#despite getting garbage sleep last night I should be in a great position to be productive

[captivemuses]

I only have five kids in my room all day I could cry. And thats even with my partner teacher next door calling out. Happy Monday to me lol

[alecmagnuslwb]

Twelve Rounds

Read on AO3

“You know on the scale of the Qresh heist, your best plan, and the Leith escape route, your worst fucking plan, this is somewhere way closer to Leith,” Magnus whisper yells in the small space between them.

They’re trapped in a closet, oh the fucking irony, with a couple dozen guards just on the outside, guards that the guy they’re supposed to be picking up and taking back to the Rack wasn’t supposed to have.

Alec just rolls his eyes wiggling a hand into the miniscule space between them to undo the latch on his thigh holster. The fact that Magnus is blaming this on him, when the plans only gone to hells because Magnus’ intel was bad. It’s not because of Alec’s plan, Alec’s plan was simple and efficient dammit.

“Easy in, easy out,” Magnus had said tossing the tablet across the table at Alec nearly knocking over the very expensive, treat himself glass of hawk Alec had ordered. “The guy’s not smart and has never so much as bought a weapon to protect himself, the trip alone to get him won’t be longer than twenty minutes. We pick him up, we bring him back, warrant done and we make an easy 500 joy.”

Alec had scrolled through the warrant, reading it with a doubting eye.

“This guy has had six warrants on him go untouched, you sure it’s that easy?” Alec had asked and Magnus had just waved it away the rings on his fingers glittering in the low light of the bar.

“I already sent out some feelers, the intel is good,” Magnus said with a smile. “He’s just not wanted for anything big so no one’s ever bothered going through with the pick-up, now the price has gotten a little higher and I think we should add a little padding to our current bank balance.”

Alec had sighed dropping the tablet down. “The ship still needs new nav panels, they’re about to fall off, babe.”

“Exactly and 500 joy will fix those right up and we’ll still have some leftover to get a room for the night, a fancy one at the Westerley Inn instead of above the bar, maybe for a few nights,” Magnus said leaning across the table getting incrementally closer and closer to Alec. “Think about it, Alexander. No sleeping in the cold ship, nice fresh warm sheets, no running out of hot water in five minutes.”

Alec had wanted to say no, fixing the nav panels before taking on another warrant, easy or not, should have been the priority. But after being Killjoy’s together for seven years, lovers for six and husbands for two he’d always found himself saying yes to every single request, idea and silly whim Magnus had ever had.

Alec let out a long-suffering breath, “Fine, let’s do it.”

Magnus had beamed leaning across the table to kiss him once before accepting the warrant and running off to the ship to get things ready. Alec had smiled, shaking his head in amusement at his husband.

Now he wishes he had a better resolve to just say no.

“I’m not the one who got bad intel,” Alec whisper yells back. “If your intel had been good my plan would have worked.”

Magnus scoffs attempting to cross his arms in annoyance but realizes at the last minute there isn’t enough room to do so. He settles for poking Alec in the side once instead.

“Really?” Alec whispers looking incredulously at Magnus. Magnus just shrugs huffing in annoyance.

“How was I supposed to know the intel was bad,” he argues. “It was from a trusted source.”

“Jace is not a trusted source, if you had told me it was Jace of all people I never would have even agreed to take the warrant in the first place,” Alec whisper shouts back. He feels ridiculous whisper fighting with his husband in a poorly lit linen closet. They should be playfully bantering to the annoyance of their catch with a completed warrant in their hands right now.

“He’s your brother,” Magnus hisses back.

“Exactly and I know just how stupid he is,” Alec replies attempting to wave his hands around as he speaks angrily the way he likes to. He gives up after a second realizing there’s just not enough space to do that. “He fights, he’s a great shot, but his intel is garbage because he never thinks ahead. Simon is who you get the intel from.”

Magnus sighs and Alec can tell from the look on his face he knows Alec’s right.

“I have half the mind to just slip out of here and call it all off n-” Alec starts, but Magnus lifts a hand slapping it over Alec’s mouth silencing him. Through the closet doors Alec hears the slow purposeful footsteps of at least six people maybe closer to eight walking outside.

Magnus drops his hand but not until the footsteps have disappeared.

“Good news I think they’ve given up searching for us in the house,” he whispers biting his glossy bottom lip in thought.

“Bad news there are two dozen of them and there’s two of us,” Alec replies. “Not to mention the guy we’re supposed to be taking with us.” He tacks on suddenly remembering the whole point of this at the last moment.

“We’ve faced worse odds and lived to drink about it,” Magnus says with a smile. Alec’s face doesn’t budge determined to hold onto his stony annoyance.

Magnus sighs tilting his head and slipping his arms around Alec’s waist. “I’m sorry my intel was bad and that your brother is stupid,” he says pouting in that frustratingly fake, but frustratingly sexy way that Alec never can quite resist. “And also that you’re plan sucked.”

Alec huffs out a breath unable to fight the smile creeping at the corner of his lips.

“You fully loaded?” Alec asks tapping at the side of Magnus’ thigh holster.

“For you?” he says shifting his hips up against Alec’s. “Always.”

“Magnus, be serious,” Alec says not able to resist shifting is own hips back in retaliation.

Magnus groans then his face goes fully solemn. “I’m always serious about you and my load.”

Alec only barely stops the laugh he lets out from being too loud. He is married to a ridiculous, brilliant, beautiful man.

“Twelve rounds a piece, that’s one shot per guard for both of us. And then the hopes that the idiot we need to catch doesn’t count them or doesn’t know how many are in a sidearm and buys it when we threaten to shoot him too,” Alec says pointedly shifting a bit to the side so their hips are no longer pressed together, trying to ignore the thoughts Magnus’ completely unsubtle innuendos put inside his head.

“Don’t miss,” Magnus says with a wicked smirk unholstering his weapon and bringing it up to the ready. Alec does the same with a matching smirk of his own.

“For you?” he says winking once before reaching his hand above Magnus to push open the closet door. “I never do.”

Magnus chuckles delighted and uncaring if the guards hear them as Alec shoves open the door. Magnus spins gracefully his electric blue ammunition flying down the hall instantly hitting through the wrist of the first reacting guard. Alec moves behind him the two of them working in perfect tandem like they always do bobbing and weaving as they should around and over one another disarming the guards one by one hitting them in just the right spots to take them down, but keep them alive.

They’re not here on a kill warrant and even if they were they’re not fans of taking out more than the target anyways. They’re only getting paid for them in the end.

Alec ducks behind a near wall Magnus covering him as he heads towards the door of the house already wide open the hot Westerley desert air blowing inside.

“Shit,” he says harshly just before catching sight of one of the last guards hovering outside of the door. Putrid yellow ammunition makes its way around the corner narrowly missing him. Alec ducks behind a shitty looking old couch that reminds him annoyingly of the chair he never saw his father get up from as a child.

Magnus comes sliding in next to him a grin on his face. “Got mine,” he says popping his head up once over the edge of the chair. Another round of ammo whizzes past him, actually grazing the stark neon pink patch of hair at the front of his head.

“Well he’s almost out of ammo, or he’s a terrible shot,” Magnus says ducking back down quickly.

“We’re also almost out of ammo, I’ve got one round for this one guy,” Alec says. He takes a deep collecting breath. He dips his head around the corner of the chair catching sight of the guard in the reflection from the window. The guard doesn’t take a shot despite Alec’s vulnerable position which tells him he’s definitely down to his last round as well.

He starts to make the move to take his final shot changing course at the last second.

“Switch me,” Alec says to Magnus holding out his gun. Magnus doesn’t question him taking the weapon and unholstering his own empty one and placing it in Alec’s hand.

“Shoot high and cover me,” he says not bothering with a countdown knowing Magnus will know exactly when to take his shot. He moves from his safe spot behind the chair immediately staying low.

The guard shifts just slightly from his perfectly shielded position taking his final shot at Alec just a shy too wide. Magnus takes that as his queue just as Alec’s about to reach the doorway shooting once high into the wall roughly right above the guard’s head startling him into a crouch.

When he stands to his full height Alec’s right in front of him waiting with a big smile.

“Hi,” he says with a large grin raising the base of his gun and smacking it into the center of the guy’s forehead hard just once knocking him fully unconscious.

Magnus sidles up behind him standing up on his toes just a bit to look over his shoulder at the unconscious man.

“Technically you missed,” Alec says turning to look at him over his shoulder. Magnus chuckles.

“You told me to, I was just being a good husband and listening,” he says holstering the empty weapon. “We should go find the warrant.”

Alec nods pointing over to a wooden barrel tilted up against the side of the house. Magnus gives him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me look’ before walking over to the barrel kicking it once dislodging the lid as it goes down.

And out comes tumbling the mark with a high-pitched screech.

“No tracks?” Magnus asks gesturing to the clear sand before them guessing that’s how Alec knew he was in the barrel.

Alec shakes his head. “This one,” Alec explains pointing to the unconscious guard at his feet. “Shot his eyes over to that barrel right before I knocked him out cold, so either he really loves pickles or..”

“You should have hired better security,” Magnus says lifting the man up from the ground cuffing his hands together behind his back.

“Raj Laghari you are being taken into custody for six active level three warrants against you ranging from petty theft to extortion, you’ll be taken to the Rack where you will await further charges, trial or imprisonment as seen fit,” Magnus rattles off pushing the guy along in front of him.

Raj starts crying and Alec just rolls his eyes. This guy is an idiot, that much intel was right. They walk quietly back to their ship locking Raj up in the cargo hold before prepping the wavering nav to take them back to the Rack.

“I can’t believe you were going to try and call it off you know how it goes,” Magnus says tossing himself into the chair at the head of the ship. “The warrant is all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alec says casually, Magnus knows he’s loyal to the code even when he’s frustrated. One of these days a quick and easy job is going to be just that.

Alec slips into Magnus’ lap uncaring that he’s taller and that this chair is far too small to fit both of them comfortably.

“Fuck the nav system, we’re staying a full week at the Inn,” he says tiredly pressing a light kiss to Magnus’ temple.

“Hells yes,” Magnus says in glee kicking the nav switch with his foot before pulling Alec in for a proper kiss.

[dragonleesupporter]

The Many Sides of Murder Part I

A/N: Eyy I’m not dead, I promise. I’ve just been smacked around by life a bit. Anyway, this a fanfiction based off of an rp between me and some good homies, shout out to good homies! I’ve been wanting to write this for a very long time.

WARNING: Not for the faint of heart! Also, no t-community stuff in here!

Patton was walking out of the office building after a long day at work. He was exhausted, but he’d have his beautiful rose bush to look forward to when he got home.

            “Rosebud…” He said to himself jokingly, shivering in the cold.

          One of the first to come to work, and one of the last to leave… Patton looked across the vast parking lot and saw his grey, rusty car sitting on the far end.

            Sigh.

            As he continued walking, he heard what sounded like scuffling behind the ginormous square garbage bins to his left. He had gotten used to the noises the critters made at night, working the closing shift. Raccoons, possums, skunks, hell- sometimes the homeless stopped by to check the garbage for valuable items.

          After several moments of listening to the sound, Patton started to pick up on small alterations, like heavy breathing and shushing of sort. Yep, a homeless or drunk. No doubt about it. Suddenly, a shape leaped out in front of him, running in the same direction as his car. Patton froze, his voice caught in his throat. There was no way he could break into-

          “Your efforts are futile.” He heard a monotone voice call out from behind the garbage bins. He then saw what he could only perceive as a living knife launch from the same place the other shape had come from. In mere moments, the man who had started running, was now motionless on the asphalt. The other shape looked down at the body before looking up at Patton.

          Patton’s instincts finally kicked in and he turned tail to run in the opposite direction. Even in the dim light of the widely-spaced street lamps, he could tell he had made direct eye contact with whoever just attacked that other person. The sooner he made himself invisible, the better!

            “The tree line!” He thought to himself. “There! If I can make it there, then maybe- “

 Too late. He felt a harsh shove from behind has he lost his balance mid-stride, falling onto his chest. He then felt a hand grasp his face, some kind of cloth covering his mouth. He took in a deep breath to scream for help, but as soon as he did, his consciousness faded into an almost peaceful oblivion.

 “That was close.” Logan silently scolded himself as he carried Patton on his shoulders back to the body of Orlando. “How could I have let a witness run so far away from the execution site? Utterly useless. I must increase my intake, it seems.”

 He lit the body ablaze and covered his tracks. Every grain of sand out of place was corrected. He was never there. The only thing now was to decide what to do with the witness he had captured. He adjusted his glasses, sighing. It would slow down his current plan, but in order to make it more secure, he would just have to be patient and take the witness into his care. Perhaps he could reason with him, or at least keep him in a place that he wouldn’t cause any trouble.

 …

 Patton woke up in a very awkward position. Both his hands and his ankles were restrained, and he immediately noticed that the hearing on the right side of his head had gone blank.

“N-no… this can’t be real.” He started to feel tears well up in his eyes. “This is just a bad dream… I’m at home safe w-with my rosebush… please, please let it be a dream.”

 “Ah, you’re finally awake.” A chillingly monotone voice sounded from the other side of the room.

 “Wh-what do you want from me?!” Patton blurted out, making an attempt to sound brave and failing somewhat.

 “I don’t want anything from you, good sir… in fact, it’s rather a shame that you had to bear witness to my execution. I do not enjoy this situation any more than you do.” Logan stayed sitting on the opposite side of the room.

 As Patton’s eyes adjusted, he saw a lean, tall figure sat against the few steps that lined the entrance to a hallway just behind him leading into the room. He had milky white skin and clear blue veins running along his arms and legs. Despite the hostility he had seen at his hand, Logan’s face was strangely calm, his eyes grey behind his glasses. The rest of his attire was simply a black suit and pants, fitting his body as tight was possible. No part of his clothing was loose on him. Just as jet black as his attire, his hair was neatly combed back.

 “That being said, I hope we can come to an agreement that benefits both parties.” His grey eyes pierced into Patton’s, reflecting all the apathy the rest of Patton’s left drew to him.

 No one really cared about him… he had no friends… no family other than his brother who hardly visited… no one was coming to save him… he was going to die here.

Logan’s posture stiffened at the sound coming out of Patton.

 “Like heck! I’m not trusting a word you say!” Patton screamed, tears streaming down his face.

 Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I knew this would be an issue… I probably should explain myself…”  

 “No! I am not listening to ANYTHING you have to stay!” Patton’s heart burned with the knowledge that this man could do whatever he wanted to him. He started pulling on his restraints.

 “You know that’s not going to work… I wish I could’ve avoided the restraints, but how else am I supposed to keep her here safely?” Logan got up, slowly walking toward the struggling man before him.

 It was almost hard for Logan to look into his prisoner’s eyes. They were so bright and full of passion and emotion, even behind his contact lenses. His bright blue eyes kindly reflected off of his matching blue t-shirt, also blending well with his worn-out jeans. His bright blonde hair nearly blinded the criminal as he approached, wavy and tangled.

 “Why not just let me go then?! S-stay away from me! Don’t get any closer!” Patton struggled harder as Logan got closer.

 “Calm your nerves, you wiggling worm… I need to ask you a question.” Logan sat down next to the bed Patton was tied to.

“Well, I have nothing better to do. Ask away!” Patton called sarcastically. A small hope inside him told him that if he kept acting tough and hiding just how scared he was, he might be able to find a way out.

 “Is this correct?” Logan held up an ear aid.

 “What do you mean is it correct?” Patton scoffed.

 “Is it the right model? After cleaning up, I realized an ear aid had been knocked out of your head. However, when I found it, it had been broken. I did my best to judge what model it was so I could get another for you. Is this the correct model?” Logan’s monotone voice didn’t help Patton’s mood, however his question did puzzle him.

 “Th-that is the correct model, yes. Why?” Patton looked up at the figure who almost had to look away from his bright cyan blue eyes.

 “Good. I will momentarily untie one of your restraints so you can manually place the ear aid in. As well as take out your contacts. I’m aware they can be painful if you sleep in them.” Logan’s voice changed just a little bit in that moment, and that little bit was all it took.

 “O-okay…” Patton’s body went limp as Logan undid one of his restraints.

 “And no trying to escape, or I’ll knock you out again.” Logan watched him closely as Patton adjusted both his hearing aids and took out his contacts, relaxing significantly from the lack of pain. Afterwards, Logan tied him up again.

“So, are there any bathroom breaks here?” Patton asked sheepishly.

 “Yes. But I’ll only release you if we can gain a mutual sense trust… You see I only restrained you to keep you safe. This is the only place I could keep you from spreading knowledge of my existence. All of these hallways behind me are open to the front door, but they’re all rigged with traps that only I know how to navigate around. This was only set up for defensive measures, but I cannot turn them off now, so they also act a hinderance to your escape. If you were to try and escape, many of those traps would cause you extreme pain, and, in full honesty, I don’t want that.” Logan tapped his chin in thought.

 “Something’s not making sense here.” Patton finally spoke after a long silence. “How come you don’t want to hurt me when you hurt that other person?”

 “That low-life scum can barely be considered a person…” Logan’s voice grew heavy with anger. “Sh-shit!”

 Patton turned to look at his captor to find a surprising sight. Logan, was bent over with a hand firmly pressed to his head. “Damn, it’s wearing off faster!” The criminal rushed over to the opposite side of the room, taking out a syringe.

 Patton watched in horror as Logan plunged the needle into his skin and quickly injected himself, his tenses muscles going lax again. Patton saw, for a brief moment, color in Logan’s eyes before it changed back to the grey he had know for the past fifteen minutes.

 “I apologize for the interruption. But unbeknownst to you, there’s a great difference between you and the man I killed. I would go into detail, but I have an inkling it might disturb you, so until we are better acquainted, I see no reason to explain.” Logan’s posture loosened further. “I should probably start with my name. My name is Logan, and I’ve been on the hunt for a specific group of individuals. The one you saw me take out was one of those individuals.”

 Patton felt odd staring at this man… could even call him that? This THING?

 “Well, my name is Patton, and I’ve been on the hunt for a meaningful life.” He chuckled sadly.

 “What’s funny?” Logan cocked his head.

 “Oh, it was a joke! I like to tell them a lot…”

 “A… joke…” Logan appeared to be lost on what Patton was describing.

 “Yeah. You tell it to people you care about to make them laugh and smile…” Patton looked away from Logan’s eyes, afraid he would become equally apathetic if he continued to stare.

 “And what about searching for a meaningful life is funny?” Logan tapped his chin in thought with a perplexed expression, looking at the ceiling.

 “Oh wait… of course this guy’s not going to understand jokes! He’s a complete psychopath! I need to figure out how to get out of here! He said he would give me access to a bathroom once we gained mutual trust for each other. So, if I pretend to trust him, he might trust me and warrant me access to the bathroom. But the bathroom probably doesn’t have any escape routes. If there isn’t a window or a vent… I might be stuck… unless… he’s lying about the hallways! He must think I’m stupid… if there’s no chance of escape in the bathroom, I’ll abide by his rules until he gets sleepy or needs another one of those needles. Yes! Flawless plan!”

 “I realized that you’re smiling. Is something funny? Did I unknowingly… tell a… joke?” It took Logan a moment to think of the word again.

 “Oh no… I was just thinking about a joke one of my friends told me a couple days ago…” Patton lied.

 “Oh? A memory can make you smile… I forgot that…” Logan looked down at the floor. “Thank you for reminding me.”

 After a few more moments of awkward silence and Patton trying to avoid the gaze of the mad man, his stomach growled loudly.

 “Dammit stomach! This is not the time to be complaining!”

 “Ah, I assumed you would need sustenance before long… luckily I was able to grab some ramen from the store. I know from experience that it’s very filling, if not a little bland in taste. I’ll prepare some…” Logan turned his back to Patton getting a stove heated up.

 “Oh no! I can’t eat anything that monster gives me! It could be poisoned, or laced with something to make me be truthful with him! But if I don’t eat soon, I might start thinking illogically… m-maybe I already am! Dammit, Patton why did you skip your last break last night??”

“To put all doubts to rest, I will also eat from the same brewed pot of ramen… I apologize for the lack of nutrients in this specific dish. But hopefully, if everything goes according to plan, one meal is all you’ll need…” Logan turned around, giving full view of the pot of ramen, stirring it around.

 “Oh Jesus, he’s going to kill me! According to plan?? Only one meal?? That has to be it!”

 “A-and what plan would that be?” The captive muttered nervously, eyeing the noodles like he would a loaded gun.

 “Ah, my apologies. Allow me to explain after I’ve finished undoing your cuffs.” Patton violently flinched away from the criminal as he undid all of his bonds. “Come sit with me, Patton…”

 There was… a hitch in his voice for some reason. Patton couldn’t tell why, but Logan’s perfectly monotone dialogue had broken, just for a second, but he noticed…

 He sat down stiffly on the other side of the pot as Logan poured each half of the brew into their bowls. He took the first bite, fully knowing that Patton wouldn’t eat unless he was certain that the food was safe.

 “Maybe he built up an immunity a poison he put in the brew… ahhh but it smells so good! I can’t get distracted! Think, Patton! Think…”

 Logan continued to eat as Patton played with his food, his thoughts racing. After he had finished the whole bowl, he just sat and stared at Patton, waiting patiently for him to trust the noodles. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity to Patton, he finally took a bite. He had no way of telling time, but from his judgement, Logan would’ve shown some signs of discomfort if the noodles had been poisoned. It was just a risk he’d have to take, considering, just how badly he needed the food. But he also needed something else.

 “M-may I use the restroom?” He asked, looking away from Logan’s piercing eyes.

 “I suppose I have no reason not to trust you in this moment, and you trusted me enough to eat what I made for you. How about a compromise? My original offer was to free you of your cuffs without feeling the need to restrain you again… while also giving you free access to the bathroom… but since I can’t fully trust you in moments to come, even if I can trust you now, I’ll give you access to the restroom but restrain you afterwards, though I’ll make sure your restraints aren’t as tight this time…” Logan explained, eyeing the bruises on Patton’s hands.

 “O-okay… and where is the bathroom?” He was shaking a little.

 “Just to your left. It’s not the most luxurious, but is serves its purpose.” Logan hadn’t even finished his sentence, before the door to the restroom was slammed shut. “I suppose I should clean up this mess…”

 “Dammit! No windows or vents! This room is an oven!” Patton thought to himself while doing his business. “It certainly isn’t a good restroom, but it’s a clean one… and right now, I’m in no place to complain… these walls are pretty thick, he probably can’t hear what I’m doing… meaning, if I hurry, he might not be prepared for me to make an escape. The longer I wait, the more he’ll expect me to come out. Better make this quick!”

 Patton slowly opened the door and peeked out at Logan, who was occupied washing the dishes they had just eaten from. He had blue eyes again… why did he look so… sad? Patton felt the smallest pang of sympathy for his kidnapper, despite everything. He’d soon need another syringe that made his eyes turn grey again. Some kind of drug. His posture was looser and his normally expressionless face was bent in a look of grief.

 “I- is he shaking?” Patton squinted. He could see long-range distance just fine, but movement was a little hard, but he swore, he could see his captor, shaking in place uncontrollably. Enough, he had to get out of there, NOW.

 Patton dashed for the hallway entrance just next to the kitchen, side closest to him. Logan noticed the movement right away, and try as he might, he couldn’t move fast to block the blonde from what he knew was going to happen.

 “AHHHH!!!” Patton screamed bloody murder as an improvised bear trap snapped around his right leg, dragging him down to the ground. He laid there, whimpering on the ground.

 “You stupid son of a bitch!” Logan ran up to him, quickly carrying him back to the main room. “What made you think I was lying about my traps?? Damn you, I was trying to do something good for once and you had to go and make such a stupid move!” He laid Patton down as he cried openly, unable to take the pain.

 He quickly ripped off the bear trap and started to examine his leg.

 “D-don’t touch me! It hurts! It hurts…” Patton sobbed, unable to move as Logan pressed different parts of his leg.

“Okay, it didn’t break any bones, but your muscle and tissue are severely damaged… I didn’t design that thing to break through bone, but I never tested it before, so that’s a relief… Now all that’s there to do is bandage your poor leg…” Logan quickly wrapped up the wound, adding on several straps of ice to help ease the pain. He then laid Patton back in the bed. “You just made things ten times harder for both you AND me!”

            Patton looked up fearfully to see Logan’s bold, indigo eyes starting back at him, his booming voice scolding him. Yet, strangely enough, Patton felt an odd sense of relief. Logan’s colorful eyes and evidently angry voice gave the criminal emotion. The blonde would rather have his kidnapper yell at him, than stare at him coldly from across the room. Logan then cried out in pain, grabbing his head again.

            “DAMN! This is YOUR fault! Now I’m even having problems with my CURE!” He hurried back to his cabinet to take another syringe, wincing harshly as the drug made its way into his body, before taking a deep exhale, relaxing significantly, as his eyes started to turn back to the void-ish grey that Patton had come to hate.

 “I apologize for my outburst… there will need to be a change of plan due to your foolish refusal to heed my warning about my security system…” Aaaand there’s that awful monotone voice again.

 Just then a figure burst into the room from the hallway, several bruises and scratches on him.

 “EVERYONE FREEZE!” He held up his gun at both Logan and Patton, who put their hands up. It was a police officer!

 As Roman pointed the barrel toward the uninjured suspect, he nearly dropped it.

 “L-Logan…? What happened to you?”

To be continued...

 @imflynn  @boba-and-doughnuts @tottalynotgayatall

[rachelkaser]

Stay Golden Sunday Reissue: The Heart Attack

Note: This is a repost of an older Stay Golden Sunday that had to be redone for housekeeping reasons.

Sophia becomes very ill one night and is convinced she’s going to die. The Girls confront the idea of mortality.

Picture It…

The Girls bid farewell to their guests as a storm rages outside. They praise Sophia for the meal she cooked for everyone, and Blanche says it was even better than the food she ate in Italy. The Girls tell Sophia to take a load off in the living room. They start the dishes in the kitchen, while Rose talks about her family’s Scandinavian cooking.

Back in the living room, Sophia says she’s got a “bubble” of pressure in her chest. Rose thinks it might be gas, but Dorothy says her mother isn’t looking so good. Blanche goes to call the doctor. Sophia clutches her chest as the bubble turns to pain. Dorothy lays her down, while Sophia worries she could be having a heart attack. Blanche says the doctor was out, so she called the paramedics.

DOROTHY: Ma, you know, you don’t look good. SOPHIA: I’m short and I’m old. What did you expect, Princess Di?

The two discuss their family’s deaths – which include a fall from a donkey and misfiring a gun while taking out the garbage – to rule out the possibility of heart disease. Blanche and Rose talk about how death should come without pain or illness, getting sidetracked until Dorothy shuts them up. They go to make coffee, while Sophia begins to worry she’ll die. She starts giving Dorothy instructions on what to do after she’s dead, and says Dorothy was always her favorite, even if she never showed it.

In the kitchen, Rose and Blanche discuss death. Rose says her family members live to their 90s and 100s, which Blanche attributes to the Minnesota cold slowing down the aging process. They also discuss cremation vs burial: Rose wants to be buried with all her sentimental items, while Blanche wants to be buried in Arlington Cemetery because it’s full of men. Sophia tells Dorothy she loves her. When Rose and Blanche return with the coffee, she thanks them for keeping her company. She decides to rest while Blanche goes to call the paramedics again.

BLANCHE: Do you want to be buried or cremated? ROSE: Neither! BLANCHE: What do you want to be, flushed down the toilet like a goldfish?

Rose tells Dorothy it’s probably not a heart attack, as she’s seen one and they’re bigger. She recounts Charlie’s heart attack to Dorothy, which happened while they were making love (she told Arnie this back in Episode 3, but this is the first time she’s told one of the other Girls). She dressed him before emergency services arrived, and his last words were that he loved her. Blanche returns and says the paramedics are held up by the storm, and they’ll just have to wait… and pray, as Rose adds.

The Girls crowd Sophia, who wakes up and tells them she had a near-death experience and saw Heaven. She describes seeing her husband and asks Dorothy to get her rosary. Blanche’s main interest is if there are lots of men in Heaven (which… why wouldn’t there be?), and eventually goes to help Dorothy. Left alone with Sophia, Rose bugs the crap out of her by recounting farm stories.

BLANCHE: What about men? Are there lots of men in Heaven? ROSE: Oh Blanche, come on! BLANCHE: Well you asked her about God and Jesus!

In Sophia’s room, Dorothy’s going through Sophia’s things, looking for the rosary. She tells Blanche that she’s not ready for Sophia to die, and that she’ll still feel like an orphan at her age. She breaks down in tears at the thought, and Blanche comforts her by saying Blanche and Rose are her family too, and they’re there for her.

In comes Dr. Harris, presumably Elliott’s replacement as their house-call doctor. He inspects Sophia and finds her side is sensitive, so he asks her what she ate recently. The girls list a truly disgusting amount of food, including scungilli, fried mozzarella, and two boxes of Milk Duds. Dr. Harris says it’s not a heart attack, but more likely a gallbladder attack from overeating. Sophia is instantly relieved, but takes back what she said about Dorothy being her favorite now that she’s not dying.

Later that evening, the Girls minus Sophia (who’s presumably resting) talk about mortality in the kitchen. They question the reason they worry about things like dieting when they’re going to die eventually – a thinly veiled excuse to eat some chocolate cake and ice cream. They do eventually get turned off of the dessert when they realize that, while they are going to die eventually, they’ll feel the negative effects of overeating immediately, like Sophia did. They decide to go out for a walk (one hopes the storm is not still raging), and Blanche brings it back around to her favorite topic:

BLANCHE: Let’s go for a walk. ROSE: Right, burn it off! DOROTHY: Are you kidding? After what we ate, we’d have to walk to Canada. BLANCHE: Oh, Mounties! I love Canadian men!

“You couldn’t say ‘belch?’ What is it, a Viking curse?”

This is the first episode that centers around Sophia, and given the multiple references to her age and health in the preceding nine episodes, it’s fitting that it’s about a health scare. Estelle Getty, who has mostly played comic relief up to this point in the series, gets her shot at carrying the dramatic half of an episode – and she definitely delivers.

To be a little real with you, this episode has been hard for me to watch the last few years, ever since my mother died. She was the one who introduced me to Golden Girls, and episodes like this hurt both because I know now she and I will never have that Dorothy-and-Sophia rapport in old age like I always assumed – my mom was not even 60 when she died – and because I was basically in Dorothy’s position at the time. If I could have chosen a quote to describe the months of my life after my mother died, it’d probably be this one:

DOROTHY: It doesn’t matter. You lose a parent, you might as well be six. It’s scary. And it pushes you right up to the head of the line.

I appreciate that, when confronted with the possibility that she might die, Sophia’s not accepting or serene even though she’s very old. I think there’s a perception that, when you get old, you just have to accept that you might die soon and be okay with it because you’ve “lived a full life” or some such nonsense. Instead, Sophia outright says “I’m not ready” and that she’d take even one more day of life.

I leave it to other shows to try and teach people to accept death with grace. I prefer Golden Girls’s way, which is to say “Screw that,” and portray the octogenarian matriarch as not wanting to die. There’s something very real in Sophia saying she never really thought she would die.

SOPHIA: 80 years old, and it would come as a complete surprise.

There’s quite a bit of real-world backstory to this one, too. Originally, it was intended to be broadcast live, which is why it’s the first episode since the pilot to take place entirely within the confines of the Girls’ home. According to Golden Girls Forever (quite a treasure trove), NBC had done a live episode of Gimme a Break and attempted to replicate its success with a night of live shows, ostensibly to promote Saturday Night Live. Golden Girls would have been one of about five shows to air its episodes live.

At first all the other shows were onboard, but then showrunners protested the final offering of the night, a detective show called Hunter, couldn’t be filmed live. So the live plan was scrapped. Director Jim Drake remembered it as being for the best, since the actresses weren’t really equipped to do the show in a single live, continuous taping. While their shows were filmed in front of a live studio audience, they still had the option of doing multiple takes. Somewhat relevant, but here’s a video of Golden Girls bloopers:

The other real-world issue that influenced the filming of this episode was one that also cast a pall over the previous episode – the death of Bea Arthur’s and Betty White’s mothers. But while it seemed to throw off the chemistry of the previous episode to a certain extent, if anything it helps this one. There are differing accounts as to whether Rose’s monologue about Charlie’s death was drawn from the deaths of White’s mother or her husband, Allen Ludden. I suspect it’s a combination of both, but you can see she’s genuinely crying while talking about it.

My only real criticism of this episode is that the final scene doesn’t really seem like it’s attached the rest of the story. The Girls talk about their own mortality, and how the fact of dying makes things seem trivial. They don’t even mention Sophia, despite the rest of the episode revolving around her. It feels like a discussion they might have after a friend died – or, more accurately, a scene inserted by a writer who wanted to opine about death for five minutes.

That’s not even mentioning the fact that the way the Girls behave in this scene is very at odds with the rest of the episode. It’s just strange to me that they’d come to the conclusion that, since they’re going to die, they might as well gorge themselves on rich food, when doing so is the exact reason Sophia had a gallbladder attack – and they just heard a doctor tell her that.

Regardless, this is another great Susan Harris episode, and the first episode that puts Sophia front and center. While it’s a bit melancholy there are enough jokes interspersed throughout to keep it from being a downer.

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰🍰 (four cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

The Girls crowd around a sleeping Sophia (see the image at the top of the article), and she wakes with a shout, scaring them all. When Dorothy asks her what’s wrong, she says:

SOPHIA: What? You’re sitting on top of me. I open my eyes, I see pores like that, I think I’m on the moon!

[softjeon]

A place to belong

• Pairing: Jimin x Bobcat!Namjoon • Genre: Fluff and a bit of crack, cause Namjoon...you’ll see. | Hybrid!AU • Words: 12k | AO3 • Disclaimer: none

written with @cassiavioletblue​

↳  He wasn’t good with this. But he wanted to be. Because Jimin was lonely and he was lost and so maybe they could make it work so that both of them would get a little taste of happiness. 

He shivered at the cold bit at him on this grey morning. The wet snow was dragging down the branches of the pines, every step of his leaving a mark and giving away where he was going. The bathrobe was tied tightly around his waist as he hurried further towards the bushes, with a bag in one hand and a water jug in his other. Every morning, it was the same routine: Jimin filled the bowl up again with two or three cups of bird feed and filled the other with some water. He never left a morning out. It was just part of his getting ready in the morning. Just as much as the freezing was. The more he was excited for his hot shower after. 

Sometimes, when Jimin was lucky, there was even a little squirrel already awaiting him. Looking up at him patiently, waiting for him to spread the feed around a little more. He usually threw some of the bird feed under the bushes. For the shy ones, Jimin always told Yoongi who teased him about his unusual routine. Most animals though didn’t come out until he was gone, and he could only see them from the kitchen window sometimes. 

Jimin was about to scoop the first cup, when his eyes widened. The bowls were emptied. As if someone had licked them completely clean. Usually, there was always something left, a few scoops of corn or peanuts because Jimin was really generous and filling it up every day. But it was never been emptied before. Looking over his shoulder, Jimin narrowed his eyes as he tried to see if there maybe was a bigger animal around. Or maybe more birds and squirrels were seeking shelter? Or other animals? Deers? His heart ached at the thought and took a few more scoops this time, filling the bowl to the rim quickly.

“There you go,” Jimin whispered, before he hurried back into the warmth of his living room again. He needed to get ready for work. 

❄️...❄️

He would have never thought that he was happy about bird food, but he had been so excited to find it he had stuffed his face before realizing that not all the sunflower seeds had been peeled. Coughing up sunflower seed shells wasn’t a nice feeling - but he had different problems right now. He felt almost a little guilty for stealing the bird’s food but luckily there were a few houses around that had started to offer food for winter birds now that the temperature had dropped so significantly. He just normally couldn’t get there. He moaned in delight when he saw that whoever was feeding the birds at this place had actually sprinkled a few nuts in between. 

Walnuts, peanuts, something that would make him feel even more full. With cold hands he tried to grab as many nuts as he could making sure to leave some seeds behind to not make it too obvious that someone else had been busy eating the food - but his stomach growled and he felt lightheaded already so in the end he just gave in and took the whole plate again, stuffing everything into his pockets. Who knew when the owner would come home or a neighbor or whoever else had access to this garden. If he was lucky he could stay close and maybe take some food from here again. 

❄️…❄️

It was always the same routine. He put the key into the lock, turned it twice to lock the door and then turned on the light before plopping down onto the couch tiredly. Those long shifts really took a toll on him, especially in winter. Jimin turned to look outside, but he couldn’t see anything but his own reflection. It was already dark and there was more snow falling.

Jimin sighed deeply, when he finally could manage to get himself up from the couch and took the scarf from the drawer to wrap it around his neck to keep the cold out. At least for a little bit, while he would hurry down the little path to the shed where he stored the wood for the chimney. A nice warm fire was what he needed, he thought. Jimin was already halfway there, arms wrapped around his body, trying to ignore how cold it was when he noticed the plate by the feeding place being tossed over.

“Huh?” Jimin stopped dead in his tracks and cocked his head aside, carefully getting closer to where he had placed the food this morning. “Are you really that hungry?” Jimin asked to no one in particular and then laughed. “Oh well, then I might get you some more, right?” Carefully he turned around and rushed back to his home to get the bucket filled with the seeds. 

❄️…❄️

All those nuts and seeds had given him a stomachache after not having eaten for a little while, but he figured he would be fine if he just ate a little slower this time. He had found a place in a small barn nearby. Someone had locked the door with chains to make sure that no one could get in even though the chains whereby far the newest thing about the whole thing. The wood was dark and old and there must have been paint before even though you could only guess it from a few spots where it was peeling and coming off in flakes. Namjoon didn’t give up easy (or else he wouldn’t be still here) so he had rounded the barn, trying to find another way inside. In the end it had been incredibly easy. He only had to climb the next tree and then reach for the window. There was nothing to cover them properly and the windowpane wasn’t even fully made of glass just some shards and some kind of plastic behind it. Apparently someone had smashed the window and the barn owner had only halfheartedly fixed it. Namjoon could slip into it despite the darkness (he could be quiet but even he didn’t dare to climb trees in broad daylight.) Inside it was dry and the last bit of tension left his body when he saw the dust lingering everywhere. No one had been inside of here in a long time. He was safe - for a while.

❄️…❄️

Jimin was about to head out in the wintery cold again, when he saw the apples in his basket. Honestly, he didn’t know why he bought them anyways. It was just because they looked great in the bowl, but every morning he forgot to take one to work with him and then he didn’t eat them and usually threw them away when they got old. In a quick decision, he picked two of them and put them into the basket and slid the glass door open again. The cold immediately rushed in and let him shiver, but he was determined.

“I got you some apple, too.” Jimin was talking again, not really caring if someone would call him crazy. But maybe there was a family of hedgehogs or squirrels that needed more food than what he had brought before. “I’m not sure if you like them or not, but if you do you can have them. I don’t really eat them anyways and you must be very hungry.” He scooped up a few cups again, filling the plate and then put the apples down. 

❄️…❄️

Namjoon was thankful for his new place, it almost resembled a home. He had a roof over his head, and he could eat regularly - even if it was just bird food. He wondered why the person who was feeding the birds did just refill the plated. Surely he must have noticed by now that something was off. But instead of hiding the plates or keeping an eye on them he just put more food there. Nonetheless Namjoon was extra careful, just to be sure, so he closed his eyes again, letting time pass. As he was mostly out at night and sleeping throughout the day it took him a while until he saw who lived in the house that belonged to the garden where he got his meals from. He had just woken up when his ears turned at a strange sound. 

Rubbing his eyes, he took a peak between the wooden slats that the barn was made of and froze in his position. There was a human right across the street from him, pulling a trash can right behind him. It looked heavy and Namjoon wondered if there was something inside that was still edible. Hopefully he could take a look before the garbage collection would take it with them. He had found tasty things in garbage cans before, especially if he had been lucky enough to get one that the supermarkets used. Unfortunately, those were always more secured and in open places with lots of light to scare off “dumpster divers”. He had still tried a few times but after he had been almost caught twice he deemed the risk too high. He had no idea what they would do to him if they caught him and realized to whom he had belonged. He rather ate bird food than risk finding it out.

❄️…❄️ 

Jimin rubbed his eyes together, pushing the trashcan at the side of the street. Blowing into his hands, he tried to warm them as he head back to his door. He had refilled the food every morning and sometimes even at night, wondering who was so hungry. Some evenings, Jimin had stood by the window with the lights being out in his apartment to see if he could spot a few of them - but there were only squirrels and a few small birds happily chiming in on the food. And yet, the next morning everything was gone again from the plate and he found it empty. In the end, Jimin bought a new pack of bird feed just this morning, because the other was already empty and added some apples into his cart. Usually Jimin didn’t have to buy a new one all winter, but normally there wasn’t as much hungry animals around. It wasn’t like he lived near a forest or something. 

Careful not to slip on the wet snow, Jimin walked back inside, yearning for a warm cup of cocoa. He was just about to fill his favorite mug with some milk, when he noticed out of the corner of his eyes that he had completely forgotten to take out the kitchen bag as well. With a sigh, Jimin gazed out of the window, letting out a whine when he saw the snowflakes falling. For a moment he hesitated, whether he should just bring it out the next the morning and just leave it be, trying to ignore the fact that usually the garbage trucks came pretty early and he usually was still asleep. Jimin groaned and took the bag out of its container, before he headed out of the door again.  

Namjoon had waited for a little while after the human had left the street and went back into his home but he was too curious and too restless to wait for longer so he sneaked out of the barn shortly after even though he knew he should wait until everyone was certainly asleep. Looking left and right he slowly crossed the street, ducking behind everything that could hide him a little bit, but it wasn’t necessary no one was out in the cold. Carefully Namjoon opened the lid of the trash can and sniffed. There was the smell of decay and something moldy, but he had expected that. People were so spoilt with food that they put stuff in the trash that was still edible. Namjoon didn’t mind mealy apples or old food. You could soak hardened bread or cut off parts that were burnt or musty. He would surely get a nice meal tonight! 

Jimin was about to close the door behind him, trying to keep the cold from creeping when he saw movement out of the corner of his eyes. A sound like someone roaming around in his trash made him jump around, holding onto the bag as he stared into a pair of gleaming eyes – not longer than a second. 

Namjoon had just managed to get hold of a half-eaten chicken wing when he heard the door open. He froze, heart beating so loud that he could hear it in his ears. He was out in the open here - and running towards the barn might give away his hiding spot too! He was hesitating long enough for the human to come within sight and Namjoon lost it. 

He hissed, a sound that wasn’t that dangerous anymore because the fear that washed over him like a wave choked him off. With the chicken wing in hand he ran, blindly and carelessly running into the next bushes because he needed to get away now before the human could call the animal service. 

Jimin froze on the spot, eyes wide as he stared at the spot where the animal had gotten out of sight for him. Only now did he get out of his stupor, letting the bag fall and hurry towards the trashcan to close the lid again. Jimin looked over his shoulder, breathing heavily as his heart was beating fast. He gulped hard, eyes flickering around to spot the animal – or whatever it had been. Either way it wasn’t a squirrel, or a bird and it was definitely bigger than a dog. Jimin stood there for what felt like an eternity until his feet felt like frozen blocks. “I’m sorry I scared you,” Jimin took a step closer to the bushes, where he had last seen the intruder and came to a halt there. He waited, listening closely for any sounds, before he retreated slowly again. The animal was gone.

❄️…❄️ 

Namjoon had been running for about twenty minutes before he dared to stop. his breath came in harsh pants and his throat felt sore because the cold night air had roughed it up. He had messed it up, he had been too greedy. he should make sure to find a new spot to sleep now in case the human would go searching around or tell people or call the animal service after all. He needed to be sure that no one knew where he was. Namjoon shivered in the cold. The snowflakes were landing gently on his form, wetting his hair and soaking his clothes. He was still holding onto the chicken wing so he crouched down behind some bushes to eat it before it would freeze into a block of ice.

❄️…❄️ 

Jimin stood by the window, trying to spot whatever he had seen and hissed at him only hours ago, but it was still quiet. There was nothing, but the leaves moving with the wind and the snow that was falling slowly. The temperatures would drop even more tonight and Jimin bit his lip, worrying and replaying the moment he had seen the shadow when he gasped, and his eyes widened. 

“Hybrid,” Jimin turned on his heel quick, his heart racing fast as he reached for the blanket from his couch and then ran into the kitchen again to get a thermos. “Of course,” He was mumbling to himself, putting one by one together. There was only one animal that could reach into his trash, hiss at him and then run away on two legs. One that wasn’t entirely animal in his being. Jimin had seen a few hybrids before, but usually only someone rich enough to be able to afford one could buy one or get a hybrid from the shelter to take care of.  

Not really caring about putting on shoes, Jimin stepped out on the snow, soaking his socks - but he ignored it as he rushed to the bird’s feed and put the blanket there and the thermos that was filled with hot tea. He was only hoping that the other would find his way back and that he hadn’t scared him off completely. 

❄️…❄️ 

Namjoon was cowering in the bushes for a while, half expecting someone with a stick chasing him out and he had seen people use electric shock devices as well. He was frozen in place because if he ran now he would be out in the open. Every car, every late night walker would see him, and he was too dirty, too weird to not let people notice. However, he couldn’t stay here, now that the human had gotten a look he needed to get away as soon as possible. He should climb into the barn one last time and take everything that would warm him. He had felt bad for stealing in the beginning, but he was too close to purest survival to really care anymore. He would get up and get the stuff right now! Or maybe.. maybe he would do it in a few seconds, just too be sure… or maybe a few seconds longer, until the light behind the windows would have gone out. 

The fear of being discovered and the cold literally freezing him were holding him in place and so he waited... and waited until his limbs were shaking and his lips were turning blue. His bod was getting numb from the cold and he knew that it was starting to get dangerous, but he didn’t dare to move, still, even though he knew he should. 

When the door opened again, and the human came out he flinched so hard he almost fell over. He tried to mobilize his cold limbs enough to run when he saw that the other was carrying blankets and a bottle. He watched in surprise as the human placed all of it at the bird feeding station and then went back inside as if… as if he had been leaving those things for him! Surely it must be a trap!

Jimin closed the door again, waiting for a moment as he looked outside before finally turning around and turning off the light. He didn’t want the hybrid to be scared that he would come out or still be there and watch him. So, instead Jimin walked to his kitchen and made himself some tea as well. He slipped out of his wet socks, throwing them somewhere, where he could fetch them later, when he saw a shadow scur over the new fallen snow and towards the bird feed. 

Namjoon had kept in his place, sitting and waiting for the other to jump out or get the blankets back inside because Namjoon wouldn’t take them. However, nothing had happened. Even the light at the house went out. So, the human either used some night watch goggles to still watch him or some kind of camera. It must be that. Who would freely give out blankets and water? He might have been kind with the bird food before, but he knew now that Namjoon wasn’t some stray animal or else he wouldn’t have left a bottle. This had to be a trap. No one was stupid enough to take care of a stray hybrid. And yet the later it got and the less he could feel his limbs Namjoon’s willpower melted away until all he could think about was the blankets. He needed to move, he needed to get warm. He might die from hypothermia if he stayed in the bushes and even if it was a trap and they got him he might survive the night and then.. he might be able to run away again…

Crouched down he started to inch closer, trying to stay under the radar but he wasn’t graceful or moving fluidly, he was too cold for that. When he finally reached the blankets, they felt stiff and cold as well but when he threw them over his shoulders it got instantly warmer and then he discovered that the bottle wasn’t filled with water, it was tea, hot, delicious tea and he gulped down as much as he could stomach.

Jimin couldn’t see much but the shadow, but the smile on his lips grew even wider when he saw that the hybrid was enjoying his gift and that he hadn’t run away. A little hastily, but he still did, and he promised to himself to do the same again the next day. But for now, he hoped it was enough to sleep through the night – for both of them.

❄️…❄️

When Jimin’s alarm made him jerk up again and he sleepily shuffled through his living room the next morning, he almost oversaw it. When his eyes fell on the grey thermos that stood right in front of his door he couldn’t believe it: the hybrid had brought it back to him.

He instantly walked over, tying his robe a little tighter around his waist before opening the door. Jimin shivered from the cold. It had snowed again, and the human wondered how close the hybrid must be. Taking the thermos, he closed the door again and did the same routine as last night again. Jimin took the thermos that was filled with hot tea again, some apples and vegetables he still had in his fridge and placed them right outside his door again.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin spoke a little louder, hoping that his neighbors wouldn’t see him and wonder who he was talking to at the ass crack of dawn. “I’ll be gone to work soon. You’ll see my car there will be gone so you can come here freely.” Jimin looked around, trying to spot a movement. “If…if you need more blankets, maybe you can give me a sign…just…” He took the lid off the thermos, “Just place it next to it so I know you need more blankets, okay?” Jimin waited for a moment, then put the lid back and got up.

Namjoon’s had a good night's sleep in the barn with the new blankets and a stomach full of warm tea. He had curled up tightly, hiding completely under the blankets to keep warmer and also to stay hidden in case anyway took a look into the barn. He woke up when Jimin placed the food to the bird feeding place, but he was only conscious enough to get the last part because it took him a while to get up and listen in. He was a little wary that the human didn’t seem to mind but he had kind of reach out to him in a way. Putting the thermos back on the other’s stairs had been the only way to tell him that he appreciated the gift as he had nothing else to give in return. Apparently though it had been enough for the human to continue to feed him with even more food than before. He couldn’t wait for the other to be gone to get the food. It was so much that he would been able to store some of it away for tomorrow - or a bad day when the other would stop feeding him for free. 

❄️…❄️ 

Jimin had no clue that Namjoon was hiding in the barn at the end of his garden. It was overgrown, old and rusty and Jimin was always just waiting for it to crash down one day. He’d never used it. He wasn’t good with his garden anyways and usually, when spring came he let someone else take care of it.  

The human had bought a few more things at the store after work, excited to feed his little new neighbor. Somehow it gave him something to do, while usually his nights had been pretty boring as all he did was go to work, come back and watch tv. His house was too big for him, but it was all he had and Jimin was proud of it. But now, with his new routine, it felt a little easier to get up in the morning and to come home again – as if someone was waiting for him. Jimin kept talking to the hybrid, even though he couldn’t see him, placing all kinds of new things he bought outside and some tea, hoping that it would get him through the winter. Even if he had to do it every day – and of course Jimin didn’t stop feeding the birds, too.  

“This is a new tea I bought. I’m not sure if it will taste good but you would have to tell me.” Jimin laughed as he placed the thermos down again, realizing he had forgotten the food. “Oh! I’ll be back in a second!” 

It had become a habit for Namjoon, and a dangerous one at that. Because instead of waiting until he was absolutely certain that Jimin was gone Namjoon came out of his hiding spot sooner sometimes. Jimin never turned around or came back. So, he was about to climb down the tree that he used to get in and out of the barn when he saw that Jimin was on his way back to the feeding place, food in hand. Namjoon froze, holding his breath as if that would help him. He was pretty sure Jimin wouldn’t overlook a fully grown hybrid hanging in the tree next to the feeding place - although he hadn’t seen him yet. He felt hot and cold all over, waiting for it to happen.

Jimin was so immersed in his task, that he didn’t see Namjoon at all, placing the food down as he kept on talking. “It’s just a bit of rice and vegetables. I hope you like it.” He was about to turn around, when Jimin saw something move out of the corner of his eyes. Carefully, he turned around, eyes wide as his gaze followed up to see who was lurking around on the tree, when he met another pair of eyes. Their eye contact was cut off roughly though, when the hybrid jumped down, crouching to cushion the fall. Jimin squealed in surprise, jumping back but he wasn’t scared. He stood in awe, mouth agape as he stared at the hybrid in front of him. 

Namjoon almost managed to stay hidden to the other when his leg started cramping from the uncomfortable position. He moved, just slightly - and the other looked up at him. Without thinking Namjoon jumped down, not wanting to hang there like a fruit to be plucked. They were staring at each other, Namjoons light amber eyes meeting the dark browns of the human - who seemed a little intimidated by his size. Or maybe he had expected something cute like a cat or a bunny and was now shocked when being faced with a predator.

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat, a motion that it hadn’t done it a while and surprised him so much that it made him gasp for air. He gulped, looking up at the hybrid that stood tall in front of him and was…

“Handsome,” Jimin whispered the words out loud, only realizing then what he had said. His eyes widened and cheeks blushed vividly red. “I mean…” He tried to think of something quick, but there was nothing witty he could think of an instead Jimin reached for the pot of rice and held it out for the hybrid. “F-for you. You’re the one living in my garden, right?”

“Wh..what?” Of everything the other could have said this was the farthest away from what he had expected. Had he really just been called handsome? Or did he jump down from that tree too fast and had gotten himself dizzy? He cautiously reached out his hands to take the rice. It was a full pot, a day’s worth of food and Namjoon wondered why the other was giving so freely when he couldn’t get something back in return. “Yeah that’s.. that’s me. Thank you for.. all the food. And blankets. And.. and the tea.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears. He hadn’t talked to anyone in a while. They were quiet again for a little while both of them too wary and too awkward to talk until Namjoon quietly dared to ask what had been bothering him since it had been obvious Jimin knew he was close. “Why... haven’t you called the animal services. Or the police? Do you want... my fur?”

“Your fur? What do I want with it and why should I? You haven’t been bothering me.” Jimin smiled honestly at the hybrid, “It gave me a nice routine as well, makes waking up in the morning a little easier if you know something might be waiting for you to refill.” He bit his lip, trying not to overwhelm the other. Jimin was still surprised at his sudden appearance, when the last couple of days he hadn’t even seen a shadow. “Also, do you think I look like a fur coat owner?” He made a face of disgust, “That’s just cruel.”

Namjoon cocked his head, giving the other a thorough once over. He hadn’t been that close to the other before. He looked… young, with a soft face and kind eyes. His words however spoke of loneliness and Namjoon was confused. “So, you live entirely alone?” He had been sure that someone else would visit that house, maybe coming back from holidays but no one had been visiting Jimin at all since Namjoon had stayed in the barn. “Routine, that’s it? You’re spending all that time and money and food and effort on me just to give you routine?” His brows furrowed. “Surely you must want something in return.” There wasn’t a certain ‘look’ to fur lovers, but they’d look at Namjoon differently than Jimin did. He wasn’t fixated on his presenting animal traits he looked into his eyes. Like he was a person.

Jimin shook his head again. “I saw you were hungry and figured you must be cold. I wasn’t even sure if you still were close or if I chased you away. I was just happy to see you alive and enjoy the tea, honestly. You really don’t have to be afraid of me. I have absolutely no use for your fur.” He smiled softly at the hybrid, wrapping himself a little closer in his jacket. This year’s winter was extremely cold and Jimin could tell from the hybrid’s clothes that he wasn’t wearing much to protect him from it. “If you want, you can come inside. I have a fireplace where you can warm yourself up and I can make you some soup.”  

“You want me to come inside? Into your home? To eat soup?” Namjoon repeated, getting more and more wary. This didn’t make any sense. He had been hunted by humans, had been owned and treated like a piece of furniture and he had seen, heard and read about wild hybrids being caught and killed off if they didn’t have someone who claimed ownership over them, simply because they were ‘dangerous’. He had been on the run for weeks, scared to be seen by anyone because of that. And there he was now, standing in front of a human who had fed him, cared for him and who offered him, a predatory hybrid, some soup inside of the house. Was that man an adrenaline Junkie searching for a high through danger? Or did he underestimate him and wanted to keep him like an exotic pet that he could use for entertainment and show off to others? 

“In case this is some kind of trap I’m warning you; I didn’t have my teeth filed nor have been declawed. I can do just as much damage as the animal that’s part of me.” 

Jimin simply nodded at that. He couldn’t help it though; his heart was beating just a little faster. The hybrid in front of him was predatory, he should be careful - but at the same time something told him that he wouldn’t hurt him. “Only if you want to. You can also just take the tea again,” Jimin pointed at the thermos before turning around. “Don’t leave the door open for too long or else all the heat will escape.” With that he slid the living room door open, smiling at the hybrid over his shoulder, before he went in and prepared the fireplace.  

Namjoon was surprised by the youngers nonchalance and despite better knowledge it intrigued him to see what the other had in store for him. He hadn’t had to fight and defend himself with teeth and claws for a while now, but he figured if necessary he would be able to use it without hesitation. Besides he had won against bigger and scarier people than this soft, kind-eyed human. And who could say no to hot soup on a cold winter's day? Definitely not him. Carefully and with a slightly tense stance he went after the other, leaving the door open behind him, just to be sure…

Jimin rubbed his hands together and held them against the heat that was now coming from the fireplace. “Do you rather want a chicken soup? I still have some. It just would take a little longer to prepare the meat.” He asked, when Namjoon was still standing at the door, hesitating to come in fully. Jimin’s living room was wide and the open kitchen, made it look even bigger. A grey couch stood in the middle with a few splashes of color from the cushion that were spread all around brightening it up. “You can feel at home…,” Jimin hesitated, his eyes widened when he realized he didn’t know the strangers name, yet. “I am so sorry. I guess I was so surprised to see you, but I am Jimin.” He took a step closer to the hybrid and held out his hand with the brightest smile. 

Was this a trick question? Of course, he would love to get some chicken soup. He started salivating at the mentioning of meat alone and his stomach cramped in anticipation. He couldn’t remember when had been the last time that he had gotten something like meat. If he didn’t count that canned dog food that they had given all the animals from the private zoo when they had taken them in then it must have been when his owner was still alive. So, months ago. He was so lost in thoughts and remembrance that it surprised him when Jimin held out his hand and he jumped back, instinctively baring his fangs. When he realized that Jimin had just tried to shake his hand he blushed, reaching out to shake his hand as expected.

“I’m...” He hesitated for a second. How high was the chance that they had broadcasted his name during the all-points bulletin? They normally concentrated on their looks, their history, how dangerous they were. He had never heard a name. Those weren’t important to humans. “My name is Namjoon.” He finally answered honestly, hoping he wasn’t making a grave mistake right now.

Jimin bit his lip. He couldn’t hide the excitement that he felt, how intrigued he was by the beautiful man standing in front of him. Namjoon’s ears twitched, when he gazed up at them and Jimin scrunched his nose in a cute manner, still holding onto his hand. “Do you want to help me or rather want to rest in front of the fire, Namjoon?” 

“I’d like to help you if that's okay.” Which wasn’t a lie exactly. However, telling Jimin that he wouldn’t be able to rest anyway if he knew that Jimin was in the kitchen where there were knives as well as a telephone to call back up wouldn’t be that ‘polite’. So, he rather kept an eye on him while pretending to be all friendly and helpful. Not that he wasn’t he just didn’t knew the other well enough to let go of his wariness.

Jimin finally let go off his hand, feeling a little tingle at his spine when he did. He really needed to go out with friends more, Jimin thought to himself. “Here, you can prepare the meat if you want.” Jimin opened the fridge and offered Namjoon a package, before pointing at some kitchen shelves. “You can find seasoning over there and a pot down in the counter.” It was a nice feeling to not just cook for himself, but to prepare the meal together – almost as if they were friends already. Jimin couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose, when he saw the tail swinging back and forth softly when Namjoon turned his back on him. 

Namjoon opened the fridge and had to squint his eyes at the bright light. When his sensitive eyes got used to the brightness he was stunned into silence for a moment. There where so many kinds of food - and enough of it to life off it for a week. A wild instinctual thought passed through him that told him to grab as much food as he could and then run to a secure place where he could prepare a nest and stay safe and warm. However, he knew better than to trust his instincts here. There was no way he would survive in the city, during the cold, harsh winter even with an arm full of food. He didn’t need to ask where the chicken was he could smell it right away. When he took out the package the juicy meet pressed against his fingers and he let out a soft, appreciative sigh. 

Jimin let Namjoon chose whatever he wanted in his soup and began to prepare the utensils, placing them down at the counter. He waited for the hybrid to bring everything over and started cutting the vegetables. “How long have you been out there, Namjoon? If I am allowed to ask,” Jimin looked at the other, wanting to make sure he knew he could refuse to answer if it made him feel uncomfortable. “Have you always been just out there or?”

After bringing over the chicken he hastily licked his fingers, turning half away from Jimin so the other couldn’t see how greedy he was. It tasted heavenly and he couldn’t wait to finally get his teeth into the meat as well. Namjoon stayed close, watching Jimin handling the knife and washing some vegetables instead to have something to do. He was pretty sure the other didn’t want him cutting stuff as well. “I’ve been in your area for about… three weeks now I guess.” Which was completely true. Jimin didn’t have to know that he had roamed through other parts of the cities as well. “No, I haven’t always lived like that.” He kept his answers short, nothing to make Jimin recognize who he was in case he had watched any news about missing hybrids. “How about you? Have you always lived here?” If he kept the other busy then maybe he wouldn’t ask too many questions.

“Me neither,” Jimin continued and gave the knife over to Namjoon, before he started pouring in the vegetables into the soup. “This house is quite big for just one person, right?” He sighed, “I bought it with…with someone a few years ago but that person never moved in.” A weak smile pulled at his lips, “So, I’m alone. You don’t really have to be scared of anyone coming. Most of my friends live closer to the city.”

“Well I’ve learned that one cruel person can be enough...” He answered back under his breath without meaning to. At Jimin’s face he quickly bowed his head. “I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but nice to me. And if you’re really as kind as you were to me until now then I want to apologize and say… thank you. For the food, for the warmth and the.. the kindness. It’s just...” He bit his lip and then decided to be blunt, “You are the first person I met that hasn’t any ulterior motives. At least none that I can see. And it makes me utterly nervous because if I’m wrong and you are not who you pretend to be then… I don’t want to end up as some trophy, dead, in a private museum of some sort. Or in one of the illegal fighting areas. Or as some sex slave in your basement.”

Jimin stood speechless for a moment, eyes on Namjoon as he spoke so honest from his heart and telling him his concerns. He stopped what he was doing, resisting the urge to reach out for the hybrid and hug him tight. “I see that humans have hurt you a lot, but I won’t. You’re the one with the knife right now and you’re a predator, right? One that is much taller than me.” Jimin leaned against the kitchen counter, “I don’t think you need to be the one being worried here. And if you need to know it: I voted for hybrid rights.” He nodded proudly, “A friend of mine is actually very well-spoken about the issue. I try and support him as much as I can but I’m not really the speaker kind of person.” Holding out his hand, Jimin motioned for the chicken. “Do you want me to put it in?”

Namjoon looked at Jimin without blinking, scanning every word, every gesture with his unwavering gaze. If Jimin was a liar then he was a damn good one because as far as Namjoon could tell the other really meant what he said. If only he could lean in and sniff the other, a scent could say so much about a person, but he knew that humans didn’t sniff each other, and he didn’t want to startle his benefactor. He nodded as answer to the chicken question, wondering why Jimin was so careful to include him in the meal preparations.

Jimin began to stir the pot, adding a few more seasonings, before giving it over to Namjoon again. In the meantime, he prepared something to drink and brought it all over to the coffee table. “I don’t want to be rude, but…” Jimin chuckled, when he pointed at Namjoon’s dirty clothes, “Do you maybe want to take a shower while this cooks? I can give you a few clothes as well and put these into the washing machine. I won’t move until you’re back, I promise. The bathroom is right down the hallway. You can just take a towel from the shelves and use my shampoo. I don’t mind.”

“A shower…” Namjoon repeated dumbfoundedly. He had almost forgotten how it was to stand under a spray of warm water. “Thank you I’d appreciate that.” He walked down the hallway slowly, ears twitching to see if Jimin really stayed where he said he would. When he didn’t hear anything he carefully stepped into the bathroom. There were tiles on the floor and the cold made him stop for a second. Then he locked the door and undressed. It was strange, the moment he got out of his clothes he really felt how filthy they were. As long as they had been on his body he hadn’t mind but now with the prospect of clean, warm water and new clothes he shuddered at how stiff and dirty they were. In the shower it took him awhile to find out how it worked, and he hissed in shock when the water started cold instead of warm but then he closed his eyes and just relaxed. It was wonderfully warm and relaxing and Namjoon almost purred with joy. 

When he had stepped out of the shower Namjoon had felt like a whole new person. He was a little embarrassed that even though he had scrubbed himself clean the towel still got a little dirty from drying himself up and some lose fur that the water didn’t get rid of. As he didn’t want to step back into his dirty clothes he wrapped the furry towel around his waist and then walked out, tail swinging comfortably. There were no new clothes around, so he was about to ask Jimin where he had put the one he had promised. The other was still busy preparing the table and as Namjoon didn’t want to interrupt him he stayed where he was, waiting for Jimin to get aware of his presence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a drop of water running over his shoulder and without thinking he licked it off. It was that moment that Jimin turned and Namjoon froze with his tongue out, like an actual cat cleaning itself.

Jimin had been busy preparing their meal until it was finished, not even minding that a stranger was in his house right now. It felt good not to be alone for once. With his mind being so at ease, Jimin began to sing to himself softly, while he was moving around in the kitchen. He was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn’t hear when the water stopped running or the bathroom door opened again. So, he hadn’t expected Namjoon to be right behind him again, standing in his living room like the Greek-hybrid god that he was. Jimin had maybe told Namjoon that he would give him clothes, but in his haste to finish the food, he had forgotten to give him some, leading him to stare at a very naked chest right now. Jimin gasped, eyes fixated on Namjoon’s sculpted chest.

He just kept staring at him. His mind was blank. Heart beating fast and somehow he felt a little dizzy. Licking over his lips slowly, Jimin gulped and his gaze wandered down again. Maybe he should get something to drink, feeling a little thirsty. He coughed awkwardly, trying to get out of his stance, when it just blurted out of him, realizing a bit too late that his thoughts and what he said didn’t add up: “And you worry about me. With those muscles you could easily bend me over.” His eyes widened in shook, “Break me. My bones, I mean. You could break me in half.” Jimin let out a quiet whine, cheeks flaming red as he turned around to hastily stir the pot. “M-my bedroom is upstairs. I mean…there’s my closet. Just take what you need.”

Namjoon wasn’t stupid; he had seen Jimin’s look and had recognized how his pupils had dilated. His muscles tensed again. “Are you sure you’re not trying something? Forgetting my clothes on purpose? Is that what you’re after? Fucking a hybrid?”

He latched onto the first thing that seemed to explain Jimin’s kindness. People were mostly after money. And the rest of them were after sex or similar entertainment.

“I have to warn you, though. You know that cat penises are barbed? Mine is just like that. I would hurt you in a way you’d never recover from. And if you’re trying to drug and rape me you have no idea how much strength I have, I’d go feral before you would even get to undress me!” He was totally bullshitting, not about the cat penis stuff, that one was true, but his private parts were entirely human. He held onto the towel more tightly to make sure it couldn’t fall and call out his bluff. His stomach started cramping again, this time not because of food but because of nerves. He could feel cold sweat on his now warm skin at the thought of having been so naive to take a shower like that without any precautions.

“No!“ Jimin felt like his heart dropped. “I am so sorry I made you feel uncomfortable. It is really not what I was trying...I just...was.“ He sighed, rubbing over his face in a desperate manner. Leave it to Jimin to fuck it all over in a matter of seconds. “You're really handsome, Namjoon. And I am really sorry. I am so embarrassed.“ He bit his lip and averted his gaze, feeling so out of place right now. He would never hurt someone like that but of course he had to stumble over his own stupidity. “The soup will be finished in a bit. I'll get you some clothes, then you can eat.“ He tried a smile and carefully got around the couch to get to the hallway without making the other uncomfortable. He had prepared everything anyways. The fire was lit, the table was set, and he had even placed a few cushions and blankets where Namjoon could sit to feel more comfortable. “I won't bother you. You can eat and warm yourself up here, just like I promised.“

Jimin reacted so shocked, almost hurt that Namjoon felt bad for entirely different reasons now. He had wiped the smile off the younger’s face so permanently that it felt like there was something wrong. He had jumped to conclusions just by one look and instead of being flattered, fear and his bitter past had clouded his judgement. He stood there, waiting for Jimin to return with his clothes. The other couldn’t even look at him anymore, probably too worried that Namjoon would misunderstand again and gave him the clothes before trying to turn away. Namjoon quickly held him back. “I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, apologetic and laced with shame. “I didn’t want to… to ruin this. I knew you were looking forward to the company, weren’t you? I’ll try to be a little more trusting, okay? I just have one condition before. Can I..” He cleared his throat “Would you let me sniff you?”

“It was my fault, please don't apologize. I told you I'm not a good speaker. It won't happen again.“ Jimin's voice sounded quiet and unsure, but he nodded at Namjoon's request anyways. 

Namjoon kept his grip on Jimin’s elbow light but secure as he leaned in. Closing his eyes, he pressed his nose against Jimin’s pulse point where the skin was thin and delicate and Jimin’s natural scent was strongest. The hybrid inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a second to savor the scent like a sommelier would savior a special kind of wine that he had the opportunity to taste for the first time. Jimin smelled sweet and a little spicy, like licorice root and aniseed. It was warm and comforting and Namjoon liked it immediately.

“So… he brought a little distance between them, just a few inches before pushing a little, “You think I’m handsome?” Jimin’s cheeks blushed but there were no edges to his smell, no bitterness or wrongness that indicated that Jimin was planning to be reckless or greedy or cruel. Just a little tinge of acridness that came from shame. “Don’t worry, it’s okay. I think you’re quite good looking too. For a human.”

Jimin had to admit that he liked it way too much already, the feel of his whiskers tickling him and how he leaned into him. He took a deep breath to recollect himself. “T-thank you,” Jimin said quietly, still feeling a tad awkward how their nice “getting to know each other” had been ruined by him and Namjoon’s penis talk.

He shifted, looking up at him, because the hybrid was still holding onto him as if he was waiting for something. “I...I’ll finish the soup.” He hastily spoke up and turned on his heel, shuffling back into the kitchen, where he could finally escape the hybrid’s gaze. Jimin left Namjoon the space while getting ready and dressed again (thank god, Jimin loved oversize clothing), while he himself got lost in his thoughts. He really needed to watch his mouth and yet, he couldn’t help it. Sometimes he felt like his mouth and brain were wired wrongly. It happened one too many times that the wrong things came out, although they were true. Jimin looked over his shoulder to where Namjoon got comfortable on the floor, fluffing up a cushion. He had seen humans being in relationships with hybrids before, but it was still not as accepted as it should be, because most people held hybrids as a pet or an assistant for cleaning or whatever work they needed them for. Jimin thought it was just slavery, nothing else - because sometimes they didn’t even pay them. Then he thought about Yoongi, who had gotten Jungkook from a shelter. A pika hybrid, that Jimin loved dearly and loved to visit as much as he could. They loved each other and Jimin had never minded it, despite their differences it was the perfect arrangement for them. And Yoongi was the safest place for Jungkook to be. He smiled as he thought of the pairing, making a mental note to call them soon. Jimin took the plates and carefully walked over to where Namjoon was waiting, placing the one with the most chicken in it right in front of the hybrid. Keeping a bit of distance between them, Jimin sat on the couch, hoping that Namjoon didn’t feel threatened again. 

Namjoon’ gaze was fixated on the plate, so he saw a little too late that Jimin was walking away with his own plate in hand. Apparently the younger was trying to stick to what he had told him, about giving him space. Namjoon looked at the chicken again, then at Jimin and then sighed deeply. As delicious as his food might smell he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it with a guilty conscious. “I’m sorry I reacted so harshly. Please don’t keep your distance like that. I’m over it. You’re not a bad person - or at least you don’t have any bad intentions towards me, and I’d be really surprised if you’d be hiding some dark secrets behind those soft eyes. You don't look the type. And now that I know for sure… look, it was a knee jerk reaction. I was in survival mode for so long I think I have to re-learn how to properly socialize again. I would appreciate it if we can just forgot what I said ten minutes ago and pretend it never happened. Okay?” In an attempt to lighten the mood and bring back the others smile he added jokingly, “Or are you scared I’ll steal your food? If yes I can tell you that a couch won’t keep me, so you better come here so you don’t get scratches on your nice leather.”

Jimin looked a little confused at first, but the warmth that spread through him at the prospect of Namjoon forgiving him was making him smile again. “So, you’re not mad anymore?” He asked just to be sure, waiting until Namjoon nodded. Jimin came closer again, sitting down right by the fire with the hybrid. He watched the other dive into the food hungrily and took a spoonful himself, humming at the taste. Jimin was only halfway done, when Namjoon was already asking for a second plate. He just shrugged his shoulders and told him that they didn’t make a full pot of chicken soup for nothing. It made Jimin smile to see Namjoon so happy as he jumped up to get more, and seeing the hybrid relax a little more in his presence. “Why did you have to be in survival mode?” Jimin asked after a while, curious to know more about the soft-looking bobcat. “You said you’ve been outside for three weeks?”

The chicken was heavenly and Namjoon moaned in delight. He had to fight hard against his instinct to swallow it all down as quickly as possible so he chew very carefully to make sure he wouldn’t get sick and could savor the taste as long as possible. “I wasn’t mad at you. I was just…scared. If anything, I should be flattered that you think I’m attractive it’s just been my fear warping it into something negative because of what…what I’ve heard. Or seen. I know now that you’re harmless. My nose doesn’t lie. You can’t hide your smell unless you’re wearing cologne or perfume to cover it and you’re not wearing any. So... it’s fine. For whatever reason you’re really just a nice person caring for others without wanting anything back. I still need to wrap my head around that, but I’ll manage. And I’m sure it’ll sink in quicker if I could get.. another plate of soup...maybe?” He gave Jimin a careful smile, hoping the other wouldn’t be offended by his greediness. While Jimin filled his plate again he decided that some honesty was the least he could give to pay the other back. “Well I said I was three weeks in your neighbourhood not out in total. Believe me though even three weeks outside in the cold would make you go into survival mode. I.. didn’t have any food before you. I had to try and get what was left on apple trees or private trash cans. The supermarket ones are too out the open to be safe. And.. you know that if a hybrid gets caught that they are locked up? And... that might even be better than freezing to death in the streets but... there’s... I should... the police is looking for me. I’m not some cute little house cat or soft purebred bunny to be petted and shown off. I think... I’m... I’m pretty sure they would put me down if they got their hands on me.” His hand started to tremble when he remembered their hands on him, the metal collar cold on his neck as they tried to lock it and the sheer, cold, pure fear that ran through his veins like ice because he knew that he would be helpless if they managed to pull through, that they could shock him or render him unconscious or simply kill him just by pressing a button.

A shiver ran down his spine and Jimin blinked at Namjoon, feeling absolutely speechless. Even though he had heard about the cruelty against some hybrids before, he still couldn’t imagine it and seeing his hybrid being affected like this, trying to make it through the cold winter without freezing to death.  

“You can stay here.” The words were out quickly, before Jimin could even think about them - but he didn’t regret it. “You can stay in my home. I got enough room and if you’re inside...at least for the winter, you’ll survive. No one can find you here.” He felt a little breathless, as his heartbeat quickened at the thought of hiding away a hybrid and going against the law like that.  

Namjoon whipped around, staring at Jimin in total disbelief. “W...what? You want me to.. what?” He blinked, thinking he might have misheard. It was one thing to feed someone soup but letting him stay here for the winter? If someone noticed, if someone called the police then Jimin would be in trouble just as much because hiding a police-wanted predator wouldn’t be taken lightly. Nonetheless hope bloomed in his chest and the thought of having a bed and warmth and food without having to worry about how he would make the next day or survive until next week had him tearing up against his will. “You… you would do that? For real?” He turned his head away in shame as the first few tears begin to fall. “You’re not.. toying with me, are you?” What was worse than being hopeless was being teased with what you were so dearly longing for just for it to be taken away when you reached out for it. 

Jimin gasped quietly, when he saw the tears in his eyes and shifted closer to him. Very slowly and with shaking hands, Jimin reached out for him, cupping his cheek lightly to make him look up. “I would, yes,” Jimin smiled, soothing over his cheek to wipe away a tear, “You can take the time and figure out what you want. I can help you with anything you need then. But promise me a little something, will you. Just keep your head low and be careful. My neighbors know it’s just me living here and if they see someone running around in my house while I’m at work…” He sighed, “I want you to be safe and you deserve a warm place to sleep.” 

Namjoon leaned in a little more until he could feel Jimin’s warmth. He hadn’t been that close to someone in a while but Jimin’s hands on him felt so nice and comforting and he wanted to say thank you, but he wasn’t sure he would find enough words for it. He rubbed his head against Jimin’s shoulder like the big cat he was before pulling the younger into a hesitant hug. He wasn’t good with this. But he wanted to be. 

Because Jimin was lonely and he was lost and so maybe they could make it work so that both of them would get a little taste of happiness. 

They stayed like this for a little while until Namjoon trusted his voice again. “I would have licked you out of gratefulness, but I fear it would have made you smell like chicken soup, so I’ll do it another time when I didn’t had dinner right before.” 

Jimin was surprised at the sudden intimacy, but he slowly wrapped his arms around the hybrid, carefully holding him close while he was hiding against his shoulder. He laughed at what Namjoon said, scratching him behind his ears out of instincts - just like he always did it when Jungkook visited. “This hug is nice as well,” The human pulled back lightly and wiped over Namjoon’s cheeks, careful not to hurt his whiskers. “What kind of bed do you need to feel comfortable to sleep?” Jimin asked and chuckled, “Will be the couch enough for now? I can get some more blankets if you like to build yourself something comfortable. I’m not really sure what your kind likes.” 

A pleasant shiver run through him when Jimin scratched his ears like that. They were very sensitive and so it was easy to get a reaction out of him whenever they were touched. He laughed, low and rumbly at Jimin’s question. “I’ve slept on the floor most of the time. I can basically sleep anywhere. Haven’t you seen videos about cats? No matter how strange the place or situation, we can fall asleep there. So, you don’t have to worry, give me a cushion and a blanket if you have one to spare and I’ll be happy.” 

"So, Yoongi is a cat," Jimin mumbled to himself, chuckling at the thought of his friend being able to sleep basically anywhere - just like a cat. Jimin got up and took the plates with him to put them into the dishwasher, after that he walked upstairs to get a few more cushions and blankets out of the box by his bed where he had stored the extra sheets. His heart ached painfully at the thought of who they were meant to be for, but he quickly shook himself out of it and brought them to Namjoon. 

"Do you think that will be enough to get comfortable," Jimin was barely able to peak over the amount of fluffiness in his arms. 

“If I don’t choke under their fluffiness then yes, I’ll sleep most comfortably,” Namjoon answered with a laugh and then cocked his head. “Does this mean you’re going to sleep already?” It was dark outside, but he wasn’t feeling tired at all, there were still too many emotions inside of him. He felt like someone had given him (and his opinion on humans) a good shake. When he took the blankets from Jimin he froze in place, burying his nose in them to find out what exactly was smelling so strange about them. When he raised his head, his eyebrows were furrowed. “Did you have a hybrid before me living with you?” 

"Huh?" Jimin stood clueless for a moment before he caught up to what Namjoon said. "Oh, it's probably Jungkook that you smell. He loves playing with blankets when he visits me." He was getting a little nervous, hoping that Namjoon wasn't fearing him again or thought he was lying. "He is with a close friend of mine: Yoongi. When they got time and visit me, we always build blanket forts together. He is a pika, so he loves to be all fluffed up." Jimin laughed at the fond memory that came back to him, "Once Yoongi told me how he stacked hay and flowers in their bed, and he came back home to Jungkook being happy about keeping them warm in winter. Yoongi had to buy a new mattress, because the other was ruined." He shrugged his shoulders, "Well, he could have gotten it cleaned but he is too lazy for this. Now he hangs up little flowers on the wall, so Jungkook can still feel like he's cuddled up in hayflowers." 

Namjoon nodded absentmindedly. He had been torn between thinking he was smelling a bunny and a hamster so a pika made perfect sense. However the rest of Jimin’s speech confused him properly. “You mean Yoongi lets his hybrid run around unattended? Like… he’s not kept in a cage? And they are… sharing a bedroom? Together?” Whenever one of them had been let out of their cages in his owners private zoo there had always been a leash or harness put on them. He was getting dizzy thinking about what Jimin had just told him because it sounded almost as if… 

“Are they together?” He looked at Jimin totally dumbfounded. 

"They love each other, yes. Wouldn't that be weird if you let your partner be in a cage? Well, I mean whatever suits you best but...," Jimin started to fluff up a few cushions, placing them onto the couch, "They are happily together. If you want to, I can introduce you to them one day. I know it's still not widely accepted a human-hybrid relationship but... if it's love then why question it? I don't think love really cares about how you look like or what kind of race you are. And when you see them, you will notice it, too." Jimin's eyes began to shine as he talked more and more about the relationship between them. He was just so fond of them, aching to have a love like that one day.  

“Love?” It sounded strange speaking it aloud while Jimin seemed to be totally fine with it Namjoon had a hard time imagining it. Humans being nice to a hybrid out of pity for their situation had been confusing enough but hearing that there were people having relationships with their ‘pets’ was entirely new to him. “So Jungkook.. loves him back. He’s not..” He didn’t want to speak it out after the mess he had created before when he had implied that Jimin was trying to take advantage of him. He didn’t judge hybrids for sleeping with humans to stay alive. They all did what they had to keep breathing. Though a pika making a nest in a humans bedroom, that didn’t sound like abuse to him. Rather like comfort, like living together. “And you.. you think you could do that too? Love a hybrid?” He shook his head, “You’re a strange human, Jimin.” 

"And you're a strange hybrid," Jimin raised an eyebrow cheekily, before he turned a little more serious and took the blankets out of Namjoon's arms to place them down. The hybrid had been standing there, speechless, for a while now without moving. 

"I've been hurt by humans just like you." He said and folded the blanket nicely, before sitting down and motioning for Namjoon to do the same. "Why do you think I live alone in a big house like this? Does it look like it was supposed to be a single-apartment? But I don't know, Namjoon. If I fall in love, I will - no matter what the other person's features may be like. In the end, does it really matter?" He pulled his legs in to sit a little more comfortably. "So, do you think you could ever love a human?" 

“Well at least you haven’t been raised in a cage. Or kept on a leash and shown off to other people like some kind of pet. I was still lucky though that my owner liked what was dangerous about me, so I wasn’t declawed or anything. And that he saw us as animals not worthy to entertain him in his bedroom.” He wasn’t sure why it spilled out of him so easily now when he never had talked to anyone about it before. Probably because he wanted Jimin to understand why he acted while he did and why learning all those new things came as a such a surprise to him. “I’m still sorry for you. No one should leave alone or get his heart broken. Especially not someone as nice as you.” He shrugged his shoulders at Jimin’s question. “If you had asked me a few days ago I would ´have answered with ‘No’, but considering that apparently not all humans are cruel, hateful creatures I guess I might? I’m just not really sure how it would work.” 

"I am sorry, I didn't want to brush your experience off as it was the same than my own hurt. I can't even imagine the pain you must have been through and I am so sorry this happened to you. I really am. It's the least I can give back to you, from what they stole to you to give you a place to feel home now." Jimin pulled a little at one of the blankets to push his feet under it to keep them warm. "What do you mean? How love works?" He shifted a little closer to Namjoon until he could reach him, "You don't have to understand it, just feel it when it happens." He pointed at the hybrid's chest, right where his heart was and placed his hand there. "You'll feel it in your heart, here. Like a pull maybe and it will pump like crazy when that someone is close. Maybe you also feel shivers and just the deep need to be close to them and care for them, more than you would for yourself. Maybe your hybrid instincts will go crazy too?" Jimin smiled brightly, "Like being very protected." He pulled his hand back, when he got reminded about what Namjoon told him earlier though and quickly added, "Though your sexual needs...with a human and your..." He bit his lip, "That could be complicated, I guess." 

Namjoon blushed deeply when Jimin reminded him of his lie. “Oh, you mean…uhm, no, that wouldn’t be a problem I just... I lied to protect myself. I’m 100% human down there. Not that it matters I mean… I was talking about the love itself. It’s supposed to be built on trust and affection and closeness and all that and I guess I’m a little bad at that as I didn’t have any experience yet. I probably wouldn’t be a good partner. And… I don’t know it feels a little strange to think about being with someone. Letting someone so close to your heart...” He swallowed hard as a wave of longing hit him. He had dreamt about not being alone in the zoo of course where technically he hadn’t been alone with all those other hybrids around, but they had all been too scared or traumatized to form any kind of bonding. And when he had escaped after his owners death finding love hadn’t been exactly on top of his priority list. But now, sitting with Jimin and talking about it he realized that it was something that he definitely wanted. His voice sounded shy and vulnerable when he asked, quietly, as if it was a sacrilege to voice that thought, “You think someone could love me? Just…like I am?”  

“Absolutely,” It came out in a whisper and so easily over his lips as he got lost in the hybrid’s eyes that were full of hope, shining like a thousand stars. “You’ll see,” Jimin pushed a string of hair out of Namjoon’s face, softly soothing over his ears. “From what I’ve gotten to know about you until now, I know you’re a catch. Definitely. And you’ll be happy, I promise.”  

It took him by surprise how much adoration he saw in Jimin’s eyes. They were basically strangers and yet Jimin’s heart was big enough to find room for him. Somehow it didn’t seem that impossible to find happiness and love with Jimin by his side. 

“Yeah, I might,” He answered before leaning in and finally giving Jimin the cat kiss he deserved.

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you enjoyed our second little Winter Story this year! And we hope you enjoyed all of our fics that we posted this year! Cat and I are already working hard to give you even more next year :) Thank you for being such kind and lovely readers! Every comment, every heart or Kudos or Like and Reblog made our day! Thank you for supporting me and Cat. THANK YOU!

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[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Twenty-Eight

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: trigger warning for grief and excessive drinking

Morning wasn’t fucking welcome. At some point in the night Reneé had taken the bottles off the coffee table and put them away, probably. Amara rolled over with a groan, and rubbed her face. She had- someone had to tell Raziel. If Amara hadn’t already done so while drunk as fuck last night.

“Water?” Cin offered helpfully.

Amara grumbled, burrowing deeper into her shitty couch. Maybe if she went back to sleep, she could wake up and Lev wouldn’t be fucking dead.

That hadn’t worked when her parents were killed, though, so she shoved herself into a sitting position and flopped a hand around until Cin put the cup in her hand. She drank half of it, and set it down on the coffee table, rubbing her temples. “What time did I crash?”

“Late,” Cin replied dryly, petting her hair before padding off to the kitchen.

Amara only stumbled to her feet when she heard someone knocking on the door. “I got it, Ren,” she muttered, rubbing her face again before yanking open the door.

She was greeted by the sight of two tall men. The taller of the two reeked of magic, but his brown face was kind. A good witch, then, because she barely felt any sort of wariness about him. No, her attention was drawn to the shorter of the two, a sullen looking strawberry blonde with freckles splashed across his tanned skin. Considering that one was a demon, she was surprised sullen was the worst she was facing.

“Can I help you?” She asked, lifting her chin.

“Are you Amara Claire?” The witch asked.

“Who’s asking?” She shot back.

“I’m Cyrus,” the witch offered. “This is my mate, Sorin.”

Interesting. Witches didn’t always take mates. She eyed them both once more, before leaning against the doorway. “I’m kind of busy. Death in the family. What do you want?” Fuck, if she hadn’t managed to give herself a hangover this time.

“I’m sorry,” Cyrus said, grimacing. “We’ll be quick.” He nudged Sorin, the many rings on his fingers glinting in the midmorning sunlight.

“An angel killed my cousin,” Sorin said gruffly. “Several years ago. I want to know who.”

And they wanted her to do the work for them. “Your cousin,” Amara repeated slowly. She could make this work for her. “And how do you know it was an angel? Demons aren’t exactly a friendly bunch.”

“No, we aren’t,” Sorin said, flashing a mirthless smile with just enough fang she recognized the veiled threat for what it was. Fucking demon posturing. “I did what I could, and it definitely wasn’t a demon. Angels aren’t exactly friendly with demons, normally anyway, and I know Fax used to date one. An angel, that is. Doesn’t take a leap to get to the conclusion an angel did it.”

“Fax,” Amara echoed, mulling over things. “That short for anything?” As if she didn’t know already.

“Fairfax,” Sorin clarified.

“And you expect me to just help you for nothing?”

Sorin bristled, a low sound building in his chest, but Cyrus dropped a hand on Sorin’s arm. “What are your prices? We’re willing to pay whatever.”

Amara considered the witch, letting the taste of his magic coat her tongue. “I’m sure I could think of something.”

“You’re dealing with me,” Sorin snapped. “Leave Cy out of our deals.”

“Sorin,” Cyrus chastised as Amara gave a low laugh.

“For an omega, you sure are territorial,” Amara said sweetly, just to see the anger flicker in those piercing blue eyes.

“It’s fine,” Cyrus said. “But if it’s my magic you want, I’m limiting you to one spell.”

“Fine.” Amara straightened. “Right. Well. Like I said. I’m busy. Death in the family myself. My cousin, if you can believe it. What a coinkydink. His name was Remiel. The guy you’re looking for. I can’t really put the time in to do the rest of your research for you, but if you’re ballsy enough to go talk to Baylor, little short angel with a temper? He’ll- mmm. He’ll probably know more about Remiel.”

“That’s it?” Sorin demanded. “That’s all you can give me?”

“For one spell? Sure. You can’t figure out what to do after that, come back and we’ll renegotiate. Until then, I have a dead body to deal with. Gotta pick which urn we’re using and all that. Have a great day.”

She shut the door in their faces.

----

It was a quarter past four in the damned morning when Cameron was hauling a half limp Nik through the front door. Parts of Nik’s face were covered in bruises, his lip split and his entire body reeked of alcohol. He ignored Nik’s slurred mumbling and dragged him to the bedroom where he peeled Nik’s clothes off him and ordered him into bed.

Nik grabbed Cameron’s hand before he even made it a step to pick up the clothes from his clean floor. “Don’t leave me too,” he said, face half in his pillow. “Please.”

Cameron sighed through his nose. “Will you finally get some sleep?”

“Will you?”

“I guess,” Cameron said, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to get nearly enough sleep as he should. “You need to let go of my hand first, though.”

Nik made a pleased, drunken purr and let him go, pressing his face deep into his pillow, because of course he did. Cameron cleaned up the clothes from the floor and threw them in a garbage can before coming back to crawl into the bed, despite the stiffness still lingering in his back. Nik already was moving though, halfway just crawling on Cameron.

“Tis cold,” Nik muttered into Cameron’s chest, before instantly just passing out.

Cameron did feel that shiver jolting through his shoulder. He tried ignoring it and just awkwardly pulled blankets around this stupid omega before he got himself sick. It was a while before he let sleep pull himself under, and it was as restless as it usually was, just because he was too worried about biting Nik in his sleep since Nik decided to not move from Cameron’s chest the whole night.

It was well past his usual wake up time when his phone buzzed from the nightstand. He let it ring several times before electing to get out of bed, despite Nik’s instant loud whine. He answered, “What do you want?”

“Sorry it took a couple of days, but, I got everything taken care of. Do you want the ashes?”

“Sober for once?” he asked, too tired to even attempt to be any form of politeness, even about this. “Why would you give me the ashes,” he said, “isn’t your family weird about your bloodlines.”

“Because he loved you, and you made him happy. Besides,” she said, “You’re his alpha.”

“Again,” Cameron said, ignoring that entire sentence. “His bar is so extremely low. I’m sure his family would prefer to have his ashes over me.”

“I talked to Raziel about it and his parents are fucking dead,” Amara said. “She agrees with me.”

He let silence drag out while he thought over her answer. “Fine. Bring them by later.” He could put them near the others. He hung up before she could even answer him and looked over at Nik who was still passed out in the bed. The bruises were clearing up some, thanks to angel blood, but they were fairly prominent against Nik’s golden brown skin. Nik stirred, face curving into the pillows as he pulled the blanket up over his head. “Turn the heat up,” he mumbled.

Cameron rolled his eyes, but notched the temperature up a few degrees before moving to the kitchen. Zareth looked up from the counter, the steaming cup of coffee, suggesting he had been awake for a while. Cameron started breakfast. “Are you going to tell me why you’re still in my fucking house,” he said. “Or are you just planning on moving in here. If you are, I suggest paying rent.”

Zareth didn’t even blink. “I- Mm. It would be stupid of me to suggest that I was worried about you. And Nik. And well, with Lev being gone, I’m assuming neither of you have enough emotional intelligence to understand anything.”

Cameron flicked him a look. “And I suppose you do?”

“Well, certainly more than you,” Zareth said, under his breath, bringing the coffee to his lips.

Cameron chose to ignore him and put a plate of food down in front of him. “Eat or get out.”

Zareth instantly went at his food, wisely using his mouth for something than being an idiot in Cameorn’s house. He had another plate sat out when he heard the loud-mouthed mutt herself barge into his house. “I was already on my way,” she said.

“I know,” Cameron said, turning back to his cooking. He let the sizzling bacon cook for a few more seconds before putting the plate on the counter. “If you’re going to annoy me with your presence, then eat while you do it.”

The blond hybrid holding a casserole behind Amara blinked at him. Amara, however, looked over her shoulder at the hybrid. “No nibbling.”

Cameron rose a brow, but elected to not bother. “Sit down.”

Amara sat the sleek, black and silver urn down on the table while the hybrid awkwardly sat the casserole on the counter. The hybrid instantly sat down next to Amara and bit down on her shoulder hard enough, Cameron could smell the blood. “What is that doing here? Are you expecting anyone in this house to eat that? I do the cooking and you will give us all food poisoning.”

Amara gave him an odd look. “Reneé had made it and if I have to eat pity casseroles, so do you.”

“No,” Cameron said, “I really don’t think I do.”

Under his breath, Zareth said, “It’s a custom for a lost loved one.”

Cameron flicked him an annoyed glance. “Who said I loved him?”

“He was loved,” Amara said. “By other people. Ergo, a lost loved one. Eat the pity casserole, asshole.”

“You eat the pity casserole,” Cameron said. “You don’t have my palate and probably lost any and all taste buds you’ve acquired in the last twenty-one years.”

Amara gave him another look. “We have like ten at home and Reneé made that one especially for you. She wants you to critique it and give her notes.”

“Then she should have given it to me herself,” Cameron replied, moving back to the stove. “If she wanted critiques that badly she should have used a better excuse than her cousin’s death for one.”

“You think I’d let my sister step foot in your house?”

“I think you let her rot out in your car instead,” Cameron said, flatly. “Where my sentries and other demons could very easily eat her. But sure, I’m the threat to your sister.” The same one that had already acquired a room in his house.

The hybrid leaned over. “I told you,” he said, getting up. “I’ll go get Reneé.”

Amara looked so annoyed, watching him leave them alone in the kitchen. “First he makes me ride in the car, then he makes me not leave Reneé behind, and now he wants me to let Reneé in the house.”

“I’d rather have her in this house than you.”

“If you want me gone so bad, then why are you feeding me?”

“Because currently my omega is hungover and passed out in my bed and I’ll just have to make do with the next alcoholic omega who just so happened to walk through my door.”

Zareth choked on his coffee, but didn’t wisely didn’t say a word.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about people finding out about you having emotions,” Amara said, “when no one’s gonna be able to fucking understand them anyway. You are so fucking werid.”

“Pot meet kettle,” Cameron said. “Now eat your fucking food before I force it down your throat.”

“Yes, alpha,” Amara said, with a sickening sweetness that had Cameron tempted to reach for the knife on the counter. But she took a bite from her eggs, just in time for the hybrid and Reneé to come into the room.

“Sit down,” Cameron said. “Eat.”

“Okay,” Reneé said, promptly sitting down at the counter, going to reach for the plate of food waiting for her. The hybrid settled between Amara and Reneé, lightly biting down on Reneé’s shoulder before reaching for his own food.

They had been eating in silence for just a few moments before he heard Nik stagger into the room. Though, he could smell him before he even laid eyes on him. Cameron watched Nik go for the cabinet where there was an unopened bottle of vodka, but got to it before he did. “Sit. Down.”

Nik bared his teeth at him, but Cameron’s cold look had Nik doing as told. He slumped down onto the nearest stool, nearly sliding off onto the floor, but just barely as he dropped his head on his arms. Renee offered a careful, “Good morning, Nik.”

Nik’s only response was to flip her off.

Cameron popped Nik upside the head. “Eat something.”

Nik cut him a bloodshot glare before dropping his head on his arms again. Renee’s amused look was not missed, but Cameron chose to ignore it all the same. Cameron’s teeth latched down on Nik’s shoulder hard enough to make the skin break. Nik instinctively went pliant under Cameron’s fangs, but reached for a piece of toast.

Amara looked at Nik. “You look like shit,” she observed.

Nik drug his head up just enough to give her a half-blank look. “Oh really? Was it that obvious? Here I thought I looked radiant.”

“Grief looks terrible on you.”

Nik kept staring blankly at her before trying to get off the stool, only for Cameron to force him back down. “Drink something and behave.”

Nik growled low in his throat until Cameron latched onto the back of his neck and forced Nik to look up at him. “Do as you’re told,” he said, with enough steel Nik’s eyes cleared a bit. “Now.”

He let go and Nik reached for the mug of coffee Zareth pushed toward him. Nik had it half downed before Cameron was satisfied enough to get his own food and start eating. It was only a few moments of peace before Nik drug his bloodshot eyes back up to Zareth. “And what the fuck are you still doing here?” he asked. “Figure since Lev’s dead you can swoop in and take his spot before it gets cold?”

Zareth blinked blankly at him, trying to process Nik’s barely coherent accusation. “...No? I’m married and I figured you’d both be wrecks and stupid of me to think you’d want some help since neither of you can process shit in this house.”

“Hmph.” Nik seemed to deem that an appropriate answer since he said, “Fine. Then make yourself useful and make me a drink.”

Zareth’s steely pale gold eyes didn’t waver. “I think you’ve had enough, Nik.”

Cameron only took a long drink of his tea, watching Nik deciding to stab at his food. But when Amara snorted, Nik’s head shot up and he gave her a savage look. “What the fuck is so funny?” he snarled. “I’d think you would know something about grief since this is what? The third family member that’s dead? Or is this just you once again being an untouchable bitch not letting anything get to you.”

Cameron cut Amara a warning look, but she just stared Nik right in the eye. “Go fuck yourself,” she said. Renee gave the smallest wounded sound that made Nik look in her direction. There wasn’t any pity on his face, but there was a small morsel of regret, though, barely any at all. “You don’t know anything, Nik.”

“No,” Nik said. “I never know anything, do I? Just a waste of potential who got his boyfriend killed.”

“Okay,” Cameron finally said. “That is enough. Nik- go to bed. I’ll deal with your pity-party bullshit later. Go sleep your idiocy off. Zareth, make sure he doesn’t split his head open on the way back to my room.”

Zareth was already moving, hauling Nik to his unsteady feet and moving him back to the bedroom. Cameron turned his attention to Renee’s silent tears rolling steadily down her face and fought the urge to just walk out with them. “Stop crying.”

Renee mumbled a small, “Sorry,” while wiping her face, but Amara puffed up like the annoying bird she was. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Lev practically raised us. I didn’t ask for us to stay here, you insisted on feeding us.”

“Amara, it’s fine,” Renee said, quietly.

“I know he did,” Cameron said, bluntly. “I do not have time to coddle your sister when I am trying to keep Nik from shredding himself to pieces. That is your job. So either do it, or get out.”

He was trying to keep as close to his schedule as he could, to keep it as normal as he could so his brain didn’t splinter again, but nothing around him was cooperating with him, so Cameron was going to have to at least control this before he lost his temper.

Amara stood abruptly enough, he heard her muttering about his help while promptly storming out the door. Renee stood up slower, saying, “Thank you for breakfast. I hope you like the casserole. I worked hard on it.” Cameron gave a terse nod, watching her follow after Amara. The hybrid looked to his half empty plate mournfully before grabbing a piece of bacon and trotting after them.

Cameron gave a long, slow sigh before going back to the bedroom to see Zareth leaning against the doorway with his arms folded awkwardly, staring at Nik sobbing into the bedding. “This wasn’t a coincidence,” Zareth said, under his breath. When Cameron didn’t say anything, Zareth flicked him a side glace. “He needs you, you know. You are his alpha, whether you want to admit it or not. Take responsibility for Nik before he wastes into nothing.”

Cameron debated on cutting out Zareth’s tongue for talking to him like that, or just at all, but just kept looking at Nik. “I am taking care of him.”

“No,” Zareth said. “Take care of him. He needs you, he doesn’t need a parent, he needs to know that you are there, even if you are shit at literally the entire spectrum of emotion.”

“Careful,” Cameron said, in a bored tone.

It was the first and only warning Zareth was going to get for his unsolicited insolence. Zareth sighed softly before wisely taking his out. Cameorn kept watching Nik for a few more seconds before sliding into the room. Cameron wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t like he could just fix everything and force it all back into how he had it, and that fact alone was grating on his mind.

He ended up sitting on the bed, not quite knowing what he was doing. Nik was still clutching at the bed, sobbing hoarsely. Cameron was hesitant, but leaned close to Nik, awkwardly running his fingers in Nik’s blue and black hair, making a note to check that the windows were closed. Nik’s cries lessened some, before he turned to look up at Cameron, almost confused. “What are you doing?” he rasped.

Fuck if I know, Cameron thought, bitterly.

“Are you done crying?” Cameron asked.

Nik sniffled, but pressed his face back into the bedding momentarily before, “You are shit at literally anything that doesn’t involve your dick.”

“I can cook,” Cameron deadpanned.

When Nik didn’t say anything, Cameron kept combing his fingers in Nik’s hair, watching Nik finally quiet down enough that he started falling asleep, purring quietly. After a few more minutes, Cameron made himself get up and go to his office. He stopped at the closest sentry, eyes narrowed as he stared them down for long enough, their eyes dropped. “If he wakes up,” he finally said, “come get me.”

When they nodded, Cameron went to do the paperwork Zareth had left for him on the desk. It was about thirty minutes of waiting before someone knocked anxiously at the doors. When Cameron ordered them inside, it was a sentry, looking as anxious as that knock was. “We found a traitor- we thought you should know. He’s the one who told… him- about you and your angel. We didn’t want you to worry about our loyalties.”

“In case I decided to kill the lot of you?” Cameron asked, dryly.

“Yes.”

“It has crossed my mind,” he said, mildly, standing. “Take me to them. And tell me why, exactly, the rest of you decided to wait until now to hand them over.”

tagging: @idreamonpaper @incandescent-creativity @livvywrites @solangelo3088 @halstudies @alittleyellowdinosaur

[katlyn1948]

On My Way: For the Gendrya Gift Exchange

@thereluctantbadger this is for you! I enjoyed doing this for the @gendrya-gift-exchange

I hope you enjoy!! 

Also I wanted to add, I left the story quite open ended, so don’t hate me if you don’t like open ended stories!!! 

On My Way

Katlyn1948

Summary:

Based off of the prompt: Gendry is trying to get to the hospital before Arya gives birth.

Notes:

For TheReluctantBadger.

So...this is my submission for Gendrya Gift Exchange. I am not going to lie, I had a hard time with this prompt and this story is REALLY dialogue heavy. I had a lot of different ideas of what I wanted to do, but they all just seemed meh. I finally came up with this alternating POV's idea and what Arya and Gendry are doing individually. I didn't have time to edit this as well, I've been really busy at work (it is always like this at the end of the year) and have hardly any time to write any of my WIPs. The deadline for this was tomorrow and I wanted to post it today because I know I wouldn't have time to do it tomorrow. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!!

Work Text:

ARYA

Arya was uncomfortable.

She was more than that; she was miserable.

It was two weeks well past her due date and she was sure that her child would never come into the world. Why she even agreed to have a child was beside her. Sure, Gendry had begged and pleaded and gave her the cutest, stupidest puppy dog eyes known to man. However, the fact that she actually caved still astounded her. She never considered herself the motherly type, yet as her pregnancy progressed, she found herself falling in love with the being growing inside her.

She was ready, that she was sure of; she just needed to get it out of her womb.

Restless nights began the beginning of her third trimester and eventually kicking Gendry out of the bed was the only sure way she could get a moderate good night’s rest, but when the end of her pregnancy (or so she thought) approached, sleep was the last thing she could get. Her swollen stomach and the constant somersaults her baby insisted on doing kept her up most of the night. Not even the kind presence of her husband could soothe her insomnia.

“Maybe we should walk the neighborhood. I heard it could help induce labor.” Gendry stated three days after her due date.

Arya was sitting on the couch opposite him, fiddling with crochet needles and yarn. She taken up the hobby the moment her OBGYN put her on strict bed rest because of her petite frame and sheer size of her over grown belly. She wanted to make a simple hat of the baby, but it was turning more into a sock, despite her constant efforts.

“Gendry, I’m fine. The doctor said that these things are normal. I’m sure the baby will come in a few days’ time.” She said as she struggled with the current row of stiches.

Gendry snorted, “Watch it come so unexpectedly, not even you nor I will be prepared.”

Arya’s eyes snapped up to meet his, a very distinctive glare pooling from her irises, “Don’t you dare jinx me. I have been prepared since the doctor put me on bed rest. I am ready for this baby, are you?”

“Of course I am! I just finished setting up the crib and the walls of the nursery are pained that soft pale yellow you wanted.” Gendry pretended to be insulted by Arya’s words, gasping with feigned innocence.

Arya scoffed, “It’s more to it than that.”

She shook her head at him, returning her attention to the pile of yarn sitting on her lap. It really was futile effort, for she was never one for such crafts. She knew how to sew a button on shirt of course, but crocheting was an entirely different feat.

Arya struggled with the last few stiches before finally throwing the needles across the living room with a resounding clank.

“Is everything alright?” Gendry asked as he moved by her side.

“No.” Arya whimpered. “I really want this baby out of me.”

Gendry sighed, pulling Arya into his arms so she could rest on his chest. “The baby will come and she will be perfect just like her mother.”

“She?”

“I feel like it’s a girl, don’t you?”

Arya groaned, “I don’t know, maybe it should make its way into the world so I can find out!”

She poked at her belly, trying to get a ruse out of the babe within her. A few moments passed before a noticeable kick protruded, causing Arya to grunt in discomfort.

“I don’t think she liked that.” Gendry teased.

Arya turned in his arms, punching his gut a little more forcefully than she intended, “Shut up, stupid.”

GENDRY

He had fallen asleep on the couch with Arya nestled in his arms.

She has been so uncomfortable as of late, that he tried to do anything he could to help with her ever growing stomach, even if it meant giving up his bed.

The first time he was kicked out of their room, he was sure that he had done something stupid. There were plenty of times where Gendry would do something without thinking, causing Arya to completely ghost him, even if he was two feet away.

But that night he knew that there was nothing that he had done that day that could have caused her to be upset with him, so instead of marching off to the couch without question, he huffed and barged into their room, with the lights on full blast.

“What in the bloody seven hells is wrong with you!” She barked from their bed.

“Why are you kicking me out of our bed. I know I didn’t do anything.” Gendry countered, his lips pursing in annoyance.

He could hear Arya’s muffled groan from under her pillow as she threw their duvet off her body, “I know you didn’t do anything, you stupid bull! I kicked you out because you’re uncomfortable.”

Gendry looked at with confusion, “I’m…uncomfortable?”

“Yes! With this growing baby and your sheer size, I cannot find a comfortable position to sleep in, so I kicked you out. Surely, you don’t want your pregnant wife sleeping on the couch.” She questioned.

Gendry’s cheeks went red, “No?”

“Good answer. Now, if you please, shut of the damn light and let me sleep!” Before Gendry could understand what was going on, a white pillow came flying towards his face. He dodged it easily but complied with his wife’s wishes and made himself comfortable on the couch.

Three months had gone by and he was still confided to the couch, unable to get a decent rest since. He didn’t complain, but his back sure was screaming from the lack of a proper bed. He knew how miserable Arya had been, considering she was nearing two weeks past her due date, and anything he could to help appease her uncomfortableness, he would gladly do.

This night, however, she had fallen asleep right with him, and he was sure that this was the first night she truly had a good rest since kicking him out of their room.

He groaned a bit as he shifted from under her, being mindful not wake her. He reached to the couch side table and clicked his phone, watching as the screen illuminated to read the time. It was nearing 7 am and he was surprised that he already had four missed calls and six text messages from Clegane.

“Shit!” he whispered as he read one of the messages sent.

Two of their mechanics had rang sick and the shop was behind on appointments.

Although Gendry was out for the rest of year, considering Arya was about to pop, he knew that Clegane would need the extra hands. He may have been co-owner, but he still had a responsibility to their clients. So, with a defeated sigh, he gently shook Arya to wake her from her slumber.

“Arya, love, I need to get up.”

He watched as she crinkled her face in annoyance, letting a yawn escape her lips, “Why? You don’t have to go to work.”

“But I do.”

That got her attention. She sprang up from his chest and gave him a glare.

“Don’t look at me like that. Clegane called and two of our mechanics rang sick, I have to go.” He countered.

“Gendry, Sandor can call any of your other mechanics; let one of them come in.”

Gendry shook his head, “I can’t do that. Lem is out on holiday; I doubt he is even in the country, and Anguy his with Beric on a supply run. It will only be for a few hours and I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone.”

“It’s three days before Christmas, Gen. It is one of the busiest days of the year for travel. Everyone is trying to get their car maintenance before they leave on gods know what kind of road trip. Imagine the traffic out there now; you won’t be home until late.”

“Isn’t Sansa supposed to stop by today and have tea? Spend some time with her, I’m sure there is lots you two need to catch up on.” He smiled.

“I’m not some gossiping house wife, but it would be nice to spend time with her.” She said with a defeated sigh.

Gendry smiled, “Great! Now I have to get ready.” He placed a quick kiss on her lips before shuffling out from under her.

“You tell Sandor that if you’re not home by seven, I’ll castrate him!” Gendry heard her yell as he ran off into their bedroom.

He chuckled under his breath before yelling back, “As you wish, milady.”

ARYA

It was nearing 10 AM and Arya was bored out of her mind.

Gendry had left her to do the right thing and Sansa was 45 minutes late due to the ridiculous amounts of traffic that had transpired, leaving Arya alone and miserable. She had given up on her crochet hat, unable to take the painstakingly precision it required to make such a thing. She opted out on buying a light-yellow knitted hat on Amazon three minutes after she threw the yarn and crocheting needles in the garbage bin.

There were so many Nintendo Switch games she could play and the stupid computer players on Super Smash Bros. were not taking it easy on her.

Being bed rest, or as she liked to call it, ‘House Arrest’, was becoming more an issue for Arya than she thought it would be.

For three months straight she had to ‘take it easy’ and ‘be mindful’ so that she didn’t put her baby or herself as risk. Arya understood that she had to be careful, but she wasn’t expecting bed rest to be so restraining. Sure, she could get up and walk about her house or even make her way to the back yard for some fresh air, but anything else seemed like a big no-no.

Her OB-GYN gave her the go ahead to do some light exercises, but not at the gym and certainly nothing that she used to do before getting pregnant.

It was suffocating, and she was beginning to hate being pregnant.

She wanted her freedom, or a least a trip to the grocery store without having to get permission. She couldn’t wait for the baby to be here and in her arms, for at least she would be able to get out of her house when it did finally arrive, even if it is a trip to the hospital.

She grumbled in frustration for a few more minutes before her doorbell rang, indicating that Sansa had finally made it through the traffic.

Arya struggled a bit to lift herself from the couch, huffing for a breath as she finally got her bearings. She waddled over to the door and swiftly pulled it open, immediately pulling her sister into an awkward hug.

“Oh, look at you! You’re so-”

“If you say big, I will punch you.” She deadpanned.

“Radiating. You’re so radiating.” Sansa quickly recovered.

Arya stepped aside from the entryway and allowed her sister to enter the house.

“So, where is Gendry?” Sansa said as she shrugged off her coat and draped it across a dining chair.

“At work. Apparently two of his mechanics rang sick and he had to go and cover the shift.”

“But he is supposed to be out until the new year. What was Sandor thinking?”

Arya shrugged, “I tried to convince him to stay, but you know how Gendry is. He wouldn’t be able to leave the shop like that.”

“He is such a good man; you really did get lucky with him.” Sansa sighed.

“I did, didn’t I?” Arya chuckled.

The two sisters enjoyed the comfortable silence as Arya made her way into the kitchen, pouring two mugs of hot tea. She shuffled her way back to the dining table and gently placed the mug on the table for Sansa to grab.

“So, how have you been?” Sansa asked as she took a sip of her tea.

“Tired, irritable, cranky…I mean the list goes on.”

“Well, you look like you’re about to pop.”

Arya scoffed, “I wish! The baby is nearly two weeks late and it won’t stop kicking me to death!”

Sansa’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head when she hears her sister’s words, “Two weeks! Arya, have you told your doctor?”

“Of course, I have!”

“And?”

“They will induce on Christmas Eve, if the baby doesn’t come before then.” She admitted.

Sansa sighed, “Okay, does Gendry know? And that is just in two days, It won’t be long until you have your baby in your arms.”

Arya groaned in frustration, “No, he doesn’t know and that’s not the point, Sansa.”

“Then what is it?”

Arya took a breath in order to gather her bearings, “I don’t want to be induced. I want this baby to come when it’s ready, not because some doctor had to make it so. I want to do this the right way.”

Sansa looked at her sister. For the first time in her life, she saw Arya vulnerable and afraid and all she could do was sweep her little sister in her arms and hug her.

“It will be alright. You have two days, right. That gives this baby plenty of time to come on its own volition.”

Arya embraced her sister tightly and was thankful for her visit.

She hadn’t seen her Sansa since last Christmas, and she was sorely missing sister constant advice. They may not have gotten along when they were younger, but now as adults she was grateful for Sansa.

“I hope you’re right.” Arya whispered as they pulled away from their hug.

She hadn’t realized that Sansa’s tea mug was sitting on the edge of the table when she knocked it over with her elbow, causing it to shatter on the hardwood floor.

“Shit!” She cursed as she bent down to pick up the mess.

Arya was no more than halfway over when she felt an immediate pressure in lower back, along with the steady stream of liquid running down her legs. She gasped and pulled herself straight before placing a hand over her protruding stomach.

“What is it?” Sansa asked as she rose from her dining chair to aid her sister.

“I think…I think my water just broke.”

GENDRY

The normal fifteen-minute drive it took to get from his house to the shop turned into a 45-minute obstacle from hell. To Gendry, it seemed as if everyone on the face of the planet was trying to get out of King’s Landing, making it near impossible to get to the shop any sooner.

He could already hear Clegane’s mouth and would have to brace himself for a whole slew of profanities that was sure to come his way as soon as he entered the shop.

Why he went into business with the famed boxer, Sandon ‘The Hound’ Clegane, was beyond Gendry. He knew he had a soft spot for Arya, considering he trained her for nearly decade in competitive boxing, but Gendry never believed that he would agree to open a mechanic shop with him.

It was a desperate move on Gendry’s end, that turned out to be rewarding. Sure, he had to suffer constant verbal abuse from the man, but it could have been worse, or at least that’s what Gendry tells himself.

For three and half years they’ve been in business. One would think that after spending all that time with one another, they would grow to become friends, but that was far from what happened. If anything, their constant bickering has only gotten worse, making for interesting work days.

Gendry rounded the corner, seeing his shop come into view.

It was modest; no where near some of the other mechanic shops that were around King’ Landing, but it had a welcoming feel that invited all types of people from around the area. In the short time they’ve been open, the shop has grown quite the clientele. Everything from high politicians to working class citizens; they all came for the services that Gendry and Clegane had to offer.

“Gendry? What are you doing here?” A familiar voice stopped him on the way to the back of the shop.

He turned as was greeted by the same blue eyes that he possessed. His sister, Mya, was seated at the receptionist desk with a large cup of coffee and a half-eaten cheese Danish. She looked exhausted and hadn’t expected her brother to walk in.

“Clegane called me in, considering we are two men down.” He said with a shrug.

“Fucking Clegane! I told him not to call you. He knows that Arya can pop at any moment, besides you are on holiday for another three weeks!” She scolded him.

Gendry rose his hands in defense, “Hey, don’t take it out on me, tell the other boss man.”

“I’m going to kill him.” She huffed.

Gendry chuckled before realizing that she shouldn’t have been there.

“Wait, what are you doing here? Don’t you have today off? Where is Bella?” He threw questions at her.

Mya sighed, “Bella had an audition today, so she asked me to cover her shift. She should be here in a couple of minutes to relieve me. I must get back home to the girls.”

“How long have you been here?” He asked as he wandered over to the desk, placing his elbows on the desk.

“Since one in the morning. You know, you should really re-consider this whole 24-hour thing.” She said with a yawn.

“And who is with the girls?”

“Edric.”

Gendry scoffed, “You left Edric alone with children? I’d say you have a better chance at keeping them alive here at the shop.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will be hiding away in a corner when I get home.” She chuckled.

Gendry smiled before turning back to head to the back of the shop.

“Oh wait! Before I forget…Edric told me that father wants to spend Christmas with us. I really don’t want to and I’m sure you and Arya want to take it slow, with the baby and everything.”

“Actually, the Starks are coming for Christmas, so Arya and I will be spending the holiday with them.”

“In your tiny house?”

“Gods no! The Starks have a manor here in King’s Landing, we will be there. You’re welcome to join. I’m sure the girls would love it and Robb’s boys are going to be there.”  He admitted.

Mya nodded, “I think I’ll take you up on that offer. The girls loved spending time with them at Sansa’s wedding last summer. They will be glad to see them again.”

“Good then it’s settled. Now, I have to hurry to the back before Clegane rips my head off.”

Mya chuckled and waved her brother off, “Go.”

Gendry smiled and jogged off towards the back, preparing himself for the worst.

He managed to slip into the break room without Clegane seeing him and pulled on his work overalls. Every inch of the grey-blue suit was covered in grease spots. There was a whole in the front left breast area and the seem of one of his sleeves was coming apart. The overalls had been with since his first days as a mechanic and Mott’s and he wasn’t willing to part with them just yet. The zipper still worked, and for the most part, it was in one piece. Clegane had called is a piece of shit, and Gendry couldn’t argue with his sentiments, but they were nostalgic for Gendry and so long as they still did their job, the overalls were staying on his body.

He pulled on his steel-toe work boots (he learned from his past mistakes) and laced them tight to keep them in place. Slamming the locker closed, he made his way to the work floor where three of his workers were working on two different cars.

“Oi! If it doesn’t need two people, then one you lot get our arse working on that back car.” He yelled, pointing to the mini van across the shop floor.

One of the newer mechanics, Oliver, scurried over to the minivan and began assessing what needed to be done.

“Well its about fucking time you showed up!” Clegane staggered over to Gendry with a very distinguished glare.

“Sorry, Clegane, the traffic was horrible.” Gendry tried to reason.

“Cry me a fucking river, Baratheon. We have appointments back up to fucking Winterfell and not enough men to cover it. I’ve already got bitched on by some snooty politician’s wife and a butcher nearly severed my head. I don’t have time for your sob stories. Oh, and turn off that fucking phone of yours, yeah? I don’t need you distracted.”

“But, Clegane, I can’t do that. Arya is-”

“I know the she wolf is about to pop, but if she hasn’t given birth now, she ain’t going to in the next couple of hours. Now, turn it off before I break the fucking thing.” He turned on his heel and stomped off towards the other mechanics on the floor, barking out commands as he did so.

Gendry cursed under his breath, praying to the gods above that nothing happened while he was working.

ARYA

The pressure in her back began to increase as Sansa weaved her way through the horrible traffic that had descended upon King’s Landing. She could feel the throbbing pains hit her every five minutes and she was sure they would never make it to the hospital on time.

She tried to focus on her breathing and not the buzzing world around her, but Sansa’s constant screaming at people who couldn’t even hear her made it near impossible.

“Have you tried calling him again?” Arya asked through gritted teeth. Sansa had been trying to ring Gendry for the last hour, but the call would go to voicemail every time. It was becoming annoying and Arya swore that if Gendry missed the birth of their child, she would string him up by his testicles and never sleep with him again.

“There is no answer-move out of the fucking way!”  She yelled once more.

“Well did you try the shop?”

“The line is busy. Probably all the last-minute people trying to get their cars fixed before the new year.”

Arya groaned as another wave of pain hit. “Uh…try Mya. I think she has a shift today-ahh.”

Sansa nodded and began dialing the number on her phone and placing it to her ear.

“Uh, Mya?...Hi! this is Sansa Stark-yes, Arya’s sister. Are you at the shop?....Oh, well is there a way to reach them?....Well the line is busy…..Arya is in labor….yes, and we’ve tried his cell, but it goes straight to voicemail….he what?!....My sister is going to kill him…..will you?.....that would be great!....see you then, bye!”

“Wha-what did she say?” Arya huffed.

“Well, she’s not at the shop. She left about fifteen minutes ago, but she doesn’t live far and is headed back over there. It seems Sandor made Gendry shut off his phone.”

Arya groaned and she clutched her stomach, “WHAT! I’m going to murder them both! Oh my gods! Are we there yet?!”

Sweat was dripping down her face and the pain was becoming increasingly unbearable. She wasn’t sure how long it would be until the baby finally did come, but she hoped it wasn’t until its father made his appearance.

“We should be there in about two minutes, maybe five.”

Arya grimaced, “For your sake, I hope its two.”

GENDRY

Work came easily for Gendry and he could easily find himself distracted with it. He enjoyed the pastime and found a real comfort in doing what he did. Since he was a teenager, he had been working in shops across King’s Landing, picking up skills from other mechanics along the way.

It wasn’t until he reached Mott’s shop that he realized he could do this for a living.

Mott taught him almost everything he needed to know how to do the trade and when it was time for him to leave and try to make is own way, he took all that knowledge and made it into what his shop is today.

There was something about working with steel and metal and all the intricate little parts of car that intrigued Gendry. It was like a puzzle that he couldn’t wait to piece together.

He was working on a very expensive car with a very expensive engine problem.

Tyrion Lannister had used it for street racing…again and ruined the engine by doing so. It wasn’t an easy fix and it sure wasn’t a fast one, but Gendry new what the problem was and could easily have it done before the end of the day.

He had quoted the play boy for two days work, but if he managed to stay on schedule, then he could be a full day ahead.

He was under the car, so anything going on around him he could hardly hear. He was trying to patch through some wires when he was dragged out from under the car with Sandor Clegane looming over him.

“What the fuck, Clegane! I was working!”

“Not anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

Clegane threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to a person behind him.

Gendry groaned as he lifted himself up, wiping his dirty hands on his overalls. He thought he was about to meet with another client, not his older sister who he last seen just two hours prior.

Her expression looked grim and her face pale. It looked like she had received bad news. Gendry swiftly made his way over to where his stood, gently placing his hands on her shoulders, “Mya, what’s wrong? Are the girls okay?”

Mya nodded, “The girls are fine, but you’re not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Arya is in labor and she nor Sansa have been able to get ahold of you! Why in the seven hells would you turn off your phone!”

“Well Clegane made me-wait, what? Arya is in labor!”

Mya scoffed, “Yes, you daft buffoon! Now come on, we have to go!”

Gendry nodded and scurried after his sister, leaving the shop and Sandon Clegane behind.

ARYA

The steady beep of machines echoed around the hospital room.

As soon as Sansa pulled up to the ER, the nurses were able to get Arya situated into a room, with everything she needed to be settled.

The epidural was less than pleasant, but the effects the medicine was giving was like heaven to Arya.

Sansa had been making phone calls to all the necessary people, letting them know that she was due to give birth at any hour. Of course, she may have been over exaggerating, considering Arya’s OB-GYN put her at seven centimeters dilated.  

“Well, Arya, it’s a good thing you came in when you did. You very well may have had this baby in the car if it wasn’t for your sister’s driving.” Her doctor, Margaery Tyrell, explained.

“I didn’t realize she has such road rage until today.” She laughed.

“Yes, well you were-are in labor.” Sansa countered.

“Let’s hope your husband is able to make it through that unruly traffic.” Dr. Tyrell assured.

Sansa nodded, “Yes, let’s hope.”

Dr. Tyrell gave a small smile before exiting the room, leaving the two sisters.

They had tried to call Gendry four more times since settling in, yet there was still no answer. Arya was beginning to worry and hoped that he would make it. His lack of communication was not comforting, and the last thing Arya needed was the added stress of not knowing where her husband was.

Gendry was never late…for anything, yet he decides that today would be a good day to be.

GENDRY

Gendry was a timid man, for the most part, but now he was keeping true to the nickname Arya had given him. Like a bull, he was forcing his way through the traffic, trying to reach the hospital before his child entered the world. His hand was on the horn more than it was on the steering wheel, and his anger flared anytime someone decided to cut him off.

“Gendry, brother, maybe you should slow down? The last thing you need a speeding ticket.” Mya tried to reason with him, but he was unstoppable.

“Mya, I have to get to the hospital. Arya could be giving birth as we speak!”

“Okay, she’s not. I just texted Sansa, and the doctor puts her at about eight centimeters. I’d say we have an hour or two tops before she ready to push, that is if she is progressing normally. But if she’s progressing faster than normal then…”

“Then what?”

“Then maybe ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Shit!”

ARYA

“Where is he!” Arya exclaimed. She was becoming increasingly paranoid, and it did little to help her current situation.

“I told you he is on his way. Mya said they should be here in ten minutes.” Sansa said calmly from across the hospital room.

“Sansa, I’m not sure I have ten minutes. I am eight centimeters, probably nearing nine. I can feel the pressure and I’m sure I will have to push here soon.” The tears began to stream down her face, and she was sure she looked like a blubbering idiot. This shouldn’t have made her emotional, but between her missing husband and the impending birth of her child, she couldn’t help but let them flow.

“Arya, he will be here, and if not, then I am right by your side.” Sansa crossed the room and bent down to give her sister a hug.

Arya smiled and returned the embrace, hoping that Gendry made his appearance soon.

A ding from Sansa’s phone interrupted their sisterly hug.

Sansa grabbed the phone from the small table and huffed in frustration.

“What? What is it?” Arya asked.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Well, where are you going? Sansa? What’s happening?”

GENDRY

He wasn’t sure how he made it to the hospital in under twenty minutes, but he did. His truck was parked haphazardly and his paces to the front desk were large. Mya was struggling to keep up with him, but he didn’t care. His main goal was to find Arya’s room and be there for his wife and child.

“Excuse me?” He said to the receptionist at the front desk.

She was chatting with several nurses, completely unaware of his presence.

He cleared his throat and said once more, “Excuse me?”

“Yes?” The receptionist asked with a very snooty voice.

“I am looking for Arya Stark’s room number.”

“Name?”

“I just said it was ‘Arya Stark’.” He deadpanned.

The receptionist sighed, “Your name.”

“It’s Gendry Baratheon, I’m her husband.”

“Then why isn’t she under Arya Baratheon?” the receptionist stalled.

“Because she kept her maiden name…look that is besides the point. I need to know what room number she is in. She is about to give birth to our child, and I need to be there.” He said a little frantically.

“Sir, there is no need for hostility. Please be patient while I look her up in my systems.”

Gendry gave a curt laugh, “Hostility? I am not being hostile. If anything, you are the one being hostile! I just need to know my wife’s room number!”

“Sir, please calm down before I call security. Now we have to verify who you say you are, that could take a couple of minutes. So please be pati-”

“Fucking hells!” Gendry yelled as he slammed his fists against the desk.

He grumbled in frustration as he fished his forgotten phone out of his overall pocket. He quickly turned it on and typed frantically on the keyboard, waiting for a reply. A few seconds later and his phone dinged with a response.

“Sir, we need your ID.” The receptionist cooed from the desk.

“Look, I forgot my wallet in the car, but my sister-in-law is coming down and I’ll go up with her.” He assured.

“We cannot allow th-”

“Is there a problem?”

Gendry’s lips curled into a smile as he saw the familiar red flame of hair make her way to the desk.

“Ma’am, please give me a moment.”

“No, you see, this is Gendry Baratheon. Maybe you’ve heard of his father, Robert Baratheon? The famed political power house that nearly became Prime Minster? Or perhaps you’ve heard of my father, Eddard Stark? Councilman of the north? How do you think they would react if I told them that Gendry here had to miss the birth of his child because of silly nonsense?” She smirked.

“I-I, well…”

“Exactly what I thought. Now, please excuse us.”

Gendry smirked and followed Sansa up to the maternity ward, where Arya’s room was now filled with doctors and nurses alike.

“Just in time, Mr. Baratheon. Mrs. Stark here is about ready to push.” Dr. Tyrell smiled.

Gendry smiled and pushed his way through the nurses in order to get in Arya’s side.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it.” She huffed.

“And miss this? You’re crazy.” He gave her a small kiss and prepared to meet his child.

[xmagicxshopx]

😈 Secret Admirer 😈 Pt 1

Genre: fantasy adventure, romance, angst Rating: PG-13 Warnings: mild violence, mild language, angst Pairing: Jungkook x reader Notes: demon!jungkook au. Private Investigator Jungkook. Not idol!jungkook. Single quote marks ‘ ‘ are for thoughts and double “ “ are for talking. Additional Notes: Okay so I lied. I’m gonna try to break this up into two parts XD I have not proof read this so be warned!

Summary: All you’ve ever known is struggle. You fight to survive every day and you’re grateful for the little things. But one night, when you make a wish at 11:11pm on the 11th day of the 11th month…….your whole world gets turned upside down.

Pepero Day. Such a beautiful day. Love and kindness everywhere. It really did warm your heart. But for you, it was just another day. Couples were wandering the streets, clinging to each other and living their best lives while you yourself was stuck in the same old rut.

It wasn’t all bad, though. You at least had clothing on your back and a roof over your head. That was more than some people had. The harsh reality was that if you didn’t get more hours, you could very easily lose that roof. You tried not to let that thought linger too long. Life was already hard enough.

Life was hard. You barely made enough money to stay alive. Any clothing you possessed came from shelters. You didn’t own a phone or a car so you mostly either walked to work or used as little money as possible for a bus ride. Most times you had enough money left over to buy some cheap noodle cups but there were those few occasions where you ended up going to local food pantries and trying to cut some kind of deal for food.

You couldn’t remember how you wound up in this kind of predicament. Struggling was all you had ever known. Your family had been poor while you were growing up and both your parents had passed away due to illness that they didn’t have the insurance to cure. No financial stability meant college was out of the question so you felt no choice but to take on as many jobs as you possibly could.

The idea of buying a box of pepero sticks was swimming in your mind but the fighter in you told you it wasn’t a good item to spend your money on. You needed that money for things like rent and electric. Pepero sticks weren’t going to be of any use to you in the dark. So you quickly tossed the idea aside and resumed your journey home.

It was night time and incredibly cold. You had just finished one of your cleaning jobs and was more than ready to head home and maybe get a couple hours nap in before your neck job. Your night job was being a janitor for the local art museum. Naturally, you would always come home smelling like bleach and other cleaning chemicals. It was terrible for your lungs and skin but money was money, right?

The next time you stop at the shelter, you needed to see if they had any coats that perhaps you could purchase. Granted, the staff had become quite familiar with you and would often give you clothing free of charge and you’d take anything, no matter the size or condition it was in. Just like money was money, clothing was clothing. You weren’t exactly in a position to be picky, after all. Hugging yourself to try and warm up even just a little, you kept walking only to hear something to your left.

“Well hello there, sweet thing. You look cold.”

Oh boy.

If you weren’t already cold before, you definitely were now; chilled with fear. Your breathing became uneven and the puffs of clouds coming from your lips said as much. A bulky looking man came from the shadows of an alley that you just happened to be walking past. Great. Just great. However, you put on your best smile and nodded a little.

“Yeah. It’s pretty chilly out. Well, I’ll just be going now---”

“I don’t think so, sweet thing.”

Oh no.

With a scream, you suddenly felt yourself being jerked forward and being reeled in by those strong, bulky arms. This guy was way too strong for you to ward off. Hell, you were almost skin and bones as it was. You could only pray in your mind as he started to drag you down the alley back into the shadows from which he came.

‘No! Please! God, help me! Please! Send someone! Anyone! I’m not ready to die! Not like this!’

Prowling the night life like a black cat, Jungkook made his nightly rounds looking for any kind of new work. Being a private investigator didn’t make him nearly as much money has he would like but he was still able to live comfortably. That was mostly due to his......other job. Walking along the rooftops and jumping from one to the other with grace, a faint scream reached his sensitive ears.

Turning his head in the direction the sound came from, he could clearly see with his bright, demon red eyes the sight below. A man three times the size of the poor female cowering beneath him with her trapped between his two arms. Most times, Jungkook would just shrug and move on. Not his business. But there was something about this girl.......about you.......It was like an itch that he needed to scratch.

And so he did.

Jumping from the rooftop and landing with the same amount of grace as before, he blinked and suddenly reappeared behind the overgrown male. Jungkook was no runt, far from it, really. But this dude was huge. Still, Jungkook’s strength was greater. Grabbing the male from behind, the younger was able to easily lift him off you and flung him to the side only for the bulky body to land in an open dumpster.

You should have ran. The moment you were out from under the male’s arms, you should have made a beeline for the streets and out of the dark depths of the alley. However, you were too frozen with fear. Why? Because your rescuer looked twice as deadly as your captor. Dear lord, maybe you were meant to die in this alley.

“P-Pl-P-Please. I d-don’t ha-av-have anything-ing.”

Despite only being able to see from his nose up, you could tell the hooded figure was a male. He was dressed in almost all black. Save for the white graphic printed on his mask. He appeared to be dressed in a black hoodie with black skinny jeans to match. His hood was up but it appeared that his hair was just as dark. Those eyes.......they weren’t black. They were a bright ruby red.

You looked absolutely pathetic and it intrigued him. His first thought was to steal your soul and trade it for money. Hence his other job. Very few people knew, but Jungkook was a demon. A demon who’s job was to swipe souls and send them to his boss in exchange for money to live here on Earth so that he may continue his work.

But you.....there was just something about you. Something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. There were bags under your eyes and your face looked sunken in; making your wide eyes full of fear pop out even more. The gauntness in your face made you appear a bit bug eyed. Your teeth were a mess and he could tell you rarely took care of them. Your clothing appeared to be three sizes too big for you; practically hanging off of you.

Without a word, he swiped your purse from your shaking hands and he watched you beg; begging for him to give it back. Good lord you really were pitiful. Paying you no mind, he tugged something out of his back pants pocket, a wallet. Fishing around inside the folds, he found a bit of cash and transferred it from his wallet, into your purse. After tucking the thing away back in his pocket and tossing you your purse, he crouched down and spoke softly but in a deem and commanding voice,

“Run along home now, little one. It’s dangerous out here.”

As if in a trance, you did exactly as you were told and ran. You ran as fast as your poor legs could carry you. So much for that nap you were going to take. There was no way in Hades you were going to get to sleep now. Not when all you could see in your mind’s eyes was.......bright, ruby red eyes.

Meanwhile, Jungkook still got a soul. A soul fitting for his boss. The bulky male from the dumpster wouldn’t be assaulting anyone anytime soon. With his job done and payment received, the young male left the alley as if nothing had ever happened; resuming his nightly patrol of the city streets.

Freezing. You were absolutely freezing. Your shoes that were nearly falling apart didn’t help matters and your clothing was so baggy that air was easily flowing up under your sweatshirt and up through the sleeves.

But you weren’t going to complain because the shelter was kind enough to give these clothes to you and it was the only size they had. You were grateful for what little you had because you could be stuck with nothing at all. At least you had a roof over your head and clothing on your back. Said roof leaks but still. You were grateful.

Now you found yourself waiting in line in a cheap convenience store to buy even cheaper coffee. Warmth and caffeine. Those were the two things you needed most right now. If the heavy bags under your eyes were anything to go by, it was more than obvious that you got little to no sleep or rest. With all the side jobs you worked, sleep wasn’t much of an option most of the time.

Not only was it clear that you got little sleep, but it was also more than evident that you were malnourished. Your collarbones stuck out like sore thumbs as the collar of your sweatshirt hung low from the large size on your skinny body. Honestly you probably looked homeless.

Underneath all that garbage, you were a good person. A really good person. You paid your bills and your rent on time every month. A smile was always on your face despite your heavy misfortune. Your soul was pure despite the horrible hand the world had dealt you.

Dark eyes watched you from down one of the aisles full of convenient snacks. A young man wearing a ball cap. He appeared to be investigating a bag of chips but really his eyes were on you and your sad, pitiful form. He could see the money in your hand and was pleased to see you using it for it was he himself who had handed it to you just last night.

Lucky for Jungkook, he didn’t have any current cases to work on. This gave him all the time in the world to watch you. Why? Because you fascinated him beyond comprehension. You weren’t like the other mortals here in town. No. You were special.

You were going to be his next big case.

Then you were walking out the door with cheap coffee in hand. Cursing himself for getting distracted, he quickly tossed the chips back in their place and made a dash for the door. Walking back out onto the streets, he tried to find you. Tried to sniff you out; quite literally. You had smelled like you bathed in bleach and not everyone smelled like that. Getting a whiff of cleaning chemicals, he was able to spot your pity poor form just up ahead to his right.

You were much easier to spot now that he knew where to look. Everyone else was sporting shiny, healthy hair while yours looked like colored straw. It was.....sad? Was that this feeling that was making his chest feel tight? Nah. Couldn’t be. Jungkook the demon didn’t know how to feel sad. It wasn’t in his vocabulary. Nah. He just really really pitied you was all. That’s all it was.......Right?

Regardless, he followed. With the help of his colored contacts, the male blended in just fine among all the mortals of the city. Yep. He was just another citizen walking the streets of the early morning heading to work. Dark eyes watched as you sipped from your coffee and hugged yourself tighter. You needed a coat, for goodness sake. Did you seriously not own one???

After walking for what felt like hours but was really only about 20 minutes, Jungkook watched you approach what appeared to be a diner of sorts. Hmmm. Perhaps you bused tables there? The demon stood there on the corner debating on whether or not he should step inside. On one hand, he might get lucky and you’d be his waitress. On the other hand, he’d risk you recognizing him by either the upper half of his face or by his voice.

Softly cursing under his breath, he decided to wait it out. It wasn’t like he had anything else better to do. As much as he wanted to venture in and take a look around to see what exactly you were doing there, he didn’t want to risk getting caught. So many things could go wrong there. So many things. Besides, maybe you were just grabbing a bite to eat? But he highly doubted it.

With a heavy sigh, you made your way to the back of the diner where all the employees were kept hidden by a swinging door and put on your apron. A dishwasher, that’s what you were. Due to your hands already being a mess as a janitor, you tried to salvage what skin you had left and put on some thick, long rubber gloves and dove right in. It would appear whoever had been in charge of closing last night.....conveniently forgot to do the dishes.

Alas, it was job security and that’s how you were going to look at it. Secured job equaled secure money in your mind. With that positive thinking in mind, you felt your lips take on the form of a small smile and began cleaning. Life was hard but it was also okay.

While you worked, you couldn’t help but think of the man with the bright red eyes from the night before. Who was he? What was he? Perhaps he was just a guy who had a thing for colored contacts? But they seemed awfully bright. Very vivid, even. His voice. Even just thinking about it had you shiver a bit. It had been so deep and....commanding. And yet....Soothing. Did that make sense?

“I need two plates and two bowls A-SAP!”

During his job as a private investigator, Jungkook had lived his fair share of steak outs. But this was nuts. After a couple of hours, it was clear that you definitely hadn’t gone into the diner seeking food. Any time he’d pass by the windows to see if you were serving tables, you were no where in sight. In fact, there was a moment where he wondered if maybe you had slipped through his fingers and he toyed with the idea of trying to follow your scent.

Then, around lunch time, you came out. Ugh. Finally! Staying out of sight and blending in with the crowd, he watched you walk back towards the convenience store you had visited earlier that morning to grab your coffee. Hmm. How could a mere mortal pique his interest like this? Part of him felt silly, honestly. As if he were a dog looking for a new master. Let’s get one thing straight......The only master around here was Jeon Jungkook.

Following you back into the convenience store, he watched you walk down one of the aisles till you stopped at the section containing cupped noodles. The cheapest food in this city and probably just as unhealthy. Seriously, with how thin you looked, how were you even still alive at this point??? Jungkook took to busying himself in the next aisle over but made sure to keep your scent within his reach.

Turns out you bought a bowl of noodles and a bottle of water and was already back at the register. He once again noticed you using some of the money he had given to you last night. You were a strange girl......That’s for sure. Strange and yet extremely interesting. A force that reeled him in. Hook, line, and sinker. Perhaps he was more of a fish than a dog.

You waited in line patiently till it was your turn and smiled politely at the cashier. Handing them your items for purchase, you were a little less stressed when you handed over the funds necessary for payment. Red eyes popped in your head again and you couldn’t help wondering if you’d ever meet again. A menacing figure but expressed kindness through his actions. It made no sense to you.

Walking out of the convenience store, you started making your way towards your next job. The plan was to head straight for the break room so that you could eat your lunch and begin work. You had roughly an hour to get there and eat before your shift started. Hopefully you could make it there on foot.

Jungkook followed you like a shadow as he watched you leave the store once more. Good lord did you ever slow down? How were you this fast when you looked like a breeze could blow you away? His expression was hard as he thought about little things like this. But the bigger question was......Why did he care? You were just a silly little mortal who’s soul he could snatch up any time he wanted.

“Little human.....what are you doing to me?”

Thankfully you didn’t have to spend money on a bus ride to your next job and you still had just enough time to gulp down your lunch. Of course it probably wasn’t a good idea to inhale your food like that but time was short and you needed every minute of work you could get. Getting fired for tardiness wasn’t an option for you.

Your next job appeared to be at a retail store for women’s clothing. The over pricey kind. Jungkook walked in and looked around. Thankfully he could always use the excuse that he was buying a gift for his non-existent sister or something. Of course you were nowhere to be found. That is.....till he could catch a whiff of your scent. That familiar smell of cleaning chemicals. Gosh didn’t you ever get a headache from that junk?

He could tell you were somewhere in the back and his eyes kept darting towards the door that surely would lead him to you. However, how was he going to sneak in there without the girls at the front register noticing? Speaking of......he couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

“She always comes in smelling like a janitor’s closet. How did she even get hired?”

“Girl, I don’t know but it gives me a headache every time I have to walk by her. I don’t know how she stands it. And honestly it’s just rude. Does she even shower?”

“Probably not. Have you seen her? She looks ugly as hell. Good thing she stays in the back. We can’t have customers complaining about the smell and the ugliness.”

For some reason, this set the boy off. His normal looking teeth turning razor sharp and grinding against each other. A soft growl rumbled in the back of his throat. Such foolish mortals. If it wasn’t for the cameras and a few customers already roaming the racks of expensive cloth, Jungkook would have sold their souls instantly without batting an eye.

Eyeing the door once more, he decided to work a little magic. Black magic. He just needed enough time to put on a fake employee getup and walk through the door. With his eyes on the various security cameras, he made a quick move and everything happened like clockwork. The cameras temporarily stopped working and he froze everyone in the room.

Quickly changing his attire to one of a young man working in a retail store, he blended in perfectly with his fitted t-shirt and skinny ripped jeans. He had to ditch the ball cap but it was a small price to pay. Making sure he had his colored contacts in, Jungkook quickly approached the door and with a simple wave of his hand, the cameras started working again and everyone was unfrozen. Simple as that.

You were currently struggling to carry a particularly heavy box full of denim jeans when you could have sworn you heard the door open. Paying it no mind, you continued to carry the box to it’s rightful destination but once it was out of your hands, you fell to the floor panting for air. Perhaps you shouldn’t have eaten that bowl of noodles so fast. You felt like you were gonna get sick.

Jungkook did what he did best and hid in the shadows as he watched you. For a split second, he though you were going to pass out. Why did that thought bother him so much? He told himself it was simply because he wanted to know more about you and couldn’t afford you losing consciousness but he had a feeling it was something else entirely.

And then you really did pass out.

“Shit----”

Springing into action, he quickly crouched down in front of you and turned you over onto your back as you had slumped over onto your side. You looked dead, honestly. His hand finding your wrist, he searched for a pulse. It was there but it could have been stronger. A lot stronger. Looking around while still feeling your pulse, he noticed what task you had been given. There was no way you could carry these boxes with what little energy and strength you possessed.

“Hey---Come on now. Time to wake up. Come on. Open your eyes.”

The demon was starting to get genuinely nervous when you didn’t stir and he couldn’t help but notice how ragged your breathing had become. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. This wasn’t good. He still had so much he wanted to learn about you. He didn’t even know where you lived yet.

And then......a soft moan of pain graced his ears and he couldn’t have been happier.

You were alive.

“Hey----Easy now. Just relax.”

There was a voice. A male’s voice. It sounded oddly familiar but you didn’t know why. Your head was pounding and you felt like you could puke. It even hurt for your eyebrows to knit together. With your sore eyes still closed, you felt yourself being lifted up into a semi sitting position only to feel something circular and plastic being pressed against your slightly parted lips. With an unknown hand cradling your skull, your head was helped tipped back and felt cool water running down your throat. Water. Someone was helping you drink water.

“Good girl. Now just sit and breathe with me for a moment.”

There the voice was again. He sounded really sweet and gentle. Oh how you’d love to just take a nap. That sounded really nice. But you had......work! Eyes shooting open and your body moving into an upright position, you looked around frantically. You were still in the inventory room of the retail store. But----What happened?!

“Whoa whoa. Hey! Easy there. Easy or you’ll pass out again.”

Your head swung in the direction of the voice and almost lost it when you grew dizzy. Briefly closing your eyes to will the swaying away, you slowly opened your eyes once more and looked over at the owner of the voice who had sounded so sweet and kind.

A male. A young one. Judging from the lanyard and laminated ID hung around his neck, he was an employee just like you. Was he new? You couldn’t recall seeing him before. Blinking in utter confusion, you watched him sport a small, shy smile. He must have recognized the confusion in your eyes because he spoke up again once more.

“I think you passed out. I came in for my shift but when I did, I found you on the floor. Are you okay?”

Not wanting to risk being recognized, Jungkook forced his voice an octave higher and tried to sound more boyish. Being a private investigator and a demon, the trick of controlling his voice often times came in handy. For the first time ever, he saw color coating your face in the form of a blush. Dare he admit it, but it was actually kind of cute. He tended to have that affect on women.

“I um......Oh gosh I’m so sorry. How embarrassing. I’m okay, really. I’m sorry you had to walk in on that.”

Gosh you were adorable. A total contrast to how you were cowering in fear and begging him for mercy the night before. You really were a pure soul. He could feel it in his bones. Your soul was pure and untainted by sin. A soul that his boss would love to have. However.......Jungkook wasn’t done with you yet. This case was just getting started.

“No need to feel embarrassed. Are you okay, though? Here---Sip on the water a bit more before getting back to it. I’ll take care of the heavier boxes and you take the lighter ones, okay?”

“O--Oh--Okay.”

The demon had to bite back the ‘good girl’ that was on the tip of his tongue as he didn’t want to give himself away. Not when he was so close to you and having this golden opportunity to learn more about you. Speaking of which, as he worked, he couldn’t help but ask,

“So how long have you been working here? I just started.”

“Oh um......I’ve been here for a couple months, now. I’m just working in inventory, though. I don’t venture out on the floor. Which I’m okay with.”

He simply nodded as he took care of the heavy boxes with ease. You’d occasionally tell him where they needed to go before you eventually stood up and he could tell you were testing the waters; making sure you wouldn’t fall over again. Gosh there was a slew of questions he had for you but how could he possibly ask them without seeming like a creep?

“You look a bit tired. Are you under the weather? You can always call in sick if you’re not feeling well, you know. That’s what sick time is for.”

This young man was strange. Well.....not strange just......He made you curious. You knew better than to try and deny that you were tired. Long ago had you not bothered trying to hide the bags under your eyes. What was the point? Makeup was just a waste of money in your opinion. Smiling your best to reassure him, you shook your head slowly and replied a bit timidly,

“Nah. I’m okay. Really. I wouldn’t want to appear lazy or anything. I enjoy this job and I don’t want to risk losing it.”

You worked too hard. That was his first self-drawn conclusion. You were working yourself to death. But what for? Perhaps you had a family to support? He had known a few mortals to work as a means to provide for their families. But this.....this seemed different. Despite the exhaustion all over your face, your eyes sparkled with a light that Jungkook had never witnessed before.

Oh how you intrigued him.

The two of you worked for another three hours and in that span of time, the demon boy learned a lot about you. Turns out you had no family, you were on the border of becoming homeless, hence why you needed this job so much. Your apartment building was on the more shadier side of town. You didn’t own a phone or a car. It was almost unbelievable, really. Like Jungkook wanted to call you a liar but he could tell from the sound of your voice that you were telling the sad sad truth.

And then......the words just came flying out of his mouth.

“Let me treat you to dinner.”

‘What the hell, Kook?!’

As he was cursing himself for such a sudden and ridiculous impulse, you simply stared at him with shock and confusion. Watching him clear his throat as he seemed to be composing himself while putting away another box, he finally turned to you and elaborated a little. For the both of you.

“You helped me a lot on my first day here. You didn’t have to do that. So I’d like to repay you by treating you to dinner.”

When you flashed him a smile, he thought that perhaps you’d really take him up on his offer. Why did he even want to take you to dinner in the first place? You were a mortal and he was a demon. You were light and he was dark. The two of you had no business associating with each other and yet here he was latching onto you like a leech.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I couldn’t accept such a kind offer. I know food isn’t cheap around here. I wouldn’t want you spending your hard earned money on me like that.”

Well dang. He didn’t see that one coming.

Standing there in a bit of a stunned stupor, he watched you bite your bottom lip and kindly excused yourself with a hint of nervousness in your voice. You muttered something about your shift being over and how you really needed to get going or you’d miss the bus stop to your next job.

Your next job.......

Just how many jobs did you have???

Jungkook left the inventory room the same way he walked in, but not without messing with the snooty girls at the front register. He tied the one girl’s shoelaces together and he tangled the other girl’s lanyard into the cash drawer. That would teach them talking bad about his mortal.

Turns out your next job was an art museum. You were a janitor there. That would explain the chemicals and bleach that seemed to be carved into your pores. How had he found out this information? Simple, he followed you. Now he was dressed as a young businessman interested in buying a piece of art when really his only interest was you.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could spot you mopping the floors. Gosh even your janitor’s outfit was large on you. But not nearly as baggy as your casual clothing from earlier. But it also showcased just how unhealthily skinny you were. Part of the demon wondered if you were suffering from anorexia. He wouldn’t rule out the possibility.

“So, sir, what piece were you interested in purchasing today?”

That night, he followed you home. Wearing the same black attire he sported the night before. Normally he’d be patrolling the town for any unsuspecting souls to trade but tonight......his sole focus was making sure you got home safely. Gracefully jumping and hopping from rooftop to rooftop, he watched you like the demon he was. Red eyes piercing into the back of your skull.

You had the funny feeling someone was watching you and it only made your feet move faster. After last night, you really didn’t want a repeat of it. Then again....maybe that meant you’d get to see him again. The male with the bright red eyes. Shivering when a cold went came through, you shook your head to clear the thoughts and tried to walk a little bit faster.

Finally making it into your apartment, you barely made it to your bedroom before you collapsed on the bed; out like a light.

Meanwhile, just across the street, perched on the roof, was Jungkook. Gently tugging down his mask so that all of his face could be seen, he stared intently at your window before speaking softly,

“Found you, little human.”

From the looks of it, you had officially left for the day. Probably off on one of your many jobs you held. Seriously, just how many freaking jobs did you have??? From what he gathered of the human race, the max jobs a mortal held was around two, maybe three at the most. But with you…..it seemed to be more than that. Way more.

Jungkook knew he had the right apartment number because your unique scent was practically rolling out from under the door and he was surprised to smell something there mixed in with the familiar smell of cleaning chemicals.

Now it was time for a little magic. Black magic, that is. Smirking while cracking his knuckles, he stared down your door as if trying to size it up. Yeah. Okay. So the guy was a bit full of himself. He was a smoking hot demon, after all.

With a flick of his wrist, he felt the magic flow down his arm and to the tips of his fingers. However, he never heard the click of the lock. Hmm…..That was odd. Eyebrows knitting together in confusion, the demon tried once again and flicked his wrist this time with a little more pep. Still nothing. Growling lowly in mild irritation, he ran a quick magical diagnostic on the wooden thing but came up with nothing. No protection spells or anything.

“What the hell, Door? Open already!”

Try as he might, spell after spell, the poor boy couldn’t get the blasted door to unlock. Grumbling, he eventually said screw it and tried the old fashioned way…..Turning the doorknob.

“Whoa!”

Having expected the need to use force, he shoved his full body weight against the door and ended up plummeting into your apartment. There Jungkook laid on your floor for a couple moments before realizing what the hell happened. Turning over onto his back to investigate, he saw the source of his embarrassment.

Your door was never locked in the first place. He could see the latch hanging by a thread.

Well that explains it.

Picking himself up off the floor and dusting himself off, he took a look around. Wow. You lived here? How? How on Earth did you actually live here? The freaking ceiling was leaking! He stood there watching rust colored water seeping from the sunken ceiling and falling into a plastic bucket which was nearly half full.

The place was tiny as well. He could see a small kitchen with a living room all in one open floor plan. You had a recliner and that was it. No couch or tv. The lack of technology astounded him. You didn’t even have a washer or dryer which meant you must use a laundry mat. Deciding to venture further, he walked down a narrow hallway.

He found your bedroom and your bathroom which was across from each other. Your bedroom was so tiny. Was that a twin size bed??? Looking around, he noticed you had nothing but the basics. You didn’t even have a desk or a lamp. You just had the bare minimum. Although he noticed a picture frame containing who he could only guess were your parents. Funny......You looked so much like your dad....Only prettier.

Looking into your bathroom, he noticed the lack of a hair dryer. Frowning, he instantly thought about you possibly going out into the chilly November air with a wet head. You could catch illness doing that. Foolish little human. Pulling the curtain to the side, he noticed you had only two bottles perched on the rounded edge. A bottle of cheap shampoo and just as cheap body wash. No wonder it did so little for your hair and skin. He recognized those brands. They were practically all water.

He needed to do something. This was......too much. He needed to get out of here before he did something rash. What was this painful feeling in his chest and why was it making it hard for him to breathe? Jungkook couldn’t understand it. He had never felt this way during a case. You.......You were doing this to him. Perhaps you yourself was a demon? A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A wolf after his black heart.

[toothpaste-dragon]

After countless hours of writing and editing, I’m excited to finally share this!!

Far From Home is the title of a novel I'd like to write someday, but it's currently nothing more than a work in progress. “Nightmare,” the written piece under the cut, is an original post-story excerpt that explores the growing familial relationship between Baz and Toko, the story’s main characters. 

I worked hard to create something memorable and poured my heart into these characters, so I hope you enjoy it! Expect some lighthearted moments, angst, and fluff.

Genre: Science Fiction

Words: 5,731

For space travelers, there was no such thing as night and day. Overhead lights gave the illusion of daytime and shadowy corridors the illusion of night, but the dark, vast expanse of space provided no indication of passing time. In accordance with intergalactic vehicle regulations, most spaceships had a built-in light fluctuation system designed to protect passengers from various sleep disorders. The software itself was very reliable, with a mere handful of glitches reported annually. The only downside was that this day-night cycle exclusively conformed to the circadian rhythm of a single individual. To take advantage of this system, it was common knowledge that the passenger with the longest natural cycle should set the standard for the rest of the ship.

Baz found it surprisingly easy to adjust to a 28-hour cycle despite needing only two hours of sleep each night. Truthfully, this artificial nighttime had become something Baz genuinely looked forward to. Free of his two overly-chatty passengers, he could enjoy some alone time and appreciate the unfamiliar stillness of the ship, save for the constant hum beneath his clawed feet. He would sit in silence for hours filling out delivery confirmation forms, a requirement of his job as an intergalactic merchant. Once finished, Baz would leave the papers scattered on the dining table (Gerdie would surely clean them up in the morning) and shuffle to his sleeping quarters without a sound. Propping himself up against his bedframe, he would lazily drape blankets over his lower half before retrieving a book from the nightstand and indulging in one of his favorite pastimes. Reading.

Tonight was no different. With all the paperwork done, Baz’s snout was burrowed deep in The Battle for Kelekekelelu, a historical recount of a devastating war between the citizens and power-hungry leaders of the Zeta Quadrant. Survivors’ personal accounts filled the pages with gruesome scenarios described in full detail, such that the entire work was deemed unsuitable for public sale by government-regulated distribution services. Baz liked the book. His whole existence had been an uphill battle, so he found solace in stories of heartache and devastation, and it was easy for him to sympathize with the discouraged and oppressed. To know he was not the only being in the universe that had suffered great losses throughout their lifetime – it was comforting, in a weird sort of way. But it was also a sobering reminder that reality wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Life was hard, people were cruel, pain was real. And there were no happy endings.

Baz was about to turn the page when a distant thump caught his attention. A faint pattering of feet followed soon after, gradually getting louder as the spaceship’s smallest passenger approached the captain’s open doorway. Baz sighed. No more alone time.

The pattering slowed to a stop in the narrow hallway, and all was quiet. When nobody appeared, Baz wondered if his visitor had reconsidered. Three soft knocks told him otherwise.

“Baz?” The cracked voice of a young girl broke the silence.

“What is it, Toko?” Baz asked, sounding a bit more accusatory than intended.

Baz looked up just in time to see a purple alien emerge from her hiding place behind the doorframe. Eyes downcast, the girl’s tear-stained cheeks glistened in the dim light. She was quivering uncontrollably and kept fiddling with the hem of her nightgown, releasing her grip only to wipe away fresh tears. The girl’s thin tail was wrapped tightly around her left leg, a telltale sign that she was frightened. Baz’s eyebrows shot up.

“Whoa, uh…are you okay?” Baz lowered the book and scratched his right horn uncomfortably, unsure how to approach such a delicate situation. “What’s wrong, kid?”

“I had a nightmare,” Toko sniffled, finally making eye contact. Somewhat guiltily, Baz tried to remember if Toko had described ‘nightmares’ in the past, but with no success. Translation devices could only do so much to bridge the gap between their languages. His furrowed brow prompted the girl to elaborate.

“On my home planet, nightmares are the darkest of dreams. They’re not very nice.” Her grip tightened on the nightgown. “This one wasn’t very nice…”

She lowered her gaze and stared blankly at her feet. A teardrop fell from her cheek, hitting the metal floor with a meager plop.

Baz hummed a reply and nodded thoughtfully. A few seconds passed. He glanced around his sleeping quarters and fidgeted with the book that looked incredibly tiny in his enormous hands. Well, this was awkward. He felt bad for the kid, but he didn’t know what to do. What he should do. Luckily, Toko spoke before he could say anything stupid.

“I was just wondering if, um…” Toko started, but she hesitated. Glancing up hopefully, she practically whispered, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

It was this question that filled Baz with dread.

Toko knew the rules. She wasn’t allowed to sleep next to Baz for a number of reasons, the most prominent being their cultural differences. Members of Toko’s race, as Baz had learned, found comfort in proximity and platonic physical touch. It was normal for friends, relatives, and strangers of all kinds to give handshakes, hugs, and strange displays of affection called ‘kisses.’ To them, physical touch represented togetherness and familiarity. This closeness strengthened their fondness for one another.

Members of Baz’s race, on the other hand, valued their personal space and viewed physical touch as a deliberate act of aggression. Individuals kept to themselves, avoiding strangers and sometimes even relatives, though this practice was more frequent among males than females. A violation of personal space was never an accident; in such cases, males would battle for dominance and bloodshed was sure to follow. Any sign of vulnerability was a death sentence.

While Baz had essentially outgrown his own race’s hostile tendencies over the years, remnants remained. Togetherness still felt wrong. Closeness still made him uncomfortable. So when he looked into Toko’s swollen eyes and desperately wanted to make the bad memories fade away, he didn’t immediately open the invitation. But she was just a kid. And he was all she had. So maybe, for once…he could try.

Baz sighed and lifted the covers from the vacant side of the king-size mattress, turning to Toko with a look that wasn’t quite as menacing as usual. Even with tear-dampened cheeks, the girl’s face lit up immediately.

Bare feet padded across the floor to the large bed that easily dwarfed the alien child. Determined, she sprang up and clung to the fitted sheet in an attempt to scale the mattress, searching for a foothold in the process, but instead lost her grip and fell to the ground. She tried again, this time grasping for the bedsheet, and realized too late that the bedsheet had decided to come tumbling down with her.

Watching all of this occur, Baz rolled his eyes and dog-eared a page in his book, placing it on the nightstand to his right. He shifted his position on the bed and leaned over the edge of the mattress, offering a hand to the inexperienced mountaineer. She gladly took his hand and murmured a quiet “Thank you.”

Baz effortlessly hoisted Toko onto the bed, his massive hand engulfing her tiny paw, and gingerly set her down beside him. Once she was settled, he recovered the fallen bedsheet and spread it out across the mattress, using a large portion to cover his little guest. She promptly wrapped herself in the blanket until only her head was visible.

Baz was quick to distance himself from the girl, returning to his pillow and retrieving his book from the nightstand. To his relief, Toko stayed on the opposite side of the bed and snuggled deeper into her own pillow, silently welcoming sleep. He wondered if she understood the significance of her actions across their cultures. Either way, Baz was grateful she hadn’t moved any closer.

Ten soundless minutes passed. It was strange, sharing a peaceful moment with Toko. This will probably be the last, he mused. It wasn’t often she sat still for more than a short while.

Baz endured the girl’s endless bouts of energy and annoyingly unrealistic optimism every day. To tell the truth, it was extremely tiring. He might even compare it to a second job. But when she asked him to play pretend or read one of her favorite books or draw silly pictures, he complied (to a certain degree, of course). She still had that childlike wonder, oohing and ahhing at every new discovery. Something so pure – it was valuable in such a dark world. Baz grinned, remembering her week-long fascination with the garbage disposal.

The ship’s atmosphere had changed significantly since her arrival six months ago. Yes, he tolerated her, but lately Baz found himself smiling more often. Laughing, even. As frequently as he denied it, he cared deeply for the child. She was like family now.

He stole a glance at his visitor. Toko lay motionless, her back to him. She was miniscule amidst the colossal mattress. Baz exhaled a contented sigh.

She was a good kid.

Before he could return to his book, however, something caught his attention. Years of working as a smuggler had trained his eyes and ears to perceive the slightest of details, but even the most oblivious of onlookers would find it hard to ignore the sudden, sharp breaths coming from the tiny lump beneath his bedsheets.

Toko began to twitch, and the twitching quickly turned to trembling. The nightmare was still nipping at her heels.

Baz’s first instinct was to wake her, but he hesitated. Part of him really didn’t want to deal with a crying child twice in one night. Besides, comforting others wasn’t his area of expertise. With his harsh words and suck-it-up attitude, he’d probably do more harm than good.

In his mind, he was just there to listen and offer questionable advice. Thankfully, Toko was very open about her feelings, so he rarely had to initiate a conversation. It saved him a lot of unnecessary stress. Only this time, she was asleep. If something was to be done, he’d have to do it himself.

Baz returned his book to the nightstand and called Toko’s name softly. To his dismay, she didn’t respond and the trembling worsened. Steeling himself, he reached over and lightly tapped her on the shoulder, repeating her name. Toko woke with a gasp and whirled around reflexively, further entangling herself in blankets. She struggled desperately against the fabric.

“No!” she yelped. The nightmare had yet to release its hold, and she looked up at Baz with wet eyes. Her chest was heaving.

“It’s okay,” Baz assured, “it’s okay. It’s just me.” He extended a meaty hand, causing her to flinch, and freed the girl from her constricting cocoon of blankets.

She blinked. Toko seemed to realize she was back in Baz’s sleeping quarters. Breathing heavily, she choked back a sob and wiped her eyes, salty tears sticking to her fur.

“Baz, they…they locked me away again,” she sniveled. “I was all alone and I was so scared and they hurt me. And I kept calling your name, but–”

“It was just a dream,” Baz quickly interjected. He didn’t like where this was going. “It wasn’t real. You’re safe.”

They both knew the dream wasn’t real. But the memory wedged within the dream was very real.

Despite his attempt to console her, Toko started crying uncontrollably. She hiccupped after every few breaths, sniffling like a sick bloodhound. As much as he hated seeing her like this, Baz knew it was best to let her finish. Calming her would be easier if she could form coherent sentences.

Feeling quite foolish, Baz tentatively enveloped one of her long, rabbit-like ears in a giant hand, gently rubbing his fingers across the surface. To him, the gesture was unusual, but it always made her feel better. ‘Like mom used to do,’ she’d told him. Compared to his tough, leathery skin, her fur was soft and delicate.

After a few minutes, her breathing slowed to a steady pace. She rubbed her eyes, getting rid of any remaining tears, and leaned into Baz’s touch.

“I didn’t like that dream.”

Baz frowned. “I don’t blame you.”

Toko hugged herself tightly, little fingers tugging at the patterned fabric of her nightgown. She looked completely exhausted, but it seemed she was too scared to close her eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the open doorway, unblinking, as if something were to walk through at any moment. The bedsheet on her lap was covered in dried stains from tears and mucus.

Lovely. Baz made a mental note to wash the snot out of his blankets in the morning.

Studying Toko carefully, his face scrunched up in displeasure. He wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how. Big surprise, he grumbled. This feeling of helplessness was really getting to him. He was strong, cunning, independent – he was the captain of a spaceship for crying out loud. Clearly, Baz was capable of doing things that required a lot of skill. It was the girl that should be clueless, not him. And yet, whenever he tried to console her, he never got it right.

What was he doing wrong? Was there a secret technique or mathematical equation for this kind of thing? His train of thought derailed, and suddenly Baz had a revelation. If he didn’t know how to help Toko, maybe he could just ask. Was it really that easy?

He had a feeling he was going to regret this.

“Look kid,” he ventured, releasing her ear from his grip. “You’ve had a pretty rough night, and you need rest. Is there…anything I can do to help you sleep?”

Toko wore something that resembled a puzzled expression. Having never been asked such a question by her parental guardian, she sat in silent thought, relaxing a little. Baz started to get anxious when she didn’t respond immediately, nervous about the complexity of her request. Finally, she spoke.

“Can you tell me a story?”

Baz internally groaned.

Ever since Toko had joined the crew, it was all sugar-coated fairytales and happy endings. That’s exactly what any normal person would expect from a seven-year-old, for the record, but Baz seriously considered ejecting her storybooks into space on more than one occasion. Fairytales were the least realistic depictions of life, and with each ‘happily ever after’ he was descending further into madness. But it’s what she wanted to hear, and the stories made her smile. So he read them again and again.

“Alright,” Baz rumbled wearily. “Go pick one out from your bookshelf. There’s a flashlight in the bottom drawer of my nightstand.”

Toko shook her head. “No, no. I want you to tell me a new story. One that belongs to you.”

This caught the captain off-guard. A story that belonged to him? Like what, a memory? Some of Baz’s favorite memories came from his time in prison, but those stories weren’t appropriate for children. In fact, most of his memories weren’t appropriate for children, even the good ones. So maybe that’s not what she meant. Maybe she was just tired of reading the same five stories and wanted to shake things up.

The only problem was that Baz had never created his own story. Although, after reading Toko’s storybooks, he’d noticed patterns in the plot and subject matter. Little girls liked princesses and magic and true love, right? Creating a story couldn’t be that hard. Something short and sweet was guaranteed to satisfy her. If not, he’d have to devise a backup plan. His imagination wasn’t big enough for two stories, let alone one.

“Sure, kid. Though…I can’t promise it’ll be any good.” Baz sighed. The things he did for this girl.

“Once upon a time, there was a–”

“What does that mean?”

Expecting nothing less from Toko, Baz turned to the alien who had so rudely interrupted him. “What does what mean? ‘Once upon a time’?”

Toko nodded her head. “Is that another one of your complicated space thingys? I just don’t understand…how does someone get on top of time? And why only once?”

Momentary confusion turned to realization, and Baz let out a light chuckle. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Toko’s vocabulary was very different from his own. Well-known sayings from his planet were often completely foreign to her. The girl had probably never heard the phrase in her entire life.

Adjusting his slouched position against the bedframe, Baz explained, “It’s just a fancy way of saying ‘a long time ago.’ Where I’m from, we use it to describe something that happened in the past.”

“Oh.” Toko knit her brow. She seemed to be processing the correlation between his explanation and the phrase. Like most phrases, it didn’t translate well in her language. Eventually, she lost interest and decided to move on.

“Can you please start over? The story, I mean,” she smiled sheepishly.

Baz hummed in reply and cleared his throat. Here goes nothing. “Once upon a time, there was a princess. This princess lived in a big castle and, uh…ruled over a peaceful kingdom with her mother and father. They all loved each other very much, and nothing bad ever happened to them. And the, um, princess was happy.”

Toko’s eyes brightened in anticipation. Not a bad start.

“Behind the castle was a garden filled with flowers. The princess loved to walk through the garden and listen to the songs of the morning birds. The birds – no, the princess…uh…”

Okay. Maybe creating a story was harder than he thought. Where was he going with this?

Flowers. Singing birds. Magic. All recurring themes in Toko’s storybooks.

“One day, while sitting in the garden, the princess was greeted by…a raven. Yeah, a raven. The bird carried a pink flower in its beak and offered it to the princess, saying it was a…” What was it called? “…an ‘enchanted’ flower. According to the raven, each of the flower’s petals granted a wish when plucked. Warning the princess to keep close watch over the flower, the raven flew away.”

Yes, he stole the idea for wish-granting petals from an old folktale, but he wasn’t about to tell Toko. Baz made up in borrowed material what he lacked in creativity.

He crossed ‘princess’ and ‘magic’ off his imaginary checklist. All that was left was true love.

“A few days later, a handsome prince arrived at the castle. The king and queen welcomed the prince to their home and introduced their daughter. It was,” Baz drawled, “love at first sight. Or something like that.

“The prince immediately got down on one knee and asked the princess to marry him. She agreed, and they got married. And they both lived happily ever after. The end.”

Toko’s facial expression was a combination of bewilderment and disappointment.

“That story wasn’t very good.”

“Gee, thanks for your brutal honesty,” Baz retorted.

“I mean, you mentioned the magic flower once and never brought it up again.”

Crap. It was stupid to think she wouldn’t have noticed.

“Alright, fine. You got me there. But I already told you I’m not the best storyteller–”

“And how could the prince fall in love with the princess just by looking at her–”

“IT WAS BAD, I GET IT.”

Baz regretted snapping at Toko the moment the words left his mouth. She didn’t deserve such treatment, especially over something so trivial. But he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t made to be gentle, or even-tempered, or any of the things she needed him to be.

Yet there she was, giggling like it was all just a big joke.

When people met Baz for the first time, it was common for them to turn tail and run. Those who ignored this initial impulse left the conversation very, very sweaty. Strangers, colleagues, and even friends described him as frightening. Of all the people he’d met over the course of his lifetime, Toko was one of the few to think he was funny.

Baz collected himself and let out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, kid. I’m just not cut out for this storytelling stuff.”

The statement, while accurate, served as a poor substitute for the apology he could never properly communicate. I’m just not cut out for this ‘father’ stuff.

The snickering stopped and a small hand pat his arm encouragingly. He glanced up at Toko. “It’s okay,” she smiled. “You don’t have to be.”

Something welled up in Baz’s chest. It was an odd feeling, one that was buried beneath the rubble of years and years of unrealistic expectations. Whether her response had been directed at his hidden insecurity or not, reality hit like a brick to the head. He didn’t need to be a ‘typical parent’ to be a good parent. He’d proven this dozens of times when she laughed at his aggravated outbursts during board games or happily chewed his shameful attempts at traditional Thruxscan dishes. Toko accepted his quirky, rough-around-the-edges love without hesitation and reciprocated these familial feelings in her own way.

He needed to start believing his love for Toko was valuable, albeit unconventional, and that she expected nothing more than what he could give.

“Maybe,” the girl proposed, unaware of Baz’s self-reflection, “we could create a story together.”

Baz blinked in surprise. “Whaddya mean?”

“We take turns telling different parts of a story until we reach the end. It’s sort of like a game! I used to do it with my siblings all the time.”

It wasn’t a bad suggestion. At least Toko might guide the plot in a logical direction, and it could help shift her focus away from the nightmare. Besides, it seemed his participation would be limited, which was preferable.

Without waiting for his approval, she scooted closer to Baz and eagerly bounced up and down. “I’ll start!”

The captain’s brow rose in amusement. Let’s see where this goes.

“Once upon a time,” Toko began, emphasizing her use of the newly-learned phrase, “there was a princess. She lived in a big castle at the center of a beautiful kingdom. The castle was big because she had a big family! She had a mom, a dad, and lots n’ lots of brothers and sisters. The princess never wanted jewels or shiny things because she loved her family more than anything in the world.

“One night, while the princess was asleep, an evil hogthropple snuck into the castle and took her family away. When the princess woke up and realized what happened, she was sad. She felt very alone in the big castle. So she left the kingdom to track down the hogthropple and rescue her family.”

Toko sat there, looking up at Baz expectantly. “Now it’s your turn,” she prompted.

He didn’t even know where to begin.

“Mind telling me who this ‘hogthropple’ is, first?”

“It’s a scary monster,” Toko explained, raising her hands above her head to describe its large size and frightening appearance. “It has six legs and pointy teeth and a long, spikey tail. And if you touch the spikes, you turn to stone. That’s why hogthropples horde stone figures in their caves.”

If Baz had to guess, the hogthropple was a make-believe monster created to discourage children from disobeying their parents. Even across galaxies, parental figures always used some form of fictional fear tactic to control their kids. Though, the more he thought about it, Toko’s race wasn’t one to establish good behavior by eliciting negative emotions. For all he knew, the creature was real. There was some wacky stuff out in space.

“I see.” He scratched his chin, considering how to extend her tale. In Toko’s storybooks, princesses rarely accomplished anything without the help of a knight in shining armor. Maybe this story required a knight, too.

“The princess had never travelled beyond the kingdom’s borders, so she needed help if she was going to find the hogthropple and save her family. At the advice of an old friend, she followed a winding path through a dark forest in search of the brave Sir Lancelot, a valiant knight. She walked, and walked, and walked for what felt like ages until she stumbled upon…she stumbled upon a…um…”

Toko noticed Baz was having trouble and swiftly interjected. “She stumbled upon a big, fearsome hunter and his trusty sidekick!”

Baz smirked. “That’s right. She ran into a hunter and his pal. And what did the princess say to these intriguing fellows?”

“The princess asked the hunter if he would help rescue the king and queen from the evil hogthropple. She felt powerless…she didn’t know where to find the beast and was too weak to fight it on her own. But the hunter refused,” said Toko, “because he didn’t want to risk his life to save people he’d never met. So he ignored her request.”

Well, this was taking a depressing turn. Granted, Baz also would’ve ignored the princess’ request, but this wasn’t the kind of uplifting story he had originally expected. He grabbed hold of the reins, hoping to change the story for the better.

“The princess was disheartened by the hunter’s response, but she veered off the winding path to follow him and his comrade. Surely, they couldn’t refuse her request if they knew she was the kingdom’s beloved princess.”

He nudged Toko, forfeiting ownership of the narrative.

“Instead of helping her, like his sidekick wanted, the hunter sold the princess to a group of shady bandits for a big bag of money.”

Baz wasn’t dumb. The lack of a formal education caused him to stumble at times, but he was far from stupid. There was something very familiar about this story. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

Then it hit him. She was telling her story, their story, as if it were some sort of fantasy adventure. She was the princess, Gerdie was the sidekick, and he was the fearsome hunter. The hunter that had refused to help a little girl.

Baz knew this story all too well, and he wasn’t in the mood to reopen old wounds. Why was she doing this?

He supposed Toko had a reason, but in the end, he didn’t feel the need to ask. As much as he hated reliving past mistakes in the form of a fairytale, maybe she needed this. To process things. To let go.

“The bandits locked the princess in a cage,” Toko continued, “and she was scared. How could she save her family now? Luckily, the hunter and his friend helped her escape when the criminals fell asleep. It had all been a scam to bake some dough.”

Unable to help himself, Baz snorted. She had obviously meant to say ‘make some dough,’ a slang phrase used among his own people. Close enough.

Receiving a confused glance from the girl, he picked up where she left off. “The princess was furious with the hunter, but the hunter didn’t care. With the gold pieces in tow, he turned around and walked away without a second glance. Suddenly, the princess grabbed his hand and tugged on it fiercely, pointing up toward the sky. Had it not been for her warning, he would’ve been crushed beneath falling tree branches from the canopy above.”

He looked down at Toko, who had burrowed underneath the covers at some point during the story. She smiled and nodded, but said nothing. She wanted him to keep going.

“Uh…in return for saving his life, the hunter reluctantly agreed to help the princess find Sir Lancelot. At daybreak, the three heroes began their trek through the deep, dark forest.”

The little purple alien at his side didn’t seem to grasp the concept of personal space. For the record, Baz’s personal bubble was larger than most, and the girl was much closer than normal. Though, for what felt like the first time in years, this closeness didn’t make him feel uncomfortable.

Again, she grinned up at him. She wanted to hear more.

“Along the way, they met a handful of interesting characters. The first was a nasty group of poachers, but they were no match for the hunter’s incredible strength. The second was a lonely gnome with a love for riddles, and the hunter’s sidekick quickly lifted his spirits with a few irresistible conundrums. The third was a swarm of irritated fairies, but they were instantly calmed when the princess offered to share her lunch.”

Toko giggled softly, thoroughly enjoying Baz’s rendition of their crazy journey through outer space.

“It was in that moment,” Baz resumed, “that the hunter realized he appreciated the princess’ company. It was going to be very hard to say goodbye to his new friend.”

Baz didn’t need to be coaxed this time. He wanted to finish the story.

“Finally, the three heroes reached the home of Sir Lancelot. When nobody answered the door, they walked inside to make sure he was alright. They were disappointed to find the knight cowering in the corner, refusing to go anywhere near the hogthropple. The princess begged and pleaded, tears pricking her eyes, but the knight declined her request.

“After leaving the knight’s house, the princess sat on a stump and cried. She didn’t know what to do. It seemed no one was willing to help rescue her family. The hunter, on the other hand, felt bad for the princess and weighed his options. Was he really considering risking his life to save the king and queen? He had a decision to make.

“As if on cue, the hogthropple appeared, his large body blocking all exits. With a silky voice and a sly grin, the hogthropple addressed the hunter as if he were an old friend. Indeed, the hunter knew this creature, as it had turned his lover to stone many, many years ago. The beast proposed a trade: hand over the princess, and he would spare the hunter’s life.”

Before he knew it, Toko was resting her head on his lap, peering up at him from under heavy eyelids. Baz tensed up, very much aware of her presence.

He’d spoken too soon. Maybe this closeness made him feel a little uncomfortable. He tried to mask his unease, eye contact with Toko wavering.

“U-um…though he claimed to fear nothing, the hunter was very afraid of the monster that had turned his lover to stone. So, to the princess’ horror, the hunter agreed. The hogthropple snatched the girl up in a clawed fist and slithered away.

“Once at his cave, the hogthropple showed the princess his horde of stone figures. Some were standing in neat rows, while others were piled on top of one another. The princess instantly recognized the closest statues as her family. She couldn’t save them. She was too late.

“The hogthropple fixed his eyes on the girl, telling her that a princess would make a nice addition to his collection. Before he could turn her to stone, however, the hunter and his sidekick appeared at the mouth of the cave. With the help of his comrade, the hunter conquered the beast, saving the princess in the process.”

Toko hummed. She was struggling to keep her eyes open.

“The princess was grateful for the hunter’s help,” Baz said, “but saddened by her family’s condition. What could she do? She was all alone, and there was nobody to take care of her.

“In a moment of weakness, the hunter offered to look after the girl. He was nothing like her real parents, and he couldn’t provide the luxury that came with royalty, but he promised to protect the princess and keep her safe. The hunter’s sidekick joined in, too, increasing their number to three. Though they could never replace her true family, they would be there for her when she needed them.”

The girl in his lap shifted, raising her head slightly. “And did they live happily ever after?”

Baz’s features softened. “Yeah, kid. They did.”

The smile remained on the child’s face even as her eyelids began to droop, moisture forming in the corners of her eyes. “See? You’re a great storyteller,” Toko yawned.

Baz was anything but troubled when tears trailed down her face. Her real family was a touchy subject, and despite her happy-go-lucky personality, there were moments when she could do nothing but sob in his arms. He was relieved to know she was taking small steps to release the pent-up sorrow.

At first, he’d considered changing the end of the story for her sake, but having experienced the consequences of living in a false reality, he decided against it. He didn’t want Toko to end up like him. She needed to face the truth.

Her shoulders rose and fell, her breathing slow. While still very displeased by her perch atop his knees, he tried to focus on the fact that this little girl trusted him. Even after all the mistakes and betrayals, she was here. And she was happy.

From the edges of sleep, Toko’s eyes flickered open and she gasped, making Baz flinch. She sputtered a hasty apology and moved away from the captain, resting her head on the adjacent pillow.

Baz was surprised. He didn’t expect her to remember his strict rules about proximity, as she clearly hadn’t reached an age where she could differentiate between their cultural standards. But this gesture meant the world to him. They had both made sacrifices to find comfort in this ramshackle ship they called ‘home,’ and this small act proved that someone cared, really cared, about his wellbeing. About his preferences. About him.

Baz chuckled, gently grabbing an unsuspecting Toko by the neck of her nightgown and setting her down beside him.

“It’s okay, kid. Just…don’t tell Gerdie I’m turning soft, alright?”

The girl’s tired eyes shined in the dim light, and she smiled. Baz received smiles like this all the time, and this one was no less special.

Toko snuggled close to Baz, who draped the bedsheet over her petite form. With a huge hand, he rubbed at the base of her tiny horns as she drifted off to sleep, something her birth father used to do.

At the sound of peaceful snoring, Baz carefully plucked his book from the nightstand and opened to the dog-eared page. He sighed, the corners of his mouth curving up against his will.

Baz didn’t believe in happy endings. But just this once, they didn’t seem so farfetched.

[bitegore]

Rodimus angst headcanons? bc let's face it you are at least the angst master if not the angst king

anon im blushing. i appreciate you

Rodimus lays awake at night, not recharging, because he can’t make his processor stop replaying all of his past failures. Every last failure. Even things that weren’t failures, or weren’t his responsibility. 

He keeps getting yelled at by various medics (cough cough, RATCHET, cough) for not sleeping enough. He blames his failures for that, too. 

TALK ABOUT A GUILT COMPLEX WHOO BOY. Every dead Autobot he’s ever spoken to is his fault, somehow. Not seeing through Dealer is clearly a moral failing of his. He’s the WORST Autobot. How could anyone like or trust him? Rodimus is clearly THE WORST and he doesn’t understand why no one else sees it. But that must mean that he’s good at hiding it, right? But now he has a ship under his command, oh shit oh shit, at least he has Ultra Magnus, but he can’t let them see that he’s the Worst, he’s gotta be perfect– so instead he pretends he’s all happy and friendly and oh shit oh no oh fuck now they think he’s childish and now there’s Megatron?? on board his ship oh fuck oh SHIT  clearly EVERYONE agrees hes the worst Autobot there is. 

When Getaway kicked him off the Lost Light for being a Megatron sympathizer, it hit him real fucking hard because of that, and it made him way more defensive of his position as an Autobot and more tenuous about it at the same time. Because finally, someone who saw him for what he really was (the Worst) and recognized that he was the Worst (rip), and then they. got rid of him. took the things that were his, even though in Rodimus’s mind they Shouldn’t Have Been, but now! everyone! is still! looking to him for guidance!!! fuck!! So he pretends Getaway was wrong, even though he doesn’t think Getaway was wrong, but he’s . hurt, you know? and that’s part of why he tries to save Getaway despite all of what Getaway did. To prove the point that he’s not as Bad as Getaway knows he is, deep down.

(He’s not actually The Worst at all. He just has a godawful case of impostor syndrome in my headcanons. its because hes technically a prime but hes not “as good as Optimus” so cleeeeeearly he’s not good at all, RIP)

 Rodimus isn’t actually that good a friend to Drift. He keeps looking at Drift and seeing someone who he could have been and it hurts him inside and so he just. He keeps being cold and dismissive towards Drift and then flipflopping from that to very attention seeking because Drift has a surprising amount of patience for Rodimus, mostly because he gets it, somewhat. On Rodimus’s side of things, he feels really bad about this, because he’s well aware he’s treating Drift badly, but on the other hand, sometimes just being around Drift makes him want to purge, or yell, or hit things, and then he runs off and doesn’t go be around Drift and then the cycle repeats. 

He’s not a great friend to anyone else, either. Not for any particular reason–it’s not that he’s not friendship material–but he keeps flipping between “I can be friends with people” and “I’m deceiving these people and I need to get away so they can be around real people instead of garbage like me,” and that just turns into him being an extremely unreliable friend. 

Back during the Dealer debacle–let’s go back to that for a bit–back when Dealer happened, and after they found out about his trickery, Rodimus (then Hot Rod, of course) went home and sat in his room and broke all his mirrors because for a while there he couldn’t stand to see the face of the person who got every single person on his team that wasn’t a Decepticon killed. Because of course it had to be his fault. Everything was always his fault. I have had this headcanon for so fucking long, man, you have no idea. 

He’s actually got this really deep thread of self-loathing that runs through everything he does. So deep. Like to the point where should someone start trying to tell him he’s worthless he’ll just. agree. mentally. But he’s Got To Be Perfect™, so he would deny it outwardly and put on this deeply self-absorbed and self-satisfied facade to try and hide it. He refuses to talk to Rung about this for reasons of Captain Must Be Perfect; he really should, because he desperately needs a fucking therapist. 

or an outlet of any kind that isn’t deadly risk

because of course Rodimus uses the thrills he seeks out as a way to self-medicate like me because if he’s so high off an adrenaline rush he isn’t thinking about anything other than the parts of him rushing with cold impact pain and the heat of the fire and the desperate last-ditch shit he’s got to do, then he feels more alive than he’s ever been. But it keeps building up. And he keeps needing more. And that terrifies him, sometimes, because he sits down occasionally and just realizes that it’s not going to stop until he kills himself chasing another adrenaline high, because one day it’s going to get to that point, because the stakes and the risks keep getting higher and he’s just getting older and stiffer and he’s not getting better but he needs the rush like he needs to breathe, and it’s just. not. working. 

he really hates the color green. that’s not really angst but it is a long-standing headcanon of mine that i wanted to put here. it kind of reminds him of Zeta Prime, but also he just thinks it’s ugly. 

[atomkrp-blog]

WELCOME TO XAVIER’S, LEE EUNKYUNG !

… loading statistics. currently aged nineteen, entering first semester of xavier’s in seoul, south korea. decrypting files… mutant has the following records: strength +4, durability+5, agility +4, dexterity +5, intelligence +7. currently, she is classified under tier omega.

BACKGROUND.

i.

eunkyung doesn’t remember much before the school, not really. she remembers the sound of sirens and a warm hand forcing her to hide behind a group of trash cans only for the sound of gunshots to ring the moment she crouched behind the foul smelling garbage holders. and then, a sharp pain in the side of her neck and, finally, nothing.part of her had always wondered if the school had purposefully altered her memories in order to ensure that she would be the perfect subject, someone who didn’t question what they did to her or what they made her do. but somewhere along the way, she begun to do exactly that.

ii.

growing up in a building that was basically an oversized cage and torture chamber where you were forced to fight other mutants in order to survive, something had to give, something always had to give; and that just happened to be her once violent nature. it’d been the death of her best friend, a young western girl by the name of anna johnson who was only a year younger than eunkyung, that had changed her perspective on the world around her. she’d always known that the world they lived in was a cruel one, especially towards mutants, and that certain people would do anything to see them eradicated from the world entirely — and eunkyung had been young and naive enough to believe that the school had been preparing them for the outside world. but it was anna’s death that had forced the young electromagnetic manipulator to open her eyes.

march 19, 2013; a day that would be forever ingrained in eunkyung’s mind. the day that she lost her best friend and discovered that the scientists weren’t there to help them prepare for the outside world, but to instead use their abilities against them by observing them in violent fights between mutants (fights that often resulted in deaths) and attempting to create a vaccine to cure mutants of their abilities from the blood samples said scientists took from their captive mutants. it was a vaccine that they had created from anna’s DNA that killed her, a vaccine they swore would work but instead lied and told anna that it was to make her stronger, the injection had resulted in anna’s very mutation and her white blood cells to team up in order to attack her body; she was dead within the next twenty four hours.

iii.

from then on, eunkyung would work to find a way out of the school. practicing her mutation inside the 5x10 cell she called home to the point where she could easily pry apart the metal bars on the door and windows and the scientists were made to move her to cell with a bulletproof glass door with the school’s deadliest captives as her neighbours — honestly she was quite proud to be considered one of the deadliest mutants there. even if she knew she wasn’t, just the most bothersome.

october 4, 2016; another day (and night) that eunkyung would never forget. it was the day that she had almost lost her life and the night she had simultaneously gained more freedom than she had ever had in her entire life. in what was perhaps the worst fight that eunkyung had ever participated in, she had been made to fight against a man twice her age and size who had the mutation of diamond mimicry; a man that had slammed her so hard against the walls of the fighting pit that it had triggered something deep within eunkyung that had caused her mutation to fight back in a way it never had. the metal walls had rippled dangerously due to the magnetic field her body was releasing before spiking out in random directions, one ridiculously sharp spike shooting right through eunkyung’s stomach and into his throat; effectively killing him on the spot.

after having passed out from loss of blood, eunkyung would make up in one of the older metal barred cells with a rather sloppy stitch job holding her stomach together; but finally, finally, lady luck had smiled down on her. she just hadn’t known that good ol’ lady luck would show up in the form of her being kept in a tiny 5x10 cell with metal bars at 3 in the morning.

iv.

part of eunkyung had, for whatever reason, foolishly thought that getting away from the school would be easy. she honestly should have known that there would still be security patrol the floors and the grounds in and outside the school and that the alarms would sound the moment she pried open the metal bars, but she had been high on pain and the desire to taste freedom.

she had run until her feet were bleeding, until the stitches holding her stomach together had torn open, until she had fallen down a steep hill and had passed out. how the security guards and dogs hadn’t found her was beyond her, but they hadn’t and she had been able to sleep fitfully for a few hours until the pain from her stomach woke her up and she found herself in a place known as hangang academy.

v.

settling into hangang academy had been an odd and, admittedly, terrifying experience. for eunkyung, who was so used to having to fight to survive, who had never felt freedom or acceptance in her life, had greeted the staff and students with aggression and she had no one but herself to blame when the other students avoided her like the plague despite the older mutants and staff doing their best to vouch for her.

it’s a hard thing to do, trying to befriend people when you either flinch away from any form of physical contact or deck the person who thought it’d be fun to surprise you, but she’s trying. and she supposes that that’s all you really can do.

MUTATION.

there have been plenty of mutants in the past who were gifted with the ability of electromagnetism manipulation, but none were as well known as the villain known as magneto. eunkyung supposes that that’s part of the reason why, growing up, she was so ashamed to be gifted with the mutation, especially when it meant that people would more often than not almost immediately associate her with cruelty instead of kindness. she supposes this reaction is what forged her into a person that looked at the world with anger and aggression, she greeted it with bloodied fists instead of an opened heart. though the smaller, positive side of eunkyung wishes to be the one to change the mutant world’s view on her ability, even if it means she’ll have to bend over backwards to do so.

STRENGTHS.

MAGNETISM MANIPULATION: by definition; magnetism manipulation is the sub power of her full mutation and the ability to generate, control, and manipulate magnetic fields in all forms, whether it be natural, organic, or artificial. and although her magnetism manipulation is nowhere near that strong, not yet, it is what got her out of the school. ripping apart the metal bars of her cage and the destroying the metal walls of the school was what had saved her life.

ELECTROMAGNETIC ATTACKS: one of the first abilities she was forced to learn and control at an early age in order to survive the school where she was pitted against other mutants in savage fights in order for the scientists to take notes, with her electromagnetic attack ability, eunkyung is able use her mutation to manipulate magnetic fields to contort metal to her will and even manipulate electric fields to manipulate the pure energy around her in different variations of the intensities.

ELECTROMAGNETISM DETECTION: another thing that made her an asset to the school was her ability to sense the presence of electromagnetic energy and, depending on how long she was given to assess said presence, possibly understand how strong said presence is and whether or not it’s hidden. this sub ability was what made eunkyung a particularly favourable test subject as it gave her a head start in tracking other people and objects.

( PARTIALLY LOCKED ) ELECTROMAGNETISM GENERATION: still lacking in a lot of areas when it comes to her mutation, eunkyung won’t be the last to admit that she is nowhere near as great as the electromagnetic manipulators of the past. whilst they could generate large electromagnetic fields, including electric and magnetic fields, that carry on for miles and last for years and also last for years, eunkyung is lucky if she can generate a field of either for that reaches more than ten feet and lasts longer than fifteen minutes.

WEAKNESSES.

TIME: especially with her electromagnetic generation and detection, eunkyung needs a good amount of time to be able to to generate a proper electromagnetic field and even longer to be able to determine the size of electromagnetic fields, whether or not they’re hidden, and whether or not it’s a threat — with each discovery taking more time to acquire.

MOLTEN METAL: her magnetism does not work on molten metal as the metal loses its magnetic properties once it becomes molten; rendering her mutation practically useless. it’s something that she discovered during one of the many tests the scientists at the school forced her to endure.

DISTANCE: as her ability is still relatively undeveloped, eunkyung is unable to manipulate anything that’s more than fifty feet away from her.

MASS: with the same reason as why she is unable to manipulate electromagnetic fields that aren’t within fifty feet of her, eunkyung is also unable to manipulate objects within electromagnetic fields that are over 120 kilograms. so if you’re looking for someone to absolutely destroy a bridge, you’re going to need look elsewhere.

ANTI ELECTROMAGNETIC FIELD PROJECTION: as with most mutants, there is almost always a mutation that counteracts with her own, and the one that reacts to hers is the mutation of anti electromagnetic field projection. when another mutant has the ability to negate her electromagnetic fields, eunkyung’s mutation is rendered basically useless.

EMOTIONS: there’s no denying that eunkyung is very much controlled by her emotions, which isn’t always a great thing. the perfect example is when her life was in danger back at the school and her mutation reacted to the fear pulsing through her body, causing her to release a magnetic field around her and her opponent which allowed the metal wall of the arena behind her to react and spike out in multiple different directions, one spike piercing right through her stomach and into her opponents throat.

[manekicho28]

The Luckiest ALT in Japan

久しぶり！

So, two months without internet during which I welcomed by husband to Japan and we became involved in my first weekly D+D campaign, followed by a whole lot of catching up on internet laziness and recently a lot of traveling, and I’m back! Hey’der!

I was reading through my past blog entries. I’m really glad I wrote them, so that where I am now in my life in Japan, I can remember that time of uncertainty and anxiety. I’m happy to announce that I love my placement, and I’m still baffled that me, a person who told the interviewers that I like Japan because of Japan’s garbage, could have ended up in what I truly believe is the best placement in all of Japan, and possibly the most magical place on Earth.

Nope, I’m not in Tokyo Disneyland, I’m in this place:

Even as we speak, it’s snowing! :D

So, I’d like to apologize that my content won’t contain any entertaining griping about  my placement, but I’m even more resolved in my aspirations to stay for the full 5 years if I’m invited to.

Without further ado,

And with what will surely make any other ALTs reading cringe:

I am the luckiest ALT in Japan. I have three reasons.

1. I’m surrounded by amazing people!

I’m truly lucky to have been placed in a town with three other ALTs! Despite how unknown this area is, it’s big and populous enough to now have 4 ALTs. There are two small neighbor towns that were recently joined into the slightly larger town. Two of the ALTs teach at the elementary and junior high schools in that area, another teaches at the elem. and jh. schools in the slightly larger town, and almost all the students from those schools will go to high school in the slightly larger town if they don’t decide to go to a bigger school in a bigger city. 

So, because of the similar interests and close proximity of everyone in the area, we all decided to start a D+D campaign! We included another ALT who lives about an hours drive away from us, which has only made my home network grow.

Another amazing thing about these ALTs: they’re all extremely involved. They all hold or have held positions on the Hokkaido Association of JETs board, which is a prefectural social connection that holds social events, conferences, and English  summer camps. So, right away when I arrived, everyone else on the board would see me or see where I was placed and ask, “Are you Chris?!” They had heard of me from the other ALTs in my area who I had spoken to.

So this is awesome because I feel right at home, and the ice was broken because of my predecessors and now I feel really close to these people even if I barely get to see them. But it also puts quite a pressure on me to also get involved! I already wanted to, so rather than pressure I should say encouragement. I have to keep up the team-spirit and represent for my area! 

On top of the ALTs around me, I have amazing JTEs! Most of which happily work with me and help me to create exciting, interactive classes where I get to do more than be just a human tape recorder. They all speak very good English so communicating is very easy!!

I even attended one of my JTEs’ weddings! Actually, it was pretty funny because my JTE married another English teacher, who invited his ALT. 

2. I commute everywhere by train!

This was my one request for my placement. Ok, that’s a lie, I wrote Kansai because I like the dialect. But what I really wanted was to be anywhere where I could commute by train and I wouldn’t need a car. And I have that! 

Granted, there aren’t many trains, so timing is very important because if I miss a train home, I may have to wait around for three hours before the next one comes.  Also, the last train home is at 8pm so that makes for a lot of either inconveniencing someone, paying for a taxi, or calling it a night early. 

BUT! It hasn’t been such a big problem. I’m really happy for the opportunity to stay in shape by walking to and from train stations and getting to start my day off right by sleeping on the train ride into town, reading a book, messaging my friends, or did I mention sleeping? Those extra five minutes are magical. 

An added benefit to this is I take the train with my students! Which means I have been able to form special bonds with the ten or so students who ride the train with me every day. What I mean by that is I’ll call them out when I’m in their class and say, “Hey! My train buddy!” and they get flustered and everyone laughs. It’s good fun... maybe!

3. My main school is pretty bad-ass

So, in this little unknown town that I live in is a high school that’s apparently so famous for its baseball team and brass band club that students will come from as far as Sapporo and stay in a boarding house to be able to be a member. 

But it’s not just those two clubs, all the clubs are extremely intense! This makes me very proud to be a part of this school, but at the same time it has its drawbacks. For example, the students are extremely committed to their clubs.... obviously, you can’t be one of the best in the nation if you skip out on club activities to practice English with Chris!

But mostly, it’s really amazing to see what these students are capable of, and going to their games and concerts is exhilarating. I’m so proud to be a part of this school.

There are a bunch of other reasons I’m happy to be in this placement, here are a few more:

There are 5 different supermarkets in town

I live down the street from the best ramen shop in the entire country

I stay at my main school 4 days of the week, and I only have 3 other schools besides that.

There’s a pretty great pizza restaurant in town.

There are 3 party streets in town with a ton of izakaya.

I am the first in my apartment, so it was clean and fresh and new when I arrived!

The art teacher is super cool and I have a huge crush on her.

Almost every one of my teachers has been extremely kind and helpful since I arrived.

I love my placement. And it makes it pretty awkward when I’m talking to someone who doesn’t, because I really have to dig to find complaints. Any time I’m not super thrilled about something, I remind myself about all the really lucky, wonderful things about my placement. 

One thing I’m worried about is, for as close as I’ve gotten with the ALTs around me, three of the four will be completing their JET experience in July and either going home to America or moving somewhere else in Japan. That also means getting 2 brand new ones in my area. I still don’t know very much about Japan and nothing at all about owning a car in Japan, so what kind of senpai will I be? Anyway, that’s a totally different blog entry for another time.

Thanks for reading! Next time I’d like to tell you about some things I’m doing to prepare to take the JLPT N3 in July!

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 8th September 2019

Top 10

At number-one for a second week is Ed Sheeran with “Take Me Back to London” featuring Stormzy, Aitch and Jaykae, which surprises me since it was such a race to #1 last week, where really anyone could get it, although that remix did let the song stand its ground for two weeks, which must mean something. The song’s not great though, but it’s listenable, I suppose, so I’m not complaining that this could see longevity in comparison to say, Lewis Capaldi.

What I thought would be at #1 this week is actually the runner-up spot, “Higher Love” by Kygo and Whitney Houston keeping pretty stable at the number-two spot. Like Mark said on Billboard BREAKDOWN, this week pre-Post Malone album bomb does not matter, so don’t expect a long or busy episode here.

Thanks to the release of Aitch’s mixtape, AitcH2O, the lead single, “Taste (Make it Shake)” is up three spaces to number-three, which is a new peak, to my dismay because this song is incredibly dull.

AJ Tracey’s “Ladbroke Grove” is up a single position to number-four this week.

This means that “3 Nights” by Dominic Fike has had a slight drop down one spot to number-five.

What I’m pretty sure is the Love Island theme song, “Sorry” by Joel Corry featuring uncredited vocals from Hayley May, reaches a new peak up a space to number-six.

Also reaching a new peak is unfortunately the utterly mindless garbage from Lil Tecca, “RAN$OM”, up two spaces to number-seven, probably taking a boost thanks to the debut mixtape.

Sam Smith is sticking at number-eight with “How Do You Sleep?”.

Up a single chart position to number-nine is “So High” by MIST and Fredo.

Finally, to round off the top 10, we have a new top 10 entry, which is from Young T & Bugsey with Aitch, the rising hit “Strike a Pose”, up two spaces to #10 after more than 10 weeks on the chart. It’s Aitch’s third UK Top 10 hit and Young T & Bugsey’s first to reach these heights.

Climbers

There really isn’t much here to talk about, but there are a few notable climbers and a couple more notable fallers this week, although once again it’s a slow, unimportant chart week prior to the impact of Post Malone, so first of all, “Dance Monkey” by Tones and I is looking to be a sleeper hit and replicate its international success up nine spaces to #31 off of the debut, similarly to the trajectory of “3 Nights” except being an exponentially worse song. Our second large increase in the ten-space boost for Sam Feldt’s “Post Malone” featuring RAMI, becoming Feldt’s second UK Top 20 entry and RAMI’s first. The third and final increase here is Headie One’s “Both” as it leaps five spaces within the top 20 to #13; I’m predicting it’ll reach the top 10 sooner than you think.

Fallers

There are more of these than I expected in all honesty but going down the list these are all pretty inevitable drops, and will probably be out of the chart next week: #1 hit “Beautiful People” by Ed Sheeran featuring Khalid tanks a whopping 16-space crash down to #19 thanks to streaming cuts, “Lover” by Taylor Swift falls flat after the album loses impact down six to #22, “I Don’t Care” by Ed Sheeran featuring Justin Bieber slowly but surely continues its eventual drop during the tail-end of its overlong chart run, down seven this week to #27, paralleling Lil Nas X’s “Old Town Road” featuring Billy Ray Cyrus also down seven to #29 as the phenomenon starts to wear off, another pair of identical drops for massive Summer hits zooming down the charts as both “bad guy” by Billie Eilish and “Hold Me While You Wait” by Lewis Capaldi drop six spots to #34 and #35 respectively, “The Man” by Taylor Swift collapses 15 positions off the debut to #36 and that’s all.

Dropouts & Returning Entries

Starting with the dropouts, we have only four here, which is still more than most weeks to be honest, as “Cruel Summer” by Taylor Swift drops off from the debut at #27 as expected, “Never Really Over” either suffers from streaming cuts or has just imploded on itself (Which is believable considering Katy’s track record) out from #32, “Money in the Grave” by Drake featuring Rick Ross definitely struggles from streaming cuts out from #36 and finally, D-Block Europe’s “Home” lasted a lot longer than it really had any right to, out from #39 after somehow lasting about nine weeks in the top 40.

We also have a returning entry here, which is “You Need to Calm Down” by Taylor Swift, which would have returned with an album cut if it hadn’t been less successful than “Cruel Summer”–UK chart rules mean that only three songs from one album can chart at a time. It’s back at #28, which is an oddly high return for its 11th week. Otherwise, there isn’t anything to cover other than the new arrivals, although I should comment on the album bomb outside of the UK Top 40 and instead occurring within the top 75, which honestly shocked me as I expected there would at least be some impact higher than #42 for Lana Del Rey’s #1 album, Norman Fricking Rockwell. Regardless, I feel obligated to say the Sublime cover and her biggest single in years “Doin’ Time” returned to #42, the title track is at #44 and “Frick It I Love You” debuted at #59. Now, we can move onto our three new arrivals, however...

NEW ARRIVALS

#37 – “Lalala” – Y2K and bbno$

Produced by Y2K – Peaked at #6 in the Czech Republic and #55 in the US

I’ve already talked about this song... in-depth... in June. To put it bluntly, I’m a fan of bbno$ and felt the need to point out this song’s existence as it was gaining traction on release week as a Featured Single on the episode dated 23rd of June (Man, I haven’t done one of those in a while – although there is a new JPEGMAFIA album coming out soon...). If you’re interested more, you should probably read that, but to summarise my thoughts, this is a really fun, catchy banger that reeks of a certain smugness that should be irritating but is self-aware to the point of ridiculousness. If a song could be called “overly meta”, it’s probably this one. Bbno$’ charisma and delivery is really snot-nosed and nasal and could get annoying, since it is pretty tiresome, in fact, it’s soured on me since, but Y2K’s cheap Latin-tinged production is just as vibrant. I’m also disappointed that bbno$ does not in fact say “wristicle” in the chorus. My favourite song from bbno$ is “nursery” with Lentra, if you like this one. Sorry this is too short, but I’ve already discussed it, you can read it here. Next.

#25 – “Ride It” – Regard

Produced by Regard

...

I have never been so happy to see an absolute nobody chart with a song I’ve never heard before. Let me explain: Do you remember, no pun intended, the late 2000s and early 2010s club boom? There are a lot of fantastic songs that came out of the pop music during that time, and I’m glad there’s been some sort of revisionism of them amongst music communities because some of these are awesome and always have been. One of the most commonly brought up, most popular and definitely one of the best of these dance-pop singles is a song featuring Lil Wayne called “Down”, in which he ends his verse with this, may I add:

And honestly, I’m down like the economy

Listen, it’s one of my favourite songs of all time. I could gush on and on about how that song is near-perfect, but it’s not the time. The dude who is singing on that song isn’t a one-hit wonder like Iyaz, known for the iconic “Replay”, but “Down” hit #1 in the States and despite prolonged success in the UK ever since 2004 with R&B songs, he disappeared entirely after 2012, funnily enough after making a song with Nicki Minaj called “2012 (It Ain’t the End)”. It very much was for the dude’s career, at least in the pop climate, and the dude was talented but admittedly he could only really make one song that was even close to the heights of “Down”... and that was “Down”. Don’t get me wrong, he has a couple amazing singles but none of them pop as well. Maybe it’s J-Remy and Bobby Bass on production, maybe it’s the transcendent guest verse from Weezy, I don’t know, but even his direct follow-up, “Remember the Name”, was just “Down” but so much worse it’s nonsensical. After doing a tiny bit of research on this new single, I found out it’s not an original break-out song by an unknown singer called Regard as I thought it would be. Welcome back, Jay Sean.

The original “Ride It” is a really sweet 2008 Indian-tinged R&B tune with very Timbaland-esque production, and it’s a pretty great single, with very tribal percussion, a Kanye reference and yet somehow it’s still really smooth. It peaked at #11 in the UK and was massive in Russia for some reason. There’s also a rap verse that sounds pretty great, and is the only part in Jay Sean’s career for all I know where he sounded explicitly British to be honest, but the dude is English. The instrumental bridge between the rap verse and final chorus is ethereal, really great stuff, and Jay Sean sounds pretty fantastic on it as well. I didn’t expect the relaxed sex jam to be the EDM remix, especially since it’s nearly Autumn so there’s not as much audience for that... but it’s honestly not a bad remix at all. This is Regard’s first ever UK Top 40 hit, he’s a DJ who released a couple flop singles, and Jay Sean’s eleventh, albeit his first uncredited appearance on the chart, and it’s not a bad house remix at all, to be honest, although it is a tad generic with the typical house-pop drum pattern and drowned-out, pitch-shifted vocals against some synth loops and keys. The vocal mixing is shoddy but it is a remix of a 2008 R&B song that probably does not have an acapella vocal track out there on YouTube, it’s not going to sound perfect by any means, and hell, Jay sounds great against the bouncy 808s here, and while there is a pretty non-existent build-up, that drop, again despite being very weak, is reminiscent of a very 80s synth tone, which I like as it makes a song that would have definitely worked as a hi-NRG track back in the day sound pretty similar to how it probably would have sounded if made so. Yeah, this is pretty cool, I’m just ecstatic to see Jay Sean on the charts again. The drop also reminds me of the chorus “Only Human” by Jonas Brothers. Just a stray observation.

#11 – “Circles” – Post Malone

Produced by Frank Dukes, Louis Bell and Post Malone – Peaked at #2 in Ireland and #7 in the US

Oh, yeah, the bigger story should have been the top 20 debut for Post Malone’s new single “Circles” straight off of his third album, Hollywood’s Bleeding, but I decided to ramble on about Jay Sean. I’m honestly not particularly interested enough to write a lot about this one, and I didn’t want to spoil myself by listening to another single before the album but I have yet to hear the record in its entirety so here we are. This particular single has been quite polarising from what I can gather and apparently it’s an acoustic pop-rock jam which seems promising, although I’m not entirely sure Post can even try and hit the heights of “Goodbyes” with Young Thug – in fact, that album better be good because not only does it feature “Goodbyes” but also “Sunflower” with Swae Lee and “Wow.”, two of his best ever songs released in his career so far. It’s produced by Post and all of his right-hand men, and is his eleventh UK Top 40 hit, and, well...  it definitely isn’t awful, in fact, I do appreciate a lot of this sonically. The acoustic guitars drowned out by typical kick-heavy indie-rock percussion and wiry synths as well as Post’s really subdued vocal delivery initially that somehow peaks in the mix just as much as his more intense, reverb-heavy signature Post Malone warbling during the chorus, it doesn’t sound bad. It just feels very much out of Post’s element. He can do pop songwriting, and when it’s just bass and drum in the start of the second verse, that sounds great, but the second verse is also fitted to a trap beat the way “Better Now” is, except this song doesn’t have that heavy trap beat to elevate it, but a weaksauce indie pop beat that is compressed to hell and doesn’t sound great, especially due to really crappy mixing overall. This isn’t bad at all, but incredibly disappointing coming off of the other singles.

Conclusion

There’s not much to judge off of here and while I’d love to give the song with more novelty Best of the Week, the song really isn’t as good as “Lalala” so bbno$ and Y2K are getting Best of the Week, with Worst of the Week going to Post Malone for “Circles”, which is just a really underwhelming single. Oh, and Jay Sean of the Week goes to DJ Regard for “Ride It”, although I don’t think that title will be coming back anytime soon. Follow me on Twitter @cactusinthebank for more musical ramblings and I’ll see you next week!

[thriving-imperfection]

How I did it (Part 1:My Philosophy)

By Korreain Johnson Recently I have reached my 30 pound milestone in my weightloss journey. When I started this journey in April, I was out of shape and weighed 191 pounds. Now it’s August and I am a lean 161. So now the obvious has begun to happen: I’m noticeably slimmer, my clothes have gotten baggy, and people are curious how I lost the weight. Before you read any further, I want you to know this: There is nothing magical or special about me or what I did. I had a slow metabolism, I was very out of shape and sedentary, and I had just come out of three straight years of having 3 kids all by c section and I was left weak, sluggish, and suffering from diastasis recti (a separation of the abdominal muscles due to pressure being applied to them…in my case, pressure from three straight years of childbearing). I didn’t take any “magic” pills or anything extreme to get results. I worked for it. So if you came here to learn about a miracle, sorry, that didn’t happen. However, if you want to hear about the work I put in, keep reading.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a personal trainer, professional athlete, dietician, nor physician. Please consult your doctor about any new diet or exercise regimen that you’re planning to try to ensure optimum safety. What worked for me may not work for you and may not even be safe for you. Know your body and listen to your body.

MIND GAMES: The first thing that needs to change in your weight loss journey is the way you think. You’re much more likely to be successful and maintain your desired weight or size if you change your mentality first. How do I think to keep myself going? I had to stop thinking that this was all about me “looking good”. I mean, sure, I want to be slimmer and feel sexier, but those sort of goals are pretty frivolous and can set you up for failure. If your only reason for eating right and exercising is to have a hot body you’ll never be satisfied. Every day that you get up and don’t look like your “goals” you will be discouraged because you’re not yet seeing the results. And if you reach your goal, what happens if your perceptions of beauty change as society’s standards of beauty change? One day you’ll want a big booty, the next day you’ll want a slimmer figure. And eventually, no matter how hot you may become, you will get old if you’re blessed with a long life. Things will turn gray, sag and wrinkle up despite your efforts to slow the aging process. So what will be your motivation then?

You have to accept that you are making a LIFESTYLE CHANGE. You can’t just be in it to look hot. Contrary to what social media would suggest, life isn’t about taking awesome selfies with a sexy body. Your purpose for making this LIFESTYLE change is to IMPROVE YOUR QUALITY OF LIFE. Eat right because you want to spend your life healthy instead of sickly. Exercise so you can have fun without being easily worn out. Make this change so you have energy to play with your kids, increase your chances of living longer, sleep better, and dare I say it…HAVE BETTER SEX! All of these things are way better reasons to make a lasting change in your life and you’ll see the results more quickly than you’ll achieve the photoshopped image that you’re hoping to obtain.

So if we’re looking at this as being a lifestyle change, that means we’re thinking long-term. You’re not going on a diet just to fit in a bridesmaids dress or a bathing suit. You are changing the way you think about yourself, the way you eat, and your level of activity. You are making changes that you’re hoping to carry on for the rest of your life. If you don’t think that way, you’re likely to stop eating right and exercising and you’ll end up right back where you started…or worse. So before you read any further, decide that you want to change your life and be the best version of you that you can be, not just getting a summer body.

CHANGE HOW YOU THINK ABOUT YOURSELF If you’re thinking short-term, you’re likely to think like this: “I’m too fat” “I hate how I look” “I would be happy if I could just be a size ____”. Short sightedness makes you critical of yourself. There’s something wrong with you and you need to “fix” it in order to be happy, satisfied, or loved. LIES! Change your thinking to long-term and show yourself some love even now. Don’t diet because you’re “fat” and you hate how you look. Change your eating habits because you love yourself too much to keep feeding yourself garbage. Become more active because you love yourself and your loved ones too much to send yourself to an early grave. You’re not “fixing” your body because you hate it, you’re loving your body enough to take care of it.

CHANGE THE WAY YOU THINK ABOUT FOOD Food has two purposes: 1) To provide you with the necessary nutrients for proper bodily function and 2) To provide you with adequate energy to perform those basic bodily functions and to move around and work. That’s it. Food is not for comfort. Food doesn’t make a late night movie more thrilling. Food doesn’t make a celebration more exciting. Food doesn’t take away the pain of a break up. Food doesn’t get rid of boredom. Food doesn’t make you less awkward in social settings. Food merely provides nourishment and energy. Do we enjoy food? Of course! But we must remember the primary purpose of food and keep that at the forefront of our food choices. You can buy a car that looks great, but that wouldn’t really matter if it didn’t get you where you needed to go safely. Food is the same way. Some of it does nothing for you nutritionally and can actually cause health problems. So here and now, decide that food is not a primary source of pleasure in your life. Don’t look to food to make you feel better or make you happy. Food is fuel, and if it happens to taste great too, awesome! Now does that mean you should only eat bland raw veggies or something? Absolutely Not! Eating healthy doesn’t mean surrendering all delicious food, but it might mean trying some new recipes and changing some old favorites to make them more nutritious. Eating healthy should be your lifestyle, but every now and then you can still enjoy your guilty pleasure foods.

Think of your eating habits as your life in general: You should spend a great deal of time doing what is necessary and important like working, going to school, doing chores, paying bills etc. These things may not necessarily be fun or enjoyable, but they are crucial for a functional life. A small portion of your week may be spent having fun or devoted to hobbies and pastimes, and the more exciting those things are, the less likely you’re able to do them frequently. (You can’t go to theme parks or vacation every week). The same thing applies to food. You have to spend most of your days eating healthy and controlling your portion sizes. The foods you eat may not be that exciting, but remember, you’re eating because it’s necessary to be nourished, not because you need excitement from food. (Sidebar: This lifestyle change is to IMPROVE YOUR QUALITY OF LIFE. It’s not mandatory that food be exciting, food should be the fuel you need to go out and live an exciting life! While making this fitness lifestyle change, make sure you’re not neglecting the rest of your life. Eating right and exercising improves your life, so make sure you’re living a fulfilling life outside of eating right and exercising. Read, go out with friends, draw closer to God, go back to school, show love: those are the things that life is truly made of.) The exciting foods that you love that are rich in flavor, calories, carbohydrates, fat, salt, and sugar can be eaten, but not often. Those foods are to be treated like “girls night” , “birthday parties”, and other enjoyable things we do. They’re special and we don’t do them as often. The fattier the food, the less often it should be eaten. That triple decker burger, large fry, large soda, and half a cheesecake should be treated like a vacation out of the country. It should happen rarely.

So essentially, you should get in the habit of eating healthily all the time, treating yourself to not so healthy things occasionally, and rarely eating things that look like a pile of diabetes with a side of heart disease.

CHANGE THE WAY YOU THINK ABOUT EXERCISE When you think about yourself exercising, are your feelings positive or negative? If you’re like most people, it’s probably negative feelings that you’re experiencing. Why? Do you see images in your mind of sweat dripping everywhere and fat flapping around disgracefully as you struggle to breathe and almost pass out? Well, that’s how I used to think of exercise. I had gotten out of shape after having children and I just knew that I wouldn’t be successful at exercising. My body was heavy from the excess weight and I hated how it felt to jiggle all over the place. I hated the discomfort of being short of breath just to quit before a routine was over. Well, here’s some things I had to adjust about my thinking regarding exercise:

1. You’re a beginner; exercise like one. I got frustrated because I couldn’t exercise long without getting exhausted. That’s okay. Acknowledge that you’re out of shape and that you haven’t lived an active life. Facing the truth makes us more realistic with our expectations. Start walking first. Take the stairs instead of the elevator. Play with your kids at the playground instead of watching, anything to get you moving more than usual. You may not see any dramatic results, but you’re slowly conditioning your body to be more active. When you start an exercise regimen, start with something easy. Don’t jump straight into P90X or Insanity workouts. You’re unlikely to finish those rigorous routines in the beginning and it may make you feel like a failure when really it was too soon to start something that extreme. I started walking first, then I started doing a few jumping jacks and squats, then eventually I started doing Zumba.

2.No excuses What’s keeping you from working out? You don’t have time? You’re just too out of shape? You hate the gym? You don’t have the energy? I had tons of reasons why I wasn’t exercising and none of them were good and I’m pretty sure yours aren’t good either (unless your doctor has given you a reason). There’s always time to workout, but do you want to make the time? It might mean getting up early, staying up later, being more creative with planning activities to keep your kids busy, or investing in pre- workout drinks to give you energy, but an excuse is just an excuse, not a viable reason to continue a sedentary life.

3. Think Long-term. Remember I said this before? Well, it still applies here. You’re not exercising just to reach a short term goal. When you’re old, saggy and gray it will still be important to exercise to stay in good health. You’re not exercising to get a hot body…a hot body is just a side effect of consistent exercise, but first you must learn to be consistent, and if your goal is almost unobtainable, you’re likely to quit before you see results. So focus on the long-term. “I want to exercise to IMPROVE MY QUALITY OF LIFE”. Well, guess what, even a small step in the right direction is improvement. Every day that you get up and get your blood pumping, you’re winning and succeeding…and getting a little bit closer to those sexy side effects that I mentioned.

4. Exercise can and should be fun. No one likes doing things simply because they have to. Our lives are filled with so many “necessary evils” that adding one more may seem unbearable. One way to stay motivated to exercise is making it fun; then it’s viewed as a hobby and not a chore. How do you make exercising fun? Get a workout partner, find a routine that you enjoy, and reward your consistency. I have two workout partners: my two oldest girls Jazilyn and Jilyana. Every day they look forward to jumping around and doing Zumba (a routine that I enjoy) with mommy. When I don’t feel like exercising, I can depend on them to say “Dance with me mommy!” And how can I say no? It’s not only about my fitness, but it’s an opportunity to bond with my children and be an example of an active lifestyle for them. Also, I chose to do Zumba because it knocked out many of my excuses: I don’t like the gym; I can stay home and look up Zumba workouts on YouTube. I didn’t have the right exercise clothes to be seen in public; I can do Zumba at home. If the weather is bad, I can still do it at home. If there’s no one to watch my kids; I can do it at home with them. Exercise is boring, but Zumba is fun. Zumba is dancing and dancing is exercise, therefore I’ve made exercising fun. Now I’m at the point where I have to force myself to take a rest day so my body can recover properly.

So, this was part 1 of How I did it, my philosophy of weightloss and how to go about it mentally. In my next two posts I will tell you what I physically did to shed the pounds and what you should expect as you embark on your own weightloss journey.

[the-vaporverse]

Starless Horizon RP File #24

(Vela’s part in italics.)

Dritz was awake much earlier than before; either his body's response to the threat of further tickling, or their very enjoyable evening (so very enjoyable...) had energised him. He stretched out languidly, relishing the fact that they would not need to be out of bed for a while yet, his eyes bright and not at all sleepy.

"Goood morning," he sang, beaming and running his fingers through his hair, which was wild from it drying messy, but silky from the last night's bath.

As usual, Vela had awoken some hours earlier and begun using the datapad, but instead of researching anything random of interest, she was looking up more information about repairs on large ships. She was absorbing the material quickly, but knew she would prefer to be shown how to do it. Even if she had learned a lot by reading, she didn't want to stop being taught by Dritz unless she knew she could already do it all herself with supervision.

Fortunately for him, Dritz was up much earlier than before, with no tickling needed. Vela thought she wouldn't necessarily use the tactic again so soon, but it was something to keep in mind for the future. She set the datapad down, signing "good morning" before she slid over to him, pressing her body against his and kissing him. Thoughts of last night ran through her head, and how she would like to do the same again already, but they might not have that much time.

[Did you sleep well?] She tilted her head, eyeing his messy hair, then got up and took a brush from the bathroom, wetting it down with water from the faucet before returning to comb his hair out for him so it fell the way it usually did.  [I'm sure we'll have another good day at work. Then... tomorrow night is when you go shopping with Fera, isn't it?] She couldn't stop the little frown that crossed her face then. As much as she tried to forget, it kept coming up.

Dritz grinned, cuddling Vela close to him until she slipped away. "I slept so well. Which... Yeah, definitely your doing," he said slyly, watching her wander away, returning with... A comb?

He relaxed against her gentle hands with a quiet chirp. Something about the act was so tender and intimate, he felt strangely vulnerable, but not in a disconcerting way.

"It is indeed. I'm... Looking forward to iiit?" Dritz's voice continually went up in pitch, exaggerating the question and giving an equally exaggerated shrug. "Heh, I'm sure it'll be nice. It's a start towards us maybe becoming friends. Maybe."

Vela didn't agree it would be nice, or think Fera would want to become friends with Dritz, but she nodded her head to agree with him anyway. She didn't want to bring his optimism down, despite her considerable reservations. They dressed and prepared for their day, spending it in the same way as the previous one, which settled into a comfortable sort of pattern until that particular evening arrived.

Dritz and Vela met with Orion and Fera just outside the main shopping district at the agreed upon time, and there was certainly a bit of discomfort on all sides. Vela could tell that Dritz at least seemed hopeful, though everyone else was wary. Fera, in particular, had a sharp look for her and a disinterested glance at Dritz, making her frown again.

"Hey there. Guess we're swapping for a little while," Orion greeted them and joked lightly, though it earned him a glare from Fera in turn. "I, uh, understand Vela wants to teach me some sign language. So we'll just be doing that for a couple hours, and meet you back here again then. You still alright with that?"

"Promise me Orion will be safe," Fera suddenly cut in, an intense gaze fixed on Dritz. "Or we're not doing this at all."

Confused, Vela looked between them. What would the prince even mean by that? [Maybe I should get the same promise that Dritz will be safe with you,] she signed in a bit of annoyance, making Fera's eyes widen in alarm as he stepped back from her.

Dritz's smile for Orion's little jest quickly fell when Fera implied whatever it was he was implying about Vela. He was determined to make the whole arrangement work, and had made sure to take a change of clothes (a rather fetching set of bright floral trousers and a plain, but acidic green shirt) and have a very quick wash, to ensure it was clear he was making an effort. The prince would surely appreciate that much.

He bit back a smirk as he realised what Vela had said, but he put a gentle hand on her arm and looked at Fera, "Ori's gunna be fine, you have our guarantee. Why that's a concern, I do not know! But if it makes you feel better, I am positive. Vela would like the same reassurance from you, please. Like you, she's just concerned for her beloved partner." He smiled expectantly at the prince of Coronus, showing him the signs and repeating what they meant.

Fera's look was darkening rapidly, so Orion stepped forward to also put his hand on the Coronal's arm in the same way Dritz had placed his on Vela's. "Listen, no one's going to come back damaged in any way, we all know that. Let's just go and have a good time. That's the whole point." He had all but pleaded with Fera earlier to stay rational and calm about the experience, seeing how tense he was, but still wasn't sure it had done any good.

"Fine," Fera snapped at last, moving away from Orion and toward Dritz instead. "I'm not going to do anything to Dritz. Why would I want to?" His gloating smirk made Orion sigh, but he saw that Vela reluctantly moved over to him, seeming to accept it.

"Right... uh... we're agreed then," Orion said awkwardly, waving a hand toward Dritz and Fera. "We'll see you in a couple hours." In a gentlemanly manner, he ushered Vela away from the shopping district, but couldn't help looking back the same as she did. Fera was staring at Dritz as though he expected something, making Orion sigh quietly before he began to focus on and chat to Vela instead. He could only hope everything went well.

"See you later, have fuuun," Dritz sang, putting a gentle but distant arm around Fera and leading him away towards the first shop, one of the slightly less upmarket stores that sold a lot of more feminine-leaning products. The fashion was mostly human, as they were usually the most common species on a station, with the odd alien influence visible in certain styles. The fabrics were cottony and not at all what Dritz would call interesting, but it made a nice start. He smiled at Fera, "Thanks for coming with me. You look lovely, as always. ... So this is gunna be great! I'm looking forward to getting to know you a bit better. I think we'll have fun."

He lowered his voice, glancing around the shop, "Though I'm actually sure this was a bad place to start, right? So boring. All the fabric is kind of the same, and none of the colours are that bright. But I haven't delved too much; you wanna see what we can find here?"

Completely ignoring the first part of what Dritz said, as he was still trying to convince himself that no harm would befall Orion, Fera slowly began listening once the Chrysalan started talking about the shop he had led them into. It only took a brief glance around for him to see it was not the sort of shop he wanted to be in, and definitely not the sort of shop a prince should be seen in.

"It seems you do know something," he said crisply, glancing around in disdain. "What utter garbage." He wasn't making an effort to modulate his voice the way Dritz was, prompting the clerk to look around in confusion and perhaps a bit of annoyance. Apparently they recognized him, or were otherwise intimidated by his beauty, because they didn't approach.

However, there was something which intrigued him in addition to repulsing him when it came to the shop itself. It was impossible to say why anyone might like the clothing it sold, but it surely had some appeal if it wasn't yet out of business. He wandered around a little while, sneering at most of the items, but did stop to pick up a long white scarf which could be wrapped multiple times to create different styles. The concept was good, but the fabric was not as silky as he might like, or perhaps even sheer, that would be lovely...

"Why does anyone frequent a place such as this?" he asked Dritz with a dramatic sigh, tempted to arrange the scarf on himself to see how it might look, but ultimately tossing it back loosely onto the folded pile it had come from. "Because they have no taste, or no money? Or both? What a horrid life some must lead." This was unfair, but he smirked cruelly, not wanting Dritz to think he had sympathy for anyone so unfortunate as to be tasteless and poor.

"Aw, I wouldn't call it garbage exactly, just... Not to our taste, y'know?" he said, completely delighted that Fera had finally engaged him, even if it was a bit... Standoffish, bordering on rude. It was a start.

He spotted the same scarf that Fera had, a nice enough white number that was entirely too plain for his liking, but would probably make a pretty addition to the prince's wardrobe.

"Hey, c'mon, prince, that's not really fair. People work hard for their UCs, and a lot of them don't want to spend a great deal on clothing. Like, if they're parents, or if they want to save their credits for a new place to live. It can be hard to live well on some of the wages in certain sectors," he murmured, keeping his tone as light as possible, knowing it would be a touchy thing to say.

"So, is white your favourite colour?" he asked, quickly and cheerfully, "It looks great on you, but do you ever go for anything darker, or brighter?"

Though he was listening, Fera was still looking around the shop with narrowed eyes as Dritz spoke. Nothing else caught his attention, and he turned toward the exit with an elegant shrug.

"It's not my problem if they want to look cheap and awful," he replied, unconcerned over whether it was truly "fair" or not. "I would think it was their fault for not having the money to spend on everything they might need or want." He was also quick to talk about the new subject before Dritz could complain about what he had said again.

"No, it's not." For a moment he glanced about the area, then started walking in the direction which he remembered as leading toward the more expensive shops. "I don't have one. White is the traditional color of Coronal royalty, I'm not allowed to wear anything else. And it just so happens I don't want to, it would be too far beneath me." He determinedly made his way into the nearest shop, trying not to think of all the times he had been tempted by golden or soft pastel fabrics.

However, there were plenty of those on display in this shop. It was still not the finest quality, but a good step above what they had previously been looking at, richer in fabrics and colors. "What about you?" he asked abruptly, spinning on his heel and examining Dritz closely. "What is your favorite? You are always wearing a different color each day. Do colors mean anything to you? Or nothing?" Without realizing, his sudden intense interest in the answers had made him all but completely drop his typical haughty mannerisms and way of speaking.

Dritz looked curiously at Fera. "But maybe you could make another colour more royal. I mean, Coronal commoners must look to their royalty to set the trends? Maybe? Obviously Chrysala is governed differently, but I feel like I'd look at royals as the leaders in fashion. Wouldn't it be cool to be the one who changed it all?"

He'd been following fairly closely, picking up the odd garment in the new shop. It was much more interesting stuff there, and Dritz had picked up a yellow vest with ruffled shoulders when Fera turned to him.

"Oh..." he smiled with warmth and surprise at the prince's tone. "Heh, I don't think I really have a favourite, but I like yellow and blue a lot. Oh, and pink. Like your hair!" He hesitated, wondering whether to share his thoughts in any depth.

"I dunno if you know that Chrysala's historically been a heavily industrial world, and fashion was not something that was introduced until shortly before my parents' generation. Everything was built for work and practicality... So, for me, colourful things make me happy because they sort of represent change? Like a show of personality we never used to do. Sounds weird now I say it out loud..."

Well, while the prince's guard was down, he could maybe let his own...

Fera actually paused in his inspection of a white skirt set with lace panels to slowly turn toward Dritz as he spoke. "No," he simply said, voice flat. "I'm not changing it. It isn't done. There is no breaking of tradition on Coronus."

For quite a while then he was silent, thoughts in a slight turmoil. Of course it wasn't done, and he really had no desire to wear anything but white. There was no breaking with tradition. Yet he knew the sort of trouble he could land in for being with Orion. That was a break with tradition he couldn't deny himself.

When Dritz began talking about colors, some of Fera's iciness thawed again. "Those are good enough for you, I suppose. Perhaps a darker yellow would suit your skin tone better. How do you feel about orange? That would work well too." He literally cringed at the ruffled shoulders on the vest the Chrysalan had picked up, taking it out of his hands and putting it back before selecting one in darker yellow with a sleeker shape. "You don't need extra fabric sticking out, with your sort of frame," he said, without a hint of malice at all.

The information about colors was more interesting than he would let on. "How could a society last so long with fashion? I honestly don't understand some species. But at least you have it now. So I suppose you are saying you have a loud and disordered sort of personality?" he suggested with a smirk. "Some of your color choices are so random. You could do with choosing more that are complementary."

"You're not on Coronus right now," Dritz said slyly, as though trying to coax a friend into having another drink, or another sweet.

He smiled widely when Fera swapped the shirt he'd been looking at. "Thanks, that's... Well, I'd never really thought of it that way. Orange is good too," he said, examining the replacement. It already looked somehow more pleasing against his skin where he held it, and the fabric was the soft, thin sort that would be both comfortable and flattering. Fera was much, much nicer than he let on, apparently.

"Complimentary? Like... To me? Or each other?" he asked, seeming genuinely confused. He did chuckle as he added, "I like to think of it more as a... Bright and friendly personality. But you could say loud and disordered too, I guess!"

With a quick glance at what Fera was holding, he nodded, "That's nice. Hey, you said about Orion's clothes before... What sort of things would you put him in?"

"Someone might see me," Fera murmured, already halfway convinced he was going to buy a piece of clothing that wasn't white that very day. Someone might see him with Orion as well, and wouldn't that be worse than getting caught wearing a different color?

"That one is much better," he said emphatically. "And I mean to each other. Some of your colors have a tendency to... clash. Do whatever you like, of course, but I'm only giving advice. I suppose if it's meaningful to you then it doesn't really matter."

The question about Orion gave him pause, and distracted him again as he glanced around the shop. "Something better than a horrible greasy jumpsuit," he finally said with a shudder. "Here." He indicated a nice pair of slacks in dark brown and a soft woven sweater in navy blue. "Along these lines. More of a traditional human look. But everything nicely tailored to his exact measurements; he has beautiful legs which..." Seeming to realize what he was saying, a building warmth heated up his face. "Which I'm not telling you about."

On the defense again, Fera made a dramatic dismissive gesture. "Don't ask me for advice on your Vela. She's helpless, with those dark shapeless clothes most of the time. I couldn't even think what to recommend to someone like her."

"I like your advice," the Chrysalan said cheerfully, folding the shirt over one arm (he was definitely getting that) and smiling, "Thanks, Fera, I knew you'd be the man in the know on this subject." He wasn't, however, very sure on what the prince meant by colours clashing. Perhaps he could try limiting the colours on his clothing... Maybe not wearing his heavily patterned stuff with other heavily patterned stuff? Or something?

"Aw, that's really nice, I can see Ori in those!" he said, touching the sleeve of the jumper, "But I like his greasy overalls! They suit him a lot, but I wonder if that's the old Chrysalan way talking,  what with it being work wear..."

He chose not to comment on his friends legs, beautiful as the probably were. Fera wouldn't like it.

"She does look best out of the dark, shapeless clothes, it's true," Dritz mumbled slyly. "And I wasn't gunna ask, she looks perfect no matter what. But answer me this; what's your problem with her? She's a lovely person. You're civil enough with me, and we're having a great time, at least I am, so... Why don't you like her? She and I are similar, in a way."

Fera shrugged off Dritz's thanks and praise alike, though he might usually do a bit of gloating at the very least. He still felt focused on thinking about the clothes on display around him, particularly the ones he had chosen for Orion. Perhaps he might come back later and purchase them... not that it was a romantic gesture or anything. Which was why he couldn't do that in Dritz's presence, obviously.

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion at hearing the Chrysalan's first statement about the Vela, thinking it was certainly something he wouldn't wish to know about. Then he took a step back out of sudden fear; he had forgotten that she was likely controlling Dritz somehow.

"I... have no problem with her. Of course not. But I don't think the two of you are similar at all. She... she..." Out of a terrible and horrified curiosity, he moved closer again to stare hard at Dritz's face. "You're... alright, aren't you? She isn't listening through your ears? Or speaking through your mouth right now? She must have a range; hopefully we are out of it." They had better be, he realized, or else he had likely just sealed his fate.

Dritz's eyes widened in confusion when he was faced with Fera so close to him. What in space was he talking about? His expression was hard to read; a mix of concern, maybe fear, frustration? The prince of Coronus was surely feeling none of those things, but then why would he ask such a thing?

"Fera," he said gently, "Are you alright? That... Wow, I can't even pinpoint just one of the reasons that's a crazy thing to ask. I'm fine. Vela is just my partner, not some sort of... Remote puppeteer??" The idea was so ridiculous that he started snickering, he would definitely have to tell Vela about her somehow controlling his ears and mouth.

"I'm fine," Fera replied faintly, yet warily. "You... are certain you're alright? I didn't mean that... I mean... nothing. I was... jesting. Yes... it was all a joke."

...What if the Vela heard what he had said? Maybe Dritz was only saying that because she had told him to. Or maybe they really were too far apart for her to control him, and he had no memory of it after the fact. A chill ran down the prince's spine, which did not happen often with his usual body temperature. He would have to believe she had not heard, and not say any more for now, just in case.

"Are you buying that?" he asked quickly, referring to the shirt Dritz had placed over his arm. "We need to move on if we want to get to the best stores." He glanced around, but not directly at Dritz, hoping not to be questioned further.

Dritz frowned at Fera for a long moment, but the prince of Coronus would not return his gaze. Really, though, what was going on?!

He would ask Ori later. He'd have to, this would play on his mind.

Once he had lost his desire to see Fera squirm a second longer, he purchased the too that had been recommended for him, and the two would-be companions moved on to the next store. This was a small but packed full jewellery shop selling endless adornments in many different styles, and catering for the more thrifty buyer as well as the extravagant.

"Jewellery still isn't that common on Chrysala," Dritz said, leaning over a case which contained an intricate necklace of precious gems in varying sizes, hanging from a smooth golden choker cuff; a miniature model of a star system. "It's something we're still learning about. Do you like it? We can leave if you're not too bothered about this stuff, I'm just always curious."

Relieved that Dritz wasn't pressing further, Fera managed to pull himself back together by the time they had walked to the next shop, which sold jewelry, of all things. This put the rest of his thoughts of the Vela out of his mind completely.

He knew these shops existed. But he had never yet visited one. He stared in a sort of awe for a moment, able to easily tell what was quality and what was not, and heading directly to the most expensive cases.

"Of course I like it," he replied with just a touch of haughtiness. "It's very fitting to someone of my stature. Especially on Coronus. I'm sorry your planet has no comprehension of it. Traditional Coronal jewelry is quite a sight to behold; also quite heavy. It's worn for important functions, and addressing the public. But I like smaller pieces to wear more often."

The prince hadn't meant to ramble so much, but he was enjoying himself again more than expected. With a careful eye, he studied a pair of earrings which were designed from large red crystals and surrounded with smaller clear ones which seemed to sparkle even without moving. "What would you wear?" he asked in sudden curiosity. "No offense, but it's hard to imagine you in much jewelry. I think you'd look a bit silly." He smirked, unable to hold back a smug sort of feeling at the thought. Not everyone could pull off beauty and fashion the way he could.

"Oh yeah? I'd love to see your royal wear sometime, do you have any pictures?" Dritz asked, seemingly enthusiastic about the idea of elaborate, heavy adornment, even if he was still not too sure about what it was for, apart from looking nice? He supposed the royal stuff that Fera was talking about would represent wealth or status... which, really, was fascinating. Chunks of mostly-clear stone carved into a pattern to refract the light, worn on the body to show someone was supposedly better than someone else? Bizarre.

"Nah, I don't see myself wearing any, to be honest. It'd get in the way of work. I... hm, actually, I do remember once seeing an overseer wearing little rings on her antennae, but she was much more mature, otherwise I think they'd restrict their movement..." he frowned as he recalled that. The thought of something restricting his own antennae made him feel a bit squirmy. "I guess if I were to wear a ring or something, it would be protected under gloves while I work..."

As his eyes roamed over the jewellery, however, he was particularly taken with a choker. The band of it was a plain silvery chain, meaning it would sit at the very base of the neck, and close to it, rather than mid-neck, and suspended in the centre was a simple, round stone. Not clear, like the others, but a rough, opaque one, uncut and dark, roughly the size of the pad of his thumb; rich purple, but more than that, it seemed to be every shade of purple at once, with thin veins of crystals so tiny Dritz could barely register them. The stone looked as though it held an entire galaxy inside it. He immediately perked up and looked at the store clerk, "This, I need this, it's perfect; how much?"

Thankfully, it was a little closer to the cheaper side of the scale, and Dritz immediately bought it, putting the small box in the breast pocket of his jacket and beaming to himself.

"You'll have to look it up on your own," Fera said with a dismissive wave. "I'm sure there's plenty of information on Coronal royalty available in whatever archive you choose to access." He smirked to think of Dritz or any Chrysalan in jewelry, whether he had seen anyone before with something similar or not. "Don't you think these would look perfect on me, though? Not quite as beautiful as myself, but any craftsman would have a hard time achieving that much."

All of his gloating and vain gestures were going unnoticed, however. When Fera turned to see why Dritz wasn't responding, he saw that the Chrysalan was instead studying a short necklace with a purplish stone on it, an item Fera was very sure was very boring and plain. He huffed softly to himself, thinking it was incredibly unfair for Dritz to not be paying attention to him instead.

"You said you wouldn't wear any jewelry," he said in a sarcastic whine, unable to help himself. Dritz was indeed buying the necklace, and the prince sighed. "You don't make any sense at all."

Dritz rolled his eyes, but was smiling good-naturedly. "That's exactly right, I wouldn't wear any. And I especially wouldn't wear this. No, no, this is for Vela. It will look wonderful on her, and it should still be practical while she's working." He was aware of what could almost have been a wave of disapproval from the prince. Maybe he was imagining it, but either way, he was quick to touch Fera's arm and usher him out and to the next store.

This one was tucked away, almost like it was hidden, with an understated exterior of reflective black and silver panels. Inside, however, was an expanse of shiny floor with sleek black and silver décor, and displays of one-of-a-kind clothing pieces. It was almost like a museum in the layout, Dritz thought. It also seemed to cater only to those of a slimmer frame, until Dritz found a notice in flowing Basic script, with multiple translations underneath, explaining that all the clothing was sample sized, and would be tailored to the customer's exact measurements, and to ask the clerk for a consultation.

"Now, how about this place?" Dritz said in a hushed voice. For some reason, the acoustic of the shining shop made him feel the need to whisper.

Upon hearing that the necklace was for the Vela, Fera frowned heavily and started backing away. He wanted to warn Dritz about being manipulated by the strange Aurian woman but knew it would do no good. Beyond that, he was already being led out of the shop and was happy enough to go without thinking about the situation further.

Instead of being in awe the way Dritz seemed to be when entering the next shop, Fera instantly felt at home. He didn't even respond, just elegantly floated over to the nearest display, which just happened to be a low-cut dress in shimmering white fabric that he knew would cling to him beautifully.

"I should get this," he murmured, unable to keep from imagining what Orion's face would look like when he saw his lover in such a garment. He turned to Dritz and smirked just a little. "You must feel out of place. But that's alright, at least you had the sense to bring me to an establishment of true quality before we return."

Indeed, he was now feeling almost benevolent. "What would you purchase here, if you were able? Anything at all. If there is anything." He waited for an answer while still gazing at the shimmery dress with a nearly affectionate expression. If there was one way to truly settle him, it was to surround him with the presence of the highest quality fashion.

Dritz frowned. They'd been getting along so well, and Fera had seemed to be warming, but then for him to turn that slightly condescending smirk back at him... he couldn't help the disappointment. Nevertheless, it was a small blip in what was otherwise already a nice time with the prince, so he chose to ignore it.

"I like that, actually," he said, almost... why did he sound shy, of all things? He wasn't! The garment behind the case was incredibly formal, the likes of which Dritz had never seen, white and structured around the shoulders and high collar, with finely woven epaulettes; small and subtle against the shoulders. The cuffs and collar had minute stitching in silvery fabric that shimmered blue in the right light. It was paired with dark navy trousers and glossy shoes. It looked almost military, which was strange, as Dritz had never really been interested in the military, or anything relating to it. "Dunno why, it's not really my usual style."

He turned to Fera and added, gesturing to the dress he'd been admiring, "Not that you need my approval, but this? Perfect. And even better, you can't wear that just anywhere. Ori will have to take you out to the fanciest place ever!"

"Of course it's perfect," Fera said airily, though he couldn't help but soften for a moment at the suggestion that Orion would need to take him to a suitable location to wear it. He wasn't sure the human could afford to do such a thing, but the prince honestly wouldn't mind having to contribute to the cost.

The outfit Dritz had indicated was... Well. A fancy sort of military style outfit which Fera couldn't imagine him wearing. Although... maybe. Just maybe. "An excellent choice," he said loudly, making a sweeping gesture with one hand as though he was about to bestow a high honor upon the Chrysalan. "I can't help but want to assist you. Clerk, please take this gentleman's measurements, I require these garments to be made to his sizing with all costs charged to myself."

He turned back to Dritz, smirking again in delight at possibly having a chance to embarrass him. "And don't even think about refusing, it's a gift to you, and I won't even ask for any form of repayment this time."

The clerk was already bustling forward eagerly, no doubt pleased to be making a sale, and Fera's smirk only grew wider.

Dritz gawped for a long moment, his antennae perked almost completely up.

"Fera..." he managed, though he wasn't too sure where that sentence would possibly go. Just when he thought he had the prince all figured out. Again. "I... Wow. I'm pretty sure it takes a lot to shut me up, but you've managed it." He touched the prince's arm with a genuine smile, "Much as I wanna refuse, this is too much of a gesture. Thank you. Truly. This is so unexpected."

Soon, though, the clerk was ushering him away fairly insistently, evidently very eager to make a sale; it was obvious Fera could afford it. As he was being led away, Dritz fixed the Coronal with the smirk of a friendly rival, "I'm gunna repay this; count on it. When you least expect iiit~!"

As Dritz was led away, the clerk hissed something into a back room, and another attendant quickly scurried out, smoothing their sharp suit and, as Dritz could hear, was offering Fera some sort of refreshment.

Quite smug upon finally receiving the exact treatment he deserved, Fera sipped at the glass of champagne the other clerk had quickly fetched him when Dritz went to have his measurements taken. He knew, or didn't think, the Chrysalan would be able to repay him. That didn't matter. He had plenty of credits and no real check on his spending. There was no doubt to him that this would smooth over any problems he might have caused with what he said earlier in case the Vela overheard. If she saw how willing he was to pay for expensive items, maybe she would be willing to forget about cursing him.

While Dritz was gone, Fera also casually purchased the dress he had been looking at earlier. The clerk explained it was a popular item and there were many sizes already in stock, one of which did happen to be his own. It was even cut to his particular body shape, proving that apparently at least some other men had something close to his own good taste.

"Did it go well?" he asked Dritz when he finally returned and the champagne glass was drained. "Modern technology is truly a marvelous thing; the garments will be ready in mere minutes. Not as good as on Coronus, but what is?"

True to his word, they had only resumed browsing for about ten minutes before the first clerk reappeared with an elaborately wrapped package containing Dritz's new clothes, assuring him they would fit perfectly and that the two of them should come back anytime at all. Even if the shop was closed for the evening, something could be arranged for such marvelous patrons as they.

Chuckling, Dritz scrunched his nose up, "It was weird. I've never had anyone measure me?" He found himself being handed a small flute of champagne suddenly (but not unwanted). He sipped it delicately, looking around with a grin.

"Hey, so... Tell me about Coronus. You talk about it a lot, so I was wondering if you miss it... What's so different there?" he asked casually. He knew little to nothing about Coronus itself, and while he had Fera in a chattier sort of mind, it seemed like a good idea to ask.

Fera did seem to mention Coronus all the time. But it didn't necessarily mean he wanted to talk too much about it in specific detail.

He twirled the stem of his empty glass between his fingers while waiting for one of the clerks to take it, thinking to himself. "I don't miss it," he said, tone fairly flat. "In terms of technology and artistry, there is no planet that compares with Coronus. We have a great deal of wealth, and a marvelous religious system which I never paid much mind to. It's very hot there, you know. Not to me," he added with a smirk. "But you would burn your skin off just walking on the surface without protective equipment. I wouldn't recommend a visit, anyway."

For a long moment he paused, as though he couldn't think what to say. They had their purchases and their glasses were taken, so he didn't want to spend any more time conversing on the subject than he had to. "I'm sure it's fine for anyone else. But living there for me is very... isolating." He glanced at Dritz a moment, eyelids half lowered. "Let's head back. I want to see Orion and make sure he's... ah... fine."

Isolating.

That's how Fera, this standoffish, often cold and haughty man, described his homeworld. That word alone was enough to cement Dritz's compassion for the prince, even if the way he treated Vela would always rub him the​ wrong way. No one should feel isolated surrounded by their own people, their family...

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I had no idea. But hey, you're not there now! You're not isolated here." He beamed as if to use his own presence to back that up.

"Yeah, we should make sure they're alright. They're both great, but I imagine the language barrier could cause problems. But if it means anything, I've had a lot of fun. I'd love to do this again, but probably somewhere new? Maybe if we ever find ourselves on the same planet?"

While Fera didn't respond to most of what Dritz said, a part of him was strangely touched by the other man's words. They left the shop and began making their way back, the prince lifting one shoulder in an elegant shrug.

"I suppose we could. The problem is finding ourselves on the same planet," he said with a smirk. He wasn't about to tell Dritz how much he had enjoyed their time together. It was likely just a random circumstance that might not happen again.

He also didn't want to say how relieved he was to see Orion, safe and sound even if the Vela was at his side and showing her own relief visibly upon seeing Dritz. It might have seemed funny to anyone else, observing the way they both rushed to their partner's side in obvious concern.

"We had a great time, I think, so thanks for letting us switch things up like this," Orion said with enthusiasm, squeezing Fera's arm. He only showed minimal interest in the packages Fera was carrying, but he wasn't much of one for shopping anyway. "I think I learned a lot." Then, to the prince's horror, he used his hands to gesture in the same way the Vela did. He hadn't previously really thought about what her teaching him might mean, and he took a step away in concern.

What exactly had he allowed to happen?

"I meeean maybe we could go to a planet together! Maybe all four of us," Dritz mused. "Like a... Roadtrip. Sort of. In space."

Even he was surprisingly relieved to see Vela, and scooped her up into his arms as soon as she was near enough, kissing her affectionately. "Hey, flower! You have fun? We had a great time. Fera gave me some helpful tips on my clothes, and I got a couple of things to show you when we get back!"

He seemed even happier when Orion signed to them all, eagerly responding aloud while he responded through Aurian as well, "[Nice work!] You learn quickly. How're you finding the language between you both?"

"Pretty good," Orion replied with satisfaction, having thought he did well, personally. "I think I've got a good grasp of a lot of key phrases; Vela's a good teacher. I just told her what I wanted to say and she repeated the gestures for me until I could make them consistently without forgetting." Why did Fera look so horrified? He sighed quietly, knowing he would have to explain things to the Coronal later. "I just hope it wasn't too much of a burden for her." He wanted to add in his hope that Fera had treated Dritz well, but didn't dare in front of them all.

[He learned quickly,] Vela reassured them both. [It wasn't any trouble for me. I had a good time.] Fera was acting strange, in her mind, holding onto one of Orion's arms protectively as though to stop him from signing further. [I didn't do anything to him,] she added with a hint of disdain, frustrated that he seemed to keep thinking she had.

Soon enough they made their goodbyes and parted ways, much to Vela's satisfaction. She wanted to be alone with Dritz, and she was highly curious about the packages he was carrying. [What are they?] she asked, leaning closer to him as they walked back to their rooms.

Dritz translated Vela for the benefit of the others, beaming when he happily informed them that Orion was a quick learner. He paused when it came to her parting shot, however, instead assuring Fera that they'd had a nice time, and Orion was well.

As they walked, Dritz threw an arm around Vela, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. He'd had a fun enough time with Fera, but he was hard work. It wasn't a problem, but he thought that he couldn't have managed much longer. He smiled, trying to look, and sound, mysterious, "Oh, you'll see. A sort of... surprise."

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Magical Loopholes

Chapter 11: Secrets and Promises

He made himself busy downstairs, just as he always would have, hoping the noise wouldn't wake her, but at the same time hoping it might so they could spend a few moments together before he had to go. He would have loved to make her breakfast himself, but he supposed that she could do it when she got hungry or got out of bed, whenever that might be. As far as he was concerned, what he owned was hers. She was no stranger to a kitchen after all and free to help herself when…

He turned to the sink to fetch a coffee cup and was suddenly confronted with a memory from the night before. Not a pleasant one upstairs, but rather one that had him standing nearly in this exact position. It was the way she'd reacted to the garbage disposal last night when he'd turned it on, the fear in her eyes before she understood what it was and how it worked.

She was no stranger to a kitchen in their land. But here? From the way she'd reacted, he couldn't assume anything here was familiar to her. So what could he do? If she wasn't going to wake up before he left, how would she eat? This was the one place that she could start a fire and hurt herself if she didn't know what she was doing. He couldn't let that happen. He'd promised to keep her safe, which included dangers inside the home just as well as outside.

Plums! She liked plums, he thought, she'd served them often enough in the Dark Castle, and he had some around that were recently bought. He pulled a few out and began cutting them up for her and adding them to a bowl. What else? Plums were not a filling breakfast, not enough to get her through to lunch at least. What else would work? He didn't have cereal, she wouldn't understand the concept of a microwave, and he'd made eggs for her last night. Toast, he thought, glancing at the toaster next to the bread. It would be new, but it was easy and safe enough to work. He'd leave her a note, some simple instructions. She was smart; she could figure out toast and tea. In fact, it might be a good place for her to start.

He wandered out to the hallway to grab a bit of paper and a pen so he could-

He froze in the middle of his task. Something had caught his attention, something that had caught his attention since he'd first heard Emma Swan's name. The basement door. The door he'd never been able to get into, the one that Mr. Gold's memories told him had always been "stuck." He'd tried the night he met Emma to open it. It hadn't budged. But with magic here now, things were different, and he wondered…

He drew closer to the door. His keys were still at the front of his house, but Mr. Gold had always kept a spare in the bookshelf, in between the pages of the Iliad. He gave the book a shake, and the metal key dropped into his hands. He put the key in the lock and turned until he heard the predictable snick. That wasn't the difficult part. He'd always been able to unlock it, but every time he'd put his hand to the knob, turned and yanked, he'd never been able to-

It opened.

The basement door opened for the first time since he'd been in Storybrooke and what came out was a small rush of stale air and something else, a familiar smell.

Magic.

His magic.

Timidly he opened the door and looked down the dusty wooden stairs. Nothing out of the ordinary. But when he got to the bottom of the stairs and turned on the light…he almost cried.

It was his tower. Well, maybe not his tower exactly, but it was his workspace. There was his worktable, empty beakers and flasks that he'd once used to craft his potions and spells. Against one wall was the cabinet where he'd bottled rare potions that were creations of his own. It was the same cabinet he'd once set the True Love potion to steep in. And that wasn't all. His spinning wheel was there. Not the one in his shop or his childhood Saxony Wheel that sat upstairs as a decoration. This was his wheel, one of his aunt's Great Wheels. The one he'd always used to make gold with. He put his hand on it, felt the old delicate wood against his hand, then gave the wheel a slight spin. Just like new. It moved as it had the last day he'd used it, right before he'd been imprisoned. With another spin, he checked the mechanisms. All clean, all still working as if he'd never left. It was a bit dusty perhaps, but he felt a tear gather in his eye and gave a loyal pat to his trusty machine. Finally, he turned to the walls. Bookshelves lined the sides of the basement as if it were a library, but when he stepped closer to identify the titles, he saw that they were magical books he'd once marked with his own blood, books he'd wanted to have here when the Curse broke. Including…

He growled. Two books on his mother that had survived his reign of terror. Without thinking about it, he used his magic to make a hole in the masonry and hid them in the wall so that he didn't have to see them. Out of sight, out of mind. This place felt holy and unblemished despite the work he'd done in his tower, despite the work he suspected he was going to have to do here. He didn't want to mar it with memories of his mother. Why he'd kept the two books to begin with was a bit of a mystery. Perhaps later, he'd burn them.

From somewhere upstairs, he heard a clock chime. It was late. He was late. Though he suspected that no one would care given the circumstances, he needed to be in town. He needed to see what was happening, how people were coping with their memories. He needed to make sure Belle was provided for before he left. So as much as he would have loved to sit at his wheel and spin some gold just for old time's sake, he knew he had to go. There would be time to explore, and to spin, later.

Upstairs he locked the door behind him and hid the key back inside the Iliad. And then, when he remembered Belle upstairs and her curiosity, he used his magic to place a protection spell on it, one that would admit him and only him when the handle was touched. Anyone else who tried would find the door stuck just as he had during the Curse. It was for the best. He hadn't had time to go through everything down there, but if the books he'd seen were any indication, he didn't want the wrong person finding them and certainly not Belle.

With her in mind, he returned to his initial task. He picked up the paper and pen he'd originally gone into the hallway for and returned to the kitchen. Tea and toast. She could do that. He jotted down a few instructions, a few thoughts and reassurances; he told her he loved her once more because he couldn't wait until they were together again for her to hear it, then glanced at the clock. He really wanted to go. It was a good thing he'd come up with this plan because there hadn't even been a peep from upstairs. That was fine. He set the note on the table, gathered his keys, and glanced up the stairs to his bedroom door.

Maybe just one more look, just one more peek to be sure she was okay, and then he'd be satisfied. Then he could make it until he came home to see her at lunch.

He quietly turned the knob and took a glance in, expecting to find her laying there sleeping as he'd left her, but instead, he found her awake! Through the crack in the door, he could see her pushed up on her elbows and the sheet pulled against her chest as she looked around the room. He smiled when they locked eyes.

"Hey," he whispered, suddenly ecstatic he'd returned before leaving.

But she didn't look excited. Instead of smiling and greeting him back, she let all the air out of her lungs in a puff and let herself fall back against the mattress with a strange noise. She immediately put her hands over her face as though she was upset. With him? With this? With what they'd done?

"Belle?" he strode toward her as panic set in. Panic briefly gave way to thrill as he felt his body press against hers, even if it was just hip to hip. He imagined it would take some time before that reaction dulled, if ever. "Are you all right?"

She moved her fingers and looked through them at him as he came to rest on the edge of the mattress, then nodded and allowed him to pull her hand away from her mouth. He touched her face, moving the hair out of her eyes to examine her. Her heart was racing. Had she had another nightmare when he'd left?

"I woke up, and you were gone, I…I was worried," she finished with a sigh as if she were disappointed in herself.

Pain spread through his heart. She'd worried because he wasn't there. He shouldn't have left. He knew it. He should have stayed there with her. He should have waited until she woke up before he'd gone, he should have told her-

"What time is it?" she asked suddenly, breaking off his silent chastisements.

"Early," he muttered, hovering over her and bracing himself with another arm on the other side of her. Ballgown, plain dress, or a sheer sheet that left nothing to the imagination, as if he needed to wonder after last night, he couldn't seem to stop himself from noticing her, even when he wanted to.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered, remembering that he wasn't supposed to be looking at her body, wasn't supposed to be making her feel self-conscious, he was supposed to feel bad for leaving her to worry and panic, he was supposed to explain. "I have to be in town early, and you were sleeping soundly. I didn't want to wake you. I was just coming to give you a final glance before I left for town."

"Town?!"

"To open the shop," he clarified.

She nodded and moved to sit up. "I'll get dressed and come with you."

"No, no," he managed to push her back against the mattress gently, trying not to reveal how nervous he was by the very suggestion. Town? Her? Did she not remember what happened the last time she was in town? He wasn't going to lose her again; he couldn't lose her again by any other force other than her own. He wanted her to stay here, where he knew she'd be safe. But she was a brave person, no fear. How was he supposed to convince her to remain in hiding for her own good?

"Stay here," he insisted, Regina's face popping back into his mind. "There is no telling where Regina is lurking about, and it'll be much safer for you in the house."

"I want to come with you," she insisted, shaking her head slightly.

She pulled a hand free and reached up to run her fingers through his hair. It was such an easy touch it fascinated him. Given so freely, so naturally. And she was so tempting, she was so intoxicating, it would have been so simple to lose himself in that touch, to give into her. Fighting her was difficult.

"I want to see the town," she informed him, "I want to help."

Her words stirred him from the stupor her touch put him in. Town? No! Certainly not! Help? Why would she? She didn't understand. She wouldn't understand. Baelfire was his fight, his fault, not hers. If it weren't for Baelfire, he'd be sleeping the day away with her, not braving the town where anything could happen. He couldn't risk it.

"The town is not safe at the moment," he informed her. "People are confused, and they are out for blood. This is really the safest place in the world right now." Or at least he'd make it that way before he left. When he'd set the spell over the basement, his magic had come back almost right away, unlike last night. He was getting strong again. Before he left, he could easily place a spell on the house to keep her safe. He could already feel that the one he'd placed on her yesterday to make her difficult to track by magic was still intact.

He saw it then. Her resolve wavered, her shoulders sank into the mattress, and her lids get heavy again. Maybe he hadn't needed to convince her after all. Maybe he just needed to play off her sleep. She was tired, and that much was obvious.

"Stay here, Sweetheart," he sighed happily, "Rest. Go back to sleep, and I'll be home again soon. You have my word."

He watched as she melted into the bed, he wanted to touch her, to be with her for the day, but instead, he reached out and tucked the sheet covering her around her body, then piled the blankets on top of her to replace the heat that he'd taken from her when he'd left. Finally, he patted the pillow, softening, fluffing it beneath her head, making her as comfortable as he could. She'd certainly, in his opinion, been less than comfortable than she deserved in her life. She deserved some pampering, and he wanted to be the one to do it for her.

But instead of going to sleep, she gave a nod suddenly and freed the arm he'd tucked away to touch his cheek again. Was it just him? Or were sparks coming off of him whenever she touched him.

"When the town is calmer?" she asked suddenly.

His heart flipped over as he covered the hand on his cheek with his own. She was still asking to go to town. He didn't really expect her to give in so easily, but he also wasn't prepared for her to fight so hard for this. Calmer? That was the keyword. And he smiled as he thought through what that word meant and could mean. What was calm after all? It could take many, many, long weeks before it was "calm" by his standards. That bought him some time.

"When the town is put back together, less chaotic, we'll see every inch of it together," he confirmed because he sure as hell wasn't going to let her see it on her own and risk her safety.

She smiled at the news, her lids slowly closing again. She'd be asleep before he left the room, most certainly. So he leaned down to kiss her once again as he settled her hand over her chest for her. Before he left, he pulled the comforter over her and watched the corners of her mouth tip up in a smile before she shimmied into a comfortable position.

"I'll be back in a few hours for lunch," he promised her, "go back to sleep, my darling, Belle." He stroked her cheek with his thumb and kissed her forehead one last time. "I love you," he muttered, noting that when he pulled away, she was already asleep.