#but if she already had a borrowed handkerchief with her does she really need to go find a second one?

[masquette]

The Tree by the River .

∿ pairings :

a Camilo Madrigal x fem reader !

∿ summary :

The long anticipated day of yours and Camilo’s anniversary has finally arrived. The two of you just can’t stop drowning each other with love and affection.

∿ warnings :

none .

∿ genre :

fluff ♡ .

∿ this will be written in :

third person pov .

∿ Part One , link .

∿ Part Two , you’re here !

∿ Reminders :

I am not fluent in spanish, anything said in this language is translated from Google.

This is not proofread. If you spot any grammar/spelling mistakes, please do inform me.

[Name] shot her eyes awake, a smile immediately painting her face. Wanting to start the day off with a good start, she started making her bed, swaying and twirling here and there. The female woke up pretty early, and knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep with the lingering thought of him.

She was already feeling butterflies.

“Aya, just what he does to me...” The E/C smiled, daydreaming about a certain shapeshifter. The female went over to her desk, opening a very detailed box she designed herself. Orange, green, and brown were it's theme. The box revealed many letters tied together with a ribbon, and a neatly folded handkerchief. The H/C gently held the cloth, admiring it for just a moment.

A chameleon accompanied by a star, between them was a bigggg heart. The chameleon representing Camilo, the star being the maiden, and the heart being their love for each other.

The female planted a kiss on where the chameleon was embroidered, grinning giddily. She really was lovestruck, she thought and agreed to herself. She stared at the handkerchief for another second, before tying the fabric on to her wrist.

[Name] picked up a piece of paper, words of song written on it. “Mmmhh,” She scanned over the lyrics, “Yeah. Made with love, words from the heart, a good tune, a killer voice, this has to be the definition of perfection.” The H/C haired joked with herself.

“Nowww, for the next step of the day.” She huffed, though grinning. Walking down the stairs as quietly as she could, making her way to the kitchen. She loved making things for her beloved, gifting being her love language and all while Camilo smothered her with hugs and kisses.

The cake she baked was already done as it sat on the fridge untouched, the female threatening anyone who got near it.

“Keep your filthy, unwashed hands from mi amor’s cake, Rigel! Unless you’re desperate in loosing a limb.”

Yeah.... You can say she's very uhm, protective? [Name] has good intentions though, the purest. Yeah, yeah.

Now she's baking arepas! She borrowed the recipe from tia Julietta's, though adding her own twist with it. The smell just makes her mouth water. She took it from the oven, proud of what she'd just made. Then placing it on a cloth before wrapping it securely, not as tight but.. tight. By the placement of the sun right now, her guess was that it was probably 7 to 8am.

Camilo said he'd pick her up at 10, so they could spend the whole day together by the tree besides the river. It's their usual place after all. The arepas and utensils had already been placed inside her picnic basket, she just has to be careful with holding it now. The cake will be put last second to make sure it doesn't melt.

Oh and her guitar! She almost forgot. The female rushed to the stairs, wanting to hold her precious guitar. “Ah, [Name], getting ready for your beloved?” Her mother teased, the said girl smiled in response, “What else would I be doing, ma? I want the best for mi chameleon.” She laughed, and her mother eyed her proudly before laughing herself, “Alright alright. I'll be downstairs if you need me.” to which the H/C just nodded.

She went inside her room to find her guitar placed beside her bed. “Well, guitar secured. Now I'll just have to get ready..” [Name] pursed her lips as she thought of what to wear. She'd never been one to dress, only on occasions like this. Luckily, she absolutely adored her lover. She brought up a self embroidered dress, having the same shade of yellow and orange as his. She sighed,

“The things I'd do for you.”

_

“Isabela! Can you make a bouquet? Mostly with roses and carnations, they're her favorite. Oh, and a stargazer in the middle!”

The said female rolled her eyes, a smirk lingering on her face. “Coming right up, loverboy.” She teased. He just smiled cheekily in response, cheeks tinted pink. Isabela made the bouquet as he requested.

Camilo's eyes lit up, his muddy green orbs held gratefulness towards his cousin. “Gracias!” They immediately took the bouquet from her grasp, running off to his room to fetch his backpack and a well wrapped gift.

He came across his mirror, as he tried to make himself more presentable. He was wearing a sea-blue ruana, matching the shade of his amor's. There were specs of dots, seemingly representing the stars. He got the help of Mirabel to design it. He hummed at himself in satisfaction, before fetching his bag and tossing it over his shoulders. The well-wrapped gift that was once on their desk was now on their grasp, with the bouquet at the other hand.

“Wait, how am i gonna open the door-” Before he could even finish his sentence, his sister, Dolores opened it for him. “I heard your hands were full.” She smiled, “Go, it's 8:30.” She motioned for him to get going, as he still needed to prepare by the river. The female would offer help, but she knew the boy would refuse and say,

“No, no. It has to be just between me and mi vida, just the two of us.”

The said shapeshifter grinned at her, “Thanks, hermana!” before sprinting towards the front door. “Happy Anniversary to you two.” She said, earning another grateful smile from the boy.

“Mami, I'm going to go by the river now!” He waves goodbye his parents, “Have fun! Just don't overdo it, okay?” His father teased, “Papa!” He flushed red, shaking his head. The couple just laughed, “Okay okay, mi chiquito. Happy Anniversary to you and [Name].” They both grinned at him proudly, a rainbow appearing on his mother's head. Camilo nodded with gratitude, before running of to their place.

He had finally reached the river, the sent of water and nature reached his nose. He raised his head to look at the tree, spotting a tree house made by the two of them, and a carving of their initials on it's bark. He smiled at the thought of her. Really, he was obsessed. But in a good way, of course.

Now crossing the river, using the big stones as his steps. Normally he'd just slip off their shoes and jump in it, as the river was shallow, barely reaching his ankles. But he didn't want to make it obvious he's been here, he wanted to surprise her.

Once he had placed the several books he thought would appear interesting to her, placed fabric for them to sit, and threw petals to make it more romantic. He had a set of candles ready for the night as well.

It was finally time to pick her up.

_

The maiden had just placed the cake inside her basket, having already changed and done her usual make-up, as well as her hair. Her guitar was inside it's bag, placed on the couch and ready to be picked up.

It was quarter to 10, her cariño will be here soon and the female could barely control her excitement. She just couldn't wait to sing her heart out and shower him with love.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Her eyes lit up, “Coming!” The maiden went to the mirror to see her reflection, making sure she didn't look like a mess. She hurriedly went to open the door after, finally seeing those enchanting muddy emerald orbs of his.

He was holding a bouquet, consisting of her favorite flowers - roses and carnations, with the exception of a stargazer lily. Of course, the female recognized the shade of blue he was wearing before looking back at his eyes. He seemed to realize it too. The corner of their lips twitched as the two burst into laughter.

“It seems we thought the same, mi cariño.” The maiden smiled, one which sent the other onto a daze, getting lost in her presence. “Yeah.” He agreed absentmindedly, enchanted by her beauty.

 “You're so beautiful.” He really just couldn't help it, it was the truth. They held the maiden's hands, planting a kiss on their knuckles.

“Really now?” She chuckled at her lover's antics, “I mean it.” was all he said in response, though his eyes said so much more as her eyes met his gaze. “Amor,” She mumbled, “Mi cariño,” She caressed his cheeks the same way they caressed her hand.

“You're the prettiest dream I've ever seen in the whole entirety I've been alive.” A kiss for a kiss, truth for truth. The two were in their own world, god, Camilo even forgot about the bouquet he was holding. Their lips touched for a brief moment, and although it was short, it was just as special as the rest.

Their gaze locked on one another, until the maiden started cackling. “Mi vida? What's so funny?” The corner of his lips curled upwards, being affected by her laughter. “The bouquet, querido. Am I really that enchanting?” She playfully smirked, teasing her beloved. “What else would've been the reason? Only you, mi princessa, would have this much of an impact on me.” He bowed in a dramatic manner, holding the bouquet out for the maiden to take — to which she did.

“As you too, mi principe.” The female chuckled, performing a curtsy. “Shall we?” He motioned for the maiden to link their arms together. “Just a second, chameleon.” She linked their arms for a brief moment, as brief as the kiss she planted on his cheek.

Guitar, basket, was that all? Yeah, and a song engraved on her body. The basket now on her arm, and a guitar bag slung over her shoulder.

“Wait- a guitar? Amor, did you-” She cut them off by placing a finger on their lips, shaking her head. “It's a surprise.” She linked their arms again, but this time, it's not only for a small period of time. “Come on, come on! I already told mami we're going.” The maiden tugged on his arm, “Slow down, mi estrella!” They chuckled.

“I'd race you but..” Her gaze fell onto their joined arms. “I like it like this.” She admitted, snuggling her cheek onto his shoulder, as they were almost of the same height. “Me too.” They kissed the maiden's forehead.

“So,” He started, “You wrote a song for me?” The shapeshifter asked, gaze curious yet glowed with appreciation. “Of course, it's for you.” [Name] smiled cheekily, “I have plenty of surprises for you later. I swear, you'll basically drown in my affection!” She proposed, it sounded like a declare of competition.

“Oh? Well, I also have plenty of surprises for you!” They returned the competitive gaze the maiden has. “We'll see about that, chameleon.” She smirked smugly, a gesture which he returned.

“Sounds like a competition to me, mi vida.”

“It is, and I'm going to win.”

“Whatever you say, amor.”

The two exchanged sarcastic remarks, just like they would on the daily. Teasing, flirting, lots and lots of love, it was a normal occurrence for the pair.

They were nearing their destination. The sound of water flowing reached their ears, making their stomachs flutter with excitement.

[Name]'s eyes widened slightly at the sight. Petals, books, wow. It was paradise. But with Camilo, it was heaven. Better than heaven.

“I did a great job, didn't I, mi tesoro?” He glanced at her reaction, prideful as he saw her awestruck eyes.

“It's- I'm- wow. This is absolutely amazing, Camilo, mi amor, I love it.” The maiden awed at the sight, “I love you.” She kissed his nose.

“More? Pleaseee.” He pleaded, to which the female obliged. She giggled, peppering the other with kisses, her lipstick stains on his face. He accepts with glee, letting the maiden shower him with her lovely kisses.

The basket was already on the floor, with the bouquet inside. After a couple more smooches, the female wiped her lipstick off his face, much to his dismay. She rested her head on the crook of his neck, savoring his scent. His arms held her waist, chin on her head. The shapeshifter started humming a song as he gently swayed, “Dancing now?” The female chuckled, as she started swaying too. “You don't want to?”

“Camilo, when would I never want to dance with you?” She looked up to lock their gazes, arms no longer on his chest as she draped them over his neck.

“Then, let's dance–” They guided the maiden over to the river, taking their shoes off. “here.” One of his arms on her waist, the other holding her hand whilst the female’s was on his shoulder. Together, they danced ever so gracefully, in sync.

Their gaze on each other never broke, feet moving by the water, it was mesmerizing. Their bodies moved together, as if they'd done this plenty of times before. [Name]'s dress flowing ever so smoothly by their movements, much like water. Camilo guided her skillfully, twirling her perfectly that allowed her beauty to shine.

He couldn't help but think of how pretty she is, she was absolutely stunning. Truly a sight to see. He loved how perfect the way her hair danced with the wind, loved how she looked at him with such admiration, loved the way she smiled, god, she was so beautiful.

And she? She loved how his cheeks flushed, his pretty eyes that shone, loved his adorable freckles, his hair that was so soft, dios, she was absolutely lovestruck.

Neither wanted this moment to end, even though it felt as if time had stopped. It was a day-

–full of loving songs,

“Mi cariño,” The female smiled, hands on the strings of her guitar. “This song, I wrote specifically for you.” She bopped his nose with a cheeky grin. Camilo laughed, leaning in to peck her cheek. “A goodluck kiss for mi vida.” They teased. “Luck I don't need, fuel I do. Your kisses will suffice.” She smirked, before strumming her fingertips on the strings of her guitar.

“ I'd never gone with the wind ,

just let if flow ,

let it take me where it wants to go ,

'till you opened the door ,

and there's so much more ,

I'd never seen it before .

I was trying to fly but I couldn't find wings ,

then you came along and you changed everything . ”

Camilo was already tearing up. The love of his life, wrote this song for him. And only him. He couldn't explain how special he felt at that moment. He felt so loved and appreciated.

“ You lift my feet off the ground ,

spin me around ,

you make me crazier , crazier ,

feels like I'm falling and I ,

am lost in your eyes ,

you make me crazier , crazier, crazier . ”

Her voice was amazing, she sang with so much passion. It made his heart melt and tooth rot. She was too sweet.

“ I watched from a distance as you ,

made life your own ,

every sky was your own kind of blue ,

and I wanted to know ,

how that would feel ,

and you made it so real .

You showed me something that I couldn't see ,

you opened my eyes and you made me believe . ”

Oh god, he was crying, wasn't he? Wiping the tears that managed to escape his eyes, he smiled at her with such love.

“ You lift my feet of the ground ,

spin me around ,

you make me crazier , crazier ,

feels like I'm falling and I ,

am lost in your eyes ,

you make me crazier , crazier , crazier . ”

The female's fingers stopped strumming the guitars strings, her gaze holding his. “Camilo, mi tesoro, I love you. Like what the song said, really, you make me crazier.”

–love letters the two kept,

“Okay, this!” The female rummaged through the box she bought, holding a pink letter. “This is my favorite.” She snickered. “What's yours, cariño?”

Her beloved held a box of theirs too, filled with the letters they've exchanged throughout the year. “All of them.” He exclaimed, “Since they're all from you, mi vida.”

“...That's not fair, now you're making me feel bad.” The maiden sulked, “You really don't have a favorite?”

“I mean, there is this one letter..” He trailed, shifting his gaze from the maiden to the box. They took a white colored paper, “This one.” he flaunted.

“A-Amor, are you sure you got the right letter-”

He cut her off by reading it's first line,⠀ “ Camilo, my beloved, I wrote you poems while you were gone. ”

“Mi vida, please, not out loud!” The maiden was flustered, cheeks reddenning.

Camilo paid no mind however, it was rare to see her all flustered.

“ I miss you already, and I can't stop thinking about you. Dios, all I'm painting is you, and all I can do is write about you. Chameleon, what did you do to me? ”

He read aloud with a smug look.

“ I can't wait to hear your voice again. I want to hug you and shower you with all my affection. Have I ever told you how pretty you are? ”

He snickered, “To answer your question, mi estrella, you have. Plenty of times.” He kissed her forehead, “You, are just like a dream. Mi amor is the prettiest.”

The maiden smiled sheepishly, “Thank you..” she burried her head further onto his shoulder, an attempt to hide her red face.

“..but I'll have to take revenge.” She smirked with mischief as she held an ocean blue letter. Camilo's mouth went agape, “You have that?!”

The maiden nodded, “A little birdie gave it to me.” before clearing her throat,

“ [Name], the love of my life, I probably won't be giving this to you. Not yet, at least. ”

“¡Lo siento!, mi vida! ¡Lo siento!” The other pleaded. He knew his sister could hear them, and he wouldn't hear the end of it once he comes back! They tried to rip the letter off her grasp, but she kept him in place whilst shaking her head.

“ So since I won't be giving this to you for maybe a long time, I'm giving this letter everything. You, mi vida, are just so perfect in every way possible. Beautiful both inside and outside. Words can never describe your beauty. My pretty girl. ”

The maiden blushed, reading the phrase ‘ My pretty girl ’ again. “Awe, amor.” She pecked his cheeks, “Can I have the letter back now? Please?” he begged with those eyes of his. The female considered for a moment, before shaking her head, “Nope.”

“ I crave your touches, your voice, and your scent. Mi estrella, my shining star. You have no idea how much I love you. ”

“I love you too, chameleon.” [Name] snickered, handing him the letter. “I meant it.” He exclaimed, “Every single word.”

“You know, I have this letter that I haven't given to you yet. So I thought it was only fair.” She picked a red letter out of the box, “Here.” She handed him the letter.

The other opened it, reading the letters contents before smiling softly. “I'm your first love?” He held her hands delicately, “Yeah.” she admitted. “You're my first love too, mi chica bonita.”

To: My first love, whoever you may be,

Hi, if you're reading this, I probably handed it to you. You're my first love, no one's ever made me feel the same. Whether or not my feelings are reciprocated, I wouldn't help but dream of you, and I'd thank you either way. You made me feel love, something I've never felt before. Requited or not, no one will be able to steal the title “My first Love” from you.

Signed, [Name].

–feeding each other sweet delicacies,

“Now these, mi vida, taste heavenly.” He moaned in ecstasy, whatever she made was absolute perfection. The maiden giggled at her lover's antics, before going back to reading a book he got her.

He visibly pouted, “Amor,” they called out, catching the females attention. “Hm?” She hummed, letting him know she's listening before shifting her gaze to him. Camilo's mouth was open, an invitation for the female to spoon feed another bite of the cake.

“Fine, fine.” She laughed, feeding them another spoon. “Is it that good?” She asked, the other nodded eagerly in response. “The best.”

Their grip on her waist tightened slightly, nuzzling his face closer to her neck. “Read for me?” He requested.

“Anything for you.”

–full of sweet moments,

Camilo was listening to the maiden ramble, his head resting on her lap.

“I felt really bad about it, honestly. But I couldn't do anything about it! I just-” She immediately stopped when she realized that her beloved was sleeping, eyes closed and relaxed.

She smiled and played with his hair, massaging his scalp. “Why'd you stop, mi amor?” They were not asleep. He sat up, “I was listening.” he took her hand that was on his head, kissing her knuckles. “Well- I thought you were asleep, I didn't want to wake you up.” She chuckled and laid down on the grass, making the other follow too.

“I was about to, your voice is like a lullaby to me.” He confessed, head now on her chest. She didn't mind. “I could sing you a lullaby.” The maiden played with their curly brown locks again, making him sigh with content. “I'd like that.”

“ Oh , my little little bunny ,

the carrots are on the wagon ,

somehow it thought it was funny ,

the carrots on the wagon . ”

The maiden sang, as the other closed their droppy eyes.

“ Oh , my little little bunny ,

the carrots have gone .

It's now in my tummy ,

said the little baby bunny . ”

The two held each other in their embrace under the setting sun. The wind hushing as it blows. The pair under the tree, content with where they are now, as long as they're together.

–the scent of candles and the comfort in his voice, eyeing the stars in each other's hold,

[Name] yawned, having just awoken from her short nap. She looked at the spot Camilo slept, only to find out he wasn’t there. The scent of candles reached her nose, looking around to see various candles lit up.

“Mi estrella,” She heard his voice, eyes immediately following the source. There she saw her beloved, a box in his hand. The maiden smiled, “Mi chameleon,” she said, sounding breathless.

The maiden turned around, giving him access to the back of her neck. She felt the cold metal touch her skin, hearing a clicking noise initiating the necklace was now on her. Camilo kissed her neck to her shoulders, his arms around her torso.

The shapeshifter took a seat next to the maiden, “This is for you.” he handed her the box. The two stared at each other lovingly, until the female pecked his cheeks, chuckling slightly.

“Open it, amor.” Ushered the shapeshifter, rubbing their noses together. “Alright, alright.” She giggled, before opening the box.

Inside it was a necklace, half of a heart. “I have the other half, they’re magnets.” He showed her the necklace he was wearing, hidden under his poncho. “You’re too sweet, mi vida.” She intertwined their fingers, the male just chuckled in response. “Here, I’ll put it on for you.” He offered, to which the other accepted.

Once he was satisfied, he raised his head to stare at the female’s pretty eyes, before taking a glance at her lips. She smiled, closing the gap between them, locking their lips together. She caressed his cheeks softly, while he nibbled at her lower lip. “Mnh, ‘milo,” She pulled away, giggling, making the other laugh.

“I love you.” He said, leaning in for another passionate kiss. Their lips moved together in sync, he felt the maiden smile. His hold on her torso tightened slightly, kissing her deeper.

Click!

The pair pulled away to investigate the noise, noticing that their necklaces were now connected. “Do you like it, mi sol?” He asked, gesturing at the necklace. [Name] nodded, “Of course I do.” she rested her back on his front.

Camilo fell down on his back, bringing the maiden down with him, turning to his side, spooning the other. “Ay, ‘milo!” Laughed the female. He just pecked her head, chuckling slightly.

A moment of comfortable silence ensued the two. “Why don’t we stargaze?” [Name] suggested, turning around to face her beloved. “I’m already gazing at you, though.”

She rolled her eyes at his antics, smirking, “I’ll give you a kiss.” and that was all he needed to be persuaded.

The two laid their in each other's embrace once again, one pointing out constellations of the stars, while the other admired the prettiest star next to him.

The Tree by the River .

January 24 , 2022 . Monday .

edited on February 10 , 2022 .  Thursday .

∿ author’s note :

terribly sorry if this is a mess. honestly, i’m not quite proud of it, but we push through! The song [Name] sang for Camilo was, if you don’t already know, called “Crazier” by Taylor Swift.

anyhow, thanks for reading! i hope you at least enjoyed lmao 

i promise, my writing will improve, okay? determination at its finest amirite

have a nice day / evening ! up next is a carlos fanfic this time, i am obsessed with these two.

[yutahoes]

Roses and Blood

pairing: private detective! Yuta Nakamoto x journalist! Y/N 

word count: 4.4k words

genre: angst, a bit of smut, NOIR

summary : A high-profile cheating case just become a murder case. And the center of it all is the detective himself. 

warnings : death, murder, blood, cigarettes, alcohol, sexual themes (masturbation) but not detailed, abuse, mentions of cheating, mentions of torture

This is my attempt to write a Noir AU, I’m not a fan of detective movies or this genre so this is the best that I can make up. This is heavily inspired by Secret’s Poison MV. 😁  

taglist: @dimplehyunn @nominsgirl @jaesqueso @ahsshilee-me @readers-posts @justpeachygirl 

written for Neo-City Noir Collab Call by @suh-insane​

An extra cube of sugar in my cup of coffee. The only thing that changed in my everyday routine. The everyday bustling and hustling of the street outside didn’t change a bit. A typical day. 

The calmness of the office was disturbed when the door opened. A strong scent of woman’s perfume hitting my nose. Roses. She smelled like roses. 

The woman removed her coat, revealing a red button-down blouse hugging her figure. Blood. She reminds me of blood. A woman who might bring trouble. 

Her heels click-clacking against the hardwood of my office and she slumped on the chair before I could remove my eyes from her. “I need your help.” She started, crossing her legs. “Detective Nakamoto.” 

I leaned in on the table to assess her. An unreadable expression. She might be used to this. She took an envelope from her white handbag, sliding it on the table in front of me. "This is the file for Senator Hall." I opened the envelope which revealed a detailed copy of the said senator's information. "There had been threats to his life and I wanted to ask your help in finding who the mystery sender is." 

There are different sized papers inside the envelope, letters cut from magazines that contain messages of threats. “Are you and the senator…?” Her lips curled up even before I could finish my sentence. 

She handed a card, slipping it on the table. “I’m Y/N, Senator Hall’s publicist.” True enough, the card says that she is a journalist. “There are talks about how good you are, considering you found the mistress of Otto Holding’s chairman.” My jaw clenched. It’s not my best work but why did I get famous because of that? “Can I assure your help, Detective?” 

I nodded with a smirk. She knew the business. Interesting. The woman placed the briefcase on the table, “This is just the first payment.” A briefcase full of money? This is serious business. She placed a gold-colored card above the briefcase with the letters ‘Fantasia’ written on it. “The senator usually comes to this club. He often gets the letters in this place.” 

Fantasia? It’s a new high-end club that just opened for VIPs. This just narrowed down the list of potential suspects. They can either be VIPs or someone working in that club. 

“I trust that you do your job discreetly,” She leaned on the table and I found myself staring at the low cut of her red blouse. “Mr. Yuta Nakamoto.” The way my name rolled on her tongue sent shivers down my spine. And as she left the office, her heels clicking on the floor, I was left with the scent of roses and an unhealthy amount of attraction for the senator’s publicist. 

My fingers fiddled with the business card she handed. 

Miss Y/N. 

Trouble. 

Will I get to see her again? 

Fantasia is so posh, so high class, that security is so tight. It runs in an invite-only policy, the golden card that Miss Y/N handed. But even if you had the said invite, you needed to give them your personal information. Nothing bad will surely happen here. 

The inside was not anything I imagined. The smell of alcohol and the blinding lights are the first thing noticeable inside, followed by jazz music playing. Girls in promiscuous clothes were serving drinks as another girl with flashy red clothes was singing on the stage. The color of rose and blood. And I was reminded of Ms. Y/N once again. 

Senator. I’m here for a task. 

After getting my drink from the bartender, I searched for a place where I could sit and surveyed the place. Before I approached a corner seat, I spotted the man I should be eyeing, seated on a velvet couch and staring at the girl on the stage. Based on the files, he has a wife and she’s very wealthy. Is this another case of a cheating husband? Then this case will be solved immediately. 

The girl in the red dress singing earlier made her way to the crowd, stopping in front of the senator before giving him a smile and a wink. A smirk escaped my lips, case closed. I've been in this work for so long to know that his wife is giving him threats for having a girlfriend. A cliché love story. 

The task was done even before I could begin so I drank a little to celebrate my small victory. Although the drink is expensive, I deserved this. 

I'm busy minding my drink when the seat beside me gets occupied. "Hi." The same girl in the red dress singing on stage earlier. The senator's lover. "You're new here, aren't you?" 

Does she keep track of the people here? "Want me to show you a good time?" What? But before I could say anything, she lightly pushed up her skirt to show me her thigh. What the hell is this club? 

I turned around from her, facing the female bartender who was wiping the counter, and drank the contents of my glass in one gulp. I have to get out of here. The girl held my chest and I hastily stood up, feeling my head throbbed. What is happening to me? I felt my legs lose their strength as my stomach grumbled, sour liquid creeping up in my throat. 

Immediately, I ran to the men's toilet to vomit everything in my stomach. The sour and bitter taste coming out of my mouth. Where did this come from? Is it the expensive drink? Am I not allowed to drink expensive scotch? Luxury life isn't really for me. 

The moment I went out, wiping my mouth with my handkerchief, a surprise overtook me. A body was lying on the floor, a pool of blood by my feet. Turning it, I stumbled on my feet to see the senator as pale as a ghost. What the hell? I kneeled on the bloody floor, pumping his chest to at least save him but it's too late. He already lost a lot of blood. Shit, this is bad. 

A stray bullet can be seen on the side of his body next to something glistening. An earring. Gold flower earring. The lingering smell of cigarettes, mint cigarettes. Before I could stand, the door opened followed by a scream of terror. This is really bad. 

The door closed. I had to save myself. Even if it is the most questionable thing, I jumped out of the window and ran for my life. My hands were still bloody as well as my coat, the earring in my coat pocket. This is a first. What will happen to me now? There's only one person who saw me. They can't actually remember me, right? 

It must be the distress, the lightheaded feeling of panic. A blinding car light made me stop in my tracks. This might be my death. I should have bought the fanciest drink there is. 

"Detective Nakamoto?" Then the voice of an angel. I might be dead. "Are you alright?" The angel appears to wear a red shirt. The color of blood. Death. "What happened to you?" Her flesh feels warm, she's alive. 

It is the distress, the panic, that I cling to her arm. The police sirens could be heard and I begged for her to take me out of the place. 

The evening lights were blinding as she drove. Destination, unknown. Her phone rang and she accepted the call, Mrs. Hall. "My husband is dead." She stepped on the brakes immediately, putting her phone on handset before glancing at me. 

I didn't hear what they were talking about but her stare at me got me ideas. She might have found out that I'm in the same club as him. When she put down the call, she only stared at me. "You killed him?" 

"What? Of course not." 

She raised an eyebrow, eyeing my bloody coat. "I swear I didn't. I saw him lying in his own blood when I left the restroom stall." 

"Someone saw you." She opened the radio of her car, "And now, they're looking for you." The voice from the radio was talking about how the senator was found dead in the jazz club and that they're looking for a man in a coat. I hastily removed my coat, throwing it on the backseat of the car. 

She laughed at that. "You think that's all, detective?" She showed her phone, a picture of me taken earlier in the club with a wanted sign on top. Shit! "I asked you to find who tried to kill him, not kill him." 

"I swear I didn't," I shouted, putting my hands up. "I don't even own a gun and he was shot." I tried to think of other things I noticed at the scene of the crime. Come on Yuta, think. "It smells like cigarettes and I don't smoke." 

She raised an eyebrow at that. "But why are you there?" 

"You asked me to come there."

"I mean the restroom." She rolled her eyes. "If he was shot, why didn't you hear the gunfire? Why didn't you ask for help?" 

I closed my eyes in frustration. Journalists really are inquisitive. "I was vomiting my drink and I don't know, I panicked. I thought I could save him." She started the car without a word and I just sat there, looking outside to see where we were going. 

What will happen to me now? A wanted man. I can't return to my original life. Why am I in this mess? "I'm sorry. I believe you. I asked you for help and you were just trying to do your job." I nodded. At least she understands. "But for now, everyone knows you so I'll help you hide then maybe we can clear your name." 

I have nothing to do but trust her. I need to clear my name. Why is my brain so blank now? 

We stopped at a gas station to get some food. I’m pretty famished after vomiting everything but the moment I stepped inside the store, the news of the senator can be heard followed by a description of the person who killed him. The attendant stared at me before Y/N took his attention. This is bad. 

Hastily, I made a beeline outside after cleaning my hands off the blood. Y/N is already outside with a lollipop in her mouth, leaning by her car. “I borrowed some clothes.” She should have said that when I was inside but where did she get those clothes? “You can change inside the car.” 

Here? In the open? But she was already opening the door for me. The clothes were on the backseat of her car, a black shirt and jogger pants. And it’s better than having my bloody clothes so even if the shirt is a little tight, pants shorter, I have to wear this. 

She eyed me from head to toe and for the first time, I felt exposed. A raise of an eyebrow followed by the lollipop removed from her mouth with a popping sound. "Do you have any place you can go?" Is there? They're probably at my apartment address by now. The police might be in my office. I shook my head and she smirked, gesturing to the car. 

The city buildings are now gone, replaced by endless empty landscapes. It was a long drive. The news from the radio was replaced by jazz music, her phone kept ringing but she didn't mind it all. A blinding light changed the overall aura of the surroundings as she made a sharp turn heading to what seems like a motel. Why here of all places? It looks like a rundown. Is someone still living here? 

I followed her to what seems like an endless hallway, the smell of cigarettes and weed in the air as the sounds of grunting and bed squeaking can be heard. She inserted a key on the last door to the right, opening it and switching the lights on. “Stay here for a while.” She whispered before casually entering the room. It smelled like roses. Her scent. 

“Do you live here?” She shook her head, handing me a bottle of beer. Then why does she look so comfortable here? She removed her coat and casually throwing it to the couch in the middle of the room. Her arms filled with bruises and scars. “What happened?” 

She shrugged, disappearing to another door and I took time to look around. A large window covered with dark curtains, bottles of beer on the floor under the table. I even saw underwear which made me immediately turn around. There was a sound of murmuring from inside the room, she might be on a call with someone. 

I took my phone out of my coat pocket which revealed countless calls and even messages asking where I was. In annoyance, I just closed my phone and return it to the pocket where my fingers grazed at something sharp. The earring. The gold flower earring. It’s a woman. 

“A woman killed him.” I immediately told Y/N when she went out of the room. “I’m certain of that.” She glanced at me in question. “Maybe his wife.” 

“Mrs. Hall? She’s so kind.” She claimed. “Why would she do that?” 

“Because he’s seeing someone else.” The statement obviously came as a surprise to her. Doesn’t she know? “Senator Hall is seeing another girl in that jazz club.” Her eyebrows were scrunched to focus on my words. Then it came. That girl. She was beside me before I took a shot of my drink. She might have put something in my drink. She listened as I narrate everything to her, no one can help me with this shithole but her. I need to clear my name and find who really killed the senator. 

She bit her lip. “Do you really think she did it? The jazz singer?” I nodded. It’s only her or his wife. “I’m meeting Mrs. Hall tomorrow. I’ll try and look at this.” She rolled her eyes. “This is supposed to be your job.” I apologized. It really is. But my hands are tied now. I can’t do anything. 

The death was all over the news. My face plastered on every newspaper and wanted poster. How quick are they to assume that I killed the senator? Should I just come clean and tell them that I don’t have a gun? That I don’t smoke? 

With nothing to do, I laundry my bloody clothes and some of Y/N’s things. Lightly tidying up her motel room. Why would a girl like her live in a place like this? 

And as I reached out from under the couch, I found out exactly why. 

It’s almost midnight yet she isn’t back. Maybe she isn’t coming here tonight. So I settled to bed, removing the dirty shirt I have been wearing the whole day. The incessant pounding of the bed on the wall from the other room only made me annoyed and, well, disturbed. I can’t fucking sleep. The moans got louder, mattress squeaking that made it unable for me to focus on just sleeping. Fuck! I’m very well disturbed. 

My hand slipped inside my pants, finger tracing the outline of my member while thinking of a certain girl in red lace underwear. Hand wrapped around the hard rod, I started stroking while creating soft moans along with the sound of sex next door. “Y/N,” I whispered and a gasp can be heard that made me open my eyes. She’s in the doorway, looking at me in surprise. Fuck! Immediately, I removed my hand from my pants then stood up from the bed that made me light-headed. “It’s not what it looked like. I…” 

“Yuta,” she called. A sound that rang like a melody in my ears. There were tears in her eyes, a bruised lip, and a cut on her cheek. The reason why she’s staying in this motel room. Why that ring is under the couch. “I don’t want to come back to him anymore.” She choked on her tears. 

Y/N’s cries got louder as I wrap my arms around her. “Then don’t come back to him,” I whispered. How long was this? Why isn’t she speaking up about this? Why is she hiding here? “I’ll protect you, Y/N.” 

She stared right into my eyes. And I knew that very moment I shouldn't have let myself be taken by her good looks and smell. I realized that she was the kind of trouble I was looking for. The kind that would give my life a sense of purpose. 

My hunches might be right seeing how there are bruises and scars all over her skin. How can a confident girl be this fucked up? Now, I have more reasons to clear my name. "When everything clears up, stay with me." I whispered then kissed her bare shoulder. My lips went to hers, gently kissing the bruises and cuts in her skin as if I could erase them. My arms trying to give her the warmth she needed. 

When I woke up, she was nowhere in sight. Her car wasn’t outside as well, she must be off to work. The news is different now, something about the stocks dropping and the murder of another man in town. Maybe I can come outside now. But where should I go? There isn’t any diner or restaurant near the motel, even a store where I can buy food. I’ll have to wait for her to come home and wish that she brought food. 

Luckily, Y/N did. Sushi. Along with the take-out foods is an envelope that contains papers inside. A picture is inside the brown file, the girl from the jazz club. “Is she the one you’re talking about?” I nodded. Although her clothes are different and with a lesser make-up on, she’s obviously that girl. There were details about her, her name and her address. “Do you think she killed the senator?” 

“Why would she drug me if not?” 

“That’s not enough evidence, Yuta.” She’s right. It really isn’t enough evidence to name her the suspect. Shit! Is there anything I can do to clear my name? “I’ll try and watch her, maybe I can get some answers.” 

I moved closer to her, holding her in my arms. If we’re going to clear my name, she wouldn’t be doing this alone. She’s been through a lot. “I’ll come with you.” When she kissed my lips, I already knew her answer. 

She was exactly that girl in the bar. My eyes can’t fool me. It’s a high possibility that she is the killer now that we’re watching her smoke a cigarette. All we need to do is get her alibi and see if she has a gun. But I'm positive that she is the killer. Why would she put poison in my drink? Why me? 

Is it to frame me? She doesn't know me. Is it obvious that I'm a detective at first glance? Which came to my first question, why me? 

That question still lingered in my mind. It's been a week since we saw the girl. Y/N would always leave in the morning and come back each night with new information about the Senator's case. She had been working closely with the lawyers and the police about the case, updating me of recent findings. "Can I come out now? Tell the police everything I know about the case?" I asked while brushing her hair, her head laying on my arm. "I have enough evidence." 

"Evidence?" 

"An earring," I whispered and she jolted to sit, looking at me surprised. "I saw an earring at the scene of the crime." 

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" She picked up her discarded clothes in a hurry. Why? What’s wrong? But before I could ask anything, she had already left. 

The news of the senator’s death was once again on the headlines but this time, my face isn’t the one flashing but the jazz singer’s as the suspect. She admitted to the crime, saying that she had been threatening the senator since he promised that he’ll buy her out of the club. Fantasia club is now under a lot of criticism for prostitution and the unethical labor of the workers. A gun with a silencer was found in her possession, the weapon used for the crime. 

My picture flashed on the screen, not as a suspect, but as the detective who solved all of this. 

There’s only one thing to do now. Go back to my normal life. 

Journalists all came to the office and asked me a lot of questions. The newspaper was filled with pictures of me, claiming that I’m the best detective in town and the phone kept ringing endlessly in the office. I smiled, it hadn’t been a typical day even if I didn’t put an extra cube of sugar in my coffee. 

I was on a call with a journalist from the local newspaper when two uniformed personnel came inside my office. “Detective Nakamoto, we need your help.” And I knew, this is something serious. 

Maybe it already happened two times. I have been to this place before. Thrice. I have been here thrice. The mansion of the Chairman of Otto Holdings. It was his wife who asked me to come here before. Now, the reason was him. 

The officials informed me about the corpse, stabbed in the stomach then shot in the head. The killer wants him dead, I’m sure of that. I saw him a couple of times before and he is a tall man. If someone were to kill him by stabbing his stomach, that person might be close to him. Who would do this? His wife? But she’s already living abroad. His lover perhaps? Someone working for him? 

“Reports said that he’s here with his daughter. We’re trying to locate her.” He had a daughter? They showed a plastic bag with the pieces of evidence found at the crime scene: strands of long hair, cigarette butt, a bullet. Familiar shreds of evidence. 

They let me look around his office, the place polished in cleanliness except for little splotches of blood on the carpet. Old marks of blood. On one side of the wall were torture devices: floggers, leather whips, handcuffs, and wooden cane. Either he’s into serious sexual acts or he’s just a demon who loves torture.

A picture hanging on the wall took my attention. A happy family. The young-looking chairman was standing behind his estranged wife who looked really happy and youthful. On her lap is a young girl with such angelic features. Bright shining eyes. Then a familiar thing caught my attention.  

The gold flower earring was shining on my hand. The same earring the little girl is wearing in the picture. Why do I feel like I’ve been chasing the wrong suspect all along? I drank some beer, seated by the edge of my desk when the door opened. Before I could tell that the office was closed for the day, a strong scent of a woman’s perfume hit my nose. Roses. The familiar smell of roses. Y/N. 

She removed the black coat she had on, revealing a red wrap-around dress that shows some skin below her neckline and stops midthigh. Her hair has gotten shorter since the last time I saw her. Lips deep red. Her heels click-clacking against the hardwood of my office. A sheer lace thigh-high stocking completed her look. 

Her hand slipped on my neck, leaning close to whisper in my ear “Long time no see, hotshot.” My heart beating wildly against my chest. Her smell. That addicting smell. Her lips went to mine. Her taste. A deadly combination of alcohol, cigarette, and mint. “I missed you, Yuta.” She whispered in that erotic voice, fingers heading south my shirt. 

I took the glass of alcohol to relieve the parching of my throat, finishing the contents before holding her by the waist. “It’s you, isn’t it?” A smirk escaped her lips. “You killed the chairman.” I should have been aware the moment it smelled like roses in the chairman’s house. “You’re his daughter.” The same eyes as the girl in the picture. “Why…?” 

My chest suddenly felt tight. Like someone just punched my heart. I gasped for air. Mouth burning as if on fire. She just sat on the chair, crossing her legs while watching me. “Because he promised mom that he’ll take care of me.” She flexed her fingers, checking her nails. “I hate people who don’t fulfill their promises.” 

Promises. The same thing the jazz singer said about the senator. “You…” I coughed blood. “You also killed the senator.” It makes sense now. She came to me. She wanted me there. She pretended to help me. The earring. Her reaction. The taste of mint and cigarettes. “Why? Why me?” My legs feel numb that I fell on the floor. 

“Isn’t it your fault why mom left my dad? Why I’m in hell because of him?” It wasn’t a husband. It was her dad. He really is a monster. “Think of this as a little gift. You’ve became famous. Everyone will know that you died.” Her fingers glide on the edge of the desk, placing a small white pill beside the glass. “They just wouldn’t know how.”  

I called for her name but she just stared at me with an evil look in her eyes. “I sincerely liked you, Yuta. I even believed that we could be together.” 

“We can.” But every word felt like a thorn in my chest. “I love you.” 

The corner of her lips curled up, kneeling beside me. “But you’re also like them. Promising things and not actually doing it.” I grasp her arm, words not coming out of my mouth. She took her phone. “Mrs. Hall, the work is done.” She stared right into me with cold eyes. “Detective Nakamoto is gone.” 

Her lips were as red as rose as she smirked at me. Her dress, red. The color of blood. 

The memory of when I first saw her came to me. The same smell of roses. The gold flower earrings on her ears. The same color as blood telling me that she’s bad news. 

I should have listened. 

But it’s too late. 

She is indeed trouble. 

The kind of trouble that will be the death of me. 

Like a sweet poison. She’s a poison. Addicting. Deadly. 

And then everything went black.  

[besanii]

I am LOVING the Double Happiness AU and it made me start rewatching all of Pillow Book, so if you're taking prompts, do you think anything similar to the fengjiu handkerchief scenes would happen in this AU?

Extra 08: Handkerchief | previous parts here

“Dajiu…are you and Er-dianxia in love?”

Wei Wuxian chokes on his tea. 

“What?” he splutters, setting his teacup down and staring at Jin Ling incredulously. “What are you talking about, you silly chicken?”

“A-die says that he and A-Niang got married because they are in love,” he says. “And everyone says you and Er-dianxia are getting married. So you must be in love right?”

He leans forward until his upper body is stretched across the table and his legs dangle over the edge, watching Wei Wuxian fumble for words with an expectant look on his little face. 

“Uh…” Wei Wuxian scratches his head. How do you completely destroy an innocent child’s romantic notions of love and marriage in the nicest way possible? “I don’t know?”

The little face scrunches up in confusion.

“Why not? I think you are.”

“Oh?” Wei Wuxian says, both shocked and amused at the declaration. “And what would you know? You’re only three hundred years old! Don’t tell me you’re in love with someone already.”

Jin Ling shrugs. 

“A-Niang said that she knew A-die was in love with her because he would always go really red and do really stupid things when she talked to him,” he says matter-of-factly. “And Dajiu does that every time you see Er-dianxia too.”

“Hey!” Wei Wuxian cries, swatting him lightly across the top of the head. “I do not! I’m nothing like your father! I can’t believe Shijie would say that about me.”

Jin Ling dodges the swipe of his hand and sticks out his tongue.

“Jiujiu says the same,” he tells him. “And so does Siming-xingjun. And Taizi-dianxia. And—”

“Has everyone been talking about me behind my back?” Wei Wuxian wails. He drops his head into his hands. “What did I do to deserve this?”

A small hand pats him on the head comfortingly as he groans and slumps over the table, head pillowed on his arms. Great. Just great. Now he’s the laughing stock, the gossip fodder for the entire Nine Heavens. How is he meant to show his face in public from now on? 

And why the hell does everyone seem to think he’s in love with Lan Wangji anyway? Because he gets flustered around him? Who doesn’t? And besides, Lan Wangji is deliberately trying to fluster and embarrass him in public, so it really isn’t his fault! 

The patting on his head turns to tugging.

“Dajiu, Dajiu!” Jin Ling whispers loudly. “Er-dianxia is coming!”

“What?” Wei Wuxian ducks under the table. “Where is he? Did he see me?”

Jin Ling cranes his head to get a better look. “He’s still at the entrance with A-Niang and Taizi-dianxia. Should I call them over?”

“No!” Wei Wuxian hisses. 

He glances around for another exit, but the garden they’re in is enclosed on all sides without only one point of entry and no other means of escape. Even his original form would not escape notice like this. He’ll have to find another way to hide—

“Jin Ling,” he whispers. “Hide me!”

Before Jin Ling can respond, a pale blue handkerchief flutters to the ground where Wei Wuxian had been crouching. Startled, Jin Ling quickly hops off the table to grab it, just as Jiang Yanli, Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen arrive.

“A-Ling?” Jiang Yanli says, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Jin Ling kicks the handkerchief further under the table and leaps to his feet, bowing to all three of them.

“Taizi-dianxia, Er-dianxia, A-Niang,” he says. “A-Ling is just…having tea.”

He winces when their attention turns to the teacups on the table. Teacups, plural. The glint in Jiang Yanli’s eyes tells him his mother is not in the least convinced, but she decides to humour him and play along.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” she says. “Would you mind if we joined you?”

Sweat trickles down the back of his neck; he grins, all teeth and nerves and nods. Lan Xichen smiles at him as they take their seats.

“How have you been, Jin Rulan?” he asks, nodding his head in thanks as Jiang Yanli passes him a cup of tea. “Have your studies been progressing well?”

Wei Wuxian peers up at them from his spot on the ground. From this angle, all he can really make out is the edge of the stone table and the line of one long, white-clothed leg, but now that they’re all sitting down, they will probably be here for a while. He sighs and settles down for a long wait.

Damn it, did that kid really have to stomp on my head, he mutters angrily. I swear, once we get out of this, I’m going to—

He looks up to see a pair of amber eyes watching him and gulps. 

Oh no, Wei Wuxian thinks, panicking. He doesn’t know it’s me right? Right? There’s no possible way he could know! Just play dead!

He closes his eyes and holds his breath as long fingers brush against his body, wrapping around him gently to lift him from the ground. Somewhere behind him, Jin Ling claps his hands to his mouth to stifle a gasp. When he next opens his eyes, he’s at eye level with Lan Wangji, dangling from two fingers.

“Where did that handkerchief come from, Wangji?” Lan Xichen asks.

Wei Wuxian sticks his tongue out at Lan Wangji and pulls a face, because why not—it’s not like he can see him anyway. 

“It’s mine,” Lan Wangji says smoothly, cutting off Jin Ling before he can even open his mouth to speak. “I lost it a couple of days ago while I was out taking a walk. I’m not sure how it got here.”

WHAT?! 

Wei Wuxian glances back at Jin Ling, who is bouncing in his seat, fists clenched in front of his chest and lips pressed together tightly. If it were any other situation and Wei Wuxian were not a handkerchief, he would totally be teasing him about looking like he’s about to pee his pants. But instead, he’s dangling from Lan Wangji’s fingers, probably about to pee his own pants out of panic.

Jin Ling, save me! 

Lan Wangji lays him out flat on the palm of one big hand, smoothing over his creases gently. Wei Wuxian blushes and tries not to squirm when his fingers graze over a particularly sensitive spot. Then he’s folded up into a neat little square and being placed in the warm, dark recesses of Lan Wangji’s sleeve—

“AH!” Jin Ling yelps, jumping to his feet, eyes wide as he stares at the handkerchief. Everyone turns to him.

“A-Ling?” Jiang Yanli asks, frowning. “What’s going on?”

She looks at the handkerchief in Lan Wangji’s hand and then back at her son, realisation dawning in her eyes. Jin Ling looks at her, dancing on the spot now, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. Lan Xichen frowns.

“Is there something wrong with the handkerchief, Jin Rulan?” Lan Xichen asks, concerned. Jin Ling’s face turns an interesting shade of puce before he bursts.

“That’s mine!” he yells, pointing at it with a shaking finger. “That’s—”

“A-Ling!” Jiang Yanli gasps. “You mustn’t be rude. Apologies, Er-dianxia, A-Ling seems to be very interested in your handkerchief. Would you mind terribly if we asked to borrow it for a couple of days?”

Lan Wangji looks at the handkerchief in his hand; Wei Wuxian peers up at him from the gap between his arms, folded over his head.

Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—

“I fear I cannot bear to be parted with it,” Lan Wangji says, his face betraying no expression. “It was a gift from a very dear friend of mine.”

And with that, he tucks it into his sleeve. Wei Wuxian scrambles to the edge of the sleeve and peers out at where Jin Ling is staring back in shock, his bottom lip wobbling, and Jiang Yanli looks like she’s trying not to laugh. She puts an arm around Jin Ling’s shoulders and pats his head.

“A-Ling, if it’s that important to Er-dianxia, we shouldn’t go asking him to part with it,” she tells him gently. “Why don’t we get you another one?”

“But—!” He freezes under Lan Wangji’s stony stare, and instantly wilts. “I apologise for being rude, Er-dianxia.”

Lan Wangji shakes his head minutely. “You were not aware, so there is no need to apologise. Now, I’m afraid I have some other business to attend to,” he says. “If you will all excuse me.”

He stands up and bows. The other three stand up to return the gesture.

Wei Wuxian clutches the edge of the sleeve and wails, reaching out to Jin Ling and Jiang Yanli, growing farther and farther away.

Jin Ling! Shijie! Save meeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!

// buy me a ko-fi //

[imjustthemechanic]

The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan Part 17/? - A Miracle Part 18/? - A Matter of Circumstance Part 19/? - Nome Part 20/? - The Future Part 21/? - A Hero’s Welcome Part 22/? - Up to Speed Part 23/? - Expect Further Delays Part 24/? - The Welcome Wagon Part 25/? - Fugitives Part 26/? - A Reluctant Accomplice Part 27/? - Deja Vu

Well, well, well, what’s this?  Peggy doing the exact same thing she just got arrested for?

-

Agent Russel returned to the Automat the next day and sat down at his booth, drumming his fingers on the table and looking around nervously.  It was so obvious that Peggy sent Angie over to discreetly ask if he thought he’d been followed.  From her vantage point behind the counter, she saw him shake his head.  Only then did she and Kay come to join him.

“What did she say?” asked Peggy.

Russel took out the page Kay had given him to give her, and shook his head.  “She didn’t even look at it.  She was, uh… I told her I had a message for her, and she immediately asked if it were from Peggy.”

Peggy didn’t have to ask – she knew those had been Dottie’s exact words.  Russel himself didn’t call her ‘Peggy’, but she knew Dottie did.

“Does she know where I am?” Peggy asked cautiously.

“I don’t know… I don’t think so,” said Russel.  “We haven’t told her much.  But she said to tell you that if anybody’s making deals it’ll be her setting the terms.”

Peggy hadn’t been expecting that.  She glanced at Kay, who also appeared puzzled.  “And what are those?”

“She says she’s willing to rescind her testimony and claim it was coerced,” Russel said, “she’ll even say Jack Thompson beat her up if you want her to.  But you have to get her out of jail and get her in contact with somebody she will specify.  If you try anything funny, she’ll get back in contact with Thompson and Masters.”

Peggy and Kay exchanged another look.  Not at all what they’d had in mind… but was it something they could work with?

Kay seemed to think so.  “In that case,” she said, “we’re gonna need one more favour from you.  Don’t worry, it’s nothing illegal.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Russel said.

“We need you to come up with a reason to unlock the cell door at a specific time,” Kay told him.  “Say, eleven PM tomorrow night.  We’ll do the rest.”

“I think I can figure something out,” said Russel.

“Great,” Kay nodded.

“Leave a message with Angie if you can’t manage it,” Peggy told him.  “We’ll check in before we try to do anything.”

“I will,” he promised.

They left him to eat his lunch in peace, and changed back into street clothes in the employee washroom.

“You sound as if you have a plan,” Peggy said to Kay, as they got back in the car.  They’d left the green Ford at the side of the road somewhere in New Jersey and taken a powder blue Chevrolet from behind a petrol station.  They couldn’t afford to be linked to a specific vehicle.

“I have part of a plan,” Kay replied, taking a pair of sunglasses out of the glove compartment.  These belonged to whoever owned the car, and had therefore been ‘borrowed’ along with it.  “There are drains in the floors of the cells.  I saw them when I was in there.”

“Yes, there are,” said Peggy.  They backed out of the alley and turned onto the street outside.  “They’re far too small for a person to fit through, though.”

“That’s fine,” Kay said.  “I’m told you have some experience navigating the storm drains of New York.  I need you to find a place where we can get down there and find our way to under the cells.”

“I can probably do that,” said Peggy.  “Anything else?”

“Yeah.  See if you can find us some gas masks,” Kay told her.  “Let me know where to drop you off, and then I have to do some shopping.  I’ll meet you back at the same spot in… let’s make it two hours.”

- 

In the evening, they returned to the empty farmhouse in the Pine Barrens.  Peggy had located a manhole they could climb down without being observed, and used a ball of Kay’s knitting yarn to mark the route from there to underneath the police station.  From the drain right underneath it, it was not possible to actually see what was happening in Dottie’s cell – the opening was too small and high above them.  Kay assured her this didn’t matter.  She’d also obtained gas masks and rubber boots, buying both from a man selling questionably obtained army surplus behind a shop.

Kay, meanwhile, had purchased a number of chemicals, including bleach and acetone, and a variety of cooking and baking utensils.  In the farmhouse she put a mask on and did some complicated chemistry, producing a volatile, milky-white liquid that she carefully poured into the now-empty bleach bottle.  Even after that was done, she patiently waited five minutes after capping it for any vapor to disperse before she took the mask off.

“What is that?” Peggy asked, removing her own gas mask.

“Can you guess?” Kay wanted to know.

Peggy considered what she’d used to make it.  “I assume it’s similar to chloroform.”

“Close.  We call it nepenthyl,” Kay replied.  “Release it into an area and it’ll knock everybody out for five to eight minutes.  I don’t have the equipment to make it really pure, so there’s probably some chloroform in there too.  This won’t be enough to actually hurt anybody, though.”

Peggy smiled.  “Did you sit up at night in that little room above the Botticelli Gardens, making the peppery stuff you sprayed me with?”

“Yes,” said Kay.  “I needed non-lethal options.  Who lives and who dies affects the future… I don’t want to kill anybody unless I know they’re going to do evil things.  You have to live, and so does Howard, and Sousa, and Wilkes… and Thompson, even if he’s a pig.”

“So you were joking when you suggested killing Masters,” Peggy observed.

“I suspect Vernon Masters has already done evil things,” Kay told her, “but I’ll look into that later.  I want to cross the big names off my list first.”

Peggy recalled the list of Project Paperclip scientists she’d recited while in jail.  All of them were already most certainly war criminals, still alive only because the government considered them useful… and yet, were they not human beings nonetheless?  “It doesn’t bother you at all?  That you have to kill people to make your better future?”

“You know where I came from.  It took me years to learn how to be bothered by it in the first place.”  She shrugged one shoulder.  “But in this case, no.  I saw the world they helped make.  I lost friends, and my friends lost family, because of their direct successors.  My conscience can handle it.”

- 

There was no message left for them at the Automat the next day, so Peggy and Kay took their equipment down into the drains below the police station and used an old fire hose to make sure the fumes of nepenthyl would go directly through the grate in Dottie’s cell.  Then there was nothing to do but wait.

At a quarter to eleven, they heard footsteps and voices coming from above.  Peggy held her breath and strained her ears to hear.  One of the voices sounded like Agent Russel… or was she imagining it?  She looked at Kay, who pressed a finger to her lips and listened for a moment.

“Agent Russel,” she murmured.  “What brings you here at this time of night?”  A pause.  “The head office wants some full-body photographs of her.  We need a record of scars and other distinguishing marks.”

Peggy kept very quiet.  Kay’s hearing was obviously much better than hers, but this couldn’t possibly be easy.

“Ma’am, please remove your clothing.”  Pause.  “Why, Agent Russel.  Are you trying to seduce me?”  Pause.  “Ma’am, I don’t want to have to force you.”  Pause.  “Really?  Because I think you’d enjoy that.”

Dottie knew.  Of course she did.  She was playing along.

Kay checked her watch, and then set the timer on the valve that would release the nepenthyl.  “Let’s go,” she whispered to Peggy.

They climbed up onto the street, and waited for a taxi to pass before pushing the manhole cover open.  Peggy got out first, and then reached down to help Kay.  They waited silently behind the building while the clock ticked down.  At eleven o’clock, Russel would get tired of Dottie’s taunting and open her cell.  Thirty seconds later, the chemical would release.  Hopefully everybody’s watches were in rough agreement, or this would all go very, very badly.

At three minutes past, Kay said, “now.”

They put on their gas masks and barged into the lobby.

Immediately they heard a scream.  The receptionist was still awake, holding a damp handkerchief over her mouth and nose with one hand, and the telephone receiver in the other.  For a moment she stared at these masked intruders in wide-eyed horror, and in so doing, she let the handkerchief drop.  A moment later she was unconscious on the floor behind her desk.

“Hello?” a tinny voice on the phone asked.  “Hello?  Iris?”

They had to hurry.

They ran down the steps to the holding cells.  The air here, where the majority of the drug was lingering, was still misty, but they could see light up ahead.  Peggy stepped over the unconscious bodies of policemen until she spotted Agent Russel’s blue blazer.  He was lying there still gripping Dottie’s wrist with one hand.  She had fallen on top of him.

Kay pulled out a roll of olive-coloured duck cloth tape and used it to bind Dottie’s hands and ankles, then wrapped more of it around her mouth.  Then she lifted the unconscious woman’s legs while Peggy took her shoulders, and they dragged her back upstairs.

In the lobby the receptionist was still unconscious.  The telephone was still off the hook.

They threw Dottie in the trunk of today’s car – a burgundy Oldsmobile – pulled their masks off, and drove away.

Only then, with everything done, did Peggy allow herself to notice that her heart was beating fit to burst from her chest, or that she was gasping for deep, non-filtered breaths of air.  They’d really just done it – they’d broken Dottie Underwood out of jail for a second time.  If this didn’t work out… if Dottie were recaptured and decided to turn Peggy in again, there’d be no getting out of it.  Once was special circumstances.  Twice was a pattern.

Once they were well away from the police station, they pulled into an alleyway.  When they opened the trunk, Dottie was waking up, but still groggy – Peggy pressed a rag soaked in the nepenthyl against her face to knock her out again.  Then they used the rest of the role of cloth tape to wrap their prisoner up like an Egyptian mummy.  There was absolutely no way Peggy was losing control of her again.

After that, they could take a more leisurely drive back out to their campsite in the abandoned farmhouse.  Nobody seemed to notice them as they passed through small towns on the way, and not enough people went through the Pine Barrens area to notice that three different cars had been parked there in as many days.  Upon arrival, they left Dottie in the trunk and went inside to get what sleep hey could.

“I think we’ll let her talk first,” said Kay, yawning.  “Then we’ll emphasize that we are now in charge, and give her our terms.”

Peggy wasn’t even sure what those were anymore.  “As long as we can have breakfast first,” she said.

- 

In the morning they took their time, at least partially out of spite – Dottie had caused Peggy so many problems over the past couple of years, it served her bloody well right if she had to sit there tied up in a car boot for a few extra hours.  This also afforded them the chance to listen to the radio and get some more news.  The escape of a dangerous criminal did merit a mention, with a description of Dottie followed by an admonition not to underestimate her.

“And now for the news you’ve all been waiting to hear,” the announcer said.  “Captain America is in Washington, DC, for one more day, during which time he will visit the Smithsonian and dine at the White House with President and Mrs. Truman.  After that, he’s off to Annapolis, then Harrisburg, and will complete a tour of New England before heading south again.”

What was Steve thinking while all this went on, Peggy wondered.  Was he thinking of her?  Of his friend in Russia?

What about Daniel?  Peggy had no way of contacting either of them… and might never again.  Wouldn’t that be the easy solution, she thought.  If she never saw either man again, she wouldn’t have to worry about breaking anyone’s heart.

[neverdoingmuch]

I just really love Two Person Love Triangles and Identity Porn. So, maybe a You've Got Mail AU? Or a superhero AU when one of them falls for both the masked hero and the secret identity?

because i love both of these aus i’ve written both!! but they’re pretty long bc i wouldn’t be me if i didn’t plot out an entire fic so the superhero au is here. 

as for the you’ve got mail au, i went off and watched the movie for the first time and i am delighted by your taste anon,,, the au works so well!! 

(okay for some reason tumblr won’t let me indent my bullets so idk how to fix that so big rip)

so we have lan & sons books, a company that prides itself on providing cheap books for everyone to read. think less evil corporation and more we wanted to provide easily accessible books for all people and ended up getting really rich off it

mr lan dadman was meant to be in charge but he ran off and lqr stepped up until lxc was old enough to take over and now lqr just kinda assists lxc when he needs help and does some other work

lqr is definitely the old guy who had a letter thing with this one woman who was enchanting but instead he was chatting to cssr and she was shameless 

anyway lwj works as *random high up job that joe fox has* and his best work friend (and real friend) is jin zixuan

jin zixuan is the heir to some coffee franchise and the two families have a deal which is why you have the cafe inside the bookstores

we gonna give lwj some friends

as for wwx, his mother owned a bookstore, the burial mounds (why did she name it that?? idk she probably told bssr that she wanted to call it that as a joke and bssr tried to call her bluff so she ended up having to call it that a la suibian)

anyway he grew up with his mother and grandmother and they left the store to him (idk what happened to them?? maybe they just retired and are now travelling the world while wwx gets to have the bookstore)

now for the actual plot!!

lwj and wwx met on omegle an instant messaging site and now exchange emails. wwx goes by yiling patriarch and lwj goes by hanguang-jun bc we want that flavour

so they’ve been emailing for years and they never share any personal information - wwx knows that hgj has a pet rabbit but not hgj’s name or his job

as for the significant others?? idk let’s pretend they don’t exist. 

wwx’s best friend nhs, who writes a column for so-and-so, always just comes over to his place and now he’s semi moved in and wwx isnt really sure why he’s here but he is. 

lwj just vibes bc i can’t see him putting up with a patricia unless his uncle  forced him to. even then he’d probably just be ~mysteriously~ gone while she’s home

maybe he has a really annoying pa who thinks its his job to come over and like make him breakfast. it’s su she,, it has to be

so wwx goes into work one morning and wen ning is waiting outside as he always is, ready for him to open and then like ten minutes later wen qing comes in and lastly granny wen comes in

why do they work together?? idk?? granny wen and bssr were close and so the wens and wwx kinda grew up as siblings? yeah i like that let’s go with that

so when cssr decided to go travelling wwx gets left with her store and he kinda knows how to run it but also he doesn’t have enough staff so he ends up hiring the wens (except granny who’s mostly there just to hang out with her family)

bonus: a-yuan always come to the shop after school and wwx gets to recreate the childhood he had with his mother with a-yuan. when the store closes wwx and a-yuan just twirl and twirl until they get too dizzy to stand up and then they lay on the floor and discuss their favourite book they’ve read this week. it’s very sweet

okay so the next day lwj gets to babysit his cousin/uncle/nephew/idk-how-they’re-related-person lan jingyi who is like eight or something?

they go out and hang at a festival and lwj does not buy him a goldfish bc i was very stressed by the way they treated the goldfish in the movie but he does get him balloons and a stuffed toy and plays all the games with him

eventually they’re walking back and see that the small bookstore near the new lan bookstore is hosting a story time so they go inside 

lwj walks in and he’s immediately taken by the atmosphere of the store bc that place was absolutely beautiful and then he hears this voice and follows it around to the back of the store to see the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen in his life sitting on a kinda too small chair with a princess hat? cone? thing on top of his head

he’d planned to stay for like one story and then take jingyi home but he ends up staying for the entire book and it’s definitely not because the guy reading the book smiled at him once or twice

after the story time ends, lwj is reluctant to leave so he ends up letting jingyi pick a bunch of books and looks at a few fancy first edition books with wen qing

and maybe his mother used to love collecting books - the old ones with the yellowed pages and beautiful pictures - and that’s why lwj helps out with his family business,, bc he wants everyone to be able to have books like that (never mind that all their books are like mass produced and lack any sentimentality & the staff dont actually care about the books)

anyway he sees wwx help jingyi pick out books and lets him borrow his handkerchief when he sneezes and lwj’s like oh nooo he’s good with kids too so now he has to talk to him 

so he goes up to buy the books and wwx’s telling jingyi about how much he likes daisies and lwj just blurts out “can i ask what your name is?” and wwx blinks but then smiles and is like i’m wei wuxian, but you can call me wei ying, and i own this store. what about you? and lwj is like wangji, you can call me wangji

wen qing takes one look at lwj and the way he’s staring at wwx and goes you’re going to come back aren’t you and lwj is trying so hard not to just run away so he just ignores her but then she mentions something about lan books and he’s Panicking and jingyi almost says that he’s a lan and lwj just kinda guides him over to a table and then goes back to flirt talk with wwx

anyway wwx ends up going on this big tangent about books and what they mean to people and the whole when you read a book as a child it becomes a part of your identity and who you’re going to become the way nothing else does (and lwj remembers his mother and her books) and then he apologises for going on and lwj is mentally going marry me, but he ends up calling wwx and his mother shameless

but it’s okay!! wwx & cssr are proud of it!

and then yada yada lwj buys the kinda expensive books and ends up awkwardly shepherding jingyi out of the store 

cut to the next day when the lan book store opens properly and lwj ends up telling lqr about how he met wwx and lqr is like >:/ the son of that shameless woman,, how terrible,, it’s okay he won’t be a problem for long bc they’ll be driven out of business. which isn’t the response lwj wanted but lxc seems supportive enough if a bit concerned about how it would work with them as business enemies 

business is already bad for wwx and it’s barely been a week since the lan store opened and he’s pretty bummed out but hopeful that maybe it’s a fluke

then nhs invites him to some fancy dinner with him bc wei-xiong they’re all so boring and smart and have opinions, please don’t make me have opinions so wwx gets dragged along

he ends up talking to lwj at the bar bc how could he not talk to the man who’s standing in front of all that fancy alcohol and getting some fruit juice. (he’d get water but lwj has had to put up with su she all evening so he needs something stronger)

anyway they chat and it’s pleasant but then after wwx gets approached by someone who’s like wow im surprised you’re talking to lan wangji and wwx is like lan?!

cue their passive aggressive argument around the food table complete with caviar and a turkey knife. 

now bc it’s lan wangji,, instead of making scathing comebacks he just makes like factual and to-the-point statements that end up being really bitchy (or does he intend them to be that way? it’s a mix of both of them tbh but in this case he’s definitely being bitchy on purpose) and wwx is spluttering bc that boy does not stand up well against hot and mad people

nhs ends up coming over and defusing the situation but wwx makes a point of stealing the rest of the caviar off lwj’s plate before leaving 

lwj ends up ducking out early as well to avoid su she and emails wwx that night at like 9:45 bc the guilt of being so rude kept him up late and yllz is like oh no that’s so sad ): but impressive! i wish i could zing people,, my brain just turns off the second i need to make a comeback

creative liberties,, wwx is good at teasing but not being genuinely mean? lets go with that

anyway now we get the delightful montage of wwx hiding behind cheese displays and lwj walking out of coffee stores with a newspaper covering his face as they try to avoid each other

when wwx gets in the wrong line at the supermarket lwj comes over and kinda glares the checkout woman into submission and gets her to let wwx use his card which wwx is really conflicted about bc why would he help me?? and once again angry lwj = hot lwj

a few weeks later wwx ends up asking hgj for help bc business isn’t getting any better but refuses to give any details and i refuse to have lwj watch the godfather so lwj just straight up messages him and is like tear that bitch apart

and so wwx decides to tear that bitch apart and asks nhs for help. nhs, fan of the arts and small businesses and local culture, is 100% down for it and writes a scathing article about lan books and how they’re destroying all the aforementioned things nhs cares about

it ends up getting a lot of traction and people show up to protest and wwx even goes on television

lwj ends up seeing the news coverage on the matter while he’s at the gym with jzx

jzx is 100% the guy who goes to the gym just to apathetically walk on the treadmill while lwj jogs

he sees the interview with wwx and lwj is like he’s not this nice in real life and jzx is like you met him?? and lwj is like mn. then jzx is like i bet he’s not as hot and lwj is completely silent but his ears are bright red and that’s how jzx knows that wwx is just that hot

also?? lwj goes on tv and says like three words and he’s kinda annoyed how the news decided to spin that but he also said like three words so what did he expect?

but, despite all the publicity, sales don’t get any better so wwx is like fine can we meet in person and lwj is like sure

he brings jzx along bc he doesn’t know the way there, it’s not because he’s nervous and kind of in love with yllz, it’s because he doesn’t know how to get to the cafe. (it’s two blocks from his apartment)

anyway jzx is like oof man it’s seems like yllz is wwx but he is that hot so not all is lost and lwj is like yikes no not happening im not going in but he also feels bad about standing wwx up so he ends up going in and sitting down in front of wwx

and lwj is like wei wuxian, all this publicity will do nothing to save your business and wwx is like lan wangji who do you think you are (or however that scene goes) but instead of lwj being asked to leave wwx decides he’s not gonna chicken out first so they end up spending like two hours having the most aggressive cup of coffee and chat he’s ever had

lwj is exhausted but he also refuses to give up

but then wwx spits something about how lwj is some cold, heartless suit who doesn’t actually care about or appreciate books so how can he possibly dare to think that he’s better than wwx and that hurts bc lwj had thought that he’d been doing exactly that so he leaves

anyway the next morning wwx is moping around the bookstore bc he didn’t get stood up, he swears. am i not cute enough he moans to wen qing and she’s like your hgj doesn’t know what you look like. but what about my personality? is that cute enough? and wen qing eventually manages to grit out that yes it is cute enough

wen ning comes in and is like are you okay? you got stood up? that’s good! your date might have been the rooftop killer xue yang! he got caught last night! and wwx is like i wish, i just got stood up like a chump

so they ignore each other for a few weeks bc wwx is very hurt and lwj doesn’t know what he’s going to say but wwx ends up caving and emails hgj about how guilty he feels and how even though wwx probably means nothing to lwj, he’s worried that maybe he did hurt lwj and also please hgj i still want to talk to you

now hgj never says a lot, he’s always really succinct and direct but this time he takes the time to write a proper apology. it’s not an explanation bc he doesn’t want to give this up, even if the yllz he thinks he loves is the wwx that he hates, but it is an apology

the next day wwx goes to lunch with granny wen and finally dares to ask her whether it would be okay to shut the store down. he doesn’t want, of course he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t think he can afford to keep it open. granny just tells him that it’s okay and that if the time has come, the time has come

we don’t have to worry about wwx breaking up with anyone, so he just goes home and asks nhs if he can have some space and nhs quickly packs his stuff and goes home. as he stands in the doorway with his last box of stuff he tells wwx that he’s sorry and wishes he could help more and wwx sends him this tremulous smile but manages to hold it together until nhs leaves and then he cries and cries 

the next day he goes back to work and tries to stay bubbly and cheery even as he sees all of his shelves slowly being emptied and people who haven’t stepped foot in his store in six months are telling him what a shame it is and how they wish it didnt have to come to this and wwx is internally screaming

he manages to stave off any actual screaming but when he closes up that day he ends up going to the children’s section of lan bookstore and just as he had thought, none of the staff care about the books, none of them know any books and he ends up recommending a series to some young mother

lwj, who’d spotted wwx and come over to see if whether he was here to pick a fight, comes to the awful realisation that maybe wwx is right about his store lacking heart

he goes home that night and su she tags along even though lwj just wants space and the elevator breaks. he’s sitting there on the ground listening to his neighbour talk about reconnecting with family and the elevator button pressing dude talks about getting engaged and su she is just there whining about his job and the inconvenience and lwj goes fuck this. when the elevator starts working again he grabs his rabbit and goes back down to the ground floor, ignores su she’s shouts, and goes back to his childhood home

wwx gets stuck closing his store down. he looks around at the shelves and tables he’d grown up with and sees his childhood and a-yuan’s and countless moments he’s had with people he’s loved and realises he’s going to lose it all forever. he grabs the bell, the last thing he has left of the store and closes up for the very last time

in the meantime, lwj is living the high life. he hangs out with his bunny, gets to read pride and prejudice for fun and actually manages to get all the way through it and then his brother comes to visit

apparently he’d broken up with jgy bc he was gold digger-esque and had decided to run off with someone richer and lwj is like oh thats so sad ): anyway nmj is right there and he fills your heart with joy and lxc is like have you ever had someone like that? and lwj immediately thinks of wwx and is like fuck

his first order of business is to buy wwx’s shop bc it broke my heart that she didn’t get it back in the og movie and he starts filling it with books again. he buys ten copies of his mother’s favourite books and places them on the shelf by the door and then he sees a book that reminds him of jingyi so gets some of them and he sees a book covered in daisies and thinks of wwx. and slowly, slowly he’s building up his own library, his own store, and this time every single book means something and for once lwj looks out across the floor with pride and satisfaction

his second order of business is to apologise to wwx for being a dick. he buys some daisies and goes to his place and comes in and cooks soup for wwx. lwj apologises and tells him it wasn’t personal and wwx is like that’s not true, it was personal to me and it’s personal to a lot of people and lwj understands that now. he remembers the way he’d filled wwx’s store and left his own touch and bared his heart through each of those books and he understands. he doesn’t actually say this and just tells wwx that he wants to be friends 

lwj considers coming clean about being hgj but he knows now that he definitely loves wwx and knows that wwx currently hates him but damn is it hard not to say anything when wwx is telling him how much he loves hgj

anyway he’s like organise a meeting again with hgj 

i’d say it’s ooc for lwj not to come clean but this is the man who pined for x decades and just didnt tell wwx that his son was alive so like not ooc at all

so lwj decides he’s going to woo wwx as best as he can and organises to meet up with yllz and then goes and meets with wwx and they end up going to hang out and for some strange reason, even though wwx keeps getting stood up, he doesn’t seem to care too much. he keeps agreeing to meet hgj and when he doesn’t show is more than happy to spend the rest of his day with lwj

and slowly, they start to get closer. wwx takes a sip of lwj’s coffee and lwj buys him daisies. wwx brings him an interesting book and lwj tells him about his mother. they chat freely about hgj and lwj is happy for the first time in a long time

eventually lwj organises the final meeting. wwx is really confused about the place he picked but he’s hopeful that maybe this time hgj will show. after wwx and lwj’s farmers market date ends, lwj ends up asking wwx if he could love lwj and wwx is like you put me in such an uncomfortable situation. ie stammering and blushing and eventually going oh no ill be late and running off

anyway a couple hours later wwx finds himself standing outside his old bookstore and he refuses to look at it bc he doesn’t want to see what it’s become but then, through the open door of the store, a bunny hops out and over to wwx

lwj comes running out after it calling out its name (bichen?? flopsy?? rabbit?? one of them) and wwx looks up and is like oh,, it’s you, i’d hoped it was you and he’s all teary and lwj has a handkerchief that he’d embroidered himself (with gentians of course) and he’s like dont cry yllz and then they kiss and it’s beautiful

bonus: lwj takes wwx inside the store and shows him everything and explains the meaning behind every book that they’ve picked and then wwx does cry for real bc there is definitely an entire two walls dedicated just to wwx

do they open the store as a bookstore again and work together? does wwx end up writing books?? idk up to you. i like the idea that they open the store for story time and sell children’s books but lwj still works with lan & sons to get some heart in their stores and wwx works on his own books in his spare time

[mercurygray]

Tea and Sympathy - Ron Speirs

Seated on a rickety office chair that had probably seen as many battles as he had, Ron gave another sniffle and felt in his pockets for a handkerchief. 

The jeep ride in from the front had played hell with his cold, and his nose was drippier than ever. Why the hell had Dick sent him back to Regiment with the damn reports? Had he really looked so pitiful as to need time inside?

He was just feeling around his pockets for the second time when he felt a sudden warmth near his face, and the presence of another person - a female person, if the faint smell of her perfume was any indication. Looking up revealed one such, a businesslike young woman of twenty-five or so, wearing OD trousers tucked into infantry leggings and a very smartly tied tie under her standard issue pullover sweater, holding out a cup of something hot. He glanced at the cup and then at her, weighing his options and wondering if this was some byzantine test of manners visited upon on all officers presenting themselves at HQ.

"Thanks, I'm fine." He pushed himself further back into the chair and cursed, silently, that his blasted handkerchief was nowhere to be found in his pockets and now that he'd been sitting here in the relative warmth for a quarter hour, it felt like the entire contents of his sinuses were threatening to come out his nose.

"It wasn't a question," she said, almost bossy, waiting until he reached up, a little stunned at being ordered about, and took it.  "Tea and lemon, for the cold."

No sooner had he taken the cup than she reached into the back pocket of her trousers and produced a handkerchief, offering that as well, a square of OD  cotton that he could only take gratefully, balancing the cup on the chair beside him to turn aside, placing her out of the line of fire, and finally, blessedly, blow his nose.

"Much better," she pronounced, standing over him with the slightly territorial energy of a teacher at school, determined to see that her young charge did as he was told, absolutely unafraid of him. "Now, drink. No excuses."

It had been a long time since England and the last time he'd been this close to a woman, and the truth was after the last several months of relentlessly giving orders, he was finding the bossiness and take-no-prisoners attitude startlingly attractive.

There seemed little point in pursuing it now, though - he was a sniffling mess who hadn't shaved in a week,  in an hour he would be back to the line, and she would remain here for some clean-shaven staff type to romance. Probably had a boyfriend already. He sniffled a little and returned to the tea. It was heavenly, sitting with the cup of steam under his nose, and that tiniest hint of citrus that he thought he could now almost smell. Coffee could do many wonders, but it wouldn't, couldn't, do this.

She observed him, hands casually on her hips, until he'd drained the cup, sniffling again and relying, once more, on his borrowed handkerchief.  He felt sheepish, handing back the mug, and attempted a smile.

"They don't award medals for suffering, Captain," she said crisply, taking back the mug.

What on earth does that mean? "I'll...keep that in mind."

"Keep it, I've got others."

He gestured with it in thanks, tucking it into his pocket. "Any idea when the Colonel will be free?"

"I'll let him know you're here." A slight smile formed on her lips as she watched Ron's face roll, completely transparently, through the realization that she'd purposefully delayed his meeting for the sole purpose of babying him into drinking a cup of tea, and, mission accomplished, turned on her booted heel and marched into the office to announce him.

Oh, that did it. There were initials on the handkerchief, or a laundry tag. He'd find out one way or another and come back after the blasted cold was gone - and he'd had a chance to shave.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Black - Chapter 7

Yes, I still am not done with this irregular, random, weird travel blog...

Fandom: the Hobbit

Characters : Thorin x OC, many others

Setting: Before the unexpected journey lol

Rating : Mature (not yet...still...but a little)

Warnings: none, it's just light-hearted silliness

It's a longish chapter (around 4k words...sorry)

“All is well, Master Dwalin. Do not distress yourself!” She called out to the vision of prowess stomping towards her.

She would not necessarily be welcome here, she knew, but it made her feel safer already to know that, at the very least, they would not have looked on as she was raped and murdered by some stranger.

“The lass has chased away a grown man with a tree branch. Aye, she might be well assorted to Oakenshield.” Balin laughed, carrying the infant easily back to the settlement. She remembered the impossible weight in her arms, pushing down on her bones and compressing her flesh, and she was amazed at the strength of these beings.

“May I borrow a knife?” She asked the two warriors who were apparently waiting for her to take her back into the confines of the settlement, Thorin looking positively eager to take her to safety and slightly annoyed at the delay.

Dwalin handed her a small blade and she knelt again, opening a small wound in her forearm and sticking the bloodied knife-edge into the ground. It was a hungry earth, she knew for she felt its thirst, and old nan had told her that dung and blood fertilised the soil best.

“What are you doing, lass?” Dwalin approached, cautiously, suspicious of an obviously insane woman with a knife. “Gardening, Master Dwalin, gardening.” She replied with a small chuckle. Maybe, she could get some seeds out of those vegetables she had bought. When dawn broke, she would inspect the wilderness around the Mountains in search of herbs and fruits she could use for her other, meagre talents in hopes that she could be of service in any other way.

“Mistress? Mother asks what is to be done about the food you have brought…” The blonde kid came up to them, exclaiming: “Oi, mistress, you’re hurt!” and offering a rather dubious handkerchief right away.

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” She looked to Thorin, seeking his help in explaining. “She does things differently.” Thorin said tonelessly but inclined his head at her to get her to answer the original question of his nephew.

“Come, Mistress, you must be cold. Really, uncle, to have that poor woman sitting on the cold ground.” Fíli seemed outraged and dragged her away towards the settlement, shaking his head at an equally indignant Thorin.

“So…about that food.” The young man asked again, pointing at the cart nobody had touched hitherto. “It was a gift…”

Thorin had said it would be welcome, but maybe they distrusted her that much? “I have purchased it from a merchant from the Shire and Thorin has been there all the time, I have…there is…it’s good.” She stammered, biting her lip, she had never been so far from home and comfort; she felt painfully outmatched by all these gloriously self-possessed people around her.

“Oh yes, nobody said there was anything wrong with it. No…but it’s yours, Mistress. Uncle said you’ve bought it.” Fíli replied gently, steering her to a nearby bench and twisting his moustache. Evidently, he was trying on the role he would have to fill sooner or later; she hoped it would be later, much later, for she could not even envision the death of one Thorin Oakenshield.

The very man approached and lifted his hands when she wanted to defer that decision to him. “You bought it with your past, woman, you decide of its future.” He declared and waited.

“What are you talking about, Master Dwarf?” She mumbled, waving at the cart and the foodstuffs within. “These are offerings to the venerable royal family and their people.” She spoke to the young prince, handing him what little was left of her savings.

“Woman, did you just hand him your money?” Thorin roared. “Yes, Master Thorin, didn’t you?”

“That’s not the same thing.” He protested. “I am not a kept woman, Master Thorin, and I am not your guest. Your people cannot bear another idle mouth to feed, another idle body to warm, isn’t that the truth you tried to hide from me?”

He retreated one step, startled by her candid words. “That first night, you took me in, you gave me food.” He murmured.

“And I will continue to do so, Master, I will forage and hunt, I’m used to walking to markets to sell my wares and I shall go on doing just that. I have survived on my own for a long time and I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

Her pride shone bright in that second as she went toe-to-toe with a king, with a man she respected, with a person she venerated for his kindness and generosity. “I want you to be my guest.” He said, just a tiny bit petulant.

“And I’m telling you that I don’t want to be your guest. You are my master…and my friend. Have I ever offered you less than my service?” She barked back, proud and strong, standing in the middle of the courtyard with her cart.

“I have made a vow, Thorin-king, I have promised hard work and humility to purge the sins of my forefathers. Have you forgotten about that? I shall not renounce my promise to the creator.” She went on, softer.

“You are delivered. Men don’t work for the likes of me.” Thorin retorted, with deceiving calm.

“I am not a man though, am I? All kinds of people work for their king if their king works for them, and women have worked for a man since the beginning of time.” She smiled. “I am not a slaver!” He exploded.

“They are not your people.” As soon as he saw her face fall, he knew that he had gone too far, that his words and his pitiful mastery of them had failed him; like wild horses, they had run off and trampled someone he cared for.

“Thorin!” The princess, beautiful and wreathed in flames of just anger, stormed into the yard and let both her palms clash heavily onto his broad chest.

“Do not listen to him, he did not mean it the way he’s spoken it; Thorin has ever been a mulish, overly proud, misspeaking fool.” She whispered to the frail creature huddled in her hurt as a babe in a blanket.

“It runs in the family.” Thorin hissed and earned another withering, punitive stare from his sister.

“Your gifts are very welcome. What he means to say is that we do not want to be seen as the kind of people who take advantage of the…goodwill of a gentle maiden such as you. We are said to be ruthless and greedy.” Her eyes went dark with sadness. “There are things that may point into that direction. If you were to sacrifice that tender life of yours in service to a…homeless people, it would shame us.” Her royal hand rested heavy and solid on the frail and shivering one.

“I would be part of a great destiny, of retribution, of redemption, if you permit, Milady.” She whispered, begging under her breath. “Such faith have you in a king without a crown, without a realm, without an army?” The princess was surprised.

“Such faith have I in the person who’s led me out of misery and through peril to a safe haven, yes.” She replied firmly.

“Harbul…” Thorin sighed, much to the dismay of his sister and the onlookers. He had called her “mudlike”, which was in itself not a compliment, but when she looked up to question him on his choice of name, he smiled: “Creature of mud, creature of soil, fertile daughter of water and earth.”

She bowed to him, accepting “mud” as her name, as her epithet, as her identity, amongst those strange people who were so private with their own names. Her previous name was strange and outlandish to them, so she encouraged the outraged crowd to address her by a word of their own language.

They were so proud of their heritage that it was unimaginable to them to feel honoured to be given another name in a foreign language, but she hoped that at least Thorin would understand. “I am sorry.” He murmured as he took her arm to go into the dining hall, small and cramped as it might be. So, he did not understand.

“If I had been less hasty, if my words had been less careless, please believe me that I’d have bestowed a name worthy of your courage and your loyalty upon you. I’d have praised your beauty and your good heart rather than harp on your own erroneous vision of yourself. I am truly sorry.” He whispered into her ear, while his sister still looked at him as if he had crawled out under a rock.

“Don’t…I love it.” She beamed up at him, trying out her own name tentatively. “I feel like I’ve arrived.”

“From dust to mud? I don’t want that, I don’t want you to stay a slave to ghosts forever.” He sounded exasperated by her meekness. “Some of us are born for greatness, harbingers of momentous change and icons of a bright future, Master Dwarf. You are more than just a man, you’re a promise, you’re an oath, you’re the physical embodiment of an excellence spanning centuries and millennia…and some of us…are not.”

“Arzâm, that’s what I should have named you.” He groaned. “Woman, growled impatiently, has worked perfectly for us this far, no?” She grinned, then, overcome with curiosity, she asked: “What does it mean then?”

“It means “faith”; despite everything you say about yourself, it is what I think of first when I think of you.”

“And do you think of me often?” She laughed. “Yes.” He gave back in a serious, ponderous tone.

“Then I shall accept that name as well. Faith, it suits me well.” She was still smiling, shedding her old skin and everything she had been born into with an easy shrug that confused and amazed Thorin.

At the closed door though, she hesitated, then stopped completely.

“I…Should I go in there? I can eat out here.” The woman henceforth and forevermore known as Faith offered.

“You are not a dog, woman, come in. There are still dwarrows who want to meet you…and they’re pushing against this very door from the wrong side.” With an impatient call through the wooden partition inviting unseen people to please clear the doors, Thorin gave it a hearty shove.

Excited murmurs and threatening growls erupted in a sound like waves crashing onto the shore.

“I am unwelcome.” She whispered, biting her lip to keep her calm while Thorin moved with impervious determination through the throng of people towards a table where his nephews were already seated.

“Let me leave, Master Thorin, I beg you.” His hand only tightened around her arm as he pushed her forward, feeling miserable because he was treating her like a prisoner now, but she would not just scurry away to eat scraps of the food she had bought herself. “Don’t be afraid; these are the sounds living, breathing beings make…Okay, dwarrows might be a little louder than the fine people you’ve grown up with, but…” He gave her a crooked smile.

It was true; she was overwhelmed with the sheer volume of the cacophony of life around her. After years of wandering in an endless, wooded tomb, she had almost forgotten what vivacity sounded like.

“If you go any slower, uncle, she’ll be dead of starvation before you make it to the table. We’ve all seen the beautiful maid you’ve brought along with you, now make haste, we want to eat.” The younger one of the nephews called out and ducked behind his brother to avoid Thorin’s glaring look. Only, he had not minded his own mother who gave him a sharp rap on the head that might have broken Faith’s neck from the look of his head flying forward and almost knocking over a pitcher.

“Friends, kinsmen, join me in welcoming Mistress Faith who not only has provided this dinner, but, as I am told, has also chased away a potential intruder AND tried to hold a pebble.” Dís announced, apparently silently agreeing with her son’s assessment that Thorin’s dignified and regal entrance was basically just annoying and boring.

General laughter from the surrounding crowd made Faith look around in wonderment and interest. “Why is that funny? That infant was adorable, why wouldn’t I try to hold it?” She looked up at Thorin questioningly. “They’re heavy and notoriously difficult. Your new friend here was a terror.” He grinned as they reached the table, nodding at his sister.

“I was absolutely nothing of the sort; I was a proper angel compared to my older brother.” She spat back and, for a moment, Faith thought that she would stick out her tongue in defiance.

“Fíli was a fussy baby, but Kíli was not all that difficult.” Dís informed her as she pushed the woman down on a chair with a force that made her bones creak. “They must have been so adorable.” Faith sighed under her breath.

“They were okay.” Thorin grumbled, but his eyes were warm. She remembered the stories he had told her on the road about their first weapons and their first ponies; she had traded him old women’s tales for recollections of his beloved family and so she knew that he loved those rambunctious boys more than his own life.

“Also, that baby was not difficult at all.” She turned back to Thorin. “It tried to scalp you!” He exclaimed. “Nonsense, it merely played with my hair…It was charmed to find someone who let it touch their hair.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Well…you may touch mine, for good luck, as you say. Would that make you feel less nervous?” It was a surprising offer and she shook her head immediately. “Oh no, I won’t touch your hair, in the dining room, in front of everyone!” She hissed under her breath which made him break into booming laughter.

Fiddling around with his braids for a second, he pressed a small metal bead into her hand under the table.

“For good luck.” He winked. “Thorin-king, you cannot do that.” She blushed. “I am king; I can do what I want.”

Being back home with his people brought out that other side of him as well, she noticed; he seemed to have a streak of wicked, quick-witted humour that made her head spin. She knew this to be a joke for she was fiercely aware that she had only known one single person in all her life who had lived observing a more extensive array of rules and restrictions than her: Thorin.

“Be true to your name, woman, and have faith in me, have faith in my people. We are a private folk, suspicious, distrustful, wary of outsiders, but we also know a gem from a pebble, and we value loyalty above all else.” He said with that weighty, serious tone that made him sound so much like a king of old.

He served her prime cuts and a good heap of vegetables. “Eat your greens, Thorin-king!” She whispered as she understood that he was trying to smuggle her his portion as well. Despite the face that he made at her, he shoved a fork full into his mouth grimly and stared her down defiantly.

“Thank you, Mistress.” Fíli bowed his head at her with a cheeky smile. “At your service, prince.” She replied, her deference marred by the grin she couldn’t suppress. “Do you want to walk with Kíli and me after dinner? We can show you the others.” The prince offered eagerly. “Others?” Faith was immediately interested.

“Don’t overtax her.” Thorin cut in, stern, afraid that too many dwarrows at once might still make her run for the hills.

“Oh, please say I may go, Master Dwarf. Please.” She begged, grabbing his arm with both her hands. “Well, my nephews can open the doors for you.” He said with a sly smile and had she not been in the dining room in presence of a good many of his subjects, she might have smacked his arm for his cheeky insolence.

“Will you heap blessings on them as well?” Thorin asked, a tinge of jealousy piqued within his heart. “I shall beg the great creator to be merciful to those who would follow you into the great unknown, yes.”

“That great creator you always talk about…who is he?” Thorin shoved away his plate and turned to her fully, to the surprise and confusion of the other people in the room. “Well, he’s the great creator. We are not given his name, Thorin-king. He is one and he is many. He is the source of everything.”

Thorin made a gesture that encouraged her to go on. “He’s the beginning and from him flowed all powers and things, which in turn created new things. Creatures of mud. Creatures of stone.” She smiled up at him with open warmth.

“We believe that Mahal has created us. Hewn us from stone and Eru Ilúvatar gave us consciousness.” Thorin murmured in a low voice to her. Faith raised her hand and puckered her lips in strenuous concentration. This sounded familiar…had she perverted her nan’s stories? Had she diluted the tale?

“He is one and he is many, from him all things sprang, the holy maker of things, fashioner of chains and forger of wonders…the name escapes me, Thorin-king, but I might have heard of that Mahal.” She whispered, more to herself than to him until she became aware of his burning gaze upon her focused face. “Yes, I might have known that story…” She repeated.

“That’s a part of the great creator that had no bearing on my life though, I am sorry.” She went on, apologetic. “The story doesn’t end there; Yavanna, his wife, is queen of the earth, bringer of fruits, protectress of all things that grow.” Thorin interrupted her.

“So, you’ve given the different parts of the great creator names?” – “It’s what people say…there are many names and a lot of stories, I thought you might like them.” He smiled gently; he had seen how she was grounded in her faith and how she thrived on stories and tales. This was a gift to her, and he hoped that she would not be offended.

“Hmmm, interesting.” Faith was consumed by curiosity now. “So, you were hewn from stone?” – “No, not me.” He laughed.

“Durin then? Was Durin hewn from stone?” She asked, remembering that mystical first king. “Yes…”

“And he had a long beard?” Faith beamed up at him. “Yes, he had a long beard.” Thorin chuckled, amazed by her naïve fascination and earnest wish to learn; to her, all of this were stories, fairy tales and pretty lies, but his people had cherished and passed on those accounts for generations.

Faith’s mind was churning with questions; to her, there had always been a notion of sacrifice and devotion to her observance of her belief and she wondered what might please this Mahal.

“Have I leave to go to the nearest river in the morning?” She asked Thorin as their plates were cleared away. “What for?”

“Have I leave to use one of your furnaces?” She went on, not answering his question.

“I accept your faith, I accept your vision of the creator, and I hope they might accept my way of honouring them.”

She would go and collect loam, purify it to clay and turn it into pottery, he understood. Offerings had ever been her way of expressing and observing her faith; he had seen her twice bleed onto the ground and a hundred times call out to the great creator while offering her time, her tears, and her pain to him.

“What for?” He repeated slowly. “To give thanks for the walls that encase me, for the man who’s saved me, for the creation of this beauty that fills my soul to the brim, Master Thorin. I have seen great wonders, they were gifts, and gratitude is expected.”

When he didn’t reply, Faith went on softly: “I have surrendered my life to you, I have surrendered my name to you, let me worship the way I always have and hope that it finds grace.”

Industry and creation had ever been pleasing to Mahal, Thorin thought and he could barely imagine that any Valar could be displeased with such ready and absolute devotion. One could have believed that her soul was easily swayed, but as he looked into her eyes, he discovered that her belief had only deepened thanks to his words.

“I’ve told you about Yavanna because she sounds like someone you’d feel…close to.” Thorin went on, disregarding his nephews who were chomping at the bit to get the poor woman away from him. No doubt, they had some mischief in mind.

“Many times you’ve called me king of stone, immutable and intransigent…” He went on. “Strong and steady.” She corrected.

“Well, allow me to call you queen of growth then, queen of thriving things, queen of change.” The way his face melted into a dazzling smile made her feel weak in the knees; he was the fire and the smith in equal measures, and she would never grow accustomed to the flashing blaze that engulfed her unexpectedly.

“Let us call you queen of moving away from the grumpy old dwarrow.” Kíli said cheekily and pulled her by the arm, almost tearing the whole limb out of the socket. “Gently!” Thorin warned his nephew, who apologised but kept drawing her away.

“So…how do you find uncle?” Kíli asked as soon as they were – almost – out of earshot.

“What are you talking about? He’s just over there! I had no reason to search for him this far.” Faith replied with a smirk.

“Haha, funny, no, but…how do you find him?” The young prince insisted, not discouraged by her side-stepping.

“I find him much restored in his health and mood now that he’s amongst his kin.” Faith provided amiably.

“Mahal’s beard, woman, do you think he’s cute?” Ah, the impatience of the young, Faith thought, increasingly enjoying this little game. “No, prince, there is no creature on this earth less probable to be called “cute” than your uncle, the king.” She chuckled.

“Really? Look at him, look at the fuzzy beard…Is it the beard? Really, he could grow a proper one, not like Kí here…He has his reasons to wear it short…It is the beard, isn’t it?” Fíli plunged into the conversation.

Faith wondered how good the king’s hearing was and how he’d feel about her being asked inappropriate questions about him by his intrusive but adorable nephews. She also knew that beards and hair were not up for discussion usually.

“There is nothing wrong with the king’s beard.” – “You can call him Thorin, he’s not here…You can call him everything you like…” Fíli was an irreverent creature, Faith thought, cheeky to a fault, but she felt warm affection wash through her immediately, nonetheless.

“I shall call the king what he is. A king. Your most revered uncle. A man deserving of respect and esteem.” She said severely.

“You sound like mother…Come on, give us something. Any little thing, you like the beard then?”

“He’s a good man.” Faith said slowly. “But do you think he’s handsome? I feel like he hasn’t been told that he’s handsome lately. Mom tells him he looks like a raincloud that was stuffed inside a rotten tree trunk for too long.”

Faith knew that it was a trap, but she couldn’t help herself. “I am pretty sure that the honourable princess would never say anything quite as callously untrue to her brother, the king.” She cut in sharply.

“You should tell him that he’s handsome.” Kíli looked at her with huge, wet eyes pleadingly. “No, I should most definitely not do anything of the sort. Are you out of your mind, good prince?”

Faith bit her lip, that was no way one was to speak to a prince.

“I am not. He’s my uncle, I am fond of him…and he’s lonely. Also, he’s worn his best tunic tonight and you did not comment on it, did you? Screaming at him and all.” Now, he was making her feel guilty; she had indeed almost argued with Thorin tonight.

“Durin blue and all…” Fíli added. “You know Durin?”

“The one hewn from stone with the long beard, yes. I have not had the pleasure as that was before my time, but yes, I have been made aware of him.” Faith replied cautiously; she knew not if she was allowed to talk about this to other people.

“Do you think him ugly? It’s okay if you do, many of your kind do. We had just hoped that you’d…cheer the old boulder up with your feminine guiles.” They seemed dejected by her words and Faith was quick to want to reassure them. One would have thought that she had insulted their Mahal and Durin by not answering their question and their sad eyes broke her heart.

“Who? The king? He’s the most beautiful creature in the world.” Faith almost stumbled over her own words.

“Oh really? Can you tell him? Please, tell him.” Strong hands closed around her arm. They must have been adorable as children, Faith thought again, no wonder Thorin loved them with such fierce intensity and tender indulgence.

“To his face?” Faith was doubtful that this would be a good idea. “To his goofy, fuzzy face, yes.” Kíli laughed.

“Kí…Let’s go meet a friend of ours. I think you’ll like him.” Fíli grabbed her sleeve ever so delicately and gave it a gentle tug, apparently afraid to damage his uncle’s plaything. “I am not made of sugar.” Faith laughed.

“You have no idea what they’re like if you dare…touch, take, damage or steal what they consider theirs. Great-granddad, he was…intense.” Fíli chuckled, but there was a darker, painful truth behind his light tone. Faith retraced their family tree, potential centuries of history, reciting under her breath: Thorin II, son of Thráin II, son of Thrór. What had happened to them? Thorin had spoken at length about the family that lived, about the people she’d meet, but he had avoided the subject of his forefathers as much as possible. What did the prince mean by “intense”?

“I am not his. Not in that way. I am a tool, not a valued possession.” Faith tried to protest, but heavy dwarven brows raised in evident mockery stopped the gush of indignant words immediately.

“Yeah, that’s probably why I can already feel our mother’s breath on my neck…Uncle didn’t want to let you go, let you out of his sight…as if we’d ever let any harm come to you.” Fíli puffed up with wounded pride. “The king says you have a tendency to mislay and lose your…things. Toys. Ponies.” Faith dared interject.

“This is different! Mother would…oh, she’d be furious and so would uncle. No, we’ll take you to see Ori and let uncle introduce you himself to the rougher fellows. Do you have any valuables?” Kíli asked in a nonchalant tone as they led her down a narrow corridor.

“No?” Faith patted the pockets of the dress that didn’t belong to her, just in case the previous owner had left anything in them.

“Good, because Nori will pick your pockets.” They both laughed. “Oh…maybe I should have brought something of value then?” Faith felt bad and slightly irritated at the boys for not having warned her beforehand.

“Here, it’s your own coin you handed to me so gallantly. It will make the old boy happy.” Fíli handed her a coin and she tucked it away in one of the skirt pockets diligently. “You’re a good sort, Mistress.” Kíli grinned, giving her a small slap on the shoulder that propelled her a few feet forwards.

“Be careful, Kí! Uncle will not let her come with us anymore if she’s all bruised afterwards!” His brother reprimanded the young prince immediately who apologised with another one of those melting puppy-eyed looks that made her heart shudder with maternal instincts. “I have to toughen up.” She just smiled.

“No, we need to learn delicacy. Ah, here’s one who will know how to act…Ok, he’s fled. We’ll get him!”

They ran off, after a reddish flash dashing around a corner, with surprising agility. To Faith, it felt like watching wolf pups chase after a deer; there was the distinct cuteness of youth, but already, one could not oversee the instincts and the single-minded determination of predators, of warriors, of flowering strength and power.

Sighing, she decided to follow them, praying that there would be no doors to open or sullen dwarrows to confront before she found them. In her mind, she turned over the question if it would really be appropriate to tell the king that he was handsome…She had said so before, but she had spoken abstractly, never really adopting the tone his nephews so ardently claimed was necessary. The mere possibility that those two rascals could be right when hinting at the king’s loneliness overruled her sense of propriety and what little pride she had left. Once she’d find her way back to her companion, she’d tell him.

“Mistress? Here’s Ori.” Kíli shoved another youngish dwarrow towards her who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in her presence. Her heart froze. Two other silhouettes appeared from the shadows and the hairs on her neck raised in gooseflesh.

[gunslingertales]

Saving grace || A.M - Chapter 1

Story summary: Arthur struggles with his guilt and his loyalty towards the people he always thought of as family. He starts questioning the life they’ve been leading lately and wonders if there’s still a place for him somewhere out there in a world that’s so quickly chaning. Then he meets a woman with fire in her eyes and gold in her heart who seems equally lost in the great unknown that’s life.

Chapter One: “ Foolish thoughts”

Chapter summary: There’s a little Ranch just south of Valentine and the owners owe the Van der Linde Gang some money. Arthur is send to collect the debts thought instead of money he finds a sick and frail old man and a woman ready to fight for the people she considers her family.

Likes, comments and especially reblogs are more than appreciated ♥

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

A thick heat rests upon New Hanover as Arthur rides his horse through the fields and valleys, the sun beating mercilessly down on him. It’s a dry heat, one that clings to your lips and eyes and makes them feel like sandpaper.

A thick heat rests upon New Hanover as Arthur rides his horse through the fields and valleys, the sun beating mercilessly down on him. It’s a dry heat, one that clings to your lips and eyes and makes them feel like sandpaper.

He’s not really one for this weather, then again, he’s not itching to get back into the snow either. Those days up in Colter, holed up in those dingy little cabins not knowing whether they’d starve or if the storm would kill them first, they’ve left marks on all of them. Every time he looks around the camp he can see faces filled with relief yet guarded. It’s like no one really believes that luck might finally be on their side.

Dutch keeps repeating his mantras of “Just have faith” and though he’d die for this man, lately Arthur’s been wondering what exactly he’s supposed to have faith in. Life just ain’t what it used to be. The world, ain’t what it used to be. And maybe it has outgrown them. Maybe times ain’t meant for folk like them no more. He’s not gonna voice those thoughts though, not to Dutch or anyone else. Sometimes your own thoughts can be your undoing. So they stay in his head and in his diary. And anyway, what good would it do to undermine Dutch’s plan? It would just cause problems and unrest in the group. Then if they fall apart where would that leave him? They’re all he’s got. Mary ain’t taking him back anytime soon, that train had left years ago. There’s nothing else out there for him. He ain’t no rancher. Can’t fish really well. Hell, even though being out with Charles helped him get better, he ain’t turning into a hunter anytime soon either. He’s not bad at it but he can’t make a living from it either. This life, robbing and plundering and doing — well bad things, this is all he knows. All he’s ever known. Maybe, he thinks, life hasn’t outrun the group. He can see John, dull as he may be, turning his life around and becoming a rancher maybe. Mary-Beth, nose stuck in a book at all times, could make a great writer if given the opportunity. Hell, even Pearson could find employment elsewhere.

But him ? Nah. Maybe life hasn’t outrun the group. Maybe it has just outrun him.

Silly thoughts. Silly foolish thoughts. Thoughts he can’t afford. Not right now. He can’t grow soft right now. He’s got work to do. Work he ain’t particularly fond of but work nonetheless. Goddamn Strauss and his lending business. Though it may be legal it ain’t right. The fool is playing bigger fools for money they don’t have.

There’s a voice in the back of Arthur’s head nagging him about it. Telling him to just turn around and let Straus do the dirt work himself if he’s so keen on making business with desperate people he should be the one dealing with the consequences of his actions.

The idiot would probably get himself killed in the process though and while that wouldn’t be much of a bother to Arthur himself, he’s quite certain Dutch does not share that sentiment.

So once again he’s the one fixing other people’s mistakes.

There’s a small ranch just south of Valentine, close to Cumberland Falls. It ain’t big by any means but it’s calm and quaint and for a split second Arthur wonders if this could’ve been the life for him had he decided to stay with Mary and leave the gang behind. Probably not, Mary wouldn’t want to be a rancher’s wife either.

As he hitches his horse, Mouse on the closes tree, Arthur can already spot the poor fella Thomas Downes raking the ground by his crops. It’s not nice work, collecting debts.

The man is lanky and thin and he looks frails. With every step Arthur gets closer to the fence, he can hear the man coughing and wheezing. It ain’t right, beating money out of a sick man. It ain’t right at all.

“ Mr. Downes? Mr. Thomas Downes? “

“ Yup, that’s me.”

The man looks up at him with a smile and his words sound so goddamn chipper. It’s worse beating nice and friendly people. If they’re assholes, well, it ain’t so bad then. Least it doesn’t leave a sick taste in his mouth afterward.

“ You owe me money.”

The smile falls from his lips as realization dawns on him.

“ Oh, no no no - I “

Arthur steps through the gate, a terrified Thomas Downes facing him, rake in hand and ready to fight. What a nuisance, Arthur thinks. In the best of all cases, this man is sick, and in the worst, he’s actively dying, he’s not going to win any fight. Though Arthur commends his bravery, it’s a foolish attempt really.

He slaps the rake out of the man’s hand as if it’s a piece of straw. “ Really? Threaten me, would you? “

A deliberately placed punch straight to the jaw follows his words and immediately knocks the skinny man off of his feet. As he sits in the dirt, Thomas Downes looks up at Arthur through fearful eyes. It ain’t right.

“ Please. I have a family, sir. Please. “

It’s not fun to have them begging if they’re nice folk. Nonetheless, Arthur grabs the guy by his collar, lifts him up just a little. “ I don’t care about your family. You borrowed money from my business partner Herr Strauss. You owe him. You took the money, he wants it back. “

Downes cowers at Arthur’s feet like a beaten dog, there’s hopelessness in his eyes and desperation.

“ Where’s our money? “

“ I don’t have it. “

“ Sell your place. “

“ We already owe more than it’s worth. “

“ Well, that’s too bad for you then. “ Arthur lets out one of his signature grunts and is about to hoist the man up to his feet when a loud voice catches his attention.

“ Hey, you. Stop! Stop! Let him go! “

Arthur turns just in time to see a woman run up to him, her red hair pulled into a thick braid that hangs over her right shoulder, a few wildflowers intricately woven into the braid. Her appearance is one of sweetness and innocence though there’s a fire in her eyes burning brightly and her steps are fast and fierce.

“ This ain’t none of your business, Ma’am. Your husband owes us some money, I’m just here to collect what’s rightfully ours. “

“ He ain’t my husband. “ the woman hisses at Arthur, as she pulls Mr. Downes back to his feet and leans him against the fence. There’s blood dripping from a cut above his eye that the woman quickly wipes away with a handkerchief. “ I work here. “

“ Well, then it sure ain’t none of your concern. I just want my goddamn money.”

“ You’re not gonna find it here. Can’t you see he’s sick? The ranch ain’t doin well either. “

“ I don’t care, lady. We ain’t your idea of charity. “

“ So what ? “ she asks and steps up to him, her eyes burning with anger and wrath. She’s so close, Arthur can see even the smallest of freckles as they cover her cheeks like stars in the clear night sky. “ You gonna kill him cause he can’t pay back the few lousy dollars he owes you? “

“ If that’s what it takes. Ain’t no dollar lousy for someone who got none. “ he tries to reach around her, to grab Mr. Drownes again and instill a little more fear, get some cash out of him even if it’s not all he owes. Though the woman doesn’t have any of it, she steps back into his path, shielding the sick man from Arthur’s rage.

“ Stop!”

“ Woman, get outta ma damn way.”

“ No! “

“ Ma’am, I ain’t the kind of guy that slaps a woman around but you’re going on my nerves real bad. “

“ You are free to leave. “

“ Not without ma money!”

“ Okay, okay, “ she holds her hands out in front of her in a gesture to calm him down. Like he’s a wild horse stomping his hooves and bucking up on his hind legs. “ I’ll pay. I don’t got no money but I have something else. If I give it to you, will you leave him alone? “

Arthur considers it for a moment. For a second he wonders why it matters to her. Why she’d give her valuables for a family that ain’t hers. But then again, he’d give his life for Dutch and Hosea and the gang, and ain’t none of them bound to him by blood.

“ Is it worth anything? “

“ It’s worth good money. “

“ Then yes. “

“ I need to get it, follow me then. “

It’s not a question, it’s a demand. It’s really not her place to make any demands but Arthur doesn’t mind. As long as she’s giving him something valuable he can live with the attitude.

The woman gives Thomas Downes another look-over, making sure he’s fine to stand on his own before patting his arm affectionately and turning back towards Arthur.

Little fly-away hair sticks to her skin that’s slick with the summer heat and the sun reflecting in her eyes turns them a vibrant shade of blue. It’s quite the sight, a girl like her turning into a real firecracker.

She stomps past him, dirt clinging to her boots as she hikes her skirt a little higher. Her clothes are quite something, Arthur thinks. The skirt is a blue and grey gingham pattern and her blouse is white and flowy with several colorful flowers embroidered onto it. There’s some frilly stuff hanging from the sleeves and the collar. Quite … something. But hell, what does he know.

“ Lemme tell you, Ma’am. Ya better not try any funny business. I ain’t here to joke around.”

It’s not that he distrusts her in particular. It’s that all his life he’s been taught not to trust anyone except those closest to him. And even that seems questionable these days. His mom died before he could even really get to know her and his dad, he was a good for nothing bastard. Hosea and Dutch, those are the people he trusts. Charles, too. Even John with his hot-headed ideas and big dreams. But not strangers. Never stranger no matter how nice. No matter how beautiful.

Trust makes you vulnerable. Vulnerability kills you. Or at least it chips away at your heart until there’s nothing left.

There’s a small building a few steps away from the main house, not more than a shed really but there are several patches of colorful wildflowers growing by the path leading up to it. Though he doesn’t know her, Arthur can see her living here. With the flowers out front and the sun shining through the one small window.

Arthur feels uneasy as she lets him step into the shed. There’s a bunch of old photographs sitting on a cupboard in the corner and some hung up on the wall behind her bed. It’s been a while since Arthur’s stayed at an actual house, even longer since a place felt like home, if ever. He’s not quite sure if he ever had a  one to begin with. Maybe his home’s the prairie.

But this, this place feels awfully homely. It’s bursting with personality and character.

With a groan, the woman reaches down and lifts one of the floorboards, picking up a small wooden box, adorned with several little amber stones. There are words engraved into the lit of the box though he can’t make out what they’re saying.

“ You know, “ she says as her fingers fumble around in the small box “ you ain’t a very nice man. “

“ Never said I was. “

It’s no lie. He’s not a very nice man. He’s robbed people, killed them. He’s beaten an old sick man for a few lousy dollars. He’s not living with false perceptions of himself. He knows exactly the kind of man he is and it ain’t a nice one. But to say the words don’t affect him is a lie. They do, for they are the same words he’s heard from Mary so many many times. Back when he tried to be a nice man. For her.

“ Here you go!” the woman pushes something into his hands before stuffing the box back beneath the floorboard. “ That should be plenty enough. “

Slowly, Arthur opens his hand to reveal several pieces of sparkling jewelry. Two sparkly gold earrings and a ring with a big red stone. Granted, Arthur doesn’t know the first thing about jewelry but even he can tell this stuff is worth a good dollar.

“ It was my mama’s. Was hoping one day I’d find a husband and he’d propose to me with that ring but I — I guess that ain’t happening no more. “

The fire in her eyes is gone and has been replaced with an infinite sadness. The uneasy feeling returns to Arthur’s stomach. It just ain’t right.

“ You ain’t gotta be doing this. They aren’t your debts. “

She lets out a deep sigh before looking back at Arthus, blue eyes brimming with honesty and sadness.

“ Life ain’t so easy, you know? The Downes are the only people I got left. Thomas isn’t doin’ well. If God has mercy on us he lets him live for a few more weeks. That’s the time I got to try and find a new place of work. Edith will lose the Ranch soon as Thomas is in the ground. The goddamn bank is already circling around like vultures. Her and Archie will go west, stay with some family of hers. I’ll be alone then. And the world is cruel to a woman who’s got no husband and no work and no possessions. This family helped me out when my daddy died and I had no place to go, this is just me returning the favor while I still can. “

“ You the maid or something. “

“ Or something. My daddy used to own a general store in the heartlands, close to flatneck station. We used to buy produce from the Downes. Then my mama died and my daddy — well I guess part of him died with her. Things didn’t look so good for us no more but the Downes always did good by me. Always made sure I had food on the table. Then, when my daddy died, they took me in. First I was taking care of Archie, their son, then when he was old enough I started helping around the house and with the crops. It’s why I cherish them so much, why I wanna help ‘em. Don’t even wanna think about what comes next. “

His heart is constricting in weird ways. He shouldn’t be feeling this way. Mercy is not something he can afford. Rich people can. Nice people too. But not him and not the gang. Life just feels so strange lately, like the world has shifted just a little. Enough to throw things out of proportion but too little to make any immediate impacts.

“ Sorry to hear that, Ma’am.”

“ Please don’t call me Ma’am. Makes me feel mighty old. “

“ I’m sorry … Miss ? “

“ Everly. May Everly. “

“ Well, then I’m sorry Miss Everly. I don’t mean no harm, I’m just doin’ ma job.”

That’s not the truth but sometimes it’s easier to tell little lies than to be entirely honest. He’s sorry, that part is true. Sorry that life ain’t being good to her either lately. But he did mean harm, to Mr. Downes at least. Had she not stopped him, worse things could’ve happened. Way worse things.

“ I understand. Just wish your job didn’t entail punching people into the ground. “

Arthur averts his eyes and lets them run up and down the pattern in the wooden floorboards. It’s one thing to be faced with our own shortcomings when your mind is screaming them at you but to have them laid out for you by someone else, a stranger no less, that’s quite a different story and it’s not pleasant.

“ We all gotta survive somehow, I guess. “

“ Maybe you’re right. Maybe we ain’t so different you and I. The world seems like it don’t want either of us no more. “

“ Maybe so. “

A soft hand is placed on Arthur’s arm. So gentle and kind and Arthur wonders how long it’s been since he last felt the touch of a woman. Quite a while if you don’t count the bath-girls at the saloon. He hates the fact that this is where his mind wanders. Ain’t no way this woman would ever even entertain the thought of showing him any affection that rises above a friendly pat on the arm.

“ What’s your name? “

“ Arthur. Arthur Morgan. “

“ Well, Mr. Morgan. Please take the jewelry and let the Downes live how little time they got left in peace. “

“ You sure? “

She nods, sending more hair to pull out of the neat braid and some wildflowers to fall to the ground.

“ But, if I can allow myself to make a request. Could you make sure the ring goes to someone who needs it? Maybe a couple in love. Someone looking to surprise their wife. Just — don’t just pawn it off please. “

“ I’ll keep it in mind. “

“ Thank you, Mr. Morgan. “

A silence settles upon them heavily just the way his heart feels right then. Heavy like the stones that seem to rest inside his stomach for a while now.

“ Have a good day, Miss Everly. Sorry, it has come to this. “

“ Yeah, me too. “

The acidic taste of guilt sits on the tip of his tongue as he steps back outside and walks the path down towards where Mouse is munching away on a patch of grass. Wildflowers are flanking his sides and with every step he takes, his conscience and his heart grow heavier.

When his eyes look up from the ground, Arthur spots another horse grazing next to Mouse. A beautiful Buttermilk Buckskin stands in the midday sun, fur shining like golden silk. It’s a gorgeous horse.

“ Oh, I see you met Beans. Sorry whenever he’s around other horses he naturally gravitates towards them. “

It’s not surprising to him that this horse belongs to May. Though he doesn’t know her at all, has only had one conversation with her, something about her intrigues him. There’s a mystery to her. A certain depth. The way she’s looked straight into his soul when she talked to him was both comforting and scary. Usually, the only person who even understood a tiny bit of his inner working was Hosea and even then with him, it was mostly a guessing game that sometimes hit the spot. Mary-Beth always had an open ear for his problems and seemed to understand whenever he chose to share but her head was always up in the clouds so it was hard to tell if she really understood or if she just repeated pretty words from those books she devoured all the time.

“ Beans.”

“ Yup. I got him when Archie was little, he helped me name him and it kinda stuck. Sorry, he’s bothering your horse. Lemme take him inside the barn. “

“ Nah, it’s alright. This is his home. Mouse doesn’t care anyway. “

“ Mouse? Well, that’s a cute name. Didn’t take her for a Mouse since her fur ain’t gray but … it’s cute. “

“ Sure. “

He doesn’t tell her that the only reason the horse is named Mouse is because back in the day, when they were still young and foolish and in love, Mary had read to him from a book her father had given her. It was about some girl who falls down a rabbit hole and then ends up in some weird fantasy world. He doesn’t remember a thing from it but the fact that there was a Mouse in this story. So his lovesick heart named his new horse after a character from a book the woman he used to love once read to him. Amongst fools, he really is the king. Mary probably doesn't spend a single second thinking of him and he goes around doing stuff like that.

“ Well, you take care Arthur Morgan. And get Mouse some sugar cubes from the money you make from my jewelry please. “

Arthur lifts himself onto this horse and tips his hat towards May as she leans against her own horse, fingers combing through the black mane.

“ I can do that. You take care too, Miss Everly. “

She bids him goodbye with a smile, one he is most definitely undeserving of. Even after taking something valuable from her, her mother’s ring, her dead mother’s ring, she still grants him a smile.

Life ain’t never been fair to him but he had never deserved for it to be either. Arthur knows he isn’t a good man by any means, today has only proven that further. But her, with her wildflowers and her Horse with the funny name, she seems like no bad thing has ever come from her. Life, Arthur thinks, should favor those who do good. That would only be fair.

But when has life ever been fair.

The encounter stays on his mind way into the night. At the campfire, as Javier strums along on his guitar and sings some Spanish song neither of them has heard before, his thoughts wander back to May and what she said about them being not so different. If only she knew. Women, Arthur has experienced, often don’t seem to grasp the severity of his wrongdoings, of his bad deeds. They like to see him for a romantic version of what they perceive an outlaw to be. He ain’t none of it though.

He looks around the campfire at the familiar faces. This is the first night they all got to come together and celebrate being down from the mountains and out of the snow. There are smiles on everyone’s faces and a mutual sense of belonging falls upon them. This, Arthur thinks, is why he chose this life. The community. The loyalty. The love.

Sometimes you have to fight against the restraints life gives you and find your own path. Find your own family. And he did that, all on his own. In Dutch and Hosea and yes, even fucking Marston. These are his people and if the world don’t want them, at least they’re going down together. A luxury miss Everly doesn’t seem to have.

“ Stop with the silly thought, Arthur!”  He scolds himself. “ That ain’t none of your business. Nothing you need to get involved in. You got enough on your plate as it is. “

And he tries to stick to that, he really does. Silly, foolish thoughts are a luxury people like him don’t get to revel in.

Only that’s not entirely true for the next several pages of his diary are filled with sketches of beautiful wildflowers, a horse with golden fur and a black mane. And a girl with flowers in her hair and eyes a bright sky blue that hold the fire of a thousand flames.

[nalufever]

Would it be to much to ask to continue the Evening the Score but with lucy finding her camisole in natsu house?

>

Nope! Not too much to ask ~ just needed a bit of time to get my ideas down and written. ^^ Thanks for sending an ask and I hope you enjoy this!

Evening the Score, part 2

>

Lucy knocked on Natsu’s door with vigour and more than a little desperation, regretting the last cup of coffee she’d thought would be a good idea. She shifted the bag she carried to her other shoulder and hammered it louder. They’d agreed to meet at his house so where was he? Oh, there was no way she’d make it back to Magnolia to find a public restroom. And even if Natsu didn’t care about such things, Lucy did not want to empty her bladder outside. Nope.

Cold sweat on her forehead, Lucy gulped and looked heavenward for salvation. She found it, the edge of a key glinted on the top of the door frame. Mumbling heartfelt thanks she rushed inside, dropped her purse and bag, bolting for the bathroom.

Now much more relaxed, Lucy walked back to where she’d dumped her bag of groceries. Their plans were to make food together but she could get a head start, yeah? May as well. It was unusual for Natsu to be late - especially when it’d been his idea to cook - and at his own house! Figuring there had to be a reason, (and she gave it a fifty percent chance it was ridiculous) Lucy shook her head. As much fun as doing things with Natsu was, cooking went smoother when he wasn’t begging for taste tests.

In the kitchen Lucy found a miracle. The counters were clean and each piece of cookware needed tonight were waiting. A certain dragon slayer had to be gunning for boyfriend of the year. Lucy was inclined to reward his thoughtfulness in the only way she could imagine.

Brownies! Thick and chewy. Homemade; with hot sauce spiced icing.

In that moment, Lucy knew she had to hurry. You obviously had to make dessert first in order for it to cool enough to enjoy at the end of a meal. She looked down at her clothes. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy but she hadn’t counted on making brownies. Every foray into baking had given her the knowledge she’d be covered from head to toe in ingredients.

Shit.

Checking her watch, Lucy discovered she was actually early. Oh. No wonder Natsu wasn’t home. Now she needed to make the brownies as an apology for letting herself into his home. The desire to keep clean, or at least as clean as possible directed Lucy to Natsu’s bedroom. There had to be something there she could use as a makeshift apron.

It was suspiciously clean. No dirty clothes on the floor, no discarded food or magazines. It was neat and orderly. Lucy felt even more uneasy to be trespassing Natsu’s personal space. But she needed something to protect her clothes, so she lifted her chin and yanked open her boyfriend’s closet.

Sigh. Sleeveless jackets and off-white baggy trousers weren’t going to protect her clothes. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. Shit. She’d have to search his drawers for a long-sleeved shirt. Fine.

Keeping her ears cocked in case Natsu came home early, Lucy slowly pulled open the first drawer and looked inside; nothing but socks, underwear and handkerchiefs. How weird was that? Had she ever seen him wearing socks? Or using a handkerchief? She wasn’t touching the issue of his underwear. No sir.

On to the next drawer. Ah, a semblance of normalcy! T-shirts and belts - things she could touch without feeling like a sexual deviant. But a t-shirt wasn’t going to be enough. Nope. Mumbling a brief and impassioned prayer, Lucy opened the third and last drawer. Salvation! A bundle of plaid and long-sleeved shirts. All she had to do was pick something long enough to keep her from wearing flour and gritty sugar on her own clothes. Hmm. And something that wasn’t Natsu’s favourite, something that would clean easy - something she wouldn’t swim in either.

Lucy shoved aside the lighter coloured choices and lifted out the only real contender. Constructed of sturdy denim and not so big as to dwarf her frame, this shirt was the best option. Lucy smiled and shook the wrinkles out - gasping as something unexpected flew out of the folds.

No! It couldn’t be! Was that her missing blue camisole? Oh my. It was. The blue camisole she’d assumed her laundry had eaten. It was safely here - in Natsu’s house. So very odd… Not as odd as her holding Natsu’s t-shirt hostage. Or was it exactly the same level of odd? Yup. And suddenly Lucy was inspired.

>

Natsu sniffed the air outside his cottage. Chocolate and …? Spice! He grinned. Lucy had been unable to wait and started their cooking date without him, must be already half done if his nose wasn’t lying. The savoury scents of chicken intermingled with tangy tomato - and Natsu salivated.

He ran into the kitchen and hardly paused before lifting Lucy into his arms and hugging her tight. “Hi!”

More than a little breathless, Lucy squeezed Natsu back and let herself cling, relishing his heat. “Hi yourself!” Suddenly shy, she pushed out of Natsu’s arms. “I hope you don’t mind, I borrowed this to keep my clothes clean.” Lucy pointed to the shirt she wore. “You know how I get when I bake.”

“Does this mean what I think it does? Yosh!” Natsu pumped his arm in celebration. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“Hey!” Lucy admonished Natsu but her tone was teasing and lacked any real heat. “I told you I’m the lucky one. I’m hungry for chocolate is all.”

“Whatever you say, Luce.” Natsu was unable to stop grinning. “Whatever you say.” He finally noticed what Lucy was wearing. A very familiar denim long-sleeved shirt - exactly the same as the one he’d hidden Lucy’s camisole in, way inside the third drawer of his dresser. “Um…” Unable to ask outright about the camisole, Natsu decided to divert attention. “How much of dinner did you leave us to finish together?”

Lucy smiled. “Not much. I’d rather spend time with you talking as we eat rather than struggling to talk and cook at the same time.”

Her smile didn’t give Natsu much relief but he needed to respond. “Well, everything smells great!”

“It should! I worked hard!” Lucy blinked at her date. “Help me take off my make-shift apron?”

“Of, of course!” Natsu lifted his hands to the buttons at Lucy’s neck and willed his tremors to subside. This was nothing in the grand scheme of things - who hadn’t unbuttoned a shirt before? But this was Lucy and while they’d kissed passionately more than once, never had they ever removed clothing. Urk. “I can do that.”

Lucy nodded and kept her eyes glued to Natsu’s eyes as he fumbled with the buttons of the denim shirt she wore. She did her best to keep from smirking as Natsu’s obvious uneasiness grew and grew the more buttons he released. She inhaled at just the right moment as he exposed her blue camisole. Game over. Fufufufu.

“I’m so hungry!” Lucy wiggled out of Natsu’s shirt and pretended she wasn’t wearing the very item she’d complained about losing all last week. “Hope you brought your appetite!”

“Yeah…” Natsu was oddly subdued. Seeing Lucy wearing skimpy clothes was both titillating and wrong. Did that make sense? He sure as hell liked what he saw but it made him feel odd. But not in the way Gildarts had gone to such extreme measures to explain to him (with grossly inappropriate real-life examples). “You cold?”

Lucy could have given in to Natsu right then and there. But this was bigger than right or wrong - bigger than anything she’d ever imagined. Time to pretend. “Don’t be silly! How could I be cold with a fire dragon slayer? You’re all the heat I need.”

“Um, okay.” Natsu gave Lucy a weak grin. She was working on something and he should just let her play. “Let’s eat.”

>

All through dinner Natsu waited for Lucy to drop her pleasant act. His partner was playful. She served him and kept the conversation light and easy. Lucy was acting like the very definition of a perfect hostess. It was annoying.

“I’m stuffed.” Natsu covered his mouth and belched. No sense in denying who he was - he didn’t need to lie about his rough edges. Lucy had been witness to worse. “Thank you for the meal!”

“Glad you enjoyed.” Lucy smiled.

Her smile creeped Natsu out more than anything. He could sense a few of the underlying tensions in Lucy but he was confused too. She smelt receptive and angry. Not a good combination. “But I’ve got room for dessert.”

“I did happen to make a batch of brownies.” Lucy rose out of her chair and sashayed past Natsu - her hips were screaming illicit promises that Natsu had only ever dreamed about. “Want some?”

Torn between wanting to answer, ‘fuck yeah!’ and 'anytime you wanna give it up,’ Natsu settled for a meek 'yes, please.’

“I hope you enjoy.” Lucy slid a plate of delectable brownie slathered with her own creation - icing containing hot sauce - to Natsu. “You deserve all this and more.”

Pushed to the edge, Natsu gulped and cracked. “You got it all wrong! I don’t deserve you being nice! At all! I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what?”

“I stole your camisole because you kept my shirt! Sorry!”

“But I’m wearing my camisole. How can you say you took it, Natsu?” Lucy dipped her pinky into the decadent icing as she pushed the brownie towards her partner, then slowly licked away the evidence. “I’m wearing it.”

Natsu squinted at Lucy. Part of him wanted to throw Lucy over his shoulder and act like a caveman. It would be good until she punched his lights out.

Lucy sauntered back to her seat and sat, never breaking eye contact with Natsu. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“I really admire and respect you?” Abruptly Natsu shook his head and squared his shoulders. “I mean, um, no?”

Lucy narrowed her eyes and pinched her lips into a straight line. “Fine.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. He heaved a sigh. “Um, maybe?”

Lucy curled her lips into the most menacing smile Natsu had ever seen. “Fine.”

Oh god. “Wait…” He nervously licked his lips. “Can I throw myself on your mercy right now?”

“Why would you need to do that?” Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”

“Because I want to live?” Natsu pleaded with his eyes. “I dunno! I’m just horny and scared and did I mention turned on?”

Lucy opened and closed her mouth, unable to articulate any words. Natsu’s honesty was refreshing even if unnerving. She had to admire that about him.

“I know I’m not making any sense right now, but how can I when you’re wearing that and smelling so good?” Natsu gestured to Lucy’s upper body. “I can’t. I just can’t!”

“Enjoy your dessert.” Lucy lost her urge for vengeance. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“The dessert that’s mine?”

“What else?”

Natsu stood up, knocking over his chair and marched over to Lucy. “The brownie can wait.”

“Huh?” Not her most eloquent moment, but Lucy was still thinking about Natsu admitting he was horny and turned on.

“I want to enjoy some dessert.”

Lucy pointed to the ignored brownie. “It’s over there.”

“Yeah, the brownie is there, but don’t you think I don’t know what’s sweeter?” Natsu lightly glided a hand down Lucy’s bare arm, smiling as she gasped. “You’re all the dessert I could ever want.”

“Yeah?”

Natsu nodded. “Only ever you, Luce.”

Lucy smiled. “Only ever you, Natsu.”

[halycondaze]

death, mourning, and femininity in adrestia

trigger warnings: death, superstitions, sexism, victorian germans i mean, adrestians being wild

to start: i have modeled (and borrowed heavily) on the victorian idea of death and the public nature of mourning on the victorian idea of these things. victorian culture has been described as death obsessed, which is where we get the macabre works of artists contemporary to the time.  the fall of house usher, the bronte sister’s haunting works, these were influenced and indeed, perhaps spawned by this cultural obsession with death. 

the ideal death in victorian culture, as described by mortician c*aitlin d*oughty, was to “[meet] eternity with eyes open, bravely facing god and judgement, thought provoking last words of wisdom poised on their lips,” and “was the hope and goal of every person.” 1 she then later goes on to explain that the process associated with “victorian mourning” would have really only been practiced in higher class / upper levels of society. 

therefor, the same will be true throughout this headcanon. these are the truths for upper society, the nobles and, given fódlan’s strict social hierarchy, mainly available to those born into crest bearing families. however, much like fashion trends, what is considered standard by the upper echelon is often seen as aspirational by those below them. after all, appearance is the way the world perceives you, and if you can make the world perceive you as higher than your actual standing, you have the chance (the smallest, slightest chance) of achieving said place. respect can get you into a lot of places. 

especially in death. death is that last chance to be seen as respected, especially as unclaimed bodies in victorian times were often used for medical study.... and, given the canonical banning of autopsies 2 done by rhea, this probably, paradoxically, becomes more of a worry. the lack of official ways to study a body and doctors desperately needing to understand why people are dying might turn to stealing unclaimed corpses. and even if there aren’t surreptitious autopsies, unclaimed bodies would have had their teeth pulled to make dentures, were the teeth in good shape. 

if you’ve got even one family member, or a close friend, or simply a presence in a community, in adrestia, you’re buried and publicly mourned. it’s respect, it’s dignity, it’s about eternity. it is also, yes, a safety net, and, if someone is an unburied, unclaimed person, it’s a condemnation. and yes, this does happen more to immigrants, women, and the poor than it would to men, those born in fódlan, or the rich. unless you were truly despised by your own family, a rich man was getting buried.

unlike the victorians, however, embalming doesn’t really catch on in adrestia. the use of harsh, poisonous chemicals is seen as desecrating the body, which should be treated as gently as you would treat a living person. there are three expected processes for death in adrestia, and they depend on where the person dies: at home, out of the home in a civilian setting, or at war. 

when someone dies at home, it is expected that their family members / those they live with will record the time of death, either generally using the position of the sun/moon, or if they own / are near a sundial, will use that instead. then, all mirrors are covered with sheets or turned down, to prevent the soul from getting lost on their way to the afterlife. a black wreath will be hung on the door so anyone coming to visit will know to knock softly. 1

afterwards, it is expected to keep the body in the home, as preparations for the wake and funeral begin. the woman of the house, or a close female friend, is expected to prepare the body. they will wrap a gentle cloth around the mouth and close the deceased’s eyes with cotton pads, so they have a reserved countenance at the wake. then they will be washed, again gently, from underneath a sheet, to preserve dignity. the cloths used are burned. 1 3

from there, the deceased will be dressed, usually in their burial shroud, which the deceased would have already had, or if they did not have one, then they would simply be buried in their sunday best. while the ladies of the house prepare the body, the man (or, a male family friend) would go and fetch a casket for the burial and wake. upon return, the body would be moved into the casket. from then on, no more preparations or changes are made to the body, except for the use of ice magic to slow decay. this is the only form of preservation allowed in adrestia. 

after, letters are sent out, sealed with black wax and if the person is rich enough, on papers prepared for their death with small copies of a portrait of them. the wake lasts about five days, no longer than seven. one cannot show up at a funeral uninvited. that is considered beyond preposterous, and if you did not get an invitation, you could politely send a letter to the deceased’s family / caretakers to request to show up. 

the funeral itself is very familiar to one who grew up in the american tradition - people in black (or muted colors, see below) with their heads held down, crying and talking about their virtues. they will have a procession to the graveyard, taking as convoluted a route as possible, to prevent the spirit from simply following the family home. afterwards, they return for refreshments, usually sweets, and people will talk for a few hours and return home. 

for someone who died outside the household, the police must examine the body visually to make sure they did not die due to murder, but the rest plays out namely the same once they’re brought home. they’re washed and treated with care, and eventually brought to a graveyard. 

someone who died in battle is buried differently. they rarely have a body, and if they do, then it will proceed as above. however, if they do not, it expected for their chosen burial shroud or sunday best to be buried in their place, and the expected mourning period is elongated by a month, due to the lack of the body to bury. 

mourning (+femininity) 

now, as with actual victorian mourning, there are a lot of rules. particularly for women. so let’s roll back and place the role of women in fódlan over all:

the expectation of noble women in fódlan, is to get married and produce children who bear crests. however, this also places them as the center of the household no matter where you go. rarely is one married for love, particularly in this higher society. however, adrestia has a very large performance aspect. and of course, this expected more of women than it is of men.

for instance, an adrestian widow is expected to be in full mourning for a year, but a widower is only expected to mourn six months. after all, a widower must find another wife to continue to produce heirs, and hasn’t the time to be in full mourning. after the full mourning period, it is expected for the widow/er to be in half mourning for a few months after, but again, men are given far less scrutiny. 1 3

full mourning entails: all black dress, thick black veils, and for men, a specific kind of mourning coat. as said, these are in all black, and sometimes it is expected to have a piece of cameo jewelry, (made with the deceased’s hair) or a handkerchief on the person at all time. it is considered uncouth to go out into society during full mourning. 3

half mourning entails: muted colors (grey, lilac, navy) but in the typical, day to day style. the silhouette tends to change once a decade. one may socialize as expected of your station, but you are expected to never show intense happiness or joy if you are in half mourning. 3

servants of the household where a death occurred are expected to wear a black band around their arm until the grieving family is out of mourning. 3

there are, of course, other rituals and superstitions. copied verbatim from the source below / taken from the first source, they are: 1 3

one must cover all mirrors in the house when someone has died, because the spirit will get lost. it is bad luck to meet a funeral procession head on. If you see one approaching, turn around. If this is unavoidable, hold on to a button until the funeral cortege passes. if you hear a clap of thunder following a burial it indicates that the soul of the departed has reached heaven. if you don’t hold your breath while going by a graveyard, you will not be buried after your death. if the deceased has lived a good life, flowers would bloom on his grave; but if he has been evil, only weeds would grow.

femininity, part two

as i alluded to above, the care taking of a corpse is coded feminine, in both victorian life, and adrestian culture.  in fact, young girls are given “death kits” and expected to train to understand how to properly prepare a body, and understand why such things are done. 4 while no one seems to consider the effects of this kind of culture on the girls, it is a standard way of raising them that prepares them to be the face of a noble household. 

this leads to a very interesting form of femininity. as women in fódlan are allowed to be warriors as well (though really, only in adrestia and the alliance) there is very little expectation for a woman to be squeamish about... anything. women caretake bodies and they are trained to kill, if they’re lucky enough to go to school. however, there is also always the expectation that a noble daughter - and a poor daughter - will marry a man, hopefully above her station, to elevate the family’s status and produce heirs with a crest. and many women - namely in the holy kingdom - will actually turn to becoming nuns to avoid this fate. and if they don’t, then they run away from home, or hole themselves up to be considered unmarriageable or tear at yellow wallpapers as they slowly grab for freedom. 

to be raised in this culture is to become aware of mortality so early on, particularly for young girls, and to become either hardened to it, or more sensitive to death. the four girls we see from adrestia (edelgard, dorothea, bernadetta, and mercedes) reflect this well. they were all raised with this pressure of being the face of a future household, and have become almost perfectly poised to never be that face - the newest generation of adrestian girls is like this. they are girls ready to overthrow the system, from one point of view or another - girls who know how to kill and are ready to stop the system’s breath. 

and even if they’re not, they still grew up finding tiny porcelain corpses in cakes, the unavoidable hand of death. 5

SOURCES:

1. we recreated a victorian funeral  2. screenshots from the fe/3h dlc 3. the rules and regulations of mourning in the victorian era 4. victorian death dolls 5. happy birthday, there’s a corpse in your cake!

[ships-inside-your-head]

affection

Toshinori was not necessarily someone who showed affection for a particular person in public.

It was not that he did not want it, oh, he wanted it so much, but he just could not. For too long he had drilled himself into thinking that any weakness of All Might, any beloved person, would be exploited if he showed it.

The years passed and ... he was fine with it. There was no one he wanted to overflow with affection he met in public. He could arrange meetings with the pro-heroes, and with his best friend, Naomasa-kun, he was always able to meet as he was a policeman, it did not attract attention and he regularly visited Melissa and Dave, but it was just private.

The stranger it was that every time he had the urge to mess up Izuku’s hair or hug him when he saw him - no matter where it was. He tried to suppress it as much as possible, but sometimes ... he could not resist. At some point he found that his boy needed that affection, and who was he if he refused something so necessary? So the boy got every necessary positive physical contact he could get, even if it was always only Toshinori and never All-Might.

 Then Kamino Ward happened and everything changed.

Suddenly he was able to bring such affection to all his students, even though he had to make the special hugs for Izuku significantly more private. Then Inko managed to secure a place in his heart just as her son had already done.

He ... he did not really know what he should do now. He was now only a teacher, he could never be a hero again, which had given his morale a pretty damper. But then there were the children who continued to love him and his successor and Inko-, god, Inko. She was wonderful. She listened, she shared her concerns with him, and he did as well, it was like a balm to his soul and his heart started to flutter every time he saw her at their weekly private gatherings at her home.

And now all the parents of Hero Class students would come to a meeting, including Inko, and he did not know what to make of it. Oh, he liked her, definitely, but he did not want rumors to come up that he favored someone (Izuku) just because he wanted to date his mother. That was not good. He was also unsure if he should share these concerns with one of his teachers, but who would understand it and be sensitive enough to be quiet?

He bit his knuckles lightly, which did not go unnoticed by the other teachers in the staff room. "Yagi-kun, what's up?" Midnight piped, sitting down on the couch next to him. Her face supported her on her hands as she stared at him. "A-ah, Kayama-kun, that's nothing to do with school, it's a bit private, so-"

She sat up and looked much more interested than before. "Ohh, privately? What's your dirty secrets, tell me ~ "she purred and leaned closer to him and he blushed. "I do not know if-"

"Nemuri, leave him alone," came the raspy voice of Aizawa, and the person in question began to sulk. "You are no fun at all, Shouta!" She wailed, and she was about to turn away when Toshinori put a hand on her shoulder and held her. "Can we talk privately?" The blond asked her gravely,she was blinking in surprise for a moment before her face softened. "Of course, Yagi-kun! See you later, people! "She shouted cheerfully, hooking his arm and gently pulling him (bless her) to her little office. After making sure he was comfortable, she started making tea.

"Yagi-" she began, but he shook his head. "Just Toshinori, what I'm telling you now is ..." he left it unsaid, but she understood enough. "Of course, what's the problem?" She asked, softer than before in the staff room and his shoulders sagged.

"It's ... it's about a woman and-" he raised his hand to keep her from talking in joy, the way she beamed at him. "She's really, really wonderful, and I know that too, and I know that I ... have feelings for her, but the problem is ..." he took a deep breath, even though he did not want to keep her on the torture , "She's the mother of one of our students," he brought out, watching her light come on. "Oh. Is it Midoriya's mom? "She asked bluntly, and in surprise he began to cough, fortunately not strong enough for blood to come, but it still hurt.

"Hey, great, we all know that Midoriya has a special place with you, and you know I'm always up for some little scandals, so I spun a little tale, but now it's true ..." she winked wide grinning. "But that's the problem! I do not want other people to think that I prefer Izuku only because I wantto date Inko!", He remembered. "Or worse, that they think she's a third-rate housewife shamelessly throwing herself at All Might-me ..." he shuddered. "I dont want that. And now the parent meeting is here next week and I do not know what to do. I do not want to ignore her, but I can not treat her too intimately. "His whole frame collapsed.

"Toshinori ..." she murmured and he looked up at her. "It's okay if you want to date her, it's not forbidden to us, as long as you treat all the students equally, what you do in your spare time is still your business." Her hand moved to his arm and she gave him a smile. "Do not worry, I'll help you get your Inko," her eyes glittered and only faintly could he return the smile.

▬

It was time. Almost all of the students' parents would gather today, and although he has met most of them before, when he asked with Aizawa for permission’s for the students to be in the dormitories of U.A. he was nervous. Inko would come and that was the first time he met her outside the shelter of her home and she knew who he was. Disquiet spread in him.

An arm wrapped around his stomach and he looked down at Midnight, who conguised him conspiratorially. "Have you seen her yet, big guy?" She asked in a slightly lewd tone and he shook his head. "Not yet, but she should be here soon ..." he murmured softly and she nodded in understanding. "What does your dream girl look like? Tell me," he started to cough in surprise and unfortunately could not completely prevent blood from passing his lips. Guilt scurried across her face before she offered him a handkerchief, which he gratefully accepted.

"She looks like Izuku, only smaller and softer, you'll recognize her instantly when you see her," he said to her, and as soon as he said those words, a small, green-haired figure appeared at the door. Her eyes searched the room until she found him and a bright smile appeared on her face.

"Yeah, Midoriya is definitely coming after her, I can understand what you think of her - she's really gorgeous," then she tore herself away and grinned. "But I'll borrow her shortly, you're needed at Shouta!" With that in mind, she hurried toward the single mother, began a conversation instantly, and led her elsewhere. Toshinori was too stunned to react, then sighed and turned to the class leader of the 2-A to help.

▬

He was in a conversation with the Yaoyorozus when Midnight and Inko reappeared in his field of vision. Inko looked a bit uncertain, if confident, while his colleague nodded encouragingly and he became slightly suspicious. What had the two discussed with each other that Nemuri looked like this? On the one hand, he did not want to know, on the other hand, he burned with curiosity. The blonde ended the conversation as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. Momo's parents were barely gone when Inko approached him with a determined face.

"Inko, how nice to get you over here," she did not get any further because she raised her arm, then somehow he was pulled down his shirt collar until he was so close to her face and her lips-!

The rational part of his brain suspended.

It was ... he could not describe it. It felt like the moment he had learned that he was the # 1 hero: pure joy, rapid heartbeat, unbelief.

Somewhere in a small area of ​​his consciousness, he realized that it was suspiciously quiet around her. He just enjoyed kissing this absolutely amazing woman.

Until- "Wuhu, Inko, well done!" A loud, feminine voice called enthusiastically, and he opened his eyes, startled, and stabilized on Inko's shoulders as he looked around. Without exception, all parents and teachers stared at him with a mixture of amusement, shock and speechlessness.

He opened his mouth to say something, but he was not sure if he wanted to defend himself or Inko or whatever, but there were just no words to say. "U-uh ...!", He felt the heat rising in his head and buried his face in his hands and never had he been happier that they were as big as they are now.

A hand patted his arm. "It's okay, Toshi, we'll fix it all up later," Inko muttered softly, while he was suppressing an embarrassing sound.

"I told you, I'll help you get her!" A well-known voice purred beside him and he made a soft chuckle. That's right, she had said that.

[salamanderskin]

Dream a little Dream of Me (A Wartime Romance)

Reposting to Tumblr as part of operation ‘Archive all the old fics’ WWII romance, m/f original sickfic

The year was 1942.

The rain may have been warm but it was persistent.

In the barracks, Charles Frank took a moment to borrow a pocket mirror and ran a comb and a dab of brylcreem through his hair in an attempt to make his hair look more dapper than military smart. By the time he'd caught some rain and pushed his hat on top of that, he was pretty sure it was wasted effort. Another check in the mirror confirmed he was looking presentable, dark brown hair smoothly parted, clean shaven and his shirt freshly ironed. You could have cut yourself on the pleats in his tan slacks. If he was pale and his nose was a little raw at the edges, perhaps it wouldn't show in a dark dancehall.

He bent to tie his laces, optimistically choosing brown spectators over his everyday shoes. He'd just got the soles replaced and they were smooth and pliable, the better to spin Lil around the floor if she'd only let him. He could but hope. He could but- his breath caught uncomfortably and he found himself sneezing hard against one fist.

“Ht---KSSchu! -KSSchu!... excuse me,” he told the air around him.

“Gesundheit.” Someone called over from the next room. His buddy Sam came through in shirt sleeves, fiddling with the buttons on his braces. “Haven't you done that enough today?”

He really had. What he'd hoped on the parade ground was just a tickle in his nose had spread into his throat and inner ear, settling in as surely as the change in the weather. Charlie's head was thick and the beginning of a sinus headache tightened just below his eyes. As if in demonstration he had to sneeze again before he could answer.

“Hah- TCSHu!”

“Gesundheit! Gee Charlie, you going to be alright tonight?

Charlie just shrugged. “You're a mother hen, Sam.”

“As if!” Sam laughed, snatching Charlie's comb to sweep his own blonde locks to one side. “I was going to say that if you can't meet Lillian tonight I'd be more than happy to take your place.” “You should be so -snf- lucky!”

Sam yelled something back as Charlie departed, but it was lost to the patter of rain. It was a perfect summer storm to go with what was blooming into a perfect summer cold. Charlie turned the collar of his overcoat up and gave his nose a thick blow into his handkerchief in the hope that it would last him a while. He needed this to go well.

* * * *

There she was, waiting under the awning of the cafe to escape the rain. She wasn't looking up, so Charlie took a moment to watch her. The brisk but easy way she had of moving, which had so attracted him to her, showed even when she was shaking her umbrella and surreptitiously straightening the seams on her stockings- real silk stockings! God she looked good in them, and in that g ress. It was simple but elegant, just like she was. She'd done her hair up the way he liked, though he'd never told her. Dark curls framed her face to one side, victory rolls on top of her head. A few wisps of brown hair were escaping in the damp and clinging to her cheek.

As he neared her, Charlie cleared his throat once for nervousness and then again for utility, hoping he didn't sound too hoarse.

“Lil!”

“Charlie, you made it.”

“Of course.” He cleared his throat again with a cough.  Say it! “You look beautiful.”

Lil tried to look embarrassed but only grinned as he took the umbrella from her and embraced her lightly, keeping his face averted. She rose on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

“Ah, maybe you shouldn't-” He pulled away with a hand between them, finishing shyly. “I'm not feeling so good.”

“You're not?”

“It's nothing but I-”

As if he to demonstrate his voice cracked on the last word and he turned to cough into one fist. When he started it was hard to stop. He was desperate both to ease the itch in his chest but also to look bright and well, and that urge won out after a few husking barks. Were his cheeks burning? Something about the kind way she was looking at him made him want to sink into the ground.

“No kidding!” She said, then. “I don't mind.”

“I do. I don't want to get you sick. I wasn't going to come but I- I couldn't stand you up.”

That was an understatement. The thought of her waiting under the awning for him in the rain, her face gradually falling as she realised he wasn't just a little late, was more than he could bear. He could have sent one of the boys to run a note to her, perhaps, but he didn't quite trust them. Not with a girl like her. As it was, she really didn't seem to mind. Perhaps he could keep it together for the date and a few dances and wait until he got back to his bunk to fall apart in a sniffling mess. He could but hope, though the needling tingle in the back of his nose suggested otherwise.

“Lets go inside.” He crooked an arm and she followed him easily, keeping in step with all the ease he'd seen her display on the dance floor.

Inside the cafe was nice enough. The light was a little too harsh to be truly romantic but they were the last patrons of the evening and it was quiet. A swing band was playing the hits on the wireless, something by the Glen Miller Orchestra. Once they were inside a wood panelled booth it was as though they were the only people in the world. When Lil excused herself for a moment, Charlie took the opportunity to blow his nose again. It was running freely and every slight sniffle fanned the ticklish, sneezy feeling and made his nostrils twitch in what he was sure was an unattractive way.

He scarcely managed to return it to his lap before Lil was hovering at his side, asking him a question in her quiet voice.

He wanted to answer her, but the tickling in his nose wasn't going away. At first he could quell it with a heavy breath out, but the next sniff in just made it worse. He was going to have to sneeze, no avoiding it. He could feel his nostrils flaring, and he barely had time to snatch his handkerchief from his pocket before-

“Ha-TCCh-oo!” The sound is heavier than he hoped it would be, yet it does little to quell the itch, leaving him blinking at the light in the ceiling in anticipation of another. “Hah- Hk---KSSch! Ugh, I'm sorry. Excuse me.”

“Bless you.”

“Th-thank y- Ha---TSCHuh!”

“Bless you!”

Lil touched his arm just for a moment,and suddenly he felt fine again. Then she slid into the booth opposite him and he found himself shivering with sudden chills at the withdrawal of her heat.

“What do you want to eat?” He asked, to distract her. “I'm not too hungry, but...”

She gave him a sympathetic eye. “You need to eat something. I'm sure they don't feed you boys enough. Perhaps some soup? I'll have some if you will.”

Suddenly soup sounded like the best idea anyone had ever had.

“You drive a hard bargain.” He gave her a smile, and she returned it. This was going better than he had expected. Unfortunately it couldn't last.

Their food arrived and he was surprised by how glad he was of it. It was hot and soothing on his throat, less painful to swallow than a sandwich would have been. At the same time, the steam from it made his nose run so much he had to retreat to the restroom to blow it. When he came back, no sooner did he sit back down then he was sneezing again. He struggled with it for a long moment, blinking furiously. The itch was everywhere, in his eyes, in his throat, right through his nose. He hovered the handkerchief in his open hands and turned away, waiting.

“You'll have to to huh...ah-” Nothing. He shook his head then it mounted again. “Excuse me, sorry...

hk-TCCh-oo! Ha-TSSh-uh! TSSch!... ugh...”

He finished with a little groan. His handkerchief was very much the worse for wear, and every rub irritated his already red nostrils. His nose and upper lip were starting to smart in the air.

Lillian saw his discomfort and without saying a word reached in her purse and drew out her own hankie, smaller than his and more delicate, but mercifully clean and dry.

“I'b sorry.” He said thickly as he took it.

“No, the right answer is 'thank you.'” She paused. “And you're welcome. You keep it.”

Her sharp, dark eyes caught his fingers pressing above his eyes. “You're getting a headache.” It was an comment, not a question, so he didn't correct her that he had, in fact, had the wretched thing all day. It was merely intensifying as the congestion got harder to handle. As it was, her compassionate observation made his heart swoop in her chest as surely as any overt expression of sympathy might have done. Maybe she really cares for me. Maybe...

Things were less awkward after that. They talked for a long time, punctuated by the occasional burst of sneezes, quickly stifled.  Again and again he had to interrupt her or himself to cough. Eventually he gave up trying to contain it and just turned from her, one hand holding the hankie in a polite fist over his mouth, the heel of the other pressing into the top of his ribcage to ease the ache there.

“I'm so sorry. What were you saying?”

Lil had finished her own soup while his remained mostly untouched. She put her spoon down and closed her hand around his own where he returned it to the table.

“Never mind that. You sound awful, Charlie.”

He shrugged. “I'm alright. It's just a h-hah...” His voice rose in pitch, he couldn't help it. “Just a... a head cold... excuse m'TSSCu!-IDSTchuh!-TSSCHah!” Oh darn, that was loud and as wet as it sounded.

“Bless. Some head cold.”

“I'm sorry, you must think I'm disgusting. I- I sneeze a lot when I'm sick. It's nothing, really.”

“So I see. Maybe we should get the bill, anyway.”

He did so, grateful for the distraction. Rising to his feet to get the bill made him feel woozy for a moment, and another shiver ran through him, pricking up the hairs on his arms. He helped her into her coat and then paused, facing her. In her heels she was only a little shorter than he was and he could look right into her eyes. They were a lovely brown, clear and kind of serious. He was blushing again, he just knew it. Still, no harm in asking.

“So...Lil... d'you want to go hear a band?”

Her eyes sparkled, and then narrowed as she looked him up and down.

“I don't know, Charlie.” She said, “May I-”

Before he could pull away Lil reached up and cupped a hand at his cheek, trying to feel his temperature.

“Hmm.” She said, shaking her head. In truth it was too warm out to tell, but she didn't like the glazed look in his eyes. “I think you should go to bed.”

“Oh.” Charlie stuttered to silence. His brain felt sluggish, unable to conduct an argument and paralysed by the fear that maybe she didn't want to go dancing, didn't want to be seen with him. He couldn't blame her, he was a mess.

“Well, I- hk-KISChuh!” It burst out before he could stop it. He smothered the sneeze and the ones that followed with his wrist but they still tore his throat and made his head ache. He found himself thinking how much more miserable they would be in his bunk by himself when they'd parted ways and all his buddies were out picking up their respective girls. It wasn't fair.

There was a little silence filled only by the sound of the wireless. Ella Fitzgerald was singing, oblivious to his predicament.

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'

Birds singing in the sycamore tree...

“I like this song.” Lil said, obviously trying to fill the pause.

“Then perhaps we should have one dance.”

Perhaps he was made bold by knowing that there was no way this evening could end worse, or perhaps she was right and he was feverish. Whichever it was, with one movement, Charlie swept an arm around Lil's waist. Instinctively she settled hers at his shoulder and rested the other in his cupped hand, her fingers very slender next to his. He swayed with the music for a measure, his firm grip bringing her effortlessly into rhythm with him, and then began to spin her around the floor to an easy swing tempo. She followed easily as he swung her out then brought her into his arms again and their feet added neat percussion to the music.

Stars fading but I linger on, dear

Still craving your kiss...

There was a brief, disastrous moment when the sneezy tickle returned to his nostrils as suddenly and insistently as if he had inhaled a feather. Without even thinking he tucked his head from her, burying it in the crook of his arm to stifle it. “Kschmph!”

“Bless you.” Lil whispered into his ear, not even missing a beat as he brought her back in a neat circle.

Say nightie-night and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

When I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me.

The spinning was starting to make him dizzy and he fudged a step, banging his shin on the hard edge of a table. Just as abruptly a male voice interrupted them from behind the counter.

“Will you two lovebirds move on already? We're closing up.”

“Right. Sorry.”

They fled, laughing, before the man could complain again.

Outside the rain had stopped, though it dripped from the trees and ran in the gutters a like river. The sky was darker but a warm wind was driving the clouds away. Charlie still hadn't let go of her arm, and she hadn't pulled away. He gave her a long, tired look.

“Guess I'll say goodnight.” He said at last. His voice was so thick, it was more of a “gooddight” and the words hurt his throat.

“Are you kidding? It's too bad to be sick and alone too.”

He was melting. He felt giddy again and this time it wasn't his cold. It was a shame he was so practical, and had to point out-

“You can't follow me back the barracks.” It was half-true. She wasn't that kind of girl and he didn't think he was that kind of man.

“If you want... it's early yet. Curfew is hours away and my landlady is out tonight. Maybe you could come in, have a cup of tea and dry your things. See if we can't find you some cough syrup....Summer colds are the worst.” she added sympathetically.

Optimism soared in Charlie's chest. “Well, if you'll be home alone, you at least need someone to walk you back.”

“That's the spirit.”

“And we'll go dancing another time?”

“Absolutely. Come on.”

So he took her arm again and they set off along the street. Despite the cooler air he was feeling better than he had all day, all things considered, better than he had for weeks. Shadows lengthened around them, the crickets began to chirp again and Lil was singing under her breath.

Dream a little dream of me...

[recsnrecaps]

Meteor Garden (2001) Recap: Episode 1

Hi folks, it's 2019 and I'm finally fulfilling my childhood resolution to watch this drama. You have no idea - Meteor Garden was such a hit back in the day. However, back then it was only available either at specific time slots on TV or on crappy VCDs that were passed around the community (i.e. schoolgirls and aunties). I never could be bothered to watch it properly.

Imagine my surprise when I chanced across it on Netflix. I am aware that there's a 2018 remake of Meteor Garden, as well as the Japanese Hana Yori Dango and the Korean Boys Over Flowers, but the 2001 Taiwanese version is the original drama that spawned the madness. The buzz around the 2018 version is laughably negligible compared to the craziness in 2001. I'm so ready to experience the magic of 流星花园.

So without further ado, here we go.

Episode 1: Summary

We are introduced to Shan Cai (Barbie Hsu), who rides a crappy scooter to school. Right off the bat we realize that the school caters to the rich and the elite, where students are decked out in designer wear and get NT500000 (~ USD16000) nose jobs during the school holidays.

The fashion rivalry between classmates Bai He (Belinda Cheng) and Qian Hui (Zhang Ruo Zhen) cracks me up. It's petty, exaggerated, and deliciously obnoxious, solidly setting us viewers up with the premise of a school drama about rich kids.

A very normal Li Zhen (An-ting Yeh) appears to be Shan Cai's classmate and friend. She's pretty serious about her homework, having borrowed extra books to read up for the upcoming report assignment. Shan Cai laughs that Li Zhen might be the only student serious about studying in this school, everyone else comes to socialize instead. I’m guessing Li Zhen is on scholarship and needs to maintain her grades.

We cut to a classroom with a boy clearing out his books in order to drop out of the school. A crowd forms around him and the teacher (Bu Xue Liang) approaches to find out why he is leaving and to persuade him not to. However, upon finding out that the boy had offended F4, the teacher doesn't push the matter and instead encourages the boy to leave. Shan Cai watches helplessly from the sidelines and rolls her eyes at the hypocritical teacher.

In class, in a further act of hypocrisy, the teacher gives a lecture on the value of conscience.

Conscience. It's what we call 'moral courage'. It's the most basic quality mankind should have. In Chinese history, Confucius had the strongest conscience. Today, we'll discuss his core thinking. It focuses on benevolence. By benevolence, it means you do unto others what you would want them to do unto to you.

Unable to stomach his empty words, Shan Cai leaves the classroom in a huff. She heads to the roof launching a tirade against the unfairness of the University and coins the term "Pig Head 4". "So what if your family owns the school," she declares. "You better not mess with me. I'll never submit to you."

The 4 in question are just arriving at the University in their comfortable chauffeured rides. We get to watch the boys saunter around and the camera obliges with close ups on each one of them as they stride into campus.

Dao Ming Si (Jerry Yan aka Yan Cheng Xu)

Hua Ze Lei (Vic Zhou aka Zai Zai aka Zhou Yu Min)

Xi Men (Ken Chu aka Zhu Xiao Tian)

Mei Zhuo (Vanness Wu aka Wu Jian Hao)

Shan Cai and friend watch in horror as the teacher accidentally bumps into Dao Ming Si, spilling coke all over him. Apologizing frantically, he kneels over Dao Ming Si, attempting to wipe the soda off his shoes. Dao Ming Si ignores his apologies and we get to hear his trademark catchphrase, "If apologizing is enough, what do we need police for?"

Dao Ming Si waves the teacher off to the side and viciously kicks over the basket of balls while striding off. Shan Cai gapes in amazement at his arrogance. Suddenly, a hand reaches out to righten the fallen basket. It's Hua Ze Lei (known as Lei to his friends), who has a perpetually blank expression on his face and appears to be the only member of the F4 who isn't a douche. While adjusting the basket, he turns and makes brief eye contact with Shan Cai, then hurries off after Dao Ming Si.

At the cafe where Shan Cai works part time, she complains to her co-worker Xiao You (Rainie Yang) about her awful school and the awful boys. It’s exposition time! We learn that F4 Stands for Flower 4, and the boys belong to 4 rich and influential families who own the school. When Xiao You prompts her to confirm that the boys are really all that bad, Shan Cai hesitates and says that maybe one of the 4 is “different”. Methinks she’s starting to have a crush on someone!

As the two continue their conversation, we learn that Shan Cai used to be very outspoken against bullies, in contrast with her current passive nature. Xiao You remarks that she hardly recognizes the Shan Cai now. Inwardly, Shan Cai agrees, hating herself for turning into a coward.

When Shan Cai returns home, she makes an attempt to tell her family she doesn’t want to continue studying at this school. Unfortunately, her mother would hear nothing of it. Turns out her mother had pulled strings to get her daughter into the elite Yingde University. Her mother is fixated on Shan Cai getting a good boyfriend from school and networking well with people from high society so that their family can ascend into a higher social strata. Shan Cai’s poor dad gets berated by his wife for not getting a promotion for the past many years, unlike their neighbors. As the parents bicker, the resentments pile up, making for very awkward dinner conversation. In order to pacify them, Shan Cai promises that she would continue to study at Yingde University.

What a weird couple.

That evening, the F4 hang out at a bar. The boys appear unaccustomed to such a venue, noting with puzzlement that the establishment doesn't serve foie gras or vintage wine. We get to hear them in conversation for the first time ever, teasing Dao Ming Si about his unruly hair and his rigorous hairstyling session to tame it. Lei remains ever silent, using only a thumbs down gesture to communicate his opinion on Dao Ming Si’s new hairstyle. Throughout the night, he keeps staring at his mobile, as if awaiting a call.

It turns out that the boys are only there because Xi Men's latest girl wanted to meet Xi Men at the bar. Which begs the question - why are the other 3 following  Xi Men on his date?! In any case, according to show logic, it’s the right course of action as everyone is present when the loser boyfriend of Xi Men’s girl shows up with a gang of hooligans and causes a scene. The boys slip into action and begin beating up the hooligans. All except Lei, who gets up and slips the owner of the bar NT15000 (~USD500) for the damages before leaving.

The next day at school, Shan Cai stands up for Li Zhen who had accidentally tripped and spilled dirt all over Dao Ming Si. I actually feel sorry for the poor dude who keeps getting things spilled on him. To put a stop to Li Zhen’s apologies, Dao Ming Si does his usual rough shove and pushes Li Zhen into the wall, incurring the wrath of Shan Cai. She shouts at him, calling him a parasite leeching off his parents and declares that the F4 should be called Pig Head 4. Dao Ming Si announces that she has some nerve and stalks away. As the four boys walk past, she thinks to herself that she's going to be dead meat.

At home, she receives zero support from her parents when she mentions once again that she wants to quit school. Instead her manipulative mother fakes a panic attack that miraculously subsides when Shan Cai promises to finish her studies. That night, Shan Cai sleeps restlessly, dreaming of being tormented.

At school, Shan Cai receives the F4 red card and a series of montages show how her life becomes hell. Everyone shuns her, even Li Zhen and Shan Cai is subjected to prank after prank. Finally, a drenched and annoyed Shan Cai escapes to the roof. She leans over the ledge and yells her heart out, cursing the Pig Head 4 with bankruptcy and high cholesterol, for their bodies to be ripped apart by horses and their souls to go to hell. Haha, how inventive. She doesn’t realize that Lei was on the roof too, privy to her outburst. She startles when he asks her if there was anything else. What a delightfully awkward moment. Shan Cai backs away warily as Lei leans forward, but he was only offering her his handkerchief. She accepts it and dabs at her wet hair. Softening up to Lei, she thanks him and begins to apologies for her earlier curses. However Lei cuts her short saying “I’m not interested in other people’s business.” He turns to leave and Shan Cai makes to return him the handkerchief. He ignores the gesture and tells her to throw it away as it is already garbage anyway.

What an awful thing for Shan Cai to hear. He is insinuating that because she used the handkerchief, the handkerchief no longer has any value to him and deserves to be in the trash. Shan Cai thinks back to her earlier assessment of Lei and concludes that he must not be so different from the other 3 after all.

The episode ends with Shan Cai heading home with her scooter. Except this time she has to wheel it along the road because her fellow students had damaged it. A flashy convertible pulls up beside her, and Dao Ming Si leans out to gloat at her. He tells her that he’s impressed with her determination, and will work harder to humiliate her.

Episode 1: Thoughts

Oh where do I begin! This episode does a good job of setting up so many interesting characters, especially the F4. Dao Ming Si appears cocky and rude, but he's the quintessential bad boy. I fully expect a redeeming arc on how he is actually a big softie. In contrast, Lei is mysterious and charming. I wonder what's the story behind his anti social behavior. The other two members kind of fade into the background as we haven't actually seen them do anything except pose and strut around. As for our heroine, Shan Cai, I suppose she's relatable enough as a first lead. We’ve met her family, schoolmates and friends and have a decent insight into her motivations for her actions. I'm so excited for her to show some spunk and challenge the boys to a showdown soon. 

Despite being 18 years old, the show retains its charm. Unfortunately, fashion-wise the show has not aged well at all. What we have here is literally a time capsule of dated 90s trends such as spaghetti strap tops, rebonded hair and frameless spectacles. Plus Dao Ming Si’s ridiculous bandanna is just absurd.

We know in hindsight that this show kickstarted the entertainment careers of these 4 actors of F4. In 2001, after Meteor Garden aired, Sony Music Taiwan signed the 4 boys as an actual boyband bearing the name F4. It’s amazing how these formerly virtually unknown 4 individuals owe their success to this show.

Onward to the next episode!

[chocoluckchipz]

Forbidden Love That Wasn’t - 5

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The upbeat tunes pulsating through the room did little to soothe Adrien's nerves. If anything, it only intensified the rush of blood in his veins. People, moving around, dancing, chatting, greeting him, filled the room with chaos, edging on a border of overbearing. Adrien looked around, searching for the person who was on his mind, both hoping and dreading to find her. How in the world would he be able to talk to her today, Adrien didn't know, but that had to be done.

"Hey, Adrien! Kagami! We are here," Nino called from one of the private niches somewhere to the side. Kagami grabbed Adrien’s arm and pulled him in that direction. Alya, Nino and Luka were already present, sitting on couches encircling the niche and chatted. Nino stood up to meet them as Kagami, slightly nodding at the group as a greeting, proceeded to sit in one of the empty seats.

“Yo, dude!” Nino wrapped his arm around Adrien’s shoulder and grinned. “I see you made yourself extra pretty today.”

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Adrien nervously chuckled, scanning the crowd around. If Luka was here, that could only mean that-

“Looking for someone?” Alya quirk an eyebrow, observing Adrien.

“Ah, no.” Adrien snapped his eyes back to his friends, sitting down beside Kagami. “Actually yes. I was checking if any of the people I need to talk to were here already.”

“Like?”

“Mostly Father’s acquaintances and colleagues. Business relations. Why?”

“Someone I might be interested in?” Alya asked, sipping from her drink.

“Only if you want to write for a fashion section of your magazine.”

“No, thank you,” Alya puffed. "But do inform me if any of them will get involved in any kind of political intrigue or a scandal.”

“Will do," Adrien nodded. Alya turned to Kagami and his eyes briefly returned to the crowd. This time he was more careful, though, switching his attention to his friends regularly and even somewhat upkeeping the conversation.

“I should probably go find Marinette,” Luka said, standing up from the couch. "She's been gone for too long and might need help with those drinks."

"She'll be fine," Alya said, placing her glass on a coffee table in the middle. "Knowing her, she probably just took some extra time powdering her nose at the lady's room before getting to the bar."

“Speaking of drinks,” Kagami perked up. “Adrien, would you mind bringing me Rose Cocktail?”

“Not a problem." He immediately rose up. “Does anyone else want anything?”

“Nah.” Nino yawned. “We've got ours already.”

“Marinette’s getting mine,” Luka added.

“Alright,” Adrien said. “I’ll be right back then.”  

With an eager stride, he headed into the bar’s direction. The crowd got pretty thick by now, and he couldn't stop looking around, often stepping ahead without watching. So, it was no surprise that a dozen or so steps into his route Adrien bumped into someone. The woman gasped and tried to balance glasses in her hands. She didn't fall down herself only because Adrien had caught her on instinct just in time. However, whatever was the content of those glasses spilled all over her dress and his outfit.

"I'm so sorry," Adrien apologized as soon as he straightened them up and let her go. He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and only then looked at the girl before him. His breathing halted because locked on his were the eyes of the sky colour, framed in the longest of the eyelashes, set on flawless porcelain skin, entrapped by the dark hair of the person he knew very well. Her lips were slightly parted as she blinked at him and whispered, “Adrien?”

A treacherous smile sneaked onto Adrien’s face. “Marinette,” he breathed out, afraid to move an inch, in case she was a mirage. She looked gorgeous. Her dark pink knee-length dress looked simple and comfortable for a night of dancing, and yet it presented sophisticated enough to fit into Gabriel’s standards for the high fashion after-party. Her hair was gathered into an elegant updo, and Adrien instantly regretted that Marinette rarely wore that hairstyle - it looked incredible on her. He noticed she wore the necklace he gave her for her last birthday – a cherry blossom flower set in pink gold with a diamond centre and surrounded by a trio of pearls. His eyes darted to her ears to check if the pair of matching earrings had finally made it to her ears but no such luck. Yet just for a moment, Adrien found himself gawking. Marinette did have a great taste and knew how to present herself. Even his father recognized that and took her under his wing after years of refusing to even entertain the idea of a protégé. Just look at her now. Adrien dropped his gaze, feeling his heart tightening. It was irrational, he knew, but the thought that Marinette dressed up for Luka tonight somehow didn't sit right with him.

A moment later, Marinette's exasperated groan as she assessed the damages brought Adrien out of his trance.

“I’m so sorry.” He rushed to offered her his handkerchief, his sight following hers to a bright red stain starting from her chest area and all the way down to her hips. "I ruined your dress,” he murmured lost for anything else to say.

“No, that’s fine.” Marinette smiled at him. “I should be able to save it. With my level of clumsiness and years of experience, I've developed an almost foolproof system for such accidents, so don't worry."

Smiling, she looked at him the way she always did, full of love and kindness, but this time Adrien's heart skipped a beat. Gosh, she was so beautiful and he missed her so much and all he wanted to do was to wrap her up into his arms and give her a tight squeeze and-

"Your shirt is ruined, though," Marinette remarked. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Adrien replied, not taking his eyes off her. "It's old, so an excuse to throw it away is more than welcome."

Marinette skeptically raised an eyebrow. “It’s from this season’s collection, Adrien.”

"I guess then I am a spoiled, filthy-rich brat who doesn't wear anything a month after it's out."

“Sure you are,” Marinette giggled. “Tell that to your pants. They are at least three years old.”

"They are classy and wear well," Adrien pouted, ignoring the warmth that covered the tips of his ears - Marinette was paying attention to his pants? "I happened to love them a lot."

"Adrien? What- Oh!" Kagami stopped in her tracks once she noticed the red stains on the pair's clothes.

"I'm so sorry, Kagami," Marinette rushed to apologize. "It's all my fault. I was carrying-"

“Hey!” Adrien protested. “It was me who bumped into you. How is it your fault? Clearly-”

“Yeah, but if I would’ve paid more attention to where I was going, then-"

“Not buying it, Marinette. Let’s just agree that it was my-”

“Girls! Girls!” Kagami interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You are both pretty and both guilty. Still such children, I cannot take it."  

"What happen- Whoa! Girl!" Alya whistled coming from behind Kagami. "I thought you said you wore red for luck today, not for another disaster."

“I guess it’s not red enough.” Marinette shrugged her shoulders, a soft smile playing on her lips as the rest of their company joined them. Nino was more or less accustomed to those kinds of accidents but Luka looked concerned.

"I assume you don't have a spare, gorgeous dress on you by any chance?" Alya asked skeptically.

“Despite my reputation, I didn’t exactly plan to soak myself in wine, Alya.”

“Then I should probably take you home to change,” Luka offered. “I’m sure we can make it back in an hour or so.”

“I guess that’s our only solution,” Marinette nodded.

"No wait," Kagami interfered, folding her arms over her chest. "Adrien has to go home to change as well, right?"

“I’m afraid so,” Adrien agreed. “Red stains on a light shirt isn’t exactly trending these days.”  

“Then why don’t you take Marinette-” Kagami suddenly paused as her eyes fell on a security officer by the door. “Say, Adrien. You do have access to the offices upstairs anytime you want?”

“Well, technically yes, I do,” he replied, frowning. “Why?”

“There are rooms full of clothes over there, are there not?" Kagami asked, not really expecting an answer. “I am sure Gabriel wouldn’t mind if you two borrow a few of his pieces for the night.”

None of the group said a word for a few moments because the truth was that the party was held on the first floor of Gabriel’s offices and there were indeed rooms full of clothes upstairs. And Adrien, had unlimited access to go anywhere he wanted to go and to take anything he wanted to take. So, if he wanted, he could borrow clothes and let Marinette do the same.

“Well, theoretically-”

"Good," Kagami nodded. "Then it is settled. Go change and give something to Marinette, so no one has to leave anywhere.”

Adrien glanced at Marinette. She was looking at Alya, then Nino and Luka, then back to Alya with a lost expression on her face.

“Marinette?” Adrien said, touching her shoulder lightly. “If you don’t want to do that, I can take you home or—" he sighed, “—Luka can take you home-”

“Nonsense,” Kagami interfered. “It looked like raining when we were coming in and as far as I know Luka doesn't have a car, right?” She glanced at the young man in question, and he shook his head. "Adrien will be changing here so if you go home with Luka, Marinette, I doubt either of you will come back. You do not want to miss this party, do you? And frankly, I don't see why you would even consider wasting our time going home if there are clothes available right here.”

“Well, it does make sense," Alya added. "Plus, I'm sure Gabriel has some impressive dresses up there. Come one, Mari," she nudged. "Don't you want to wear a Gabriel exclusive for the evening?"

“I-”

“He won’t fire you,” Adrien ensured her. “I promise.”

“Go for it, dude,” Nino added and winked. “You might not get another chance.”

It took her another moment, but then Marinette sighed and finally murmured her agreement.

“We’ll be back soon,” Adrien said, taking Marinette by her hand and leading them through the crowd of people to the security guard to pick up an access card. They walked in silence until Marinette tried to apologize again and voice her doubts about borrowing from his father's collection. Adrien only insisted that the fault was entirely his and as long as they would return the pieces intact the next day there were absolutely no issues with loaning some clothes.

“In fact, we’d be a walking advertisement for him, and people usually get paid for this," Adrien was convincing her. "Father is lucky we're so nice to do it for free. And I mean I'm a supermodel, and you are gorgeous, so he is saving a lot of money right there."

Rapidly blushing, Marinette giggled and Adrien chuckled himself. Yet despite the usual banter, it felt awkward. It felt stiff. Adrien couldn’t focus. He yearned to ask more, longed to know about her week, about how she’d managed and if she’d learned whatever lessons his father insisted she had to learn this time, but all he could focus on was one thing – this was possibly his chance to finally talk to Marinette. They'd be alone for some time, and Kagami promised to entertain Luka for the time being. Technically Adrien could- He shook his head and tightened his hold on Marinette's hand. He delayed breaking up with Kagami to let her enjoy this party. Why would he hurt Marinette at the same time? She deserved more than anyone to have fun today. She worked so hard these past few weeks. He couldn't do this today. The talk needed to be done, but it could wait a little longer.

The needed room was soon reached, and upon entering, Adrien flicked on the lights. Marinette immediately headed towards the women’s wardrobe, pulling her hand away from his grasp. Adrien stilled for a second, disappointed by the sudden loss of warmth and comfort in his palm. He didn’t even realize they were still holding hands so natural it felt.

“I’ll take this one,” Marinette blurred out, clearly picking out the first dress off the rack.

Adrien frowned and shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” Marinette protested and glanced at the garment in her hands.

Adrien couldn't hold back a chuckle as she groaned. “Yeah. I didn’t think you were into the whole ‘Dracula meets the Fairy Queen in Wonderland while attending the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party’ look.”

Pouting, Marinette narrowed her eyes at him and put the dress back. It was one of those utterly ridiculous pieces every high designer had to produce. “Art for art’s sake,” Gabriel told her. “A creative expression that is made to marvel at rather than be worn." That specific dress was amongst a few other similar pieces that Marinette absolutely despised.

“Here,” Adrien walked a little further and pulled out a different dress. It was a shimmering floor-length gown with full sleeves, high neckline and a flared skirt. Despite the complete coverage, its fabric and cut made it look elegant and airy, almost ethereal. Gabriel called it “Moonlight.”

“You’ll look stunning in this one,” Adrien smiled, offering the gown to Marinette. That dress was one of her favourite pieces this season. Adrien knew that. She had told him that multiple times herself. A chance to wear it would be like a dream come true, and even Adrien could predict that in that gown Marinette would look absolutely stunning.

“I don’t know,” Marinette replied quietly. “It’s a bit too fancy for this party.”

"Come on, Mari," he almost begged. "With how much you've worked for this week to be a success you deserve to look fancy. You deserve this.”

“I won’t be able to move around much in it.”

"I'm sure it's more comfortable than it looks," he insisted. "Just try it on, and if it doesn't work, we can always find something else.”

He could see the hesitation lingering on her face for only a few more moments before she gave in. “Alright. But it’s only fair that I pick your outfit. And I think I know exactly what would fit you, M Agreste."

“I am intrigued, Mlle Dupain-Cheng. Do you really think you can make me look more gorgeous than I was before the unfortunate accident, oh great and powerful, the one and only protégé of Gabriel Agreste?”

"Just watch me," she winked and disappeared somewhere between the racks. In a few minutes, she emerged back with an ensemble in her hands.

“A black shirt and black jeans?" Adrien pouted. "That's so-"

“Don't rush with your verdict before you put this on,” Marinette interrupted. “Black is your colour. This shirt was tailored specifically for you and as such will bring out the best of your features and these jeans, as you say, are from your father’s formal wear collection. They’re still complying with the party’s dress code despite being a bit more casual than a pair of regular trousers but you'll also look a lot sexier in them.”

"I don't think I can look sexier than I already am," Adrien claimed with a straight face.

Marinette couldn't help but laugh. "You are so humble, you know."

"Well," he grinned laughing. "If no one else around here going to compliment me, why can’t I do that myself?”

"You are very pretty," Marinette smiled at him, and Adrien felt the world stop. “But I’m sure Kagami won’t mind you looking even better and will appreciate my efforts.” She pushed the clothes into his hands and took the dress out of his. “I’ll turn off the lights and change behind that screen. No peeking or you are dead.”

“That would be the sweetest death possible,” Adrien teased, fully expecting Marinette to rebuke him or, maybe, playfully smack his shoulder. Possibly, threaten him. Yet she said nothing. Her face went crimson, and she silently stomped away to her side of the room, switching the lights off on her way.

With the room back to darkness, Adrien didn’t waste any time. He quickly hid behind some of the racks and changed. The sky outside was dark and covered with clouds in preparation for a storm, but there was still some light coming in from the streetlights so Adrien could see himself more or less clearly in the mirror standing by one of the windows. Marinette was right – he did look rather good in those seemingly simple pieces. Perfect fit and sizing and one of his favourite colours. Satisfied, he stuck his soiled clothes in one of the bags lying around and sat on a nearby random box to wait for Marinette who still hadn’t emerged. He finally heard her whisper only about five minutes later, "Adrien?"

“Yes!” Jolting to an upright position, he tried to distinguish where she was, but the room looked as human-deprived as before.

“Could you—” the voice was coming from behind the screen by the window on the opposite side, the one Marinette vanished behind earlier. “Could you- help me?”

“Ah. Of course. Should I cover my eyes or are you in the clear?”

“You can keep them open if you don’t mind seeing my back.”

“Well, after our photoshoot-” Adrien chuckled coming closer but stopped as soon as Marinette came into view. She stood half turned to him, bathing in the soft light trickling from the window; her lips a bit ajar, eyes, though shyly, focused on him. The dress- Marinette in that dress looked absolutely breathtaking. Adrien sucked in air. If he didn’t know who she was, there would be no doubt in his mind, that that was Aphrodite herself, the pinnacle of Beauty who for some inexplicable reason was allowing him, a mere unworthy mortal, to behold her presence. His mind went blank, heart sprinting in a mad rush it’d never gone before. Breathing had never been so hard.

“I’m sorry,” Marinette whispered, her sight falling to the floor. “I was trying to deal with them myself, but I guess it's impossible. Could you help me out a little?”

Adrien swallowed and nodded, slowly walking closer. Marinette turned to face the window, revealing to him a row of tiny buttons going from the small of her back all the way up. She’d only managed a few from the bottom, and as he was fastening the rest, Adrien couldn’t help but steal a peek at the perfect, graceful curve of her back. His hands trembled, aching to touch, as the memory of just how soft Marinette’s skin was hit Adrien. Instinctively, he leaned closer and caught her scent. His throat went dry, and everything around seemed to blur. Adrien closed his eyes and almost growled, his hands working slower and slower on those buttons. This wasn’t happening. Not again. He couldn’t. She was his friend- This was not how it-

The thunder struck somewhere in the distance, splitting the silence of the room. Adrien snapped his eyes open and looked at Marinette. She seemed to be frozen in place. He couldn’t even tell if she was breathing, she stood so still.

Barely breathing himself, Adrien finally allowed the thoughts that he’d been suppressing for the last two weeks if not longer to avalanche into his mind. He loved Ladybug, but she didn't want him. He gave Kagami a chance but spending more time together only proved that that was a mistake. Kagami wasn’t what he needed. Yes, she was very similar to him, but she also was everything he was trying to escape from. Rules, expectations, perfection, achievements. Adrien had had enough of those for his whole life. He wanted something more. Something different. He wanted warmth, laughter and trust. He needed intimacy. He ached for love. For different reasons but neither Kagami nor Ladybug could give that to him.

Marinette, on the other hand- Marinette was warmth and comfort, she was laughter and smiles, she was tears of joy and hugs to make him feel better, she was acceptance and love. His best friend, someone who liked his lame jokes and baked him treats. Someone who loved him and cared about him so much that she’d put aside her own happiness for the sake of his. Someone who wasn’t perfect but who also knew all of his quirks and accepted them, accepted him just the way he was. Someone who could understand him, and when she couldn't she tried her best. Someone incredibly beautiful inside and out. Spending time with Marinette only left him hungry for more. Being away felt like torture. She was everything Adrien craved for, everything he lacked. And she managed to be that for him while being his ‘just a friend’.

However, now- now he found himself yearning for more. Marinette- The memories of their photoshoots- The warmth of her embrace, the comfort of holding her close, his fingers against her skin, running along every curve of her body, teasing, enticing, her touch on his chest, his face, his arms, her lips so close, her breath burning against his lips-

The thunder struck again, concealing a low rumble from the back of Adrien’s throat, as he struggled to restrain himself from pressing Marinette against the wall and kissing her senseless. His hands came to a standstill as the question he was dreading to ask himself finally broke through. Was he- was he still in love with Ladybug if that was Marinette who constantly hovered on his mind these days? If it was Marinette and not his partner who made him feel like this? If it was Marinette without whom he couldn’t imagine his life anymore? Not Ladybug. Slowly Adrien got used to seeing her less and less, and to be honest, he didn’t even feel that bad about it. But if the last week had proven anything, it was that Adrien's days were bleak and grey without Marinette. Sure, they still texted every day, but that wasn't enough. Not even nearly enough for him. And Nino was right. Adrien did spend more time than usual preparing for today. How could he not? He was going to see Marinette. Being with her was just so- Was it really only lust or was it something more?

Boom!

The loud sound roared through the room once again, followed by a sound of heavy rain finally coming down. A soft whiff of air escaped Adrien’s lips as he smiled to himself. Of course. How did he not realize it sooner? His heart had changed owners and he didn't even notice. As if on autopilot, his arms, leaving the buttons, slowly reached forward and wreathed around Marinette's middle from behind, pulling her flush against his chest. He leaned forward and buried his face at the base of her neck, letting her name slip from his tongue, and as it did his lips brushed lightly against her skin. Marinette stiffed and half-turned her head to look at him.

“Adrien?”

He only hummed in the crook of her neck, nuzzling her skin.

“I didn’t know you were that afraid of thunder," she said quietly, her body feeling more and more tense in his arms with every passing moment. Adrien smiled. There it was – a classic Marinette. Giving him an escape route, as always. All he had to do now was to admit to suddenly developing an astraphobia and laugh it off, and they could go back to their normal selves. Only Adrien didn't want that anymore. So instead he asked, "Is it too late to hope that you're still in love with me?”

Marinette froze. Adrien couldn't even hear her breathe, yet he was confident that the wildly-paced heartbeat he felt was hers. He pressed her closer. “Please, tell me I’m not too late.”

“You knew?”

“For a few weeks now.”

“How?”

“The day I told you about Kagami in that café, I returned for my keys before Nino saw them.”

Marinette flinched. “Adrien, I- You don’t have to- I’ll be fine- and Kagami- She is perfect for you-”

Adrien stopped her by turning her around to face him, never letting her out of his embrace. His eyes locked on Marinette’s as he tenderly brushed away the hair from her cheek.

"None of that answers my question."

"It doesn't matter." Marinette smiled, her lips trembling, eyes quickly filling with tears. "You made a choice, and I respect it."

"I made a mistake, and I want to fix it," Adrien replied. "Marinette, I-" His sight fell on her lips, and he swallowed. "I- I think-"

Adrien wanted to explain, but tears slowly started to roll from Marinette's eyes despite her desperately trying to smile and show him that everything was alright, that she was just fine. His heart ached at her struggle, arms tightening around her fragile frame in the acute need to protect and to comfort the one he now knew he loved. He didn’t know how, though, and he didn't have time to contemplate. So, without thinking, Adrien did something that surprised even him. Holding her gaze, he leaned forward excruciatingly slowly and caught Marinette’s lips in a kiss. He kissed her gently, his lips barely moving, silently whispering to her everything he wanted to tell - apologizes, confessions and promises- in touch so seemingly insignificant yet so intimate, tender and profound, it changed his world instantly. The kiss was short, but when Adrien pulled back there was no doubt in his mind – Marinette was the one he was looking for.

“I’m -” Adrien breathed out. “I’m in love with you, Marinette. Please, tell me I didn’t realize it too late.”

Marinette replied with a quiet voice as another lighting stroke, and her face shined again. “I always loved you, Adrien. I never stopped. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able not to love you.”

Without hesitation, Adrien pulled her into another kiss, this one full of passion and fervour he couldn’t contain anymore. Marinette gasped at first, but as Adrien drew her flush against himself, she melted into his embrace. Her hands wrapped at the nape of his neck, as he, taking her by the hips, lifted her up and seated her on a nearby wall side-table to even out their heights. Briefly, Adrien let her lips go and trailed kisses down her neck and back up – thankfully he didn’t fasten all of those buttons – capturing her mouth once again. In that short period, Adrien heard his name slipped from Marinette's lips, and that was the most arousing sound he’d ever heard, so instinctively he pushed forward, pressing Marinette against the wall and deepening the kiss. This was where he belonged - in Marinette’s arms. His own arms tightened around her so much he didn’t know anymore where was he and where was Marinette. It was just them. Them as a whole, as a unit, unified by love and this kiss. And when Marinette pulled away he didn't want to let her go, trying to follow but she withdrew even further, getting off the table and stepping aside.

“I’m sorry, Adrien, but we can’t do that,” she whispered, looking what Adrien deemed to be upset or even scared, though, the reasons for that remained a mystery to him. “You have Kagami. I can’t do that,” she repeated.

Confused, Adrien tried to reach for her. “But I love you, Marinette.”

“Yet—” She stepped away even more. “—you’re dating Kagami.”

“I’ve already decided to end it.”

“Adrien,” Marinette insisted, her voice suddenly breaking. “I can’t do that. You can’t do that. You aren’t thinking clearly right now. It’s just a momentary weakness.”

“It’s not a momentary weakness, Marinette,” Adrien protested. “I honestly-"

“No! You’re just not realizing it," Marinette said stepping away even further. "It’s just lust- from that photoshoot- I went too far- I’m so sorry- it can’t be love-”

“Why? Marinette, why can’t it be love?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense!” she cried out, tears starting to spill out of her eyes again. "I was always there for you but always a friend- you always said I’m nothing more than a friend- you told me that for years. You told me that last week- and now suddenly you love me? Adrien- this- No- it's because we were- that photoshoot- it can’t be love- you would’ve seen me before- you would’ve noticed- but you- you never did- never- you never saw me, Adrien! And now you suddenly do? After that photoshoot-”

“Marinette-” Adrien tried to reach out to her, but she just shook her head and took another step back.

“I can’t do this- You are Kagami’s boyfriend- I can’t-”

“Marinette-” Adrien made a mistake of stepping closer because as soon as he did Marinette snatched her purse and her clothes from a nearby stool and dashed away. After a short hesitation, Adrien rushed after her, and since running in a high-fashion gown that was a little long on her and with a bundle of clothes in her hands wasn't very efficient, he easily caught up, sped right past, stopped ahead and caught her in his arms.

Marinette couldn’t stop in time to avoid Adrien but once she found herself pressed flush against his chest, she didn’t pull back. Instead, she let her tears flow and whispered, “Why do you do this, Adrien? Why do you not see me for years and only when you become unattainable you say you love me? I was working so hard to get over you.” She trembled in his arm as tears rolled down her cheeks. He only pulled her closer as she added, “Why do you have to hurt me so much?”

“I’m sorry,” Adrien whispered into the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, Marinette. I am an idiot. I admit it. It was dumb and stupid of me not to notice you before. I-" he paused and inhaled before murmuring, "I had my attention somewhere else."

Marinette tensed as he continued, “I'm only human, Marinette, and I make mistakes. It takes me time to realize things, and I take wrong turns all the time, and I'm sorry, I know my obliviousness doesn’t help my case- and yes, you’re right - that photoshoot did help me to see you in a different light but, Marinette it helped me it didn’t start the process because you’ve already meant so much to me. I just needed a little push to see that, and that did it.”

Adrien felt Marinette almost curl on herself in his arms so he lightly nuzzled her hair and added, "I know the situation isn't ideal, but can we at least try? I love you, and you love me so can we give us a chance?”

“You aren’t free to give us a chance,” Marinette replied. “I would never forgive myself for stealing a boyfriend from a friend. Kagami loves you.”

Adrien sighed. "I was practically forced into that relationship. My father had this weird idea that I absolutely needed a girlfriend, and I thought that maybe it would help me to move on from someone who never returned my feelings, so I agreed. But he didn't give me much time to choose, so I made a mistake. I choose Kagami because I knew she liked me and I thought she would be perfect for me, but I was wrong. I mean, Kagami is great, and I am sure she'll make someone very happy, but it isn't going to be me. She isn't what I need. You are. I was trying. I swear, I was trying to fall in love with Kagami, but it isn’t happening. And at the same time, I’ve been trying my best to resist these newfound feelings for you and I can’t. They completely overwhelm me. I love you, Marinette. I love you so much I don't know if I can handle it.”

Marinette hid her face in his chest, her purse and the clothes in her hands falling to the floor as she gripped his shirt and cried. She tried to say something through her sobs but couldn't. There were only a few coherent words that Adrien distinguished, but those were enough to understand that Marinette hated the idea of breaking up someone's relationship. She loathed to be the other woman or steal a boyfriend from a friend who she knew loved him.

"Kagami knows I don't love her," Adrien responded, softly running his hands up and down Marinette's back in an attempt to comfort her. “I was always honest with her about that. I know it will be difficult, but she is our friend. She’ll understand.”

Marinette only snuggled closer to him.

"And," he continued. "You aren't breaking up anyone. I told you I’d already decided yesterday that it has to end. I'm just waiting for Fashion Week to be over so we can deal with it in private."

Marinette raised her face to him. Her eyes were full of tears, and yet he saw a little hope glimmering amongst the hesitation. His first instinct was to grab onto that and- Adrien stilled. The last thing he needed now was to push. He spent years pushing Ladybug, and it got him nowhere. If anything, it got him farther from his goal. He could lose Marinette too if he continued this way and that was the last thing Adrien wanted. He couldn't lose her as a friend; he dared to dream of a much happier ending than that. Therefore, this had to be done the right way.

“You aren’t stealing anyone from anyone. I promise,” Adrien reassured her, pulling away. He leaned down, picking up Marinette’s things and added, “I am done pretending I'm fine with stringing a friend along while loving another. It isn't fair to Kagami or me or you, but, please, please, don’t guilt yourself. It couldn’t be your fault. I hadn’t even realized I was in love with you until just now and in fact, I was planning to talk to you tomorrow and tell you I knew about your feelings and- and I was going to tell you I don’t love you so you could move on.”

“Oh."

“Yeah,” Adrien nervously chuckled. “But then I saw you in there, and you were so beautiful, and I couldn’t even think about losing you, so it just all clicked and- and I realized how helplessly in love I'm with you."

There it was – that adorable blush on Marinette’s cheeks and a tiny genuine smile on her lips.

“But I won’t force myself on you, Marinette. I'm sorry for my behaviour back there. I should’ve kept myself in check.”

“I let myself go too,” Marinette replied. “I-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he interrupted.

“Kissing someone else’s boyfriend is not exactly the pinnacle of decency.”

“I kissed you first,” Adrien rebuked, his eyes glazing over her lips. “You would’ve never kissed me back if I didn’t do that first.”

"You're right," Marinette suddenly smirked. "It’s your fault-”

“Meanie,” Adrien pouted. "Couldn't we shared the blame?"

“Your fault," Marinette continued. "For being so handsome and charming, I couldn't resist you."

Adrien snorted and laughed. "Alright, alright. I accept my defeat. I'm to blame entirely."

Marinette stuck her tongue at him and fell silent. He locked his eyes on her as well and didn't say a word. For a few moments, they simply stood there, looking at each other until Adrien cleared his throat and asked, "Will you think about it? About us? We could wait for things to settle down before deciding on anything if you want. I’ll wait for you - it’ll be worth it. And if you decide that we’d better remain friends, then I’ll accept that too. I promise.”

Without words, Marinette nodded and took her things from his hands.

“Thank you,” Adrien whispered, gently brushing her hair in its place. "Should we go back then?"

“Would you mind if I go home instead?”

Adrien shook his head. “Not at all. I don’t feel like going down there myself.”

“But unlike me, you have to.”

"I do," he groaned. "The perks of being an Agreste."

“You’ll survive,” Marinette giggled. “But do apologize to Luka for me.”

“Of course. Do you have a ride?”

“I’ll take a taxi.”

“That won’t do,” Adrien protested. “I’ll have my driver take you home.”

“Oh, no need. I can manage-"

“Marinette,” Adrien interrupted. “It’s night and storming out there. I want you home safe and don't blame me, but I don't trust random taxi drivers at night with you looking so incredibly beautiful. Someone might steal you away, and then I'll die of sorrow,” he wailed dramatically. “We'll be the New Age Romeo and Juliet, and Alya will write our tragic love story that never happened in a play with Nino composing the most touching music for it. Do you really want that? People will be devastated after watching it, crying in anguish and misery for our lost happiness. Plus," he coked his head to the side and winked at her. "Just think about what my father would do when he finds out that one of his precious dresses was in a public taxi. Can you imagine the horror?"

The corners of Marinette’s lips twitched in a smile. “You are still such a dork even in situations like this.”

“Your smile’s worth the trouble," Adrien replied with a smile of his own before pulling out his cell and calling Gorilla. Then he quickly finished fastening her buttons, and they walked in silence all the way down to the foyer to pick up Marinette’s coat and out to the back door where Gorilla was waiting for them.

“I’m sorry for spoiling this evening for you,” Adrien said, once Marinette climbed into the back seat of his car.

“That’s fine,” Marinette timidly smiled at him. “You aren’t the only one to blame for everything.”

“I’ll take the full responsibility as we agreed,” he said, leaning down and tenderly kissing Marinette’s forehead. “You should go home and rest and then think about what I said, okay? And call me. I’ll wait for your call.”

“Okay.” Marinette nodded “Good night.”

“Good night,” Adrien replied and closed the door. He watched the car to turn the corner and then directed his attention back to the venue. Walking back into the building, he stopped in the main foyer. A huge "G" hung from the ceiling, overpowering everything else in the space. Adrien silently scoffed. It was about the right time he grew a pair and finally told his father to back off ordering him around. He was done playing games and blindly following the rules. He finally knew what he wanted, who he wanted. He finally had a real chance to be happy, and he'd be damned if he would let his father and his stupid “No Dating Internally” rule to stand in the way. The only one who was allowed to stop him now was Marinette. His eyes shifted to the entrance of the hall where people were busy celebrating. Somewhere inside were his friends and Kagami. He hoped she'd understand. He knew she wouldn't like what he was going to say, and he hated hurting her, but that had to be done. Neither of them could carry on like this. One breath in and one out for bravery and with a silent prayer in his heart Adrien went in.

The necklace Adrien gave Marinette for her birthday - 

The dress Adrien chose for Marinette to wear -

The necklace can be yours just for 1700 EURO - https://www.cwsellors.co.uk/products/mikimoto-18ct-rose-gold-diamond-akoya-pearl-cherry-blossom-necklace-pp-20322d-z 

Next >

[imaginedolanscribbles]

A heart’s journey [10/10]

Parts ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

warnings: forced marriage, drama/angst

words: 4.534 [this is stupid long, I know, but IT’S A FINALE GUYS]

summary: a wedding...or not?

tagslist: @graydolan12 @sweet-dolans @obsessedlittleangel-deactivated @ninjadurtles @weirdshapedbawlz

TEN

What’s going on? Did Grayson not get his way? Did the Duchess manage to convince him in the end? Are my family safe after all? Do I marry him? Am I prepared to marry someone who doesn’t even like me? Whose life I ruined? How am I supposed to do this?

All the thoughts swirling in your head are making you feel dizzy and it’s a good thing you’re sitting down, because otherwise you probably would’ve fallen over. There's people pulling at your hair and scrubbing you down with scented soaps. A maid is putting up your breakfast by the window while another one is laying out your dress on the bed.

If you’d had your breakfast already, the sight of all the virgin white folds of fabric would definitely make you throw up. As it is, your stomach can only cramp up and you can’t stop staring at the dress, this entire situation somehow wholly incomprehensible to you.

You wish they had let Tatiana stay.

There’s excited chattering around you as they towel you down and when someone starts dressing you, you don’t even feel their touch. It’s like you’ve been degraded to a mere spectator in your own body and someone else is steering it. When your undergarments are on, you’re sat down in front of the food but your hand feels too heavy to lift. You stare at the food and you can’t seem to find one single reason why you should put it in your mouth. It’s not like you’re going to taste any of it anyway…

The maids are tugging on your hair, twirling it around hot irons and twisting it into perfect little curls. Out of the corner of your eye you can see yourself for a short moment. You look pretty. Your hair looks pretty. Your undergarments are pretty. There’s a fine pattern sown into the fabric, you realize. It’s hundreds and hundreds of ‘V’s. You can’t feel your hands anymore.

“Hurry up, the ceremony is starting in a few hours!”

“She hasn’t even eaten, yet.”

“Well, we weren’t ordered to start earlier. It’ll be fine.”

“The Graces have already had breakfast, Katie said so.”

“Well, the ceremony will simply have to wait for the bride. They can hardly start without her.”

“The church looked beautiful, have you seen the flowers?”

No. There is a magic word that will stop all this and you know it. You can always say ‘no’. Right? That’s probably the cruellest part in all of this. That there’s that tantalizing sliver of a chance of escaping the situation you’re stuck in. You could always just say ‘no’.

In reality, though, you cannot. The option of saying ‘no’ to things, anything really, is not one you’re given. It’s a curtesy, allowed only because nobody can physically move your mouth for you. You have to do it yourself. Which makes you into a part of the conspirators working against you. Always against you. They bred the ability of saying ‘no’ out of you, lock, stock and barrel. And they did it well. You don’t think you can remember the last time you said ‘no’ to anything. Everything is a ‘yes’ with you, which makes asking you kind of obsolete in the end. Even if Grayson – or anyone, really – had asked you to marry him, you would’ve said yes. How could you possibly say ‘no’?

The thought of standing in the church, hundreds of important people filling row after row, staring at you, and you…in front of Grayson on the steps, the pastor next to you, and everyone holding their breath to listen to your ‘yes’. You could never say ‘no’, not in that moment. You couldn’t even say ‘no’ when it was just you, the Duchess, and the twins in the room.

“Too nervous to eat, hm?”, one of the maids says with a look to your plate. She smiles and shakes her head, like you’re just being quirky. “I get it. I was nervous at my wedding, too. Men that have that effect on you are truly special.”

You don’t know how to respond to that and so you just let her lead you to stand in front of the mirror, where two other start putting your wedding dress on.

“Your mother excuses herself, but one of your sister is not feeling well”, a maid babbles while pushing glittering pins into your hair. “She sent up a package for you, though.”

“As did Miss Cameron”, the other maid says and points to the vanity. There’s a black box and a soft blue wrapper containing some sort of fabric. You nod mechanically to signal you’ve registered the maids’ words but your feet are rooted to the floor. You can’t move.

It takes two maids to pull the dress closed and it should hurt but it doesn’t. You’re too numb to feel anything by this point. Keep your head high. Back straight. Don’t let your mask slip. Don’t scream. Keep it together. If you don’t let anything in, nothing can touch you.

When you see yourself in the mirror, your literally can’t breathe. It’s pulled tight around your waist, which looks tiny. The skirts are flowing around you, so much more fabric than you remember from the fitting. Little clear stones are sown into the front into a flowing, almost flame-like pattern, glittering with every move you make. In true northern style it covers your breast and only barely clings to your shoulders with flimsy, see-through sleeves. Even though there is no closed collar, you feel like the dress is choking you, swallowing you whole, forming a bubble around you nobody can pierce – no matter how hard you scream nobody would be able to hear you anyway through all the layers of soft, perfectly white fabric.

You have never felt smaller in your life.

“M’lady?”

You take the package offered to you. There’s a card attached to it. ‘Officially: welcome to the family. We’re so glad to have you! PS: I’m gonna need that back, this is my grandma’s and I’m only allowed to borrow it’.

If you’d had any breath left in your lungs, you would’ve laughed out loud. It’s a veil. To cover up your face and hide you from the world. The girl from the disgraced family. The girl from the province that lies in pieced. The girl Grayson Dolan was forced to marry. The girl without a face.

Cameron probably thought you were too naïve to pick up on the not-so-subtle gibe, probably thought you’d think of it as a kind gift. But you can feel the words, the symbolism, dig deep into your heart while the maids gasp about the veil and discuss how to place it on your head.

The black box is from your mother. There’s a card also. ‘My dear daughter, on this important day of your life you need to know how much we all love you. We are sad to see you go, but you’re a woman now, a wife. You’re going your own way now, and we cannot follow you. However, this does not mean you will have to go all alone. We will always be with you, in your heart. To commemorate that and for you to be able to carry a part of us as a family with you, we gift you this. We coordinated with Miss Cameron and since she gave you your “something borrowed” we present to you your “something blue”. We will always love you and we wish you all the best in your new life as a Dolan!”

The box reveals a collar and earrings, crafted out of beautiful blue gemstones, and formed like drops of water cascading down your décolleté. It’s breath-taking.

One of the maids takes the collar from your hands and lays it around your neck, where it lies cool and surprisingly heavy; a cold weight pulling on your neck, like a very expensive noose. It’s quite ironic actually, you realize as you look up at yourself at the mirror. The collar looks like crystallized water dripping down from around your neck while the glittering on your dress swirls and dances around you like flames licking around your form.

…your own way…new life…we cannot follow you…a Dolan…you’re a wife now…

When the maid who’s putting on your earrings pats your shoulder, you’re surprised to feel the hot streaks of wet on your cheeks. The mirror reflects your eyes shining with tears and the shimmering traces of where they spilled over your cheeks. You can’t feel anything. Are your eyes burning? You’re not sure. They should be. The salt should be pricking in your eyes. Why can’t you feel anything?

“You are very beautiful”, the maid tells you and squeezes your shoulders. She gives you a warm smile from her position behind you, where she just fastened your earrings. “I’m sure many will cry when they lay their eyes on you.”

The laugh that breaks out of you is more of a weak croaking sound. Yeah. You’re beautiful. That’s the main thing, right? At least you’re beautiful…

It takes the maids almost fifteen minutes to get to a consensus about the veil. And you can’t stop crying. You didn’t even know you had this many tears in you, but here you are, your eyes spilling more and more. The salt will crust the gems of your collar, you should probably stop.

But you don’t know how. No matter how many times you wipe your cheeks dry with the handkerchief someone handed you, there’s still more tears coming until your cheeks are red and puffy from all the wiping but still glistening wet. You’re still staring at yourself in the mirror, trying to comprehend this…any of this. The maids’ chattering has died down to a low murmur over the last few minutes and you can hear the concern in their voices as they keep glancing at you.

You want to tell them you’re fine. Honestly. You don’t know what’s wrong with you, either. But you’re almost positive all that would come out, if you tried to open your mouth, would be a broken scream. So you pretend not to notice them looking and keep wiping away the tears streaming down your face.

One of the maids has left the room, to do God knows what, and a look at the clock tells you, you have another twenty minutes left until the ceremony. You’re supposed to be sitting in the carriage by now, on the way to the church. Where Grayson is waiting.

Grayson. Lovely, happy, sweet Grayson. Grayson, who turned bitter and angry because of you.

“Well, we won’t need any rouge at least, no?”, one of the maids says, the one who thought you were crying because of your own beauty at first. It’s a poor attempt at lightening the mood, but it makes you smile nonetheless. She’s right. Your cheeks are red and irritated, almost like you’re blushing. Well, you never had a problem with blushing around Grayson anyhow.

The door flies open and you jump at the sound of it hitting the wall hard.

“What- oh. Oh no.” It’s Cameron and for all her pretending to like you, she seems genuinely distressed at the sight of you. “Shit, what happened?”

You’re unable to reply but you still manage to evade her hand when she tries to touch you. You can’t bear the thought of contact with her, not after you heard her egging on her brother to leave you and your family in the dirt.

The thought makes you smile a bitter smile. You’re so hypocritical, aren’t you? Here you are panicking because you realized your life is literally over now – you marry this guy and you served your purpose. Done. That’s it. A pawn in the Duchess’ and your parents’ game, and you couldn’t tell who won here, but you know it’s not you. On the other hand you’re mad at Cameron for trying to stop this exact thing from happening in the first place.

You don’t even know what you want, anymore.

And that’s not true, your heart knows exactly what you want. Get away from all this. Find someone who understands. Someone who actually likes me. Someone I can trust.

But that’s not realistic, not in your world it isn’t.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”, Cameron insists, her voice soft and concerned now. She doesn’t approach you and has her hands up, like she’s trying to soothe a spooked animal. “You look like hell. Are you … I thought you liked my brother?”

Your laugh is so hard and bitter, it makes you shiver. It’s true. You like Grayson. A lot, actually. More than you should after knowing him only for a few weeks. But just because you want him to like you with all the honesty and rawness and imperfection you grew to adore in him, that doesn’t mean he has to like you back. And he doesn’t. Why would he? You ruined his life.

“Am I wrong?”, Cameron asks slowly. “Do you…you really don’t want to do this, do you?”

“I…” Your voice breaks and your cheeks are still wet from the tears continuously spilling over them. You can feel where they’re running down your neck and into the beautiful blue collar, like little streams that get lost before they can go anywhere. “I ruined everything.”

You ruined your family’s plans to marry you to Ethan. You ruined your sisters’ chance at a carefree life. You ruined your province’ chances of getting aid from the Dolans. You ruined the Duchess’ relationship with her youngest son. You ruined Grayson’s life.

“I didn’t mean to…” Your voice is barely more than a whisper and you don’t know why you’re telling Cameron this, it’s not like she cares, but you hold onto her wide-eyed look like she’s the only anchor that you can focus on. “...didn’t mean for him to hate me…I never…I just wanted…”

Before you can figure out where you’re going with this, Cameron suddenly turns around and pulls the door open again. She points a finger at the maids. “You, go get ice, she’ll need to put it on her eyes. And you make sure to comfort her. At least give her a chair to sit down or something.”

The next second she’s gone, leaving you behind feeling more lost and empty than before. The remaining maid pulls up a chair and even though sitting down feels like the last thing that’ll help you now, you do it to make her feel a little better. The clock is incessantly ticking on the wall. It’s five minutes to eleven. You’re supposed to be at the church, getting your frocks in order and touching up the positioning of the veil. Not sit here, a pathetically sobbing mess in a dress that probably costs more than your sisters’ entire wardrobe.

You’re not entirely sure what you’re waiting for exactly, but you jump up from your chair when you hear voices approaching in the hallway.

“This is not proper, he’s not supposed to see her before the – “

“I don’t care. She’s scared and lost and fucking broken, alright? Where is your empathy – no, scratch that, where is your decency? She’s a human being and she doesn’t deserve to be treated like a…a…a thing!”

“Cameron – “

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“No, Cam, I mean…what am I supposed to do? I don’t think she even wants to talk to me right now, she sounded pretty upset the way you described her.”

“For fuck sake – “ “Cameron!” “ – grow some balls and just talk to her. If you guys had talked this out when you had the chance, all this drama would never have happened in the first place.”

“Cam, I don’t – “

“I don’t want to hear it. She’s crying, Grayson, and it’s your fault.”

“First of all, that’s unfair, and second…what am I supposed to do, you said yourself she’s crying –“

“You had infinite chances to step up. Now, get over yourself and fix this.”

“How – “

“Fix it.”

Although you heard his voice, you’re not prepared when Grayson stumbles into the room. His hair is dishevelled, no traces of stubble left on his jaw to be seen, and his eyes are wide as he stares at you just as overwhelmed as you. He’s wearing a double-breasted coat in a beautiful midnight blue, a pristine white scarf is tied around his neck, and the buttons on his coat are shining in the same silver-white that encases the gemstones around your neck. His eyes flicker over your dress of a brief second, wide and almost timidly, like he’s not supposed to look. Right, the whole ‘don’t see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding’ superstition. Well, you don’t think the marriage could’ve started with any more misfortune, so it doesn’t make a difference anyhow.

“Um, hello”, Grayson finally speaks up and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. He’s two strides away from you and you don’t know if you wish he was closer or farther away from you. “You look…” He gestures at you with a sort of helpless shrug. His sudden appearance stunned you enough to make the constant stream of tears stop, at least, so your vision isn’t too blurry anymore. “…beautiful.”

“Thank you”, you say and you’re almost surprised there’s no echo audible in your voice, so hollow do the words feel.

“You…um. Cameron said, uh, you were having…doubts? About the wedding?”, Grayson stammers and now he’s let go of his neck, but he starts fiddling with the tails of his coat nervously. If you weren’t feeling so utterly out of place, it would probably be cute.

“I…guess you could say that”, you mumble and it feels so wrong to say this – at all, but specifically to his face. You can’t even look directly at him as you say the words.

“Oh, um…” He sounds caught off guard, like he didn’t actually expect you to say that. “Well, then…I mean, if- if you don’t want to marry me, that’s fine. Of course. I don’t…I do not want to force you or anything, I hope you did not think of me like that.”

“I – I don’t know”, you whisper and look up, almost desperately, in search for answers. If anything his expression confuses you even more.

“Well, um, there’s kind of important people waiting for us in a church, so…you should probably decide quickly”, he mumbles and doesn’t seem to be able to decide whether or not to look at your face, his dark eyes flickering between you and the room. He looks different. Strange. You have never seen him like this, vulnerable, and you can’t tell if your heart speeds up because you’re scared or awed.

“It’s not just my decision”, you remind him quietly. “You don’t want to…marry me either.”

His head snaps up at that and there’s a crease between his eyebrows when he speaks: “What? Who said that?”

You. You did. You shrug and lower your eyes, unable to tell him what’s on your mind. There’s a shuffling noise and Grayson takes half a step towards you. His eyes seem even darker than usually as they lock onto yours intently.

“Why would you think that?”

You can’t help the incredulous snort. “Well, I took away your choice, didn’t I? That’s why you hate me.”

Grayson’s mouth opens and closes twice before he manages to get an actual word out. “I, um, no, that’s…well, I did say that, I guess, but…I didn’t mean it like that.”

You almost don’t dare ask, your heart fluttering in your chest as you try to keep your swirling thoughts in check. “How did you mean it?”

“I guess, I…” Grayson trails off and sighs deeply, his eyes never letting you go. “I wanted to choose, yeah? I wanted to be offered the choice, but that doesn’t mean…well, I would’ve chosen you if I’d gotten the chance, you know?”

He would’ve chosen me? Given an actual choice…he would’ve still chosen me?

“I had this whole plan, you see. I wanted to get to know the perfect girl and fall in love with her, but she would be smart, obviously, so she would never just fall for me like that, so I’d have to woo her. And then I’d ask her father for permission and I would’ve taken her somewhere that meant something to the both of us and I would’ve gotten down on one knee and I’d have asked her if she would have me…” Grayson takes another step towards you and you can see his chest move as he breathes quickly. “And I never got to do that and that sucks. I was angry, yeah, and I was an asshole taking it out on you. Especially since I’d been trying so hard not to be jealous when I got to know you as ‘Ethan’s fiancée’. But you…I wish we’d met differently. I could’ve blinded you with all my charm, instead of dropping all my idiot assholery on you from the beginning.” The smile playing on his lips turns sad slowly. “Maybe if I’d asked you, then you’d even have said yes.”

You’re pretty sure your entire innards have just melted into one big mush of sickly sweetness and you can’t breathe properly. “You never asked.”

Grayson stares at you, his eyes flickering over your face as though in search for something. “Uhm, well…” He clears his throat. “I don’t have a ring, either, but…would you, um…I know, I’ve been an asshole to you, when you’re the one who probably understood my situation better than anyone else. I never meant to hurt you and I truly, honestly hope you can forgive me. And, if it’s not too late…I guess what I’m asking is…even though I hurt you and made you cry, will you still have me?”

You can feel tears spring to your eyes again while he’s talking, and it doesn’t hurt this time either, but that’s because of the clouds of pure, unsuspected happiness surrounding you.  Shakily you reach out and gingerly touch his hands, which he immediately responds to by turning them around so your smaller ones rest safely in his palms. His thumbs rub slow circles into the back of your hands and you lean forward, he ducks down and meets you in the middle where he presses your foreheads together.

“Yes”, you whisper into the shared air between the two of you. He laughs breathlessly and rubs his nose alongside yours, his eyes staring directly into yours.

“Yes?”, he repeats incredulously. His smile is so wide, you can see something like dimples pressing into his cheeks, and his eyes are dancing with happiness.

“Yes”, you say again, happy tears blurring your vision and your mouth spreading into smile so wide it almost hurts. “Yes, Grayson, of course. Yes.”

 ++++

 The ceremony starts almost an hour late and people are murmuring and eyeing you but you can’t bring yourself to care. You can’t concentrate on what the priest is saying, Grayson is so bright, so vibrantly beautiful next to you as he keeps sneaking glances at you and winking mischievously when you catch him. The priest has to clear his throat twice during the procedure and when Grayson finally kisses you it’s the sweetest, softest and yet hottest thing that has ever happened to you. His lips are much softer than you imagined and he tastes sweet at first, until his hand cupping your jaw carefully slips into your nape and he buries his fingers in your hair, pulling you in. That’s when you realize how hot someone’s breath actually is when it’s breathed right into your mouth, how much hotter the tip of a tongue feels when it teases against your lips playfully.

You’re absolutely breathless when Grayson pulls away and you know your face has turned to its usual shade of red when you’re around him. People are clapping and smiling and your mother even cries a little bit.

When it’s time for your and Grayson’s dance, the Duchess’ touches his arm briefly when he walks past her. You can’t hear what she says but Grayson’s face softens and he nods at her with a small smile before he returns to lead you onto the dancefloor. Every step sits perfectly, just like you practiced and you’re almost sure you can hear Magnusson sigh dreamily and accomplished from across the room.

“What was that all about?”, you ask Grayson and nod to his mother. “All good?”

He shrugs but the proud smirk spreading over his face tells you, something is up. “Yeah, all good. Actually, it’s kind of about my wedding gift to you?”

“You didn’t have to”, you flush and shake your head. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“Well, I wanted to”, he shrugs and twirls you around perfectly. “It’s not really for you anyway, it’s just something I felt I should do. Someone should do.”

You stare at him blankly, waiting for him to explain. In the back of your mind something keeps nagging you – maybe this has something to do with what you overheard in the corridor last night? Grayson chuckles but it sounds almost nervous, like he’s not quite sure how you will react. You can feel the tension in his body where it moves against you stiffer than before.

“I…Well, I just thought…You said Lausanne needs aid, yes? Especially fresh water was a problem from what I remember. So, I just- I guess, I just thought how much fresh water we got here in Frysk, from lakes and rivers, but also from the snow, and…and I ordered Ethan’s and my battalion to distribute as much fresh water in Lausanne as possible. They’re preparing to leave right now.”

Again you feel choked up but it’s not the weight of the gemstones pressing the air from out of your lungs. “But…the Duchess…”

“She’s not a monster”, Grayson shrugs with a small smile. “She can be stubborn and proud and protective but…she’s still my, Mum. She loves us, she loves this province, and she’s not made of stone.”

“So”, you swallow with difficulty, unable to look away from Grayson’s face. “So, she allowed it?”

Grayson nods once and his smile deepens a little, his eyes softening further as he looks right back at you, openly. “She said, it’d probably be a nice idea for us to take our honeymoon in the south. Strictly, to rekindle the diplomatic relationships between our provinces, of course.”

The dance isn’t completed yet, you still have almost a full minute to go, but you don’t wait. You get up on your tip-toes, grip onto his shoulders for balance, and press your lips to his in an attempt to somehow convey your love and gratitude because words could never describe what you’re feeling for him right now.

There are chuckles and murmurs again, and the scandalized gasp is probably Magnusson’s, but you don’t care. You found a man, who turns the end of your entire purpose into the beginning of something new, something beautiful. Something you can’t wait to finally experience.

THE END

This amazing Royal!Grayson edit is from @bellaeditss, go follow her on instagram!

Thank all of you who stayed with me until now, I hope y’all liked it <3 if you got time I’d love to hear your opinions on this, I’m thinking of doing more fics like this so I wanna see if people would even be interested ;)

My Masterlist

[theroadtoindigo-go]

Undesirable Truth, Part 4

It took me a little while to calm down. As I was drying my eyes, Sonic handed me his handkerchief.

“If you’re ready, we can get going?” He offered.

I accepted his offer and we started walking toward his home. It was a long but easy walk as the sun slowly started to rise over the horizon. Everything grew brighter and friendlier as the sun rose higher and higher. I found myself smiling again. By mid-morning we arrived at a little hut by the beach. The yellow and blue paint on the walls was faded and cracking but the place looked very cozy. Before we could reach the house, a yellow fox ran out and rushed toward us.

“Sonic!” He called, “I knew you'd be back soon!”

He tackled Sonic with a hug and it seemed as though he wouldn’t be letting go any time soon.

“Where were you?” The boy asked.

“Heh, well, I ran into a little trouble with Eggman. But Cat saved me!” Sonic motioned to me and sent me a quick wink.

I would have hardly called our escape anything like me saving him, in my eyes it was the other way around. But the fox kit seemed very interested. I bashfully averted my eyes. And tried to reply.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly…”

“Oh yeah!” Sonic interrupted, “And she even carried me all the way here!”

“What!? No!”

The boy laughed, “How did you lose enough weight for that to happen?”

“Hey! Just because you can’t handle lifting me of the ground doesn’t mean everyone else has the same problem!”

“Sure.” The young one rolled his eyes with a smirk.

Who was this sassy child? And when could I adopt him?

“My name is Tails, by the way.” He said.

Finally, I had his name!

“Tails,” I said, “you and me, we’re best friends now.”

Tails shrugged, “Alright.”

Sonic laughed, “That was easy.”

After they led me inside, I took a seat in their tiny kitchen while Sonic filled Tails in on the time they had spent apart. That included me guarding Sonic as a prisoner and our ‘grand’ escape from Eggman and Metal Sonic. Thankfully he kept out the part about my past. Tails nodded as he listened, his little face shown his focus on retaining all details. As Tails was filling Sonic in on what he had missed, my eyes drifted around admiring their house. The bright yellow tiles on the kitchen counter, the light wooden cabinets, the pale gray linoleum flooring, and the pastel blue walls throughout the house. Beyond the kitchen was a little living room with a heavily worn out couch with an overabundance of pillows, a just as worn hammock and a small tv set from the 90’s. I did notice a few other smaller contraptions and tools around the place but I assumed they were just common place items that I had no memory of. It all looked so cozy.

Sunlight was pouring into the kitchen from the window behind me, bathing the whole room in warm light and heating my back in the process. It all felt so safe and relaxing that I nearly fell asleep with my face on the table top. Tails seemed to notice my drowsiness.

“Oh, hey! Are you tired?” He asked.

Sonic stretched his back and chuckled at my posture.

“I’m pretty beat too. It’s time for a nap.”

I hadn’t really slept in a bed in years, all I had was a temporary cot back at Eggman’s base. Imagine my surprise when Sonic insisted that he give me his bed to rest. I wanted to refuse but he just went along with his suggestion anyway and started sleeping in the hammock in the living room. Try as I might to persuade him, he just turned over and pretended to already be asleep. I looked to Tails for guidance.

“Just take the bed.” He said with a shrug.

I hadn’t even seen a bed in so long. Had I been well rested, I probably would’ve taken much more opposition to accepting this much hospitality and to the amount of little blue spines and hairs all over the blankets that were left unmade. No wonder he offered, he probably didn’t want to sleep in this either. Against my better judgement, I pretended not to notice any of it as I uncomfortably settled in. As I did so, my eyes closed all on their own. One of the last things I noticed before my mind started drifting was how much the sheets smelled like him and that maybe the bed wasn’t as cushy as I had expected. However, this didn’t stop me from falling asleep within the next two seconds.

By the time I had woken up it was late in the afternoon. My eyelids felt heavy and my mind groggy as I forced myself to sit up and out of my resting place. From the living room, I could hear Sonic and Tails in the middle of a conversation:

“Maybe it’s not so good an idea that she meets Amy…” Sonic said.

“Why not?” Tails asked.

“Well- I mean- you know how she gets…”

I decided to step in and ask what all the fuss was about.

“How does she get?” I asked.

“Amy’s craaaazy about him.” Tails cleared up.

“It’s not like that! It’s just- “

“Oh! You have a girlfriend~?” I teased.

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Yeah, that means she’s definitely your girlfriend! Don’t worry, I’ll keep my distance from now on!”

“Now hold on just a sec!”

“Friendship with Sonic has ended, now Tails is my new best friend! Right, Tails?”

“Mm-hm!” Tails replied.

Sonic face-palmed then glared at Tails between his fingers, “Traitor…”

               Much to Sonic’s hesitation, it was agreed that Amy should visit. The vote was two against one anyway. But before Tails could call her to invite her over, Sonic caught sight of one of his shed spines in my fur and plucked it out to inspect it.

“If Amy sees one of these on you, she’ll whack me into next week. We probably both reek of eggbase anyway. So, before we call her over, we gotta clean up.”

“Oh, thank chaos!” Tails snarked and held his nose, “I was trying my hardest not to say anything.”

Sonic squinted his eyes at the young fox, “Hey! You gotta clean up too! I don’t remember saying anything about leaving your inventions all over the house when I was gone.”

Tails groaned and went to pick up all the little contraptions that I was now glad to know were not household items that I never knew about.

               Sonic went and showered first as I helped Tails clean up the house. He showed me what all his inventions did and I was quite impressed. He even tricked out a Roomba to clean the walls. When Sonic came back, he handed me a clean towel and a new bar of soap and said,

“Okay, it’s all yours! I’ll try to find you some clean clothes to borrow while you’re in there.”

“Um, how long?” I asked with borrowed towel and soap in hand.

“...’how long’ what?” Sonic asked.

“Am I allowed to use the water?”

“As… long as you want?”

“Really??”

“Um, yeah! Were you really not allowed to use the water back in that base?”

“I was only allowed five minutes…”

“Wow… let me guess, the water was cold too, huh?”

I nodded.

Sonic inhaled deeply and set his hands on my shoulders.

“Tell you what, take as long as you want. You can even use up all of the hot water. I owe you this one.”

I almost cried.

               In the shower, the water was so scalding it stung my skin underneath my fur but it was such a good burn. I didn’t even care if my skin was melting off because at least all my worries were melting off with it. I stood there letting the water hit my back for about 15 minutes before I remembered what I was actually in there for. As I washed up, I thought back on the old showers I used to take. In five minutes, I used to rush to lather soap and water all over before rinsing it off with what could only be described as ice water. But this, this was heaven. My thoughts kept drifting to my days back in the base, when Sonic was first introduced into my life. I saw him as a responsibility and a chance to make the doctor proud of me or at least appreciative of my efforts.

               At first, we knew each other as enemies and yet, he spoke to me as though we were peers. When he snarked, I snarked back. I actually looked forward to our conversations because that was the only time during the day that I could unload all of my sass. And the more I did that, the more he seemed to like my company as well. When it came time for me to interrogate him, we were already on a first name basis. That first interrogation, I was very nervous to speak to him in the same room, all our previous conversations were either through bars or intercom. When I entered the room, I remember having to rush right back out because Eggman, no matter how genius he thinks he is, forgot to put a shower in Sonic’s cell.

               Poor Sonic had been in that room for two weeks without anything for hygiene, and it took me an extra week of repeated complaining to finally get a response. The end result was a big metal wash basin and a bar of soap. Nothing else. I was appalled but we made due, I fashioned some old blueprints and a wire frame to work as a screen. I knew Eggman would be angry, and he was, but I stood my ground and stipulated that even though Sonic was prisoner, he was still entitled to privacy in regards to his basic hygienic needs. Now I look back on those days with a chuckle at how I would try to hurry him and how he’d tease me with loud humming and whistling. In the end, I worked hard to get him the basic necessities he needed and I treated him with respect. I suppose that’s what Sonic meant when he said he owed me this shower…

               Upon finishing my shower and drying off, I found some clean clothes hanging on the outside door knob of the bathroom door. Just as Sonic had promised. These new clothes were baggy on me which was a drastic change from my uniform, that was no surprise considering how much taller Sonic was than me. The clothes consisted of a plain white t-shirt and a pair of cargo pants. The fabric that the shirt was made of was much softer, lighter and easier to move in than my uniform. I hypothesized that this shirt went unworn for quite some time since there were stubborn wrinkles in it from being folded in a drawer. The cargo pants were a bit of a challenge to put on, they were too big to sit at my waist like I wanted and instead rested loosely on my hips. I made a mental note to ask Sonic for a belt to borrow if he had one. After putting on the new clothes, I took a look in the mirror and was surprised to see how plain looking I was. My eyes got used to seeing the bright blue and yellow furs of my friends but mine was such a muddy brown all over. There was nothing remarkable about me. If I wasn’t careful, my friends could easily lose me in a crowd of three people.

               When I stepped out in the living room to meet the bright smiles of my friends, all my insecurities melted away. At least a small brown nobody like me could find accepting friends like them. And so far, that’s all that mattered. There was also a new person in the room, a pink hedgehog who seemed very attached to Sonic. He introduced us.

“Cat, this is Amy. Amy this is Cat.”

Amy did not seem keen to meet me at first, no doubt here to scope out her potential rival in hopes of defending her territory. This was soon cleared up.

“Oh, she's so pretty~!” I remarked with a smirk at Sonic, “No wonder she's your girlfriend!”

“Please don't say the ‘G’ word!” Sonic groaned.

Amy's eyes seemed to light up after that.

“Finally, someone with sense!” she exclaimed and took me aside to get better acquainted.

               It didn’t take long for Amy to sweep me up in a shopping trip to help me find clothes that actually fit. Her generosity rivaled Sonic’s and it nearly beat his out as we went from shop to shop looking for items that suited my size. Not that Amy was on the sidelines that whole time, she found a few things for herself as well. I was amazed at all the small shops, the variety of people walking around, and all items available for purchase. When I was hidden away, I never thought there would be so much color and liveliness in the world. Everything was so bright and happy. When I looked at all the shop fronts and the clothes on display, I was met with a crippling sensory overload. I hoped Amy wouldn’t notice though my face must have tipped her off.

“Why don’t we take a break for a little bit?” Amy suggested.

“N-no! It’s okay! I can-! I mean…” I took a breath and returned her glance. Back in the eggbase, I had to fight for my tasks. If it was obvious that I couldn’t do it or if I struggled with it for too long, I’d get stuck with an easier but unpleasant job instead. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t there anymore.

“Thanks Amy, it’s just really hard to pick one thing.” I admitted.

She seemed to understand.

“How about I show you my favorite place? Then we’ll try to find your style and work from there?”

“My…style?” The thought of an individual look for myself was exciting but also daunting.

As we were heading to the shop, we caught the eyes of a couple passers-by. Thankfully Amy was quick to give them a glare to let them know we were off limits. Perhaps I wasn’t so plain-Jane after all.

               In the shop, there were a large amount of dresses on sale. I didn’t take much interest in them, I liked pants better. They were easier to work in. Of course, that brought up the question if I was going to work at all in this new life I was making for myself. I tried to push that out of my mind, now was not the time to think about that. I gravitated toward the pants rack in the back while Amy busied herself with the dresses. I picked up a pair of black pants that vaguely reminded me of the old ones I used to wear. The fabric was of much better quality and somehow it made me angry that even in this small shop they had much better materials than what I was given for all of my remembered life. Before I could dwell on that longer my eyes drifted toward a light blue button-down short sleeved shirt. I couldn’t get it in my hands soon enough!

               One thing led to another and I had a whole arm full of shirts just like it. Amy looked over and started to laugh.

“So that’s what you like! Here, let me help you pick out some things to match.”

By the end, I had a pair of navy-blue slacks, a belt to hold them up, black heels, that button-down shirt that I liked so much and a little vest to match my pants. I looked swanky and I liked it! Amy was apprehensive about my self-fashioned outfit but she did admit it was cute. On our way home I determined that I needed to repay Amy’s kindness any way I could as soon as I was able.

               The next day, Sonic invited me to look around town. Amy and Tails joined us and I was introduced to a lot of Sonic’s friends. There was Silver who was from the future and Blaze who was a princess from another dimension? I couldn’t tell if Sonic was joking or not when he told me that. But there was also, Vector and his friends Espio and Charmy, they ran a detective agency. Something that interested me a great deal, I thought that maybe I could work for them if they were hiring. There was also Rouge who ran a night club who actually did offer me a job, but considering the atmosphere of the whole night club scene I was more than hesitant to take her up on that offer. She mentioned someone named Shadow whom I was also supposed to meet but he was “away on a job”. I suppose he didn’t work for Rouge. I met Big the cat, who wasn’t much for talking but he seemed really nice.

By midafternoon I was exhausted from meeting so many people so we went back to Sonic’s place to rest but there was someone there waiting for us. It was Sonic’s friend Knuckles. Needless to say, this ‘friend’ Knuckles did not take a very keen liking to me. Somehow, he found out about where I had come from and was here to scare me off.

“How can you be sure she isn’t a double agent working for Eggman?” He questioned, eyeing me suspiciously.

Sonic, to my ire, was not taking this seriously.

“It’s cuz she’s so small! Nothing this tiny could be evil! Right, Tiny?” He said and used the top of my head as an armrest just to prove his point.

I was not amused.

“Tiny or not! I don’t trust her! Are you sure she didn’t just brainwash you into thinking she’s harmless?” The red one exclaimed. He leaned in so he could get a close look at my face. He was a very intimidating echidna. “Just admit who you are and I’ll let you walk away.”

By then I was furious, how dare this person question my friendship with Sonic as if I’m only here for my own gains! But what was I here for? And no matter how much I hated it, this guy had a point. Who was I? I was the interloper here. The one out of place in search for a new one, but how could I find my new place in the world if I wasn’t sure who I was? I needed some time to think.

“I’ll let you know who I am as soon as she shows up, bud.” I walked away toward the beach to clear my head. I suppose he was just asking all these questions to determine my worth but I just couldn’t handle it that day. The past events that led me here were still raw and I needed some more time to create the emotional space I needed in order to explore them for answers. Maybe in looking back I would find myself.

I sat on the beach and watched the waves roll up and fall backward over and over. I didn’t like the beach. It was too messy, but it was at least calming to watch at a distance. My mind mulled over the question of who I was over and over but the answer “a failed experiment” just didn’t satisfy. I knew there was more to me than my past and where I came from. But trying to find the image I had of myself was even more discouraging. All that came up was that plain little cat in the mirror. The one who’d be lost forever if you took your eyes off her just once. I knew what I liked and what I didn’t like, but that wasn’t enough to determine a personality. I looked up at the sky, there were seagulls flying overhead and playing with each other. What would it take for me to be that care free?

Sonic walked over and took a seat next to me in the sand. He was humming something. I didn’t pay much mind to him, I just watched the seagulls dive at the water and fly back up.

“Don’t let that knucklehead get you down. He’s just a stubborn poor judge of character. But he’ll come around.” He said.

“You sure? He seems pretty dead-set on hating me.”

“Just give him the stink-eye and he’ll leave you alone, he’s afraid of girls anyway. But if he keeps bothering you just leave him to me, I’ll set him straight.” He sent a keen grin my way.

The next breeze that swept at us left behind a couple drops of rain on our foreheads. There was a storm coming.

“Let’s go inside.” Sonic offered. “I can send Knuckles home and we can have a jam session without him.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Sonic led me back inside the house after telling Knuckles to leave and sat at a small piano set against the wall. He stretched out his fingers before playing a happy tune.

“I didn’t know you played.” I said.

“You never asked.” he said with a smile and continued to play before saying, “I know you’re worried and stuff, but so long as you’ve got a positive attitude, you’ll be okay.”

“I know… I just wish I remembered more that’s all. I don’t even know who I was. How do I even move on from that?”

Sonic shrugged, “You just do. One day at a time.”

               The next day, Sonic woke me extremely early and insisted that I join him on an adventure to one of Eggman’s abandoned bases. I turned over and tried to go back to sleep.

               “Come on! It’ll be fun! It might even cheer you up a little.” He coaxed.

I grunted in response.

“Come oooooooooon! Wake up!” He took my blanket away.

I sat up and tried to snatch it back with one eye open but he was too quick.

               “Ugh! Why are you going anyway?” I asked.

“We found some faint chaos energy readings from there and I wanna check it out!”

“We just escape two days ago! The last thing I want is to go back to a place like that.”

“It’s abandoned! It’ll be different, I promise!”

I curled up to try sleeping without my blanket.

Sonic sighed, “What if I invited Amy to come?”

I sat up immediately, “Let’s go!”

               We set off on our adventure in no time, Amy was meeting us there and I was excited for my first adventure. That is until I saw a certain red echidna waiting with Amy. I halted.

               “Why is he here?” I asked in a hushed tone.

“He’s tagging along.” Sonic replied casually.

“And why is that?”

“I thought an adventure would smooth things over between you two.”

“You invited him??”

“Don’t be so hard-headed, it’ll be fine! An adventure will be all he needs to see you’re a friend just- “

               “Why is she coming?” Knuckles bellowed and pointed to me.

Sonic was about to make some sort of peaceable answer but I was faster with my reply.

“That’s none of your business!”

Knuckles was caught off guard and stammered, “I-! What-! You-! You shouldn’t be here! You’ll just lead us into a trap!”

“Oh yeah? Well maybe I will! Just for you! Just cuz you said so!”

“Oh! I’ll show you a trap!” He lifted his fist but I didn’t flinch.

“Bring it, tough guy!”

“That’s enough! Both of you!” Amy scolded, “I don’t want to hear anymore or I’ll send you home!”

“She started it…” Knuckles muttered and turned away to pout.

I huffed and turned away as well.

               The abandoned base was in an underground cave. As we started to travel inside and into the dark, I could hear Amy sarcastically whisper to Sonic.

“Great idea bringing them both along…”

Sonic tisked, “Shame on me for trying to have them get along, I guess.”

When we reached the entrance, which was shut, Sonic turned to me and asked.

“Any way to get in?”

I inspected the door. It looked familiar but the power seemed to be off. Many of the doors in Eggman’s bases were never locked with deadbolts or bars but were actually forced shut with hydraulics. If the power was ever off then the pressure to keep the doors tightly closed went away.

“Just force it open.” I shrugged.

“Tsh, that’s it?” Knuckles remarked, “You guys should’ve just asked me. I got this!”

He held onto the door from the bottom and started lifting, the task proved harder than he had anticipated. He glared back at me.

“Force it open, huh?”

“Well yeah, genius! Except it opens from the side not the bottom!”

He grunted and started pulling the door open from the side as Sonic snickered away. The task of opening the door wasn’t as easy as the concept, but Knuckles made quick work of creating an opening. We all filed in one by one with Sonic at the front, Amy following behind him and Knuckles in the back.

               The air inside the facility was heavy and dusty, there were numerous large vats of clear boiling liquid but there wasn’t any heat in the room. It was actually rather chilly. Knuckles warned us to stay together to avoid easily getting lost, I ignored his warning and immediately climbed one of the two metal stair cases that lead up to an observation deck. With the emergency lights on, I could see that the water tanks below me were left uncovered at the top and were indeed filled with water. But even though it was all boiling, there wasn’t any steam rising. I had seen this liquid before.

               “Hey! Where do you think you’re going??” Knuckles exclaimed and started charging over.

I straightened my back and fixed a glare on him, I was ready for another argument.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said we need to stick together!”

“Aw, were you worried about me?” I teased and batted my eyelashes.

“You-!” He stopped himself and turned away with a grunt, his cheeks were all red. Sonic was right, Knuckles wasn’t very comfortable around girls.

“Are you shy?”

“I’m not shy!”

               “You love birds done?” Sonic commented, “I thought we were here to find a chaos emerald.”

Both Knuckles and I cut our eyes toward him with grimaces, but we canned the dispute for now and followed his lead deeper into the labs.

               A lot of the hallways where just tunnels hewn from the earth and traveling through them sent chills down my spine. Whatever we were going to find at the end of this tunnel was not going to be a pleasant sight. Sonic and Amy where getting further ahead of me, I was being too cautious and it was slowing me down. Suddenly Knuckles grabbed my arm and yanked me back. Before I could shout at him a rock from the ceiling fell right where I was about to step! Then more rocks started falling, more, and more. We had to back up until it finally stopped. I was starting to panic.

“Cat! Knuckles! You guys okay?” Sonic called from the other side of the collapse.

“We’re fine!” Knuckles replied.

“Good! Amy and I will find another way around. Meet us back at the entrance after you finish searching.”

I swallowed hard. I was going to be alone with Knuckles for who knows how long. I could tell he didn’t like the idea either, but no matter how strong he was it was a bad idea to just dig our way through the rubble.

               With a tired sigh, he let go of my arm and started walking back to the main part of the lab. I followed behind quietly until he turned around and asked,

“Just why did you come along anyway, Tiny?”

“I’m not tiny! I just wanted an adventure for once…”

He snickered, “If you aren’t Tiny, then I must be a whale!”

“Hey, you said it. Not me.”  

“I-! …wait a minute! You calling me a whale?”

I started to laugh and ran past him to round the corner, “You said it, not me!”

“Get back here!” He shouted as he chased me down.

I nearly lost him until that corner ended in a broken walkway over one of the water tanks. I couldn’t stop in time and as a result I lost my balance and fell over the walkway and toward the water below. Knuckles was there just in time to catch my leg before I reached it.

               “I gotcha!” He grunted then pulled me back up with almost no effort. “Not bad for a whale, huh?”

When he set me down, I took a sizeable step away from the edge.

“See what I mean about running off? We need to stick together from now on, got it?” He said.

I sheepishly nodded.

“Good,” He breathed a sigh of relief and took a look around, “You know these bases better than I do, right? Where would all the important stuff be?”

I thought for a little while then said, “Well, I guess it would be in the control room. If Eggman ever visited his bases, that’s where he’d spend most of his time.”

Knuckles eyed me skeptically then said, “Lead the way.”

               My steps to the control room were very uneasy due to my little brush with death, I still didn’t know what that liquid really was, or why it was so familiar but I couldn’t shake the feeling it was very important to know. We reached the door and Knuckles punched his fist right through it. When he saw how wide my eyes went, he chuckled and said,

“Don’t worry, I’d never use my full strength on you, Tiny.”

I didn’t appreciate the nickname for me but at least there was some endearment in it. Once he forced the hole open a little more, he let me slip inside first. This room was much darker that the others since there was only one emergency light running. There it was Eggman’s desk, I knew it was nothing I should have been scared of but that voice in my head was telling me I shouldn’t be here. Knuckles climbed in right behind me and saw the desk.

               He walked right over and started opening drawers even after I tried to warn him not to. He didn’t find anything but there was a computer built into the desk. I gingerly walked over to the desk and switched on the power. Even with the rest of the facility running on auxiliary power, this computer had a back-up battery.

“You think it’s a good idea to start switching things on?” Knuckles asked.

“With the lab shut down like this, it should be safe.”

“See if you can find any maps of this place.”

“He never kept maps of his bases…”

“Tsk, figures… Blue prints?”

“Only on his traveling server, and I think that’s disconnected.”

“Traveling…? never mind. What’s this base used for?”

I did some digging into the lab reports left on the computer’s desktop, they were in-progress reports about the water in the tanks.

“This is about what’s in those tanks out there…”

“So, it’s not just boiling water…” Knuckles leaned in closer to read the report with me.

The report was about transferring chaos energy into water through some process of dilution, essentially Eggman was filling water with pure chaos energy with the use of a chaos emerald. The result was the water in the containers below. The water wasn’t boiling from heat but from chaos energy itself. There was no chaos emerald here at all, the chaos energy readings were coming from the water. There were other files about him trying to discover uses for this water but Knuckles knew all he wanted to know.

               “Time to tear this place down!” Knuckles said with determination. “Do you think there’s an easy way to do it?”

“Well, that tunnel collapsed. So, it seems like caving this place in would be no problem. But we’d have to make sure we could get out of here before then. An explosion in the right spot would do it.”

“Okay, where?”

“I don’t know yet, but let me do some digging and I think I’ll be able to figure something out. In the meantime, we need to let Sonic and Amy know about our plan.”

“I can find them, you stay here and do what you need to do. I’ll come back when they’re ready.”

“Got it!”

Knuckles climbed out of the hole he made in the door but took a moment to glance at me.

“Don’t try anything funny!” He warned then went on his way.

I huffed and rolled my eyes and continued working away.

As I was searching through the computer’s documents, a dialogue box opened on the screen: “Starting video call…”

It was him!

I panicked and tried to cancel the call and even switch off the computer but all the built-in computers in the labs were designed to take orders from him. Not even the power buttons switched off the computers without his say so.

It didn't take long for the video call to start.

“Who's poking around in my lab!? Cat!?” He leaned in closer toward the screen as though to get a better look at me, “Oh, thank goodness you're alright! I was so worried when you disappeared! I thought the worst!”

I felt all the color drain from my face in a white heat. Did I misunderstand and make the wrong decision?

I shook my head.

“You were worried about me? But you sent Metal after us! He almost killed me!” I retorted.

“I sent Metal to save you!”

“Metal tried to kill me!”

“Metal was trying to protect you. He didn't hurt you, did he?”

I looked down at my arm where Metal Sonic had grabbed me. There wasn't even a bruise.

“I suppose hiding behind the walls was your idea? It was very clever, just what I’d expect from you. I'm not sure what Sonic has told you but I promise not to hurt him if you would just come home.”

Home? Is that what he called it?

“I… But that room, with the operating table...”

“What roo-”

“I was human once, wasn't I?”

“So you do know… I was afraid of this. But I suppose I've kept it a secret from you for too long. You were very sick when I took you in. I tried to cure you but the operation didn't exactly… work as planned. But I’ve finally figured out a way to change you back! Why don't you come home and we'll set this right?”

My head was spinning, was I just misunderstanding everything?

“No…!” I tried to convince myself, “no, I'm making a life here! I have friends and…”

“I know you think Sonic is your friend but he was only using you to escape. It's only a matter of time before he throws you away for someone else.”

Had I really run off with someone who used me? I never did read the file that I gave Sonic. What if there was nothing in there and he was faking his sympathy all along? The very thought of it started to bring tears to my eyes. I shared so much of myself and was it really all a waste? I wanted Sonic to be here to speak out, to prove Eggman wrong, but the fact that he wasn't here hit me harder than it should have. I was completely alone.

“There now, don’t cry. Just switch the power on in the lab and I'll come get you.”

My hand hovered over the mouse, maybe ‘home’ was where I belonged after all?

Then I remembered.

“My name…”

“Er, what?”

“What was my name before all this? Did you ever write it down?”

He paused. I continued.

“And if you cared so much, why didn't you ever ask me how I felt? what I thought? Or what I needed? Why didn't you treat me as an equal or at least as someone worth your time? Why was I always alone? Where was your worry then, huh?”

“...You’re not as stupid as I thought. Fine! I don't care! At least now I'm free from your constant blubbering! I may not be able to access everything in that lab but I can at least make leaving difficult for you!”

I heard the wiring of machines echo through the building.

“Good luck getting past that! Escape me once, shame on me. But I'd be an imbecile to let you slip through my fingers a second time!”

I looked back at the door, the clanking of metal feet hitting the ground was reverberating around the building. I returned my gaze to the computer screen, Eggman seemed very confident that this would stop me. I had had enough!

“Then count yourself the king of imbeciles!” I exclaimed. “I’m getting out of here alive and there’s nothing you can do about it!” I hopped over the desk toward the door.

Knuckles was there waiting for me leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a pensive look on his face.

“Got here just in time to hear your little speech…”

“Y-yeah…?” I gulped.

Knuckles smiled and offered me his hand, “Looks like I had the wrong idea about you. Ready?”

I took his hand with a smile and we hightailed it for the exit. I looked behind me to see reserve robots following behind us. If we didn’t do anything to blow up this base, then we would have come here for nothing. Then I remembered something.

               “Hold on!” I slid to a stop and charged back.

“Where are you going??” Knuckles exclaimed.

“Help me get one of these bots in a tank!” I replied.

Knuckles didn’t quite understand, but he followed my lead. I waited until one of the guards was standing on one of the observation decks over the tanks. It stood right next the broken section of walkway. With a smirk I charged into it and started pushing so it would fall into the tank. Knuckles caught on to the plan and joined in. As soon as it fell, we turned tail and run. With all the chaos energy in that water, any disturbance would cause a massive reaction.

               I was right, as soon as we heard the splash there was an eruption, that spilled over to the next tank and the next until they were all going off. Knuckles and I out ran all of them. We were just about to reach the door.

“OUT OF THE WAY!” Knuckles shouted.

Sonic and Amy side-stepped just in time for Knuckles to burst right through the doors and pave the way for the rest of us. With all the chaos happening inside, the building was starting to shake and with that shaking the walls that once held strong were starting to cave in. We all ran as fast as we could from the cave and into the open air. The base was gone.

               As we all took a break to recover and catch our breaths, Sonic paced a couple circles around us looking as cheerful as ever.

“Not bad for your first mission, huh?” He asked.

I stared back at my triumph and started to laugh. Knuckles glanced over at me and shook his head with a smile. I straightened up and punched Knuckles in the arm, it turned out he wasn’t so bad after all. And I looked forward to seeing him again soon.

On the way home, I talked Sonic’s ear off about everything that happened after we got separated. This was a day I would never forget. After having a warm relaxing shower and slipping into nice clean sheets now set up on the couch, I was ready for the most peaceful sleep I had ever had. The rain was gently pattering on the window as I drifted off to sleep.

.               .               .

On a rainy night, I was asleep until a bright light shined through my bedroom window. It shone long enough to wake me, as soon as I started to sit up a claw crashed through the window and reached for me. I was not quick enough to escape. I wasn’t even awake enough to scream. Glass was everywhere, the cold rain soaked me and chilled me to the core as I was slowly being lifted out of my room and up into the headlights of the gigantic robot that held me.

Eggman sat in the pilot seat, laughing maniacally. I tried to push the claws around me to let go, but there was nothing I could do. I had the strongest hope that with all this noise, all this crazy activity, someone would see this and report it. That I would be saved. I knew that Sonic would stop my captor and that I would be free soon. I was almost excited about the rescue that I was so sure would come. I held onto that hope that whole way to Eggman’s base, in the dark I shivered but kept a brave face. Even as I was lowered into the holding cell that would later hold Sonic.

“You’re going to be very useful to me.” He would say even as I said Sonic would stop him.

After a while on sitting in the dark and doing my best to stay warm, I started to doubt. I tried to remind myself I was being foolish for not staying strong. But when I saw the sun rise and realized just how much time I had waited to be rescued. My hopes shattered right then and there. I fought to free myself, I screamed and tried to run more fervently than I had before. All of it in vain. In the preparation room I was forced to exchange my pajamas for a uniform. Sick from crying, shaking from fear and broken from the realization that rescue was not on the way. I sat in that pale, cold room waiting for the event that would ruin my life. As the door slowly opened behind me, I had no more voice to scream and no more strength to fight as I was lifted and dragged away. I was strapped down to an operating table, needles pierced my skin, tubes were attached to my body. The most intense pain I had ever experienced washed over me. I lived in that blur of agony for a long time until I had completely forgotten everything.

I remembered waking up in the preparation room again, weak from the operation and my mind in a deep haze. I sat up and held my head in a pain that was a blunt stabbing ache. I was barely awake when Eggman stepped into the room, visibly disappointed but intrigued. As I looked up at the man I no longer recognized, he smiled and said, “You’ll still be useful yet.”

- - -

Thank you for reading!

Part 5 will be posted next week.

For parts 1-3 you can visit my fanfiction.net page: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13241826/1/Undesirable-Truth