs’, ‘a fight with another boy’, ‘an accident in the kitchen’), but for some reason she’d gone there alone.

What had she done to upset his father so much?

He shoved that thought aside as quickly as he could.

Fortunately, it was just another few minutes before she came out through the one door, her face set in a blank expression which made him clamor onto his feet in an instant and stand up straight while some middle-aged man in a white coat continued to talk to her in a hushed voice. She brushed him off as she motioned Nathanial to the door leading out of the doctor’s office, which he scrambled toward without seeming to rush (he’d learned how to do that in the last year or so).

She didn’t speak until they were out in the blue sedan which she hated for some reason. “It’s all right,” she told him once they were on the highway which would take them back to the house. “Your father knows where we were today, I told him it was a regular check-up.” She motioned to her purse while she spoke. “That I needed a new script.”

Nathaniel didn’t quite understand what she meant by the last part but nodded along; what mattered was that he didn’t have to lie about where they were after his mother had picked him up from school. “All right.”

It was quiet for another couple of minutes. “I want you to pack a few of your clothes in a small bag, just some random ones. Not many, only what you’d need for a couple of days. Then put that bag in the back of your closet. Can you do that, Abram?” she asked without looking at him.

Long used to his mother asking things of him without any explanation, Nathaniel nodded. “Yes, Mum.”

“Good boy. Now, let’s review your latest French lesson.” They spent the rest of the drive back to the house going over various verb tenses until he almost felt at peace, until the anxiety was almost gone (but it was never truly gone, not when they always went back to that place, when Father or Lola or Patrick would be waiting for them).

He put her request out of mind once he’d done what she’d asked, aware of the risk he faced if his father caught him (pain until he answered, pain for not giving any good explanations, pain and pain and pain), and life went on as ‘normal’ in his father’s house (pain).  All Nathaniel wanted was to get through the day without setting off the man, without being a disappointment somehow, with not having to go into the basement to learn cruel lessons, to take up knives or have the blades turned on him.

The only true thing he knew about life was that it was filled with disappointment and pain.

Then about a week after the doctor’s appointment, his mother woke him in the middle of the night, told him to be quiet and to grab the bag he’d prepared, then snuck him out of the house while everyone else either slept or were gone (inflicting that pain on others). He thought it was some sort of fever dream (aftermath of the latest cuts inflicted upon him earlier that day), especially when they ended up at the local airport with two first class tickets to fly to London that night.

Especially when his mother, thrumming with an energy he’d never seen in her before, dragged him (exhausted from being awake so long and expecting his father to appear any moment) from the airport and into the crowded metropolis to some stone-faced building (one in a row of them) and pounded on the door until a man only a few inches taller than her and maybe a little older with dark blond hair (tousled as if he’d just gotten out of bed despite the lateness of the afternoon) and similar grey eyes opened the door to stare at them as if they were ghosts.

“Mary? Bugger me… Mary?” he gasped out as he slumped against the door as if in shock. “And… Nathaniel?”

“Abram,” she snapped as she dropped the bag in her left hand onto the ground. “I don’t want to hear that name again. Now are you going to let us in? We’re knackered, you daft fool.”

“You… bugger me,” the man repeated as he rubbed at his eyes as if he was tired (or seeing things). “Okay, come on in,” he mumbled as he stepped back.

“That’s your Uncle Stuart,” Nathaniel’s mother informed him as they entered the house. “You can trust him.”

If Mary told him he could… Nathaniel gave the man (currently muttering about needing some damn coffee) a shy look as he pressed against his mother’s side, still not convinced that all of this wasn’t one crazy dream – running away from his father to his mother’s family, to possibly finding a safe haven. Yet the man (his uncle) gave him a kind smile and asked if he wanted some biscuits and tea.

Nathaniel (Abram) knew it was reality when his mother died of advanced ovarian cancer less than a year later.

*******

“Sold for $190,000 to the gentleman in front of me. Thank you very much, sir,” the auctioneer called out in English, though still bearing a thick French accent. “Now up next, ladies and gentlemen, is item number thirty-four per the catalog, and we’re accepting bids from New York, London and Hong Kong both online and via telephone as well as in person. This great Cezanne painting is from the world famous Josten collection, sold by order of the present head of the Josten family, Monsieur Stuart Josten.” He gestured to an elegant figure standing toward the back of the room and next to the wall as if trying to avoid attention, dressed in a simple tuxedo. The man gave a nervous smile and a slight bow while people applauded, and one even shook his hand.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, who will start the bidding on this superb post-impressionist masterpiece at $200,000?” the auctioneer called out as he stood in front of the painting of a woman in a red dress. The bidding commenced and immediately rose to $500,000 while ‘Stuart Josten’ watched on in delight.

*******

Neil tore through Paris in the supped-up MG Midget that Matt had gifted him a couple of years ago, on his way to the latest home he shared with his uncle after hearing the news about Stuart’s recent bout of… of… idiocy. Okay, so maybe the Hatfords weren’t exactly on the up and up….

Okay, so the Hatfords were so fucking far away from the up and up. Did Stuart really have to set a stupid record with the sale of his latest little ‘project’? Really?

Neil nearly rammed the car into the ornate stonework in front of the small, old mansion before he put the car into park and jumped out, then ran up the steps into the house. Davis was there to take his cap and bomber jacket, and to inform him that Stuart was indeed home and upstairs.

“Thanks,” Neil told his uncle’s assistant, well aware that the man didn’t have to rat out his boss like that, and caught the wink sent his way; Davis knew that someone was about to catch an earful right then.

He went up the curved staircase and into the one sitting room, where after making sure that no one was around (old habits died hard), he climbed into the ‘special’ wardrobe; once inside, he slid back the false panels so he could access the secret room behind them.

The spiral staircase in the hidden room led him up to the studio where his uncle worked on his forgeries, a large space filled with artworks in progress and various pieces which inspired them – statues and all sorts of paintings. Once again, Neil was amazed at his uncle’s talent, and a bit chagrined that Stuart focused it on reproducing existing works of art.

“Hello, brat,” Stuart called out to him from where he sat behind an easel, dressed in an old smock over his clothes and paint smeared over his left cheek.

“Hello, Stu,” Neil responded as he came over to give the man who’d raised him ever since he was ten years old a hug.

“Be careful,” Stuart chided with affection even as he gently hugged Neil in return. “I’m covered with paint.”

“When aren’t you? And you’re also covered with money,” Neil shot back. “Allison told me about the auction when I stopped by.”

“Ah yes, the Cezanne.” Stuart grinned with pride as he leaned back. “I could have sold a dozen of them at that auction! But one was enough.”

“One is more than enough!” Neil gritted out as he tried not to grow angry with the man. “I thought we talked about this! It’s getting too risky these-“

“Ah, ah, not now, I’m busy,” Stuart told him as he shooed Neil out of the way of his laptop screen, where he had a close-up of the Van Gogh painting he was currently reproducing. “How nice of him to only use his first name like that, makes it so much easier.”

“Not again!” Neil felt the urge to grab something and throw it, but refused to give in to his temper like that because… because of reasons. “It’s too soon!”

Stuart gave him a patronizing look as he began to wipe clean his brushes. “Don’t worry, this one won’t be sold for a long, long time. We’ll hang it up, let people look at it and appreciate it, and who knows, maybe some legendary, asshole tycoon will be able to persuade me to part with it if the price is right.”

Despite himself, Neil had to smile as he helped Stuart with the brushes. “You’re such a scoundrel.”

“Thank you, you little brat.” Stuart smiled back and swiped a (clean, thankfully) brush along the tip of Neil’s nose. Then he blanched as Neil nearly tipped over the plate containing specks of dirt. “Be careful! That’s my Van Gogh dirt,” he explained as he hurried to pick it up and place it in the one cupboard where he kept his more precious supplies, like the pigments he used in his forgeries. “That’s the dirt from his neighborhood, it took some effort to collect it. What I don’t go through to make these things as authentic as possible,” he complained as he stored it away. “Doubt Van Gogh did as much.”

“He didn’t have to, he was Van Gogh,” Neil snarked as he plopped down in a spare chair. “Sort of the point of it, no?”

“Yeah, kiddo, but in his lifetime, he only sold one painting, and I’ve already sold two as him,” Stuart shot back.

Neil felt a headache coming on and wished that he’d stopped to put on a pot of tea first. “You do know that selling someone else’s painting’s a crime, right? And they have all this lovely technology now to figure out that your stuff is a fake?”

Stuart scoffed as he continued to clean the brushes. “But I only sell the stuff to rich people, and they’re too stuck-up to admit that they might have been fooled into buying fakes. Know your audience, brat, rule number one.” He threw an old rag at Neil, who rolled his eyes at the familiar saying. “And don’t throw any stones, after half the shit you’ve pulled.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, and I-“ Neil frowned at the sound of sirens outside of the house, which only grew louder as if they were approaching the place. He got up from the chair to go look out the nearest window, and blanched when he saw several police cars pull into the house’s driveway. “Fuck, the police are here!”

“What?” Stuart rushed over to his side so he could look out as well, then let out a harsh breath. “Don’t scare me like that, kiddo, it’s just the director of the Kleber-Lafayette Museum, here about the Cellini Venus.”

“Eh?” For a moment, those words didn’t make any sense – why wasn’t Stuart worried? Since when didn’t the Hatfords have anything to fear from the police showing up in force (sure, some were paid off, mostly in the UK, but…)? Then he remembered about the damn statue and groaned. “That thing? What about it?”

“The Cellini Venus is to be the outstanding feature of a great loan exhibition – the masterpieces of French Collection,” Stuart informed him with pride as he scrubbed his hands free of paint.

Screw tea, Neil was willing to start drinking alcohol right about now. “Not in public,” Neil all but wailed as he thought about the damn forgery, a piece of ‘pride’ in the family. “It’s not really French,” he hissed. “We’re not French!”

“They don’t know that,” Stuart told him with a wry grin as he pulled on a dress coat as if to make himself presentable. “Come now, we can’t leave them waiting.”

“Not in public,” Neil repeated as he hurried after his uncle and caught him in time to wipe away the smudge of paint on his left cheek, certain that Davis would stall the people downstairs; he was grateful that he’d stopped by Allison’s earlier and let her (well, couldn’t stop her, really) dress him in something ‘acceptable’. He straightened the collar of his Maison Kitsune shirt and made sure it was tucked into the Amiri jeans his friend wouldn’t let him leave until he put on.

Sometimes he thought that his family’s enforcers could learn a thing or two about intimidation from the woman.

“I’ll be down in a minute, Monsieur Aldritch,” Stuart called out while he motioned to Neil to make sure that the wardrobe was properly closed up, still busy fussing with his own outfit as he did his best to look like ‘Stuart Josten’, eccentric art collector and not Stuart Hatford, member of one of Europe’s most infamous crime families.

“No hurry, Monsieur Josten,” some man called back in return as Neil and his uncle made their way down the stairs; Neil did his best to remain calm in the face of so many armed officers being inside his home while Stuart gave them a friendly smile; it helped that Davis stood off to the side, doing a perfect impression of an unremarkable butler and not someone who could kill them all in under a minute.

Aldritch and Stuart exchanged greetings while Neil did his best not to glare figurative daggers at the back of his uncle’s head over him being so foolish as to loan out a fake which had been a family ‘heirloom’ and joke for years. Somehow he summoned a smile when he was introduced to the museum’s director, and had to bite his tongue when the man thanked his uncle for keeping such a priceless treasure in France like a ‘true’ Frenchman (if he only knew the truth).

Personally, Neil didn’t see what the fuss was about the damn statue, which looked just like any other Venus statue in his mind, though supposedly his grandfather had done a remarkable job with the forgery (and was the reason why Stuart preferred that particular crime to the rest of the ‘family business’). It had passed various inspections in the past… but Neil lived in fear of technology catching up to his uncle one day, and including the Cellini Venus in a big art exhibit just might be what attracted the wrong attention.

He attempted to ‘help’ Aldritch and the man’s assistants load the marble statue into its padded travel case, but Stuart knew him a little too well and pulled him away before he could use the statue’s heavy marble base to ‘accidentally’ break the ‘precious’ artwork and so prevent it from being used in the collection. “Behave, brat,” Stuart whispered in Spanish as the case was locked and carefully picked up.

“This is a mistake,” Neil warned, but it was too late at that point to do anything to stop it as the statue was being carried away.

Once they were gone and Davis offered to put on some tea, Neil gave in to the urge to glare at his uncle. “What the hell have you done?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Stuart gestured to the empty alcove where the statue had rested until a couple of minutes ago. “I did a bloke a solid, I did. They needed something special for that collection they’re putting together, and now your grandfather’s-“

“A fake, you gave them a fake piece of art,” Neil reminded the fool as he ran his hands through his hair, which Allison had done her best to tame earlier. “A piece of marble, which they can use all these nice little bits of machines to scan and run tests on it.”

Stuart scoffed as he undid the buttons to his black dinner jacket and sat down in an antique chair. “They won’t do that to something I loaned out and risk damaging it, which is why I agreed to add it to the collection. Do you know how many offers I’ve had for the damn thing? Even one recently,” he confessed with a slightly pained look, “but I never accept because I won’t risk it.”

“Yet you’re fine with thousands of people gawking at the thing,” Neil mumbled as he sank down on a velvet-covered duvet and took to rubbing his temples in an effort to stave off a headache.

“Hundreds of thousands,” Stuart corrected him, and laughed when Neil groaned. “Don’t you see that I’m proud of it, kiddo? Your grandfather spent months on that thing while your gram posed for him. It’s not just some old piece of marble a barely known Italian banged out, but a family heirloom.”

A family heirloom that was going to get Stuart locked up, and possibly Neil as an accessory (well, more than that when he had to break his uncle out of prison).

Somehow, he had a feeling that he’d be rounding up the gang soon to help them out of a huge mess.

He should have gone off with Henry and Jamie to help them with their ‘little Russian problem’, dammit, no matter how much he hated vodka.

*******

Thanks for like the five people who read this. As stated, updates are whenever. Next part should have Andrew and Kevin and more of the Foxes (lots of backstories there).

[lancetuckershairgel]

Summary: Chris and Lucy are reunited.

Words: 1,977

Warnings: Stealing, language, emotions, slight mention of former drug use

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Tag List: @book-dragon-13 @jobean12-blog @marvelgirl7 @southernbell91 @buckysforeverprincess @anxiousamandapanda @buckysteveloki-me @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety

AN: Cant do a read more. Also it was brought to my attention that several people didnt get notifications for Chaoter Four that was posted early last week so if you get the notification on this one let me know.

Chris climbed into his truck with a groan, his back stiff and head mildly aching. He rested his head back against the headrest of his seat and closed his eyes, no longer having to rush anywhere. The day had been long and he thanked God that it was Friday. Chris had taught three safety courses to the different fifth grade classes and had two meetings with disgruntled parents about a bullying situation and then he went straight to the college after work. School greeted him with an essay presentation, which he hated, and two exams that he really should have prepared better for. 

Chris rubbed his weary eyes and ran his hand over his beard before finally sitting straight and turning on the ignition. The red Ford came to life with a grumble and he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. Normally he would have gone straight home after class, especially with how tired he was, but not only was it a Friday night it was also a three day weekend and he was looking forward to an extended weekend and day off.  

"You can't take care of others if you others take care of yourself." Chris' psychology professor would say at the end of every lecture.

"You need a break Chris, you always put too much on yourself." Erin often told him during one of their phone conversations or occasional meet ups at the bar. 

"Yolo." 

Chris never quite understood that one but the teens at the middle school seemed to use it as a personal mantra. After driving for a few miles he took a right and pulled into a gas station lot and parked. Reed's Gas Mart had been around for a long time. One of the oldest businesses in town, owned by a simple old man, had been around since 1958. The place had quite the reputation built around it. From the late fifties to the early eighties it was a place all the kids came to for an after school milkshake and a handful of candy and to listen to Jerry tale his stories. Unfortunately times changed and things became less simple. Teenagers still frequented the store but not for the shakes.  Early in Chris' career as a police officer he'd made a few drug busts in the parking lot but well before that he himself had done a few things he wasn't proud of out back behind the dumpsters. Old man Jerry had caught Chris and a few buddies of his with a crack pipe once and chased them off with a broom, giving Chris a few good whacks across the back of the head all the while hollering about telling his mother. All had been forgiven though and Jerry was a good man, hard worker, and he wasn't going to let a few punk kids ruin his business. Chris gave a slight smile at the memories and entered the store, the ding of the bell overhead indicating that he had arrived. 

"Hey Jerry." Chris greeted the hunched over, white haired man 

"Hey Chris." 

Jerry's reply was short and he didn't look up at the off duty officer. His eyes were focused across the room, narrowed toward the candy aisle. 

"I got one. Just stuffed a chocolate bar in the back of 'er pants."

Chris rolled his eyes. Jerry used to love having kids come into his store, he'd even given Chris and his siblings free ice cream cones on the really hot summer cones when they were younger, but over time as Jerry aged and more and more people used his store as their personal sinning grounds the less excited the man became to see a youngster enter his store. He was always suspicious of anyone under the age of twenty five, convinced they were all up to no good. 

"I'll keep an eye out." Chris chuckled lightly as he walked over to a rack of snacks. 

Chris grabbed a bag of beef jerky and peered across the shelves at the suspected thief. To his dismay he indeed witnessed a crime. What was even more disheart was the fact that he recognized the beg being used to stuff merchandise inside. Blue, faded, torn. Rainbow pin and sharpie "artwork". Even with her hood pulled tight over her head, a classic move to avoid facial recognition on the security tapes, Chris knew that it was Lucy. He watched for a few seconds as she grabbed another item and quickly shoved it into her bag. 

"Come on kid, what are you doing?" Chris thought to himself

Lucy made her way to the back of the store, near the personal care items and Chris ducked down and watched through the large circular mirror on the wall as she stuffed another box into her backpack. He sighed and made his way to the counter. 

"You're right." Chris ssigh to Jerry with a sigh

"Goddamn kids." Jerry muttered under his breath

"Let me handle it, alright?" 

"Fine but I want her out of here and if I catch her anywhere near my store I'll give her the whooping she deserves, you hear me Christopher?" Jerry wagged his crooked finger in Chris' face

"You'll do no such thing old man." Chris rolled his eyes "Put that thing away and go back to  watching the game. I'll take care of this."

Lucy's head was down low as she quickly grabbed the items she had came for. Headphones were plugged into her ears and heavy metal played loudly to calm her nerves. her heart pounded in her chest as she rounded the corner to make her exit and she froze in her tracks. 

"Shit." She muttered when she saw Chris standing at the counter staring at her with disappointment, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"Hey Luce." Chris finally said after a prolonged stare down 

Chris could easily read body language thanks to his training in the academy. He knew how to spot suspicious behavior or signs of an abuse victim and he learned to read people by how their left eye twitched or how they shifted from foot to foot. Lucy may have looked defiant, shoulders back and head high, eyes glaring death rays in a dare to interfere with her mission but Chris could see behind that. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bookbag until her knuckles were white. Her bottom lip quivered slightly. Her pupils were wide and pleading. Lucy was scared. 

"Whatcha got there?" Chris took a step forward and relaxed his arms as he gestured toward her bag

"None of your business." Lucy snarled as she stared down Chris

"Come on, hand it over." Chris sighed. He Judy wanted to go home, get a nice buzz off a few beers, watch Game of Thrones, and go to bed. 

Lucy mentally walked herself through her options. Would she be able to get out the back door before Chris caught her? What if he called backup and her name ended up on a wanted list and cops showed up at the school? 

"I'm fucked." Lucy said to herself and decided to comply. Maybe Chris would go easy on her. 

Slowly she handed over the incriminating bag and Chris took it. He eyed Lucy disapprovingly  as he looked inside and her face blushed furiously with humiliation and anger as piece after piece of the stolen merchandise was pulled out and placed on the counter. A box of tampons, a box of bandaids, a few cans of soup, a roll of half used toilet paper, and a bottle of equally used hand soap lined the counter. Chris furrowed his brow as studied the items. 

"And the candy bar Missy." Jerry gruffed out with a glare

Chris glanced at Lucy and she hesitated. The chocolate was the one thing she was really hoping to get out with. Chris held out his hand impatiently and Lucy reached behind her back and pulled the Hershey bar out of her pocket. She slammed it into Chris' palm with such force that the pieces broke apart. With a sigh Chris put it on the counter with the other items. 

"What do you have to say for yourself girl? Stealing from a hardworking old man, none of you have any respect for your elders anymore! Need a good ass whoopin is what you need. Even stole from the bathroom." Jerry ranted and Lucy visibly cringed

"That's enough, Mr Reed." Chris interrupted 

"I want her dealt with Christopher. Arrest her."

Lucy tensed and Chris held up his hand 

"Just wait a minute Jerry. Look at what she's got here. This looks like necessary stuff, doesn't it? Luce? Is everything okay at home?"

"That's not your business." Lucy held back the tears, letting anger overcome the sadness 

"Is your dad not buying things you need?" 

"Stay out of it!" Lucy hissed through her teeth, shaking

"I can't help if you don't talk to me, kiddo." Chris tried "Lucy I ca-"

"You're not in charge anymore. You don't work for my school because you left." Lucy spit the word out like it left a bad taste in her mouth and she stepped closer to Chris "You're not even on duty, you can't do shit. What are you even wearing?" 

Chris looked down at his red plaid button up shirt and frowned. 

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing" Chris asked, slightly offended 

 The realization that Lucy had never seen him without of his uniform came too late. Lucy had snatched the Hershey bar and bolted, the door slamming shut behind her. 

"Lucy!" Chris shouted but there was no use. The girl was gone. Chris groaned and buried his face in his hands as he leaned against the counter. 

"She left the property. I'm calling the police." Jerry stated as he picked up the landline phone

"For christ sake old man it's a candy bar. Puts you back what? A buck twenty five?" Chris took the phone and put it back on the receiver and slammed a couple dollars on the counter "In fact…"

He walked back to the cooler to grab his sought after beer then grabbed a proper back of bathroom tissue and a bottle of soap. 

"How much for all of it?"

Jerry shook his head but began to ring up the groceries. 

"You keep coddling these kids, Christopher, and none of them will learn their lesson. It'll be $48.62. "

"No wonder people steal from you." Chris jokes as he ran his credit card through the machine. He knew Jerry couldn't control the inflation and prices of goods these days. The old man swatted at him but did crack a toothless grin. 

Chris bid farewell to Jerry and took the bags out to his truck. He placed them in the front seat and drove off, keeping an eye out for Lucy the whole way home. He had no idea where she lived and with it being a holiday weekend it'd be Tuesday before he could get Erin to get her address out of the file. 

"Hang in there kid." Chris muttered as he parked the truck in his driveway. 

Lucy ran until her lungs burned. Tears streamed down her face and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing. She shouldn't have to steal to provide for her family. She cursed herself for not telling Chris what was going on but she couldn't. He wouldn't help her, he'd just call the social services and they'd ruin everything. She caught her breath and wiped her eyes angrily before standing up and brushing the dirt off her jeans, cursing herself again for getting them dirty knowing it'd be a few days before she could wash them. She clutched the broken candy bar and made her way back home not ready to face the fact that she was going to turn up empty handed. 

[prettywordsyouleft]

Boyfriend! Kim Jaehwan

Thank you for requesting this @hyukwonz! It’s been awhile since I’ve done a Boyfriend scenario, so let’s hope I can do this one justice! Jaehwan is such an interesting character, so let’s find out how he’d be as a boyfriend.

Please note: his Different Kisses was also requested and will be posted tomorrow. They will directly tie into this scenario.

Confessing:

Like most things in life for Jaehwan, if he wants something, he’s going to do his very best to get it. He noticed you on campus at the start of the first semester, charmed by how you stood out from the rest. He had learned you were an art student, and whilst you seemed much more reserved than he was, you definitely knew who you were as an individual and that attracted him. But you were aloof in behaviour when he tried to approach you, giving him short answers and polite smiles before departing quickly.

It took him some effort to actually get you alone enough to ask you out on a date, and even when he did, well, you seemed to have a lot of excuses. He wondered if you just weren’t all that interested in him.

That wasn’t the case at all. Jaehwan steadily became the muse for all your art, secretly drawing him in your sketchbook over and over at night when you couldn’t get him off your mind. Sometimes he’d end up within your projects too; his hands or his eyes captured by your pencil only becoming obvious when you finished. He was a distraction. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to date him, you really did. But you had made a promise to yourself that for the first year at university there would be no boys. You wanted to establish good grades and friendships but nothing more. You didn’t even know where you would have the time to date either with how busy your schedule each day was. Frankly, you over-thought the situation and that’s why you became flustered whenever Jaehwan would approach you, wanting to run and hide in case you blurted out how much you thought of him in an embarrassing way.

By the second semester, he backed off though. You heard from friends that Jaehwan had really liked someone and they had turned him down after all attempts. It made you feel guilty but you managed to continue through, chanting that you were here to get good grades in art, not kissing. When you also heard Jaehwan was planning one last attempt and would give up after this, it made you strangely hopeful. For the next two days, you floated around campus in a daze, waiting to see what Jaehwan was going to do next. When nothing happened though, you filled with dread. What if they hadn’t meant you? You tried to keep your head down and focus on your semester project and not on foolish daydreams of you painting whilst Jaehwan played his guitar.

It was actually the sound of a guitar that attracted you to the court the next day. He was strumming his guitar outside the art building too eagerly and had garnered a small crowd, enjoying the free show. When you stepped into the circle and he spotted you, there was more than just the guitar sounds. The crowd gasped when he started to sing, his love confession strongly delivered through the song.

It was obvious it was for you with the way he stared at you as he said each word, smiling a little when the crowd encouraged him on. And on the final line of the song, he mentioned your name, asking if you would finally accept his heart.

Of course, you did. I mean, you couldn’t let such an amazing performance go to waste in front of everyone, right? But on a serious note, you had been so touched by the song that all resolve you had to ban yourself from dating was all forgotten then.

Starting out:

Once you got over the initial worry about dating Jaehwan, it was surprisingly very easy to grow comfortable around him and his playful nature.

Physical affection started almost from the beginning too and soon you were that college couple that everyone wanted to hate but couldn’t because they were too envious at how in love you both were.

Lots of cuddles and sweet moments occurred when you were together, but it was evident he had a really quirky and fun side to him right away too.

Although his loudness took a little to get used to when you’re a quiet person by nature, you enjoyed the vibrancy and colour he added to your world and the encouragement to break out of the structured lifestyle you maintained was exciting.

You were both different from each other, and sure, sometimes it meant you had to work to understand each other more, overall it made your relationship interesting and worth all the added learning on how to work together.

Dating pros:

Everything is always exciting and interesting with Jaehwan. He adds an element of anticipation to everything you do together just with how hyped up he often is. It keeps you on your toes and you like this about him.

He’s comfortable, you know that even when he’s joking around he’s only doing it to have fun with you. This has taught you to relax and allow yourself to be whatever you want to be around him without judgement.

His goal in life is to see you smile and be happy and he fulfils this every day he is with you. There is no way you’re not happy when he’s around. Even if you’ve had a really bad day, Jaehwan knows how to turn it around and have you smiling in no time.

He’ll do anything for you. He might whine as he does it or tease you incessantly, but he’s never going to let you down when you need him.

And on that note, he’s very much so a tease to you all the time. He loves hearing you whine and begging him to stop, it’s something that makes him feel fulfilled when he’s got your full attention like that. He finds you the cutest when he’s teasing you and often diffuses it with lots of kisses.

He’s the ideal romantic underneath all that joking he does, he is the proper wine, dine and cherish you kind of guy. I mean, he confessed with a freaking love song! He is well in touch with his emotions.

His laughter is so loud and piercing yet it’s addictive and makes your energy levels rise with it.

Jaehwan is dedicated. He works hard at any goal he wants to achieve, in a methodical and admirable way. He constantly challenges himself to be a better person and partner, and you’ve noticed yourself influenced by his mannerisms, striving for your own goals with better precision than before.

This means you’re a very productive couple who speak often about any problems that arise and have solutions for them promptly. Communication is a huge part of your relationship, both through playful and serious moods, and you can understand each other very well now.

He knows when to be extra, but more importantly, Jaehwan is able to tell when he needs to tone it down, which is such an attractive feature to him. Get yourself a man who can do it all.

He has an odd sense of humour and in the beginning you didn’t understand it completely, but now you live for all his dumb jokes and get excited when you can give him one back.

He’s very affectionate and showers you in physical and emotional attention which you give back in equal amounts too.

Will happily pose for you whenever you need him to for your artwork and openly offers to be your nude model teasingly (which he’s done from the start and was the cause of many of your earlier blushing sessions until things got intimate).

Likewise, you understand his music is very important to him, and you support him by listening to his compositions, and helping him fine tune anything that’s not quite right to you.

Ending this here, he has the voice of an angel. How are you not blessed whenever he sings to you? Lullabies, ballads, upbeat bops, he is always singing and serenading you.

Dating cons:

Even though you love his happy bursts of energy, some days you are too tired/stressed for his antics, and it irks you when he can’t take anything serious (even though he’s very capable at doing so). He’ll tone it down immediately when he notices your mood, but sometimes it’s a bit too late for you.

His laughter is amazing, but it’s also very loud. In fact, he’s just loud by nature. On days when you need to think, he’s not the first choice of person you choose to be around.

He sometimes pushes himself too hard when striving for his goals. He can easily get wound up and self-critical and whilst he has a great determination to get to the other side, he can often get so invested that his focus on you or your relationship can be pushed aside to cater for this greater need he has to improve/meet his deadline. Whilst you understand this as a fellow artist always striving for further realism and creativity from yourself, you wished he would sit back a little and enjoy the process, instead of rushing through.

Since becoming an idol, he’s naturally been a lot more invested with his work, and it was hard to deal with in the beginning since you started dating before his big break. You knew his determination would always make him succeed with his dreams but it was definitely hard on you both to adjust to his idol life.

He’s domestically challenged and very lazy. It’s ironic how lazy he is when it comes to how driven he is, but he prioritises things very differently from some people and being clean or doing chores is not something he puts high on his list. If you ask him to do something, he’ll try so A+ for effort, but his actual efforts aren’t worth praising and you’ve just naturally adapted to doing all the cooking and cleaning for proficiency.

When arguing, he’s petty and easily wound up which makes you defensive. Fighting can be loud and dramatic.

He’s clumsy, but so are the best kind of people in life (aka me). So you know to have the first aid kit well stocked and heaps of healing kisses on standby!    

Intimacy:

Jaehwan is a passionate lover and knows what he wants from his partner.

He’s always been very strong with his PDA from the beginning and to this day he showers you in his attention no matter where you both are. He’ll also expect it back, and whine if you don’t offer it up right away.

Forehead kisses and back hugs!!

Always touching you, no matter where you are, he has to have a hand on you at all times, a constant connection is important to him.

Loves days where all you do is snuggle up together and eat good food (cooked by you or take outs because you’ll never let him in the kitchen again after he almost burned it down that one time).

Because he’s naturally affectionate, kisses happen often and so does making out. You can read more about his kisses in the link in the reblog (coming soon).

Making out with Jaehwan is where things get easily worked up so you have a pretty active sex life.

He likes to be in control and hear you beg.

A needy lover, Jaehwan wants to make sure all his wants are met whilst meeting all yours as well.

Not so much of a slow and sensual guy but he can make that happen if you want it.

Prefers making love with you in a way that is loud and active. Definitely vocal in bed and knows how to have you singing out all night long, if you get what I mean.

Morning sex is his favourite and because he’s naturally a tease, he’ll often wake you up with his hands and lips as opposed to anything endearing and soft.

Long and arduous sex sessions are a must after being away from you for too long.

Aftercare is somewhat lazy but he has a way of looking at you as if you are a piece of artwork.

And to him, you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen so he’d definitely admire you in that satisfied glow you feel after sex and tell you just how much he loves you until you fall asleep together.

Dating Jaehwan is lively and full of the unexpected. Even from the start, you anticipated what he would do with you, and nothing has changed there. Although you know each other well, you know he’ll continue to keep you guessing for the rest of your lives and that’s part of the reason you love him so much. Even though you are complete opposites, you definitely attract endless love and excitement from each other.

____________________

I accept requests on other idols for the Boyfriend! series whenever my requests are open! To check to see if I’ve written your bias already, check the reblog or my bio for the Boyfriend! Masterlist and my Main Masterlist. 

[angelynrostrand]

Chapter 14

Summary:  To the outside world, nothing should connect shy girl Angel Monroe and popular boy Xavier Hazelwood. But that isn't entirely true. They both hold secrets. Behind both of them lie 2 separate wolf packs. Xavier is well on his way to Alpha status and running the pack. Angel is not a wolf but instead the last healer in the world. When the realization comes forward that they are connected by destiny, will they decide to fulfill it? Is their connection predetermined by fate or will they choose their hearts? Lives and packs cross and mingle while romance and conflict brews. The story of 2 opposite souls on a collision path. Will destiny win out? Even the most innocent face, has the darkest secrets.

Word Count: 2,282

https://poshinsta.com/user/grungeliex

I feel weighed down by something. I open my eyes to find myself in my cottage, but with Xavier. We slept in each other's arms. I lay over his chest, but still comfortable to sleep with an injured leg. His arm draped over me making sure I don’t fall over the small couch. I look around. The books are still out. We must have talked and talked for hours until we both fell asleep. My disconnection from his body causes him to also wake up.

In his morning voice, he says, “Well...good morning to me.” He smiles as he notices our position.

“Morning,” I say as I start to leave the couch.

“No, you are not going anywhere.” He pulls me back.

“Xavier we need to get up.” I try once again but he won’t let go.

“No, I almost lost you. I am never letting you go.” I let him win this round. This is for him and I let him have it after everything last night.

“Fine. 5 more minutes.” I agree. We both stay together in each other arms and I can feel him combing the top of my hair. I smile and accept his cute affection.

After telling him the truth we talked and he had a bunch of question like always. I let him read most of my healer books and anything he could get his hands on. It might be annoying for some people when others go through your things. For me, it was refreshing not having to lie in front of his face. He was like a kid. Curious about everything and wanted to learn more about me.

“You have 2 more minutes,” I say playfully.

“I definitely have 3 more minutes,” he fights back.

“I think you need to check your watch. It might be broken.”

“It’s working just fine. How’s your leg? Are you in any pain?” He asks. He adjusts our bodies so we are both sitting up. He places me in between his legs and holds me around my waist. His fingertips brush my leg to touch the scar.

His touch surprises me. We have never been so close like this before. I can’t speak, I am too lost in his brown eyes when I turn around to look up at him. I could only shake my head no.

“Good.” He leans down to kiss me just like last night. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am fine. I am mostly sore It still hurt when I try to walk on it.” His hand is still on my scar.

“What happened in the bathroom anyway? I just remember you were bleeding and Rebecca crying. I have to admit when I was waiting in the hospital, I went to get cleaned up, your blood was on me and I got sick.”

“Sick?” I place my own hand on top of his.

“I threw up.” He laughs to play it off cool but I can tell he is embarrassed. “I went into shock. I could feel my heart dying a little.”

“I’m sorry,” I announce. After explaining the same story I told my father, my brother, and the police, he watches my expression and he is just as shocked about Rebecca’s life. “Also I have bone to pick with you.” I get mad and distance myself from him.

“What did I do?” He becomes sad when I move to the opposite side of the couch.

“You told the police about when Becca hurt me the first time. My father and brother got really mad. It didn’t help for Becca’s case.”

“Wait. They didn’t know?”

“No. You outed me.”

“Sorry, but they needed to know and for Rebecca, she deserved it for hurting you. I mean she has always been a bitch especially towards you. I do feel bad about her situation, but she could have killed you. I am sorry.” He says as he tries to fix his mistake.

“I know, but please don’t tell anyone else my personal information especially my family. They don’t need to worry.”

“But Angel…”

“Xavier please,” I beg. He only nods and moves closer to me. Before he can though, there is a knock on my door. Eric walks in. “Eric!” Both Xavier and I stand up from his intrusion.

“What the hell is going on here? Why is he wearing my clothes?”

“Are you more worried about Xavier or the clothes?” I try to lighten the mood.

“My clothes of course. Just be glad I’m not father.” He casually sits down. I'm confused. Why isn’t he exploding or pushing Xavier out?

“Ya, thank goodness.” Xavier looks just as confused as I do.

“Did you just get here?” Eric asked.

“Ya.” I lie. If he knew Xavier stayed the night then he’ll really blow up.

Luckily, Xavier gets the memo and lies with me. “I just got here a couple of hours ago. We were talking since we didn’t finish last time.”

“Is there something you need?” I ask Eric.

“Yes, I need you.” He says and I raise my eyebrows. “Today you start your physical therapy with Trevor.”

“What time?”

“At 12, which is in an hour.”

“I should get going anyways. Do you want them?” He refers to the clothes. “I’m just going back in wolf form.”

“Yes please,” Eric answers before I can.

I roll my eyes. “Ya, just leave them outside.”

“I’ll call you.” Xavier exits out of the cottage and I can tell he wants to hug me goodbye or something, but my brother’s presence was hindering his intentions. That could have been worse, but I am grateful for my brother keeping his cool.

“Angel! What the hell? Why was he here?” Never mind he isn’t cool. He just pretended to appear cool and collected in front of Xavier

“I told you we were talking and he promises to keep my secret.” I whisper, “ Please don’t yell at me. You don’t like it when I do it to you so don’t do it to me.” I stand up for myself.

“You’re right. I am sorry.” He stands up. When he apologized it made him remember that he isn’t father. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell at you but he knows..?”

“He knows everything. I told him everything.” I finish his sentence.

“Come on we are going to be late.” He changes the subject. I am not sure if he is upset that I told Xavier everything, but it is not his choice. Of course, he did make a big fit about Xavier wearing his clothes and that it only took seconds for me to allow him in my cottage. Since I still fight father and Eric to stay out.

We both make our way to Trevor’s office and are welcomed by father’s appearance. All four of us sit inside Trevor’s office and he is giving us my recovery progress. I notice my father’s sleepy eyes and dark circles under his eyes. I hate that he works himself to the bone.

I refocus when Trevor says, “You’ll back to normal in a week only if you stay in bed for the rest of week. Understand. You almost tore your stitches. The more you rest the faster you recover. You are on bed rest for the remainder of the week.” I nod. I am slightly frightened by Trevors demanding a voice.

My father speaks first.“Thank you for everything, Dr. Shirley. Angel, I am serious you will be in your room for the rest of the week. Jesus will give you all your meals and he will be there if you need anything. I do not want you leaving your room.” Is this my father’s way ‘grounding’ me? For being with Xavier. Does know he stayed last night? “Eric make sure your sister does not escape her room while I am gone.”

“Wait where are you going?” He looks tired and almost sick. He shouldn’t be traveling.

“I have some business meetings in France. I’ll be back in 9 days or so. Sorry, I forgot to mention but you know the drill. Eric is in charge and now you must stay in the house.” He says,  reminding me all of the rules for when he travels.

He is not even going to help me back to recover. He just has others do it for him. “Why do you have to leave? Why can’t you stay?” I beg for my father but at this point, I beg for a father.

“I am sorry love, I need to go. Eric and Dr. Shirley keep me updated on her condition. I’m going to be late for my flight.” He checks his watch. Wait he is leaving now and is just telling me this. I know I have been avoiding him but I thought I would have some time with him. “Stay safe and I’ll see you later. I love you both.” We walk him to the car and see all of his bags in the car with him. He kisses our heads before leaving. Bye, father.

This week has been painful not because of my leg but because I am dying of boredom. I am actually recovering fast like how Dr. Shirley promised. Jesus’s kind soul has not left my side for this whole week but he is suffocating me. I appreciate him, but I think he is so invested in my recovery because he feels like it is his fault for my injury. Every hour I would give him pointless errands to run for me. He will do them with a smiling face. But as the days go by he would come to my daily check-ups with Dr. Shirley.

While Jesus is gone, I mostly watch tv or do some small artwork.

As I am watching tv and my attention was pulled in by my phone’s notification, a new text from Sage.

Sage: Hey, sorry I haven’t texted you in a while I have been super busy a work. I was wondering how you are feeling?

Angel: Don’t worry I understand and thank you for thinking about me. I am fine but on bed rest for the week.

Sage: Oh no, are you sure you are ok? Would it be ok if I come over and pay a visit?

Would it be okay? I ask myself. Sage’s reply makes my thumbs stop moving. I don’t know. I would love the new company but Sage doesn’t know my secret rich lifestyle. No does. My father never said I couldn’t have visitors. I texted back with my address and “I would love that, thank you .”

I notify the gatekeeper to let in Sage when she arrives. My brother accepts Sage’s surprise visit. I text Jesus to bring Sage to my room or she will get lost. Plus he can direct her to the proper area just in case she finds wolves roaming around.

Within minutes, I got a text from Jesus saying “Got her. We are coming up.”

I prepare myself and make sure I look decent enough for the living. Soon Jesus opens my door with Sage.

Sage rushes in my room with a hand full of flowers and a big sigh of relief. “Angel oh my god. How are you?” she sits on my bed to give me a hug.

“I’m fine. Thank you for coming.” I say as she hands me my flowers. “Thank you for the flowers.”

“I’m just glad you are feeling better. I am sorry I could visit you sooner.”

“No, you're fine.” I try to ease her worry. I notice her eyes looking around her surroundings. “Sage just ask. I know you’re curious.”

“Well you live in a palace, you have a gatekeeper and is Jesus a servant? And I’m curious about the shooting.”

“Ya, I am rich. Well, my father is wealthy and he likes his privacy. Jesus is my friend but officially he is a servant, at least in my father’s eyes.”

“I never thought you were one of those rich girls. Is everyone rich at our school?” she asks herself. Our school is known to have wealthy families.

“I try to keep my home life private from my school life.”

“So I bet you want to keep it that way?” She asks.

“Yes, please.” I smile and hope she will agree.

“Don’t worry, I respect that. Compare to most rich girls at our school. They always flash us with their jewelry, clothes, and their cars. Well, I’ll keep your secret.” It seems like everyone has been keeping my secrets.” I’m not here to gossip or to report back to a journalist for money. I generally want to make sure you are okay and feel better.”

“Sage don’t worry, I trust you.” I do. She is my first friend from school to be at my house. Minus Xavier but he is a wolf. Sage is normal. I do trust her to be in my house.

“Good. I just want to know because all I know about the shooting is whatever shit they are pouring on tv.”

Sage and I talk back and forth about the false reports. We both laugh about the dumb interviews from “my friends” saying “We are keeping Angel in our prayers.” Underneath the laughter, there is a  sense of anger. It is a shame that they want to be my friend just for their 15 minutes of fame. I am glad Sage was able to visit me. It was the best way to finish my week. After Sage’s visit, Dr. Shirley comes to my room to give me the all-clear for school tomorrow. Whatever Sage did, she healed me. 

[skam-stories]

Perfectly Wrong | Part Two

Guess who’s planned out eight parts? This gal. Buckle up and get ready for the ride.

This is pretty much pure incantava slow burn. You’re welcome.

You can read part one here.

Eleonora was sure she’d read this line before. She frowned as she finished the paragraph, wondering how long she’d spent on this page of the book she was desperately trying to concentrate on. She flipped the page, quickly realising she definitely hadn’t taken in any of the information on the previous page. She had no idea what these characters were talking about. 

She flipped the page back again, starting at the top of the page once more.

After reading the first line on the page about four times, she still hadn’t taken any of it in.

She sighed, giving up on her book and throwing it onto the blanket she was lying on.

Slinging one arm over her face to cover her eyes, she let herself finally think about the subject she’d been trying to keep her mind off.

Edoardo.

She’d barely slept last night because she couldn’t stop running over everything in her head. She’d come close to making a pros and cons list before deciding that was just childish.

He’d sent her multiple messages after she ran away from him the week before, wanting to know if she was okay and saying he was sorry. He’d finally stopped sending them a day ago, and part of her wished he’d kept trying.

The whole situation was just so frustrating. There was no easy fix, because it wasn’t just one thing.

Miraculously Silvia could be totally fine with things, but Eleonora would still worry that she was only another girl on the wall to him. He could somehow prove that he was serious about her, but she’d still have Silvia to worry about. 

It was just all too much.

And how was she supposed to know she wasn’t just another mark on a wall to him? They’d spend time together and she’d feel like the only girl in the world to him, but what if that was just his typical move? Silvia had probably felt like the only girl in the world to him too. How was she supposed to believe that he wasn’t only interested in the game of chase she’d created for him to play?

But god, when it was just the two of them she so badly wanted him to want her for real. She wanted to believe him when he said they’d figure it out.

“Eleonora?”

She looked up to see the subject of her thoughts standing in front of her, automatically sitting up. How did they keep running into each like this? It was getting ridiculous.

“Hi.”

His hand went to the back of his neck as he greeted her back, and she felt a surge of warmth as she watched him. He was nervous again, probably worried she’d yell at him to leave her alone.

“Do you want to sit?” She asked, trying to show him she wasn’t angry.

He nodded. “Sure.”

“You can call me Ele, Edo” she said, the fact that he’d called her by her full name not lost on her. She knew he was calling her that because she’d so harshly told him not to call her by her nickname the other day.

He sat down next to her on the blanket she’d laid out on the grass, leaning back on his hands.

They sat in silence for a moment, and Eleonora nervously twisted a lock of hair around her finger.

“I’m sorry about the other day.”

Eleonora’s hand stilled, and she slowly looked over at him. All she could think about was the way he’d held her, the way he’d kissed her cheek. “Are you really though?”

He locked eyes with her. “I am. You have reservations about us as a couple, and I should respect that.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and Eleonora wanted nothing more than to forget all the reasons why they shouldn’t be together. She wanted this to be easy; but it wasn’t.

“I know why you think that you’d just be a mark on a wall to me, and I’m happy to prove you’re not.”

She felt her heart speed up at his words, but she couldn’t help but feel like what he was saying was too good to be true.

“Can we be friends?”

No. She didn’t want that. But she nodded her head anyway.

“Okay. Friends.”

Edoardo pulled a book out from the bag he’d laid on the ground when he sat down. Her eyes followed him as he lay down next to her, watching as his dark eyes scanned the page and took in the story. There was one curl just above his left eyebrow that was hanging down and she had to resist the urge to brush it back into the rest of his hair.

“Friends don’t look at their friends like that, Ele.”

She felt heat rush to her face at being caught, and she tried not to think about the smug look on his face too much. She responded by picking up her book from the blanket, lying down next to him and attempting to focus on it though she was more distracted than ever.

She had the same problem as before, reading the same page four more times before giving up and placing her book down on the blanket again.

She resumed her position from before, with one arm slung across her face to cover her eyes and shelter them from the sun. She was so tired from sitting up lost in her thoughts the night before. She just needed to shut her eyes for a minute.

“Ele, wake up.”

Eleonora groaned lightly at the voice, which was weirdly coming from just above her head. “No.”

“Come on, honey.”

“No. Va’ via.” Go away.

The voice laughed lightly, and it felt like the ground was moving with it. She furrowed her brow, wondering what on earth was going on.

Opening her eyes, she felt heat rush to her cheeks as she realised her head was resting on Edoardo’s chest. She must have rolled over while she was asleep.

While she was embarrassed, it wasn’t lost on her that it was a very nice chest to rest her head on.

“You’ve only been asleep about twenty minutes, don’t worry.”

Eleonora rubbed her eyes, sitting up. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to shake off the desire to curl back up into him. She tried not to think about the fact that she’d been dreaming about him lately, and that when she was little she used to talk in her sleep.

“Sorry.”

He grinned over at her. “I really didn’t mind.”

She tried not to read into that.

“Don’t worry, you don’t snore.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You probably do.”

He laughed. “Wouldn’t you love to know.”

They were flirting, and part of her wanted to tell him that less than an hour ago he was claiming they could be friends. But she didn’t want to have to stop flirting with him.

“So what else were you planning on doing today besides taking naps in public spaces?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue like a child.

“I don’t know, I hadn’t really planned much.”

He gave her a curious look “have you been on a proper tour of Rome yet?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t seen everything yet.”

“Have you seen the Vaticano?”

She shook her head. She’d meant to, but every time she remembered that it was something she should do it was too late in the day to have time to fully appreciate it or she couldn’t bear the thought of lining up with all those Americans.

“We still have enough time to go check it out today.”

She really needed to stop doing this; accidentally spending whole days with him. But she really didn’t want to. 

They moved from room to room, and Eleonora couldn’t seem to form words. She was too amazed by the beauty around her, constantly stopping to look.

Edoardo was patient with her, pointing out little details in the designs and telling her his favourite spots.

More than once she managed to drag her eyes from the art and was met with him standing there smiling at her, looking at her like she was the attraction instead.

Time flew by, and soon they’d spent more than three hours wandering around together. It was just so easy spending time with him. 

Yes, they were surrounded by artwork and it wasn’t necessarily hard to entertain themselves, but Eleonora felt like they could do anything and it would be fun. They could go grocery shopping and it’d probably be the highlight of her week.

Would he really spend all this time with her if she was just another mark on the wall?

She tore her gaze away from the ceiling above her, looking over at Edoardo. He was looking at her again, and the look in his eyes made her melt. 

She wanted to be more than a mark on the wall, she really did. 

Somehow she hadn’t truly realised that before; just how much she wanted him. She didn’t think she could bear being just another girl he used and threw aside.

She realised they were staring at each other. “Why do you keep looking at me?”

Edoardo shrugged. “I’ve seen this before. I like watching you see it for the first time.”

Eleonora didn’t know what to say. She wished she’d made that pros and cons list. She knew he could hurt her; more than she’d ever been hurt before. Now that the reality that Edoardo might be serious about her was setting in, there was a hole in her stomach where the fear of that was eating away at her. 

“C’mon, let’s go.”

She stopped to look at the ceiling one more time and the person behind her ran into her, swearing at her in an American accent.

Edoardo wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her towards the next room.  “At least you didn’t knock his bags to the ground.”

She pretended to be offended, but quickly gave up the act and laughed with him. 

The crowd thickened as they made their way through the hall, and Eleonora was glad that she wasn’t so short she couldn’t see over the heads of the people around her. Even so, she felt her chest constrict and her heartbeat pick up as they slowly moved with the crowd. 

A hand slipped into hers, fingers threading through hers. She looked down at her hand and then up at Edoardo. He just smiled gently at her.

“I don’t want to lose you” he said, and her heart was beating fast for a completely different reason now. She stared at him, mouth slightly ajar.

“In the crowd, you know” he said, his free hand going to the nape of his neck.

She nodded her head wordlessly, mentally scolding herself for reacting so obviously.

His thumb gently rubbed over the back of her hand, and she felt like her entire arm had been shocked. It was like there was electricity running through her veins. How did he do this to her?

He kept holding onto her hand after the crowd had thinned, and she didn’t pull away. Neither of them dared comment on it, and their hands stayed entwined for another long moment.

They spent another two hours wandering around and taking it all in; Eleonora taking in the art and Edoardo taking her in.

Eleonora gasped when she looked at her phone and saw the time. “We’ve been here five hours!”

Edoardo laughed. “You can’t see the Vaticano in less time than that, Ele.”

She slid her phone back into her pocket, looking down at the ground before looking up at him. “I had fun.”

He smiled at her as he held the door open for her. “I always have fun with you.”

She looked away and tried to hide her smile, wishing again that this could be easy.

“I can’t believe we went that long without food though” Edoardo said.

Eleonora laughed. “Yes, I’m starving.”

“Dinner?” he asked.

She nodded in response, her stomach growling as she did. 

They got dinner at a nearby restaurant that Edoardo said was good.

Eleonora teased him as they waited for their food, saying that she’d judge him if the food didn’t live up to expectations.

“I have very high standards for pizza, Edo.”

“You’ll have even higher standards after trying his, okay. Trust me.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Have you ever been to America? I want to try New York pizza, and Chicago deep dish pizza.”

“It’s probably terrible” he laughed. “I haven’t been.”

“Probably” she agreed. “But I want to try it so I can justify that opinion.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Fair enough. You should go there.”

“Maybe I will.” She thought for a second about whether she should bring it up, before saying “Silvia went there last holidays. She brought back Jello. It was terrible.”

She watched Edoardo’s reaction, not meaning to make a point by bringing up Silvia this time. He laughed and she let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. 

“Jello sounds gross” he said.

“It was so bad” she laughed.

After dinner, Edoardo offered to drive her home.

She realised as she got into his car that they’d spent a ridiculous amount of time together, almost ten hours, and that she’d happily spend another ten with him.

Friends.

Edoardo reached forward to turn the music down as he started the car. “Do you remember when I asked you if you wanted a lift?”

Eleonora laughed. “Of course I do.”

“It’s just funny that you’re in my car now, is all.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You’re not the worst person in the world.”

He laughed. “So I’m not a faccia di cazzo after all?”

“No you absolutely are” she said, laughing too.

Edoardo turned the music back up, and Eleonora spent the car ride going through his music selection. 

Soon enough he was pulling up outside her house. None of the girls had ever been there.

“Are your parents home?”

She shrugged. “I think so.”

He was quiet, and she wished she didn’t have to deal with this topic. Not just with him, with anyone. A normal family would be great.

“So Fede and I are having a party next week. Do you and the girls want to come?”

She was glad he hadn’t asked questions she didn’t want to answer.

“Yeah, I’ll ask the girls.”

“Fede really wants Eva to come” he said, drawing out the ‘really’.

She laughed. “Of course he does.”

Edoardo shrugged. “I’m not sure what’s going on there.”

She was surprised he was so honest about it. “Yeah, I’ll let you know what the girls say.” She hesitated before adding “it’ll probably be a yes”.

He just grinned in response.

She went to open the door but stopped, turning to face him again. She leant over towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Good night, Edo.”

“Night, Ele.”

[joyfullynervouscreator]

A Wedding in Imladris

Inspired by this drawing, by stephescamora @motherofbees, thanks to @avoyagetoarcturus the detective ^^

 TA 109, somewhere in Greenwood.

Shifting his son on his lap, Thranduil, King of Greenwood, held his reins loosely. The large elk he rode – Dairon had died last winter, but his son Caranor was proving to be just as good a mount as his sire – shared its naneth’s colour, as well as her spirited temper. Firithel had died only a few years after his birth, defending her fawn from a large wolf, and it made him sad to see one more link to his lost Queen disappear from the world, even if it was something as comparably minor as her favourite mount.

“Ada!” Legolas cried out, breaking Thranduil free of his thoughts, amused when the elfling – had it really already been thirty years since the small leaf had been placed in his arms, all red and wrinkly and heartbreakingly beautiful? – pointed at the small yellow bird that had a nest in the tree they were passing. “Look!”

“It’s called an Eilinel, ionneg,” Thranduil murmured. Caranor snorted, moving with easy steps through the dense woods. His antlers were not yet as large as Dairon’s had been – Thranduil had a wry thought that his old mount would have needed to choose his path carefully to avoid getting stuck – and the new tines were still covered with peeling fluff. The little bird trilled, and then it was gone in a yellow flash of feathers. Legolas giggled, repeating the word.

“But Ada,” he objected, after some deliberation, “Eilinel is not a bird!”

“Yes, ionneg,” Thranduil chuckled, throwing a glance over his shoulder where one of his favourite singers was riding, “but Eilinel is named for the bird.”

“But she has brown hair,” Legolas said, and Thranduil could easily imagine the frown on his small face, trying to puzzle out the answer, even though he couldn’t see it. Twisting to look up at him, Legolas repeated his answer, as though Thranduil was being silly. “She has brown hair, Ada.” Tugging on one of the pale locks of Legolas’ own hair, Thranduil chuckled gently.

“Eilinel was named for her voice, Legolas.” For a moment, it looked like Legolas would object to that reasoning – Thranduil wasn’t sure he wanted to explain how the naming of elflings worked in this moment – but then he nodded, turning back to look at the forest, straining himself to see more elusive animals as Caranor cantered along.

“Where are we going, Ada?” Legolas asked, when it became clear that there would be no more birds keen for inspection in the trees surrounding them, the dark conifers stretching towards the sky.

“To Imladris, Legolas,” Thranduil replies, distracted by a commotion towards the back of their caravan.

“Why?” The small voice said, tugging on Thranduil’s green sleeve when the answer didn’t come quick enough.

“Hmm?” Thranduil hummed, twisting in his seat to look behind them. Someone had fallen off their mount; he recognised one of the younger ellyn – a troublemaker – but Captain Bronwe had already restored order among his underlings, and the young guardsman regained his seat with his ears flaming with embarrassment.

“Why are we going to Imladris?” Legolas repeated.

“Because a friend of mine is getting wed,” Thranduil replied patiently, steering his mount with his legs as he kept one ear on the goings-on behind him. “Lord Elrond of Imladris is going to marry Lady Celebrían, a kinswoman of ours through her adar, Legolas, and we have been invited to attend the celebrations.”

  “Ada!” The happy voice and the sudden weight attached to the train of his robes made Thranduil immediately aware of his son's desire.

“Legolas is sitting on your robe,” Elrond said, rather redundantly in Thranduil's view. He nodded. The Lord of Imladris did not approve of his robes, Thranduil had realised, but they had spent far too long in armour together for Erond to point out the large swathes of fabric trailing behind him. Thranduil thought these Elves – a motley mix of Sindarin and Noldorin Elves, with a smattering of his own Ada’s Laiquendi people thrown in – considered his robes an affectation of fashion, but he didn’t much care. At first, he had worn the voluminous robes as a sort of armour, a mask to shield his battered spirit from the world, and later he had worn them to hide his gaunt frame from his subjects, but these days they were as much a part of the Elvenking as they were a part of Thranduil himself. Looking at the younger – only by about three centuries, but Thranduil felt far older at times – ellon, the Elvenking of Greenwood smirked.

“Yes,” he replied evenly, having learnt self-control in Doriath and managing to keep his laughter from showing on his face. By now, he had spent so many years among the less formal Silvani in Greenwood that the stiffer etiquette he was once taught in Doriath sometimes took him by surprise when he was among other Sindar. The elfling he had been in Doriath never would have dared sit on Oropher's robes if they had been long enough for Legolas's favourite game. Well, he wouldn’t have dared outside their home, of course, Thranduil admitted to himself; Oropher had always been the image of a proper Sindar lord in the court of Thingol.

“Aaaaaaada!” Legolas's voice turned plaintive and Thranduil relished the flabbergasted look on Erestor's face at the sound. The former Seneschal of Eregion had always been a dour fellow, and peace did not seem to have mellowed him or his sense of propriety. Beside him, Elrond seemed to be having trouble deciding what to think of the small elfling demanding his Ada’s attention. Thranduil did not snicker, but only because he had more self-control than that and paid him no mind. Legolas was far more precious than any fancy artwork Elrond wanted to show off as Lord of the recently-named Imladris, the newly finished home of the survivors of Eregion as well as some of the former inhabitants of Lindon, who had followed their young Lord through the struggles of wartime.

“You will find, Elrond,” Thranduil said calmly, turning his head to smile at the small boy who shared so many of his features, “when you and the Lady Celebrían have elflings of your own-” pausing, Thranduil was rewarded by the sight of Elrond's ears reddening, “-that there are very few inconveniences you will not suffer to make them smile.”

“My Lord?” Elrond asked, apparently confused. Thranduil smirked, feeling the experiences that separated them keenly, like a mantle of wisdom born of the trials of parenthood.

“Watch,” he chuckled, handing Erestor the vase he had been meant to admire - it was lovely craftsmanship, made of thin-blown glass, but not particularly pretty in Thranduil’s opinion. Squaring his shoulders, Thranduil set off at his usual brisk walking pace; the Elves here might like their slow and steady meandering through their gardens, but Thranduil was used to an altogether different speed of motion. Not for the first time, he wondered what would have happened if Oropher had decided to head for Gondolin when Doriath was sacked instead of staying with Círdan’s people, wondered who he might be if the past nearly three thousand years had not happened the way they had, but he shook off the thoughts. Despite the grief he had suffered, he knew he would change none of it, choosing to dwell on the joys of his long life whenever possible.

“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Behind him, sliding across the even floors on the long train of his robes, his youngest son squealed with laughter. The expected result made Thranduil chuckle into the goblet of miruvor he still held, turning around with a wry smirk in Elrond’s direction as he toasted his host with the goblet. Erestor looked sour, striding off in silence, but his absence was no great loss in Thranduil’s opinion. Setting off once more, he returned to Elrond's side, prompting another loud round of giggling from his Little Leaf. Thranduil smiled. The new Lord of Imladris stared. Legolas kept giggling to himself, and Thranduil felt his heart swell with love.

“Again, Ada, again,” the elfling begged, but Thranduil picked him up instead, putting down his empty goblet. Legolas snuggled into his chest, trying to hide a yawn.

“It is late, ionneg,” Thranduil murmured. “Why are you not in bed like Amathanar?” He had bid Legolas goodnight hours before, leaving him in the competent care of Maeassel, but he knew that the little boy’s mischievous spirit – a joy to behold, but also a piercing reminder of his oldest son, who had been the embodiment of mischief right up until the day an Orc’s spear claimed his life – had probably overcome him; his youngest son wanted to experience everything, rarely content with being sent to bed if his ada was awake and doing things. Thranduil knew that he indulged the boy, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to stop, even though he knew Nínimeth would have laughed at him a time or two if she could see them.

Legolas murmured something unintelligible in response and Thranduil wrapped a fold of his robes around the sleepy elfling, humming a soft tune.

“I... You do that often?” Elrond seemed to change his mind mid-sentence, but Thranduil just nodded. In fact, all of his robes had reinforced shoulder seams, precisely because Legolas liked to ride along behind him. In the beginning, Thranduil had found the habit peculiar, but slowly it became a simple source of joy to watch his son smile when his turn of speed made the small belly tickle with exhilaration. It was the same expression he saw when he took Legolas riding, the same expression his Naneth had worn when she challenged him to a race or a swim, dragging him anywhere in their vast forest home to show off all the joys to be found beneath the green leaves.

The habit had lessened over the years as Legolas grew capable of running around on his own, but it remained one of his favourite games; especially when he was a little tired and wanting reassurance. Thranduil smiled softly, pressing his mouth to the tip of a finely pointed ear. Legolas burrowed closer into his chest, his breath turning into soft snores as Thranduil rocked him slowly.

“If it makes my son laugh, there is very little I would not do,” Thranduil admitted, knowing that he did not need to add any other reason: Elrond had seen his Queen on her way to the Grey Havens, and he knew what it was to grow up without a parent, even if he claimed that the Feanorioni had loved him and his brother. The Lord of Imladris nodded silently, leading the way back towards the feast in the main hall where Lady Celebrían was looking even more radiant than her mother as she entertained the guests.

Legolas slept peacefully in his arms. The sight brought softness to many eyes, most of the assembled still remembering terrible years of warfare and the cost of the peace they had won. To many - and to Thranduil himself - little Legolas was proof that their peace would last: at the age of 30, he was still a young child, the slower growth a visible reminder that the Darkness had been defeated and Barad-dûr thrown down.

 Taking a seat by Elrond - he was among the highest-ranking visitors and merited a seat of honour even if they had not been friends - Thranduil shifted Legolas’s sleeping body into his lap and picked up a goblet of spring water, sipping slowly. Around them, the celebration continued, but Thranduil was content to hold his son and listen as he enjoyed the joyous feeling of celebration that hung in the air.

“May I?” Celebrían asked, and Thranduil couldn't find it in his heart to deny her, even if he would have preferred to spend the rest of the night holding his son. He nodded, letting her pick up the sleeping elfling and take him further down the table. When she was out of earshot, he chuckled lightly.

“Hmmm?” Elrond asked, pouring wine into their empty goblets. For a moment, he had been lost in staring at his radiant beauty, but Thranduil’s mirth made him turn his head away from the silver hair that glowed in the light of the moon.

“I dare say you will know the joys of fatherhood ere long,” Thranduil smirked, watching the soon-to-be Lady of Imladris cooing over his son. Elrond choked on his drink.

“Should I not wed her before you begin taking about elflings,” he spluttered, wiping ineffectively at his robes. Thranduil chuckled, handing him a napkin.

“I give you no more than thirty years before your first elfling arrives,” he predicted, feeling smug when Elrond's ears reddened again. Sometimes, Thranduil thought smugly, having had his elflings at a comparatively young age like most Silvans, the Lord of Imladris was far too easily flustered.

“You're on!” Elrond called, when he had stopped coughing and downed the rest of his goblet. Thranduil laughed outright.

“I shall expect settlement in silk, I think, my short-sighted friend. Enough for a new robe.”

In 130, Thranduil received a messenger from Imladris bearing a scroll with the single word ‘Twins!’ on it, and several bolts of fine silk cloth in a small wagon.

He laughed for a very long time.