#drew this a few weeks ago I think. surprisingly didn’t get much drawing done these past few days when all of north texas was frozen lol

[fizpup]

oh to be a little pony with sick eyeshadow and a duck

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter three

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rated: E for drug use and sex scenes

AO3 LINK

*

“Bec?” 

Beca hummed absentmindedly, blinking out of her daze and twisting her head in the direction of the voice. 

Sarah smiled gently as she leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen. She cocked an eyebrow, giving a pointed look towards the sink. “I think the pan is clean.” 

Beca glanced down, stilling her movements. She had been scrubbing that pan for probably ten minutes now, her thoughts completely consumed by Chloe and what she was supposed to do next. 

Chloe clearly didn’t want to see her, and Beca wasn’t going to wait by the phone when it was clear that Chloe was far from okay. She was thinner than Beca remembered, and the look in her eye, the lack of light in those once bright blues, chilled Beca to the bone. 

She looked… broken. As though her spirit had repeatedly been battered until all that was left were mere pieces of her old self. 

If there were any left at all.

Beca couldn’t stand the thought of not doing anything, and she needed to come up with a plan to help Chloe without driving her into a corner and risk losing her forever. 

“What’s going on?” Sarah questioned, pushing off the doorframe and padding over. She rested her hand between Beca’s shoulder blades, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “You’ve seemed off today.” 

Beca released a sigh, setting the pan down into the sink and reaching for the dishtowel laying next to her on the counter to dry her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m just… worried about a friend.” 

Sarah nodded slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Sarah was unexpected, to say the least. Beca was a workaholic, and her career was too time-consuming for her to get into the whole dating thing. But Sarah, who happened to work as a barista in Beca’s favorite independent coffee shop, had somehow managed to convince Beca to go out with her. One dinner surprisingly turned into a second date, then a third, and it just like that, it had been almost a year since they officially got together. 

Sarah was gentle, patient, understanding, overflowing with positivity, but most of all, incredibly kind. She reminded Beca of Chloe, sometimes. And maybe it was those similar personality traits that drew Beca to her in the first place. 

They didn’t live together. Beca could feel that it was the next expected step on her girlfriend’s end, but she didn’t feel ready to commit, yet. She liked her own space, her solitude. So Sarah spent a few nights a week at Beca’s place, like tonight, and Beca was fine with that. 

“Not really,” she replied, casting Sarah an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just-- complicated right now.” 

“You need to stop apologizing,” Sarah murmured, her expression soft and loving. Beca let her shoulders sag, ready to apologize again. “I understand. But if you do change your mind and need to let something off your chest, I’m here.” 

Beca nodded. “Thanks.” 

“Are you coming to bed?” 

“Not yet, I wanna get some work done, first.” She leaned in to peck Sarah’s lips. “You go ahead, I’ll join you soon.” 

Walking across the living room and past the huge floor to ceiling windows looking over Central Park, Beca made her way to her home office, her happy place. She had bought the Manhattan condo two years ago, making it a requirement during her house-hunt to have a large room with plenty of light and enough space to store all her records and her music equipment. It was also where she kept her Grammys and other prizes, away from the attention as nobody really stepped into her office.

She usually popped a blues album on the record player, enjoying the soothing instrumentals while she replied to various emails, but not tonight. Tonight, she grabbed a yellow legal notepad and her headphones from her desk and curled up on the leather couch tucked in the far corner, then scrolled to her Spotify playlists until she found the one she was looking for. 

she is magic

Beca couldn’t remember the last time she had listened to her Chloe playlist, one she had made back in Barden when she was hopelessly in love with her best friend. They were songs that reminded her of Chloe, or songs that Chloe liked. Or used to like, at least. 

As lyrics she knew so well poured into her headphones, blocking out the rest of the world, different ones flowed out of Beca’s heart, materializing on the paper in front of her in black ink as she scribbled across the page. Lyrics about friendship, unrequited love, and regrets for listening to her brain and not her heart all these years ago. 

It was pushing on two am by the time Beca called it a night. Her eyes burned, her mind felt mushy, but her soul felt a tiny bit lighter. Music had always been her therapy, and writing songs had always proved more efficient than paying a licensed professional, even though it had been years since Beca had last finished one, for lack of inspiration. 

Or rather, because of the absence of her muse. 

*

She woke up five hours later to a stiff neck and sore back, the bright sunlight pouring in from the windows lining one of her office walls drawing her from her sleep. She had meant to go to bed, before deciding to close her eyes for five minutes right on the couch. 

Straightening with a groan, she grabbed her phone and turned it over, hoping to see a text from an unknown number on her screen. 

Aubrey Posen [6:23am]

Any news? 

Aubrey Posen [6:37am]

Should I come to New York? 

Aubrey practiced family law up in Boston. She and Beca saw each other a few times a year, whenever Aubrey was in the city. Bella reunions were a bit more scarce now, with the girls being scattered all around the country. Their last one dated back to a year and a half ago, on the Fourth of July. 

Beca ran a hand over her face and heaved out a sigh, swiping her thumb across the screen to unlock it. 

Beca [7:16am]

No news yet. I think I’m gonna wait a few days before I head back to the club, if she doesn’t call in the meantime that is. The manager gave me serious sleazy vibes and I’m sure he could blacklist me if I’m too insistent. I don’t think there’s any need for you to come down for now. I’ll keep you posted. 

Hitting send, Beca pushed to her feet and shuffled out of her office, hanging a left down the hall towards the kitchen. A note next to her coffee thermos sat on the island. 

Missed you last night, but I hope you got whatever you needed done. I had to leave for my shift, you’re welcome to swing by for your second coffee of the day and your morning kiss ;) have a good day!

Sarah xx

Guilt swooped in over picking old feelings about an ex-almost over her girlfriend, and Beca let her head hang forward, releasing a grown. She was far from an expert at this relationship thing, but she cared about Sarah a lot and didn’t want to mess that up. 

Beca shook off the sleepiness lingering in her bones and the stiffness in her muscles with a long, hot shower, then got ready for her day. She usually got to the office at 8 sharp, but it was already 7:54 by the time she was out the door, and her commute lasted about twenty minutes, so she wouldn’t get the chance to stop by Sarah’s workplace. 

To: Sarah 

I’m sorry, I got caught up in work last night and ended up falling asleep on the couch around 2. Come over tonight? I’ll cook dinner. Have a good shift.

Her morning was spent in the studio canning vocals for girl in red’s new album, a project Beca was stocked about as she was BMLJ’s most promising artist for this year’s Grammy Awards. 

“That was awesome, Marie,” Beca spoke into the microphone, giving her a thumbs-up through the glass. “Let’s take a lunch break and resume in an hour?” 

“Sounds good,” the younger woman agreed with a smile as she took off her headphones. 

Beca headed back to her office down the hall and checked her phone for any new messages (finding none important), before shrugging on her thick winter coat and screwing her beanie over her head. 

“I’ll be back in an hour, Gina!” She told her assistant on route to the elevator. 

As Sarah’s workplace was just five blocks south from the label, Beca figured she would eat lunch there as she wasn’t able to stop by that morning. She stopped in the convenience store across the street from the coffee shop to buy Sarah her favorite magazine as she knew her break was coming up soon and she’d have something to read. 

Beca was scanning the press stand for that specific magazine, not paying attention to the person walking into the store until they spoke. 

“A pack of Marlboro, please.” 

Beca would recognize that voice anywhere. Her head snapped up so fast she felt something in her neck pull, and she was rounding the stand before she even registered giving her feet the order to move. “Chloe?” 

Chloe glanced over to her right and froze for a second, before fishing for a twenty in her jacket pocket and handing it to the cashier. “Are you following me or something?” 

Given their last encounter, Beca wasn’t surprised by Chloe’s snark, so she gave as good as she got. “You came in after I did, so maybe I should ask you that question.” 

Chloe stuffed the cigarette pack and the change into her pocket. “What do you want, Beca?” 

“To talk,” she replied, softly. “One coffee, that’s it. And if you decide you really don’t want me in your life, then I won’t bother you again. I promise.” 

Chloe seemed to ponder on that for a few beats. “One coffee.” 

“There’s a shop right across the street.” 

Taking her to the place her girlfriend worked at? Probably not the brightest idea, but she was afraid Chloe might go back on her decision if they spent too long finding someplace else. 

When Chloe nodded, Beca took the lead and stepped outside, forgetting all about that magazine as she racked her brain about what she should say. Tactfulness wasn’t her greatest suit; Aubrey would be so much better at this. 

They stepped inside Devocion and Beca picked a table in the corner, shrugging off her coat and draping it over the back of her chair. Chloe kept her jacket and beanie on, a bit hunched on herself as she sat down in the chair opposite Beca’s. 

“Beca?” 

Beca glanced towards Sarah as she approached, wearing a waist apron with the café logo on it. Her dark blonde hair was woven back in a French braid, a few strands escaping, and curiosity swirled in her green eyes as they flickered to Chloe. 

Okay, in hindsight, bringing Chloe here was a terrible idea. 

“Hey, um, Sarah, this is Chloe, a friend from college.” She cleared her throat. “Chloe, this is my girlfriend, Sarah.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Sarah replied brightly, her smile fading a little when all Chloe offered was a distant nod. Sarah met Beca’s gaze briefly, clearing her throat. “What can I get you guys?” 

“My usual. You want anything to eat, Chlo?” 

The nickname rolled off her tongue so naturally, Beca didn’t even catch it. 

Chloe shook her head. “Just a black coffee.” 

“Coming right up.” 

“Thanks,” Beca said as Sarah spun around on her heels, her focus shifting to Chloe. “So um, I wanted to apologize for the other day and putting you on the spot at the club. I just… wasn’t sure how else to talk to you.” 

“I can give you some of the money back if you need it.” 

Beca furrowed her brow, not having expected that. “No, no. I… it’s fine. I don’t care about money.” 

Something flashed in Chloe’s eyes at that, something Beca couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Sarah came back with two coffees before she could analyze it further, setting the mugs down on the table. “Your club sandwich will be here in a few, babe.” 

Beca nodded, casting her a small, appreciative smile. 

Chloe straightened a bit in her seat, cradling the mug with both hands. “I’m not sure what you expect me to say or do, Beca.” 

Beca licked her lips. “I was hoping we could… hang out from time to time. I’ve missed you, Chlo. So has Aubrey.” 

The mention of Aubrey made Chloe lookup. “Does she live in New York, too?” 

“Um no, in Boston. She’s a lawyer. But she’d come down to have coffee, or lunch, or whatever you feel like doing. In a heartbeat.” 

Chloe shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

What little hope flared in the pit of Beca’s belly upon Chloe showing interest in Aubrey’s life vanished. “Why not?” 

“I told you. I’m not the same person anymore. I’m-- I’m not…” 

Beca tilted her head to the side. “You’re not what?” She pressed gently. 

Chloe’s gaze fleeted out the window as her rather calm demeanor now radiated agitation. Her knee started bouncing and her fingers tightened around the mug, and it was as though Chloe was battling against her own thoughts. 

She was itching to reach across the table to rest her hand over her wrist in a sort of grounding gesture, but something told her that would have the opposite effect. 

“Chloe?” Beca attempted once more, her voice as soft as she could muster, as it seemed like Chloe was on the brink of bolting. 

The tear slipping out of Chloe’s eye tore her heart into two. “I-I have to go.” 

Her chair screeched as she pushed it back roughly, and she was nearly out the door by the time Beca scrambled to her feet. 

It was lunch-hour rush in one of the busiest avenues in Manhattan, and Chloe had already disappeared in the crowd when she reached the exit, leaving Beca to helplessly wonder how someone like Chloe, once the epitome of sunshine, got herself trapped in so much darkness.

[jisungffs]

coffee breath - felix.

words: 5.1k

reader: gender-neutral

genre: fluff

tags: best friend!felix x aromantic!reader, coffeeshop au, non idol! au, implied lgbtq!felix, minho is a minor character, minsung is mentioned. this whole thing is strictly platonic, none of this is meant to be romantic. just a cute fluffy fic honestly. the end has a little tension but not a lot.

warnings: THIS WHOLE THING IS PLATONIC, DON’T READ IF YOU WANT ROMANCE, swearing, multiple descriptions of food.

requested by @aritodla​, check her out, she’s an amazing artist and a really sweet person overall. 

Lee Felix was a sweet boy. He had kind eyes, freckled cheeks, and an air of infectious happiness around him. He always tipped generously, he never got angry at the staff, and he always cleaned up after himself. Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And it was a shame all you knew about him was his first name and his coffee order.

 Even though Felix only started visiting your coffee shop a few weeks ago, you could tell he was a genuinely nice person. Everything about him was lovable.

Like the way he always said thank you after you took his order. 

Or like the way he gripped his coffee cup with both his hands when the weather was cold.

Or the way he had a billion stickers on his laptop, adding a new one every week.

Or the way his eyebrows furrowed when he wrote something down..

Or the way he nodded along when he heard music he liked.

Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And even though you didn’t know much about him, you really wanted to. Because Lee Felix was sunshine. And you were in need of warmth. 

It was a sunny day — one where it was warm enough to find solace in cafes and under the awnings of fashion stores, but not warm enough to make you want to curse out everything around you. The perfect weather, really. It was on this day that Lee Felix decided to wear his Twice t-shirt. It was barely noticeable — just a little white logo on the breast. It looked like a regular black tee from a distance. But you noticed. Because not only did you want to get to know Felix, you were also a huge fan of Twice. 

Felix gave you his usual order of a cappuccino and a chocolate scone and went back to his seat.  Felix liked Twice! You wondered who his bias was. Or what his favourite song was. It was really cool that Felix liked Twice right? You finally had something in common. 

You drew a little Twice logo on the coffee foam. You didn’t even realize it. It was pretty usual for you to draw about what’s on your mind, and your cafe didn’t exactly have strict rules about foam art. 

Felix was once again on his laptop today. You could recognize the colourful sticker-covered laptop from a mile away. His brows furrowed as he typed away, only getting up to collect his order. He was back in his seat and was about to continue whatever he was doing when he noticed the logo on his coffee, drawn on foam. His eyes widened slightly, his mouth broke into a grin. You noticed him getting his phone out and taking a picture before you had to attend to other customers.

-

It was a windy night. Felix was already in the cafe by the time your shift started, and was peacefully nibbling on a muffin while doing something on his laptop. His eyes never left the laptop screen. He checked his phone from time to time, but never spent more than a few seconds on it. From the looks of it, he was unaware of everything outside his screen and his table. 

The closing shift never had a lot of customers. It was just Felix, you, and a couple of regulars in the little cafe. 

And the regulars had already left by the time you were done cleaning up. It was five minutes until closing time, and Felix was still there, probably not knowing he was the last one there. You knew you had to tell him he had to leave soon, but you didn’t know exactly what to say. You weren’t the best at the closing shift.

You approached his seat awkwardly. “Excuse me…? Sir…?”, you said tentatively before gently tapping on the table.

Felix jumped slightly at the interruption. He quickly looked around the cafe. “Oh”, he said smally, “Am I the last one here?”

“Yes, and the cafe’s closing soon”, you said with a patient customer service smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t even realise”, he laughed. “I was working on some music and I guess I got carried away”

“Well,”, you struggled to find something to say,” If you like to sing, we have live music on Fridays”

What was that??? Who says that??

“I’ll keep that in mind”, he laughed, shutting the tabs on his laptop. 

His phone screen played the Fancy MV, connected to headphones lying on the table. He was probably streaming it, and your mind raced at the conversation starter.

“You’re streaming Fancy!”,  you said without thinking. You immediately cursed yourself for not spending more time thinking about what to say. He barely knows you, for god’s sake.

Felix didn’t seem to mind. “You like Twice?” Felix said with raised eyebrows and a goofy grin.

“I do”, you replied, mirroring his grin, “Chaeyoung’s my bias.”

Felix's eyes widened. “Wait a second!”, he said,  “Were you the barista who drew the logo on my coffee yesterday?”

“That was me!”, you said laughing.

---

It was a sunny day - the kind where you technically could go out, but it was just a lot more comfortable staying inside. You started mixing Felix's drink as soon as he came to the counter. Felix looked pleasantly surprised. “Guess I don’t have to order anymore”

“I mean,” you said with your eyebrows raised, “You do have to try other drinks at some point, you know? You’ve ordered the a cappuccino and a chocolate scone everytime you came here, and they’re not even that good”

“Hey!” he cry-laughed. “Don’t you dare say that about my cappuccino.”

“By the way,” you added, “I think you’ll like the music today”

Felix raised his eyebrows. His lips quirked up when he realised a lo-fi playlist of Twice songs played through the speakers. 

-

It was an average day -- the awkward phase between afternoon and evening, the weather so ordinary there was nothing to comment about it. Felix shaked his head as he reached the counter and saw you start to make his drink. “Oh I’m not having that today”

You raised your eyebrows, “Oh?”

“Yeah”, Felix said, fixing his posture and smirking. “I’ll have a black coffee, please”, he said in an over dramatic voice.

“Brave today, are we?” 

“Yes, and”  he said like a child boasting about his most recent tag game, “I won’t add any sugar to it”

“Oh boy”, you sighed, shaking your head.

Five minutes later, Felix’s (black) coffee was ready. Five and a half minutes later, Felix’s black coffee was at his table. You watched as he took his first sip.  His entire face scrunched up at the bitter taste. He noticed you looking at him. He gave you a thumbs-up, still wearing the most pained expression known to man. Felix should not drink black coffee.

It was a windy day, the thick grey clouds above threatening to spill over during the night. Felix apparently wanted to prove a point, seeing as he once again ordered a black coffee (no sugar).

“But you hated it yesterday!”

“Clearly you didn’t see the thumbs up”

“Yeah, I was too busy looking at the agony on your face”

He pouted, “But I want a black coffee~”

You sighed. “This will be your villain origin story”.

Not surprisingly, Felix had the same expression of disgust as soon as the black coffee touched his lips. Still not surprisingly, he kept up the cool-edgy-guy-who-drinks-black-coffee schtick.

-

It was a cool yet humid day - the most polarising weather possible. It was a lonely afternoon with hardly any customers in the coffee shop. It was a weekday afternoon, after all. Felix came into the store wearing a black hoodie and a smug grin.

“Please don't tell me you want a black coffee”, you said even before he fully got to the counter. The boy clearly hated the bitterness, but wanted to prove a point anyway. 

“Hey, this was your idea!”, he laughed.

“We have more than cappuccinos and black coffee, buddy. We don’t have to go into the extremes right away”

“Well I’m hoping that if I keep drinking the black coffee, I’ll get used to the disgustingness.”

You shook your head and laughed. “Tell you what,” you clapped your hands together, an idea hitting you. “I’ll play around with some ingredients and make you something I think you’ll like.”

“Ohhhh”, Felix said. "That sounds fun"

"Yes and maybe it'll help me add drinks to the menu too", you grinned.

"I shall not show you mercy, O worthy opponent". Felix spoke with a British accent, bowing to add some flair. 

You played around with steamed milk, vanilla syrup, espresso, chocolate powder, and sugar. Plus whipped cream for good measure. A few minutes later, the drink was ready. Felix came up to the counter and looked at the drink in mock apprehension. 

"I call it the Felixir", you said, . "Get it? Like Elixir?"

Felix let out a laugh. 

“I know. It’s dumb. But!”, you said, "I played around with a bunch of stuff I know you like. It has chocolate, espresso, whipped cream and some other stuff. I have no idea how it tastes, but my barista senses told me this would be nice".

"I trust your barista senses". Felix took a sip of the Felixir.  Whipped cream made a button on his nose. Felix's lips curved into a smile. His half-moon smile shined through. "Your barista senses rock", he said, punching the air.

"Do you like it?"

"I LOVE it. I don't know how you got my favourite ingredients so spot on."

You laughed. "Barista instincts, my friend". 

Felix took another sip, holding the cup with both hands.

"Anyway," you continued, "this one's on the house. You deserve it for enduring the black coffee".

"This is so much better than black coffee", he babbled. "Black coffee has so much caffeine in it?? I was practically vibrating all of yesterday". 

"Black coffee is for people with a lot of shit to do and not enough energy to do them", you agreed. "This one has espresso too, and also a shit-ton of sugar, so you might still vibrate today, just letting you know."

"I'll take being a popular kid's iPhone if it means I can have whipped cream and caramel and the other stuff".

-

It was a sunny day. Ladies in sundresses waited for their dates outside the cafe. 

“Not a lot of people here, huh?” Felix commented.

“It’s a weekday afternoon, what do you expect? Only teenagers on their lunch breaks come here. And you, for some reason”

“How could I stay away from my favourite barista?”

You rolled your eyes. “Since you’re here anyway, let’s talk. I’m bored.” Was that too blunt?

“Cool, what do you wanna talk about?”

“The meaning of life, God, or Twice. You pick”

“Trick question, Twice is God and the meaning of life”

“You’re too smart”

Felix stroked his hair back, “I know”

You roll your eyes. “What are your favourite songs by them?”

“Literally their entire discography, but Fancy or TT if I had to choose”

“Fuck yeah. Those songs are queens”

Felix looks at you approvingly. “We should hang out sometime”

-

It was a clear day. Trees danced around in the wind. Another afternoon where there was hardly anyone in the little coffee shop. Felix ordered his Felixir once again with a cheery tone. You spent some time cleaning up the kitchen and rearranging the items on display. Felix was waiting near the counter once you got done, absent-mindedly checking his phone. He put down his phone and gave you a bright smile when he noticed you coming back.

You smiled back. “What’s the occasion, bub?”

“Nothing, I’m just a little bored and I wanted to hang out with you”

“Well, there aren’t a lot of customers so I guess that works out perfectly”

“How’s your day going so far?”

“It’s pretty boring, to be honest. Maybe I’ll watch a movie when I get home. My shift ends in like half an hour.”

“Whaaat? I was planning to watch a movie too! I live right upstairs, actually”

“Really? That explains why you’re always here”, you laughed.

Felix laughed back. “I have nothing to do today”. Felix gave you an expectant look.

Oh. 

“Me neither”, you said casually. “Do you think we should watch something together?”

“Yes!” He giggled. “I know I’m not the best with invites, but  I’m glad you picked that up”

“Honestly, I’m surprised I got that. I’m really awkward with invites too”

“More reasons to be friends, then”

“We live closer than I thought, by the way. I live across the street. It’s a five-minute walk.”

That afternoon was a pleasant one. Breeze played with the little children on the street. Felix and you were sprawled on the couch, mindlessly watching the trashy movie on TV. An orange cat ㅡ his roommate’s apparently ㅡ decided to laze around on Felix’s lap, his hand absentmindedly stroking its soft fur. 

“Why are early 2000s movies so much more dramatic than they need to be?” Felix commented.

“Right? I remember watching this as a kid and it wasn’t half as bad”, you replied

“So it’s true then. Adulthood only makes things go downhill”

“Hey now you’re the one being dramatic”

“Wrong, I’m always dramatic”

“Your apartment is pretty nice, by the way.”

“Thank you. You’re free to come over whenever”

“Won’t your roommate mind?”

“Not really. Minho’s out most of the time and he brings over his friends all the time too.”

You smiled. “Hey also,”, you said. “Since we live pretty close by, we can hang out at my place some time too!”

“That sounds great”, he smiled widely.

-

It was a cool day. Most of your patrons huddled themselves in hoodies and cardigans. Felix ordered his drink before giving you a curious look. “Did you come to the cafe yesterday?”

“No, I didn’t have a shift. why?” you asked, slightly thrown off.

“Oh that explains it”, he said, “I came in yesterday and you weren’t there. The other barista didn’t know how to make my drink. Or even what it was, actually. And," he paused, "I missed talking to you”

An embarrassing smile crept up your face. “That’s so sweet”, you said, barely audible.

Felix was about to walk back to his table when you said “Hey actually,”

Felix turned around. 

“I downloaded a really awful movie yesterday. Wanna make fun of it together at my place?” you said, just a little hint of nervousness in your voice. “My shift ends soon. But like, you don’t have to if you’re busy or something, we can always-”

“I’d love to,” he smiled. 

The evening was breezy as you and Felix laughed over the hilariously, excruciatingly bad movie.  Felix and you bonded very fast, apparently. Felix was resting his head on your shoulder. It felt so… natural. It was effortless. And comfortable. It was as though your bodies just did what felt familiar to them. You felt Felix’s body shake every time he laughed. You added sarcastic retorts every now and then, Felix joining too. The movie was terrible. But this moment with Felix was beautiful. 

-

It was a breezy summer day, about a month after Felix came over.

 Loving Felix was easy. It was second nature. Felix just clicked with you. The line between friends and best friends blurred quickly. And based on how much he spammed you with messages and how much he visited the cafe and how diligently he memorized your schedule and how many times you hung out,  he loved you too. 

Your phone buzzed.

felix:

are we doing anything today?

 maybe

im in the mood for hot dogs i think

oooooo should we go to the park then?

yes !!

after my shift sounds good?

yesss

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

You used to find those emoticons cringey until Felix started using them. Now, it was just fucking adorable.

(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

The park was a few streets away. It was a big one. Preteens ran around and played frisbee with their friends or their dogs or their parents. But the two of you luckily found a park bench ever-so-slightly away from the noise and the chaos. 

As you sat there talking about nothing and everything, you quietly took in Felix's features. His skin was radiant in the setting sun. His freckles, darker from the sunlight, looked like little flecks of chocolate. His eyes lit up whenever he talked about music. Or cooking. Or you. His cheeks rose and fell with his words, his eyes crinkling up when he smiled. 

It was a beautiful moment. You lay your head on Felix's shoulder, half lost in thought. The sun painted the park in a subtle shade or orange. The kids around the park laughed and jumped, being loud and being kids. Felix had stopped talking by then, too busy taking in the sunset. His head rested on yours, your hands almost touching. It was a beautiful moment. But moments with Felix were always beautiful.

-

It was a cold night. You snuggled into your blankets, intently watching something on your phone. 

Your phone buzzed. Felix sent you a meme.

you:

???????? why are you awake

it's 2am

go to sleep

why are YOU awake ????????

im watching something 👉👈

im just reading fics and stuff akdkkdj

what kind of fics 👀

they're fluffy stop making everything dirty

i can't stop me (by twice)

sjskksksjjd

oh also

do you make the brownies and stuff?

or is that someone else

in the cafe i mean

that's me babeyyyy

why tho

i like them :D

:"D

baking w you would be fun 🥺

🥺🥺🥺

im good at baking

and so are you

but maybe we should yeet away the recipes and do whatever

baking is supposed to be precise tho :(

if it fails we eat the cookie dough and erase the whole thing from our memory

nice

i mean

im supposed to be precise with the cafe stuff too but the Felixir wouldn't exist if i followed the rules

now you're getting it

when are we doing this?

buddy

we live five minutes from each other

just come over whenever

fuck planning

im *this* close to straight up giving you my keys

me too tf

hell yeah

also this isn't distracting me from the fact that you need to sleep soon

i feel kinda sleepy actually ngl

sleep.

okay 👉👈

gn !! ily

and please sleep soon aksndn

ily2

 okay :]

-

It was a clear, pleasant afternoon, your curtains swaying in the breeze. The smell of freshly made cookies wafted through your apartment. Felix sat on top of your counter, his legs swinging. Felix took one of the newly-made cookies into his hand and regarded it intently. “Looks pretty good so far. It’s a little bit hard but that’s obvious, we added a lot of ingredients and didn’t adjust the flour properly”

“So much for experimentation”

“We did add a lot of fun stuff though, so my money’s on it tasting good”.

You both bit into a cookie. It was… alright. It wasn’t bad, but you expected it to taste a lot better or a lot worse. You both gave each other disappointed smiles. “Underwhelming.”

“But hey! It wasn’t bad!” Felix added.

“True. Still thought the cookies would be more… more. You know?”

“I know. But who cares about that?” Felix put his arm on your shoulder, “Making this with you was the most fun I had in a while and I couldn't care less what they ended up tasting like.”

You let out a small smile. “I love you”

“And I love you”

You looked up at him. His soft brown eyes were warm with affection.

“Now,” Felix continued, “The cookie dough’s gotta be better right?”

You laughed. “The cookie dough is chocolate sludge at this point”

“Yeah, maybe using M&Ms as chocolate chips was a bit much”

“Probably. But let’s race. Whoever finds the most M&Ms in the dough wins.”

“I already know I’m winning”.

-

It was a drizzly night. Streetlights reflected on the wet asphalt outside Felix’s apartment. Felix and you had decided to have an impromptu sleepover. It was almost 3am, both of you slightly delirious from the caffeine and the staying up. You were yelling at the TV, desperately trying to get your character to do something, damn it. Felix just smirked beside you, his character easily attacking yours. He was choosing not to kill you quickly, which was almost more annoying than dying straight away. It wasn’t long before Felix won the game. You pouted in annoyance.

“Maybe I should start killing you quickly so you won’t be loud and Minho won’t yell at us for making noise”

“This game sucks”, you pouted.

“You’re just new to it. Did you know you can do twice as much damage if you press B after you attack?”

“Really?”

“Yeah! And do you know how to dodge?”

“No” you said like a kid admitting to breaking something.

“Why did you make me skip the tutorial?”, Felix laughed.

“The past is in the past, Felix. How do I dodge?”

Felix spent a few minutes teaching you which buttons do what and which attacks are effective when. It only took a few slightly frustrating runs before you almost came close to beating him. Maybe he was going easy on you, but that didn’t matter. It was fun. 

“You are learning, my protégé”, he said approvingly.

-

It was a chilly evening. Old white sheets lay spread out on your bedroom floor, your furniture haphazardly moved to the living room.  Felix had texted you earlier that day, promising to help you paint your room. You were almost done painting half a wall when you heard his familiar deep voice. “Hey! Missed you.”

“Missed you more”, you smiled.

“What do you need me to do? How may I be of assistance?” he curtsied.

You rolled your eyes. “Just grab a paint brush and do that wall over there. Just make sure it's even and don’t get any on your clothes.”

“You say that with a million paint splatters on you”, he laughed. 

Felix got to work. Neither of you really talked. It seemed that Felix was lost in thought, letting his hands do the painting. But it was fine. Because moments with Felix were always beautiful, even the silences. 

You were finished with your first wall when you decided to play calm music on your phone. Soothing guitar chords filled the silence. 

It was hard to keep track of time. Five songs? Six songs? Maybe an hour? Both of you had made a lot of progress with the walls. It didn’t matter.  What did matter was Felix. Halfway through the third or fourth song, you noticed Felix singing to himself.

 It was barely audible, he probably wasn’t even aware of it. But his voice was soothing. And soft. 

You had never heard him sing before. You wished you did. You could listen to it forever. Felix’s singing voice felt like sweaters and cozy winter days. 

You didn’t say anything. You knew he’d be embarrassed if he knew you noticed. But the rest of the painting session gave you butterflies, to say the least.

-

It was a chilly day. Felix was hunched over his stovetop making ramen while you dramatically read out a fanfic to him from the table. You just finished the kissing scene when Felix let out a disappointed sigh.

“I know right?” You commented.

“I don’t get it. Don’t you think they’d make way more sense as just friends?”

“Waaaay more sense. I feel like the kiss scene is just so unnecessary.”

“I don’t get why writers think everything should have romance in it. I mean, love is friendship right? I mean, for me, it is.”

Your heart stopped. A smile crept up your face. You continued reading out the fanfic, but you didn’t focus on it at all. Because Felix said love is friendship. Love is friendship. Love is friendship!

-

It was a cold night. You were all bundled up in bed with a hoodie and a blanket. Felix was on the phone with you, refusing to hang up despite being half-asleep.

“Seriously Felix, you can’t even keep your eyes open”

“Mm. But I want to talk to you”, he yawned. His half-asleep voice was deeper than usual and very quiet.

“Alright bub. What do you want to talk about?” You started to feel sleepy too. 

“I don’t know. Maybe how amazing you are?”

You laughed. “Fuck off”

“No but… your hair is so soft. And your coffee is really good. And you’re awesome. What the heck. I love you.” he said. He spoke slowly. You could tell he was almost asleep. 

“I love you too you beautiful bastard”

You were met with the sounds of soft breathing.

Felix was very endearing when he was half-asleep. 

-

It was a rainy day, rain knocking against Felix’s living room windows. Felix shared a blanket with you atop the couch. You leaned on Felix, your head on his chest. His heartbeat  synced with the rain on the window. Felix’s arm draped your side. Both of you focused on the movie in front of you. It was a good one so far. The plot was well written, and the actors were doing a good job. 

A door creaked open behind you. Felix and you turned to look at the source.

Felix's roommate, Minho  entered the living room. He looked well dressed in a leather jacket and chunky black boots. "Do you think Jisung will like the jacket?", he asked Felix.

"He's gonna love it", Felix replied, smirking.

“Alright, I gotta go”, Minho said, picking up his umbrella and walking to the door. He looked at you. “Sorry we couldn’t talk today, y/n, but have fun with your boyfriend”.

He was already out the door before either of you could protest. Felix looked at you awkwardly before turning back to the TV. Felix was not your boyfriend. And clearly he wasn’t very comfortable being called that. To be fair, neither were you.

 “I’m sorry about him”, he sighed. Both of you looked everywhere but each other.

“Don’t be," you said, “ I know people think we’re dating because we’re comfortable with each other and stuff.”

“Right. But hey, you’re my best friend and you always will be.”

You smiled. “You too”.

It was nice being best friends with Felix. Everytime you’ve been this close with someone, they all seemed to expect more. They all seemed to expect romance. But that just didn’t work for you. Romance was weird.

You’re my best friend and you always will be. 

Felix wouldn’t mind, would he? Probably not. But what if he’s mad you didn’t tell him yet? What if he thinks you don’t trust him? Or maybe his whole view on you will change and maybe he won’t like you after that. What if that happens?

You’re my best friend and you always will be. 

You’re his best friend and you always will be. It’ll be alright. It’ll be harder the longer you wait right? 

What if he really will be mad at you though? He’s your best friend, why haven’t you told him yet?

A mere few seconds passed before you shifted off his chest. Felix sat up, sensing your tension. He paused the movie. "Y/N?"

Fuck it. It’s too late to ignore this now. You looked into his eyes before turning away.  “I’ve been holding off on telling you something.”

Felix’s voice filled with concern. “Tell me.”

You took a breath, trying to keep yourself from panicking. You were too nervous to look at him. “Minho joked about us being together and I know neither of us see each other in a romantic way, but I just… I don’t know why I haven’t told you this yet. But… it’s not just you. I don’t feel romantic attraction to anyone. I’m aromantic.” 

Felix put his hand on your shoulder and moved closer to you. Your thoughts were still racing, your heart rate still high, your breath still shaky. You were still too nervous to look at him.

You kept going, “I haven’t told you this. I know. And I’m sorry. But you’re still my best friend and I hope you don’t think I don’t trust you or something. I love you, okay? I just… I guess I just don’t like coming out. But I just had to today for some reason. I’m sorry if this makes you view me differently.” You thoughts were still racing after you said what you wanted to say. Your hands shook slightly.

And Felix noticed all of that.

He put his hand on top of yours. “Y/N”, he said gently.

You hesitated, then looked at him. His eyes were warm. His smile was understanding - the smile of someone who’s done this before. The smile of someone who’s already dealt with the emotions you were having. He gently pushed your head back onto his chest. “Breathe with me.”

His chest raised as he took a breath. You closed your eyes and took a breath too. He let it out in a few seconds. So did you. He took in another breath. 

Felix spoke softly. “Coming out is hard. Even if it’s to someone you love. What you just did there takes so much courage. And I’m so, so proud of you. I love you so much. And our love doesn’t have to be romantic for it to be deep. I love you. And nothing will change that.”

You buried yourself in his chest.

 His chest rose and fell with every breath he took. You breathed with him. His heartbeat was calming. 

 I love you. And nothing will change that.

“Thank you.” you said. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Felix?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it weird?”, you said quietly, “That we’re always so close together? I really like being with you. And hugging you. And cuddling you. But I won’t do it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No. It’s not weird. Not to me. I love this. And we can do this all day long without it meaning anything more than friendship.” Felix gave you a forehead kiss. “Besides,” he said, “What good are best friends if they don’t give you hugs?”

You hugged him tighter. “I love you so much”

“I love you so much too.” His voice was warm and kind and understanding. You didn’t bother holding back the tears. 

Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And Lee Felix was the sun, giving you warmth and love and reasons to wake up. Lee Felix was a sweet boy. And the universe was a thing of beauty to let your love shine through.

a/n: this took a really long time to write bc of personal stuff im sorry, but this req made me realize i was aromantic skaskdlkdlk :’D. remember my requests are open so feel free to request stuff from me and i’ll try not to take eight years to do it. take care yall

[queenxxxsupreme]

Run

Part 2

A/N: Here is part 1 in case you missed it. So I lied. This is not the final part to this little mini series. I’m going ONE more part. One more. Just one. I keep reminding myself just one. 

Word Count: 5.2k

Warning: none, maybe angst?

Summary: Geralt meets a princess who is bored with life and wishes for excitement.

You’d been in your room for two days now. You refused to leave, refused to interact with anyone. Any semblance of hope you had for escaping the hell that was your life died the night Geralt so quickly shut down the very idea of him assisting you in escaping. 

You were resting on one of the ledges in a window in your room, eyes focused out of the window. Your legs were curled up alongside you, a pillow in your lap. 

From as high up in the castle as you were, you could just barely see the city walls and the green rolling hills that rested beyond it. It was heartbreaking to be able to see what you wanted, what you longed for, but never actually being able to get there. 

There was a knock on the door to your room. You paid it no attention, instead sighing softly. 

“Princess?” Mousesack opened the door and stepped in. “The Queen sent me to check on you.”

You didn’t acknowledge him. 

“I know you can hear me, princess.” He moved further into the room, hands clasped behind his back. 

Your fingers tightened on the pillow in your grip. 

“Something troubles you.” He stated. “Your grandmother says that you haven’t spoken to anyone in two days. The garden is completely dead. Your precious flowers-,”

“I don’t want the gods damned flowers!” You cut him off, turning your head to look at him. “I don’t want to talk to anyone, Mousesack!”

He watched you for a few moments, holding your fiery gaze. You looked away, shaking your head. 

“Fate is a cruel whore.”

“All this anger over something which you cannot control.” Mousesack leaned against the wall that your window was cut out of. “Anger blinds the body of any other emotion. It makes its captor fixate on what makes them angry.”

You were silent. 

“You’re young, princess. Once you’ve become queen, you can have anything you want in the world. You can travel and visit places you’ve never been.”

His words did little to comfort you. You didn’t want to be queen.

“You haven’t eaten in two days.” Mousesack said. “Tonight is your grandmother’s birthday celebration. She’d love to see you there.”

When you offered no reply or even so much as a look in his direction, he left. 

***

Outside of your room, Mousesack found Geralt. The witcher has been busy with the duty he was given by the Queen. 

“Have you ran into Calanthe yet?” Mousesack asked. 

“No.” 

“Good. Avoid her at all costs.”

“That’s what I try to do.”

Mousesack stopped and turned to face the witcher. 

“What did you do to the princess?”

“What are you talking about?” Geralt drew his brows together. 

“Two nights ago at the gala, Calanthe saw you leave with the princess. One of her guards followed you both but he said he was blocked from entering the garden. Ever since that night, Y/N has been in her room. She hasn’t spoken to anyone or eaten anything.”

“And you suspect I did something to her?” Geralt tilted his head to the side just a little. 

“You’re the last one she spoke to.”

Geralt locked his jaw, looking to the door of your room. Should he tell Mousesack what you asked of him? Or should he cover for you in case you did plan to run away?

The White Wolf could hear footsteps coming up behind him. It was Calanthe and a group of guards. 

Calanthe pulled a sword from one of the guards and placed the blade on Geralt’s shoulder, ready to behead him. 

“What did you do to my granddaughter, beast?” She growled, hardened eyes focused on him. 

Geralt turned, unaffected by the blade now being pressed against his throat. 

“I’ve done nothing to her.” He held her gaze. 

“You did something. She’s fallen ill-,”

“She isn’t ill. She’s sick of this place.” Geralt swatted the sword away from him. This caused the guards flanking the queen to draw their swords. She put her hand up to stop them. She wanted to hear what the witcher had to say. “She told me of how she doesn’t wish to be queen. She wants to leave, to flee Cintra before she becomes queen.”

“I know Y/N hates the thought of being queen, but she’s never expressed a desire to leave.”

“Then you’ve clearly not been listening to a damn thing she’s said. The second I saw her, I knew she couldn’t stand being here. She doesn’t want to be here. She longs for more than royal duties and banquets.”

“Mousesack, did you try to speak to her?” Calanthe took her eyes from Geralt to look at the druid. 

“I did, but she didn't want to talk to me or anyone else.”

Calanthe was silent for a few moments, trying to think of what needed to be done. 

“I expect you to complete your job by tonight’s banquet, witcher.” She told him, passing him to go to the door to your chambers. 

She knocked twice before opening the door. 

You were still sitting in the window ledge, the anger that had once crossed your features was replaced with something more docile, something more saddening

Calanthe moved to sit on the ledge by your feet, reaching up to gently stroke your hair. You turned your head to her, meeting her worried gaze. 

“I know this isn't easy for you, Y/N.” Her words were soft and gentle. “But your blood entitles you to this life.”

“I just want to see more than Cintra, grandmother.” You murmured quietly, leaning into her touch as she stroked your cheek. 

“You know that I keep you from leaving the city because it's dangerous out there, Y/N. You are the heir to the throne of Cintra. Our people’s future rests on your shoulders and because of that, you can't be putting yourself into potentially dangerous situations.”

You turned your head away from her, nodding softly. Hearing what she said made you sick. It made your stomach twist and knot up. 

“Have you a dress for tonight’s banquet?” Calanthe stood to her feet. 

“Yes.” You gave a monotone answer. You didn't really have a dress. You had plenty in your wardrobe to pick from. But you wouldn't be attending the banquet. 

“I’ll see you tonight, my dear.” Calanthe leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

The door to your room closed quietly behind her. 

You brought your knees to your chest, arms wrapping securely around them. 

***

The falling sun was warm as its light peaked through trees at the far end of the garden. Your fingertips brushed across the stone wall that surrounded the garden you once deemed a haven. 

You stopped at the entrance to the garden, your hands tugging the hood to your dark red cloak over your head. Then one of your hands went to the strap to the bag tucked safely beneath your cloak. 

Though your mind was running at a speed which you couldn't keep up with, you couldn't find a single thought to focus on. Your heart was beating slowly, steadily. 

This was your only chance to escape, your only chance for freedom. Everyone within the castle was bustling around to make sure the queen’s banquet was perfect and last minute things were taken care of. No one would focus on you and your whereabouts. You'd stayed in your room for the last two days. For all they knew, that was where you stayed. 

You stepped into the garden, guilt weighing heavy on your heart. The plant life had suffered greatly with your  sour emotions. Everything was wilted and dead, a nasty brown color opposed to beautiful green. 

You moved through the garden with slow and quiet steps, breathing evenly as you focused on bringing the garden back to life. 

You stopped at one of the ponds, spotting a frog sitting on a lily pad. You knelt down by the pond, dipping your fingers into the cold water. 

You could feel someone enter the garden, their footsteps nearly silent but weighed heavy on the vines that crossed the walkway. You looked over your shoulder to see Geralt. Quickly you looked away from him and stood up, making your way towards the back of the garden. 

“I can hear your footsteps, Princess.” His voice was low but bounced off of the stone walls within the garden. 

You said nothing in reply to him. Would he try to make you stay? Or would he tell your grandmother of your escape? Would he notify the guards and have them chance you down before you could get very far? 

At the very back of the garden in the southwest corner was a thick hedge, nestled into the stone wall. As you approached it, the hedge died, it's decaying branches falling to the ground to reveal an opening in the stone wall. You stepped over them and just as quickly as you slipped out of the small opening, you made the hedge come back to life and sealed the exit with thick vines. 

You turned your back on the castle, eyes gliding over a small meadow just beyond castle was.

When you were young, you'd sneak out of the castle and sit in the meadow at night. You did this for weeks until one of your servants noticed your absence. After everyone freaked out and panicked, your secret escape was discovered. 

The sound of something heavy landing behind you made you spin around. Geralt stood there in his armor, looking down at you. He had scaled the wall and jump down upon seeing you exit the garden. 

“You can't stop me!” You told him, taking a step away from him. Your hold on your bag tightened, fearing you'd have to run from the witcher.

“I'm not going to stop you. Where do you plan on going?”

“I don't have to say shit to you.” You turned away from him but he wasn't letting you go just like that. He placed his hand on your arm and turned you around to face him. 

“If you haven't got a plan, you'll end up dead in a week.”

“Good.” You jerked your arm out of his grip and started through the meadow. The moon wasn't full but it was bright enough to light your way. 

You couldn’t hear his footsteps but you could feel them through the grass. He was a surprisingly silent walker. 

Irritation festered in your veins and you couldn't handle it for very long. You turned to face him. 

“Why are you following me? Just two days ago you said I could find out how to escape on my own. I have, so let me be.”

“I didn't think you'd actually be stupid enough to do it.”

“Is it stupid to want more from life? To want to make your life better?” You asked him, tilting your head to the side. He said nothing to you. “You said that you were dealt a life you didn't ask for. Have you made any attempts to make your life what you wanted from it?”

“Why can't you just be happy to be alive?” His words came out through gritted teeth. He was at war with himself, trying to tell himself that he needed to go tell Mousesack or even Calanthe that you were trying to run away. But another part of him wanted to go with you, to leave for Kaer Morhen where you'd be safe and where you had the potential to be happy. 

“I want more than to just live, Geralt of Rivia!” You raised your voice, though it threatened to crack as you continued. “I want to feel the rain against my skin without a servant hurrying me inside in fear that I will catch a cold! I want to witness the sun rise from a cliff top in Skellige! I want to taste the salt from the sea that linger in the air in Novigrad! I want to hear music from the famed bards of Oxenfurt and not our shitty ones here in Cintra!”

You paused for a moment, searching his eyes as tears glossed your own. You weren't too sure why you were crying but you were sure it was because you thought he wouldn't let you leave Cintra. 

“I-I  want to meet a man and-and fall in love with him on my own terms. I don't want my life set out in front of me like some strategic plan for battle. I want to live not knowing what I will have for dinner tomorrow or even not knowing if I will wake the next morn.”

When the last word rolled off your tongue, you took a shaky deep breath, wiping the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. 

“I can't allow you to make me stay here.” You told him, softly shaking your head. Your hand by your side turned so your palm was towards him. You lifted your hand up and as you did so, vines shot from the ground and wrapped around his legs. 

“Y/N!” He growled, fighting the plants that were rendering him immobile. 

“I-I’m sorry, Geralt. You left me no choice.” 

You turned away from him and crossed the meadow, disappearing into the forest on the other side. 

***

A twig snapped, making you still your movements. 

The night was quiet. Some time ago, the sounds of wildlife had fallen silent. There was no longer the chirping of cicadas or the chattering of raccoons. You were left in complete silence and it made your skin crawl. 

You looked around, eyes wide as you searched for anything but you could see nothing. Everything was black. 

You began to turn around, feeling as though there was some force behind you. 

A hand clasped around your mouth, covering your nose too. In the same instant, an arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back into a hard chest. You tried to cry out, tried to scream, but the hand muffled any noise and stopped you from being able to take in a breath. 

“It's just me, princess.” Geralt breathed against your ear. You muffled out a few curse words, throwing your elbow back in an attempt to catch him in the ribs. It didn't seem to affect him. “I'm going to let you go but I need you to be silent. There's a foglet not too far from you.”

Your heart was beating in your ears and you couldn't help but struggle against him. Your lungs screamed for oxygen. 

“Stay still.” His voice and breath sent shivers down your spine. 

He was suddenly gone and you could breathe, though you did your best to keep quiet. 

Something cried out and then there was the sound of a sword cutting through a body. 

You could no longer stand to breathe through your nose, unable to pull in enough oxygen. 

A hand was placed on your shoulder. 

“How did you find me?”

“You've managed to go in circles for the last two hours. Tracking you wasn't difficult.”

“How far away from the castle am I?”

“Perhaps an hour’s journey.”

“Fuck.” You cursed, bringing your hand up to rub your temple. 

“If you would've listened to me earlier, we'd be further away from here than we are now.” Geralt muttered. His touch left your arm and you panicked for a moment, fearing he was leaving you. Then his hand was placed on the small of your back. 

“You…. You were going to go with me?” You furrowed your brows together. 

He hummed an affirmation. 

“Why did it take you so long to find me?”

“After escaping those damned vines, I returned to the castle to finish my job. Calanthe paid me and sent me on my way.”

“Did she say anything about me?” You asked.

“I heard her a few times mention you but my guess is that she just assumed you were staying in your room.” 

In the darkness, you didn't see a tree root jutting out of the ground. You tripped and stumbled but Geralt held you firmly, one hand on your back and the other on your arm. 

“We’re nearly there.”

“Where are you taking me?” 

With your sight being useless, your ears picked up on his breathing. It was steady and quiet, something that you found oddly comforting. 

“To the main road. Roach and your horse are waiting there for us. Once we get to them, we’ll travel until sunrise.”

“What after that?”

“I'll tell you when the time comes.”

You stopped suddenly. Geralt sighed heavily and tried to budge you to get you to move. If he tried hard enough, you knew he could make you move, but he only gave you a firm nudge. 

“I don't want to be kept in the shadows, Geralt. I've been kept from things my entire life. If you are going to travel with me, you're going to tell me everything. I want no secrets.”

“If I were to leave you to travel alone, you’d wind up right back at the castle. Your sense of direction is horrendous.”

He had a point, but you were too stubborn to say he was right. 

“When the sun comes up, we will hopefully be in a village six hours from the castle. There's an inn there we will stay at until early evening.” He gave you one final push and you moved, allowing him to guide you to the main road. 

“Is that how all of our traveling is going to be? Moving at night and resting during the day?”

“At least until we get to Redania.”

When you finally got to the road, you could see the faint outline of your white mare. You smiled, happy that you wouldn't have to leave her. 

Onc Geralt was sure you were on your horse, he mounted Roach and held on to the reins to Boots. This allowed him to guide your horse since you couldn't properly lead yourself. 

You were overjoyed and excited. Geralt would ensure you got to wherever it was you wanted to go. 

***

When the sun came up, Geralt made sure you had your hood on your head. He told you to keep your head down while he went in to the inn to get a room for the night. You offered him some of your coin but he declined, muttering a ‘no’ before moving away from you and the two horses. 

You kept your head down, brushing your fingers over the fine leather of Boots’s saddle. You were exhausted, having traveled all night. You hadn't gotten much sleep in the few days leading up to your escape from the castle. But you forced your eyes open, wanting to take in every little detail of your journey. 

Geralt returned to you shortly. 

“I’ll take you up to the room and then take them to the stables outside of town.”

You nodded softly, sliding down from your horse with ease. 

The second Geralt closed the door to your room behind himself, you settled on one side of the bed, closing your eyes. 

***

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, braiding your hair over your shoulder as you watched the sun set through a window in the room. You'd been up for a while but hadn't ventured out of the room. You weren't too sure if leaving the room to find Geralt would be a good idea. You didn’t want to jeopardize your escape by risking the possibility of someone recognizing you.

Just as you finished the braid, the door to the room opened. 

“Good. You’re awake.” He crossed the room to pick up his bag from the floor. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” You firmly nodded your head, a little smile coming to your lips as you looked at him. “I never had a chance last night to thank you for helping me.”

“Don't thank me yet. Calanthe is sure to have the entire Cintran military searching for you. Perhaps even Skellige.” 

“Is leaving now safe?”

“We leave now, or we risk running into a caravan of soldiers later on tonight. Word’s spread quick. I overheard someone downstairs saying they're coming to every town and searching every household.”

“That’s ridiculous.” You shook your head. 

“You're the only heir Calanthe has, and she loves you dearly. She'd do anything for you.”

“Not anything.” You picked up your bag after slipping your cloak on. “I am ready.”

***

The sun had yet to set but you two were making good time on your journey. You had decided earlier to give him a break so you were walking. Geralt walked alongside you, humming every now and then to something you said but he didn't really care to listen to. 

You came to a stop. You turned your head to survey the woods to your right and then to your left. 

“Come on, princess.” Geralt told you.

“There's something in the woods.” 

“It's hard to tell what-,”

“It’s dead.” You passed him the reins to Boots and took off into the woods, grabbing fistfuls of your skirts. 

“Y/N!” He gritted his teeth together. “Damn it!”

You moved swiftly through the trees and undergrowth. Your heart was beating heavily in your chest. While you were unsure of what exactly made you dash off in such a hurry, you knew exactly when to stop. Laying in a patch of sunlight that broke through the canopy was the corpse of a deer. You stopped just a few feet from it, your heart jumping to your throat at the sight of the creature. The air in your lungs was forced out with a shaky breath. 

Geralt was right behind you, brows drawn together and ready to shout all the reason why you shouldn’t have run away from him. He noticed the way your shoulders slumped and how your heart was beating fast. Your lips were parted and tears were in your eyes. 

“It-It’s dead.” You whispered. He looked past your shoulder to see the animal.

“Looks like it had a broken leg. Starved to death.” Geralt took note of the lack of scavenging. It must’ve died within the day. 

You moved towards it, hands fisting your skirts so that it wouldn’t be tugged on the undergrowth. You all but collapsed to your knees by its head, your hand stroking the reddish brown fur on its neck. Its dark eyes were glazed over. 

Geralt wanted to say something but he could feel a sudden rush in his head and he felt a little dizzy. There was a shift in the energy in the air. Your magic was strong and potent. It was electrifying and made his skin tingle. 

With your hand on its neck, you breathed evenly, focusing on healing the doe and bringing her back to life. Within seconds, the creature blinked and jolted awake, scrambling to get to her feet. You watched in awe as she ran off into the woods, making her hasty getaway. 

Geralt’s enhanced hearing was able to catch the sound of beating hooves against the dirt road where he’d left Roach and Boots. 

“Princess, we must go.”

You nodded softly, standing to your feet and rubbing your hands together. But as soon as you were on your feet, your head spun. Geralt was by your side in an instant, his arm sturdy around your waist. 

“Are you okay?” 

You nodded in reply. 

***

You knelt down by the small fire, warming your hands a safe distance from the flames. Geralt sat across the fire from you, messing with one of his swords. You stood up, brushing the dust and dirt from your skirts, then sat down against a tree not too far from the fire. 

“How did you do that earlier?” He lifted his head to look across the fire at you. 

“I did the same as I do with my plants.” You shrugged your shoulders softly. You weren't entirely sure what you had done, but you did it the same way you fixed your plants that were wilting or dead. 

“How could you sense it all the way from the road?” Geralt sheathed his sword and placed it aside. 

“I can…. I don't know. It’s like I can feel things through the plants. Like….” You looked around the little makeshift campsite. Your eyes landed on Geralt. “Just behind you in the woods behind a honeysuckle bush is an animal. A fox.”

The witcher nodded. He could hear the quiet creature’s heartbeat. 

“Is it weird that I can do that? I can move plants?” Your voice lowered to a timid murmur. 

“It isn't something that the average human can do, but I wouldn't call it weird.”

You dropped your gaze to the fire, a soft smile finding its way to your lips. 

A sudden gust of wind blew through. You shivered, holding your cloak tight to your form. 

“You chose a shit time to leave.” Geralt sighed as he stood to his feet and moved around the fire to get to your side. “Traveling north isn't something many do in the winter.”

You watched him closely, unsure of what he was doing. He sat down beside you.

“Want me to keep you warm?” You asked him, softly teasing him. 

He muttered something incoherent under his breath. You scooted closer to him so you could tuck yourself into his side. He hesitantly put his arm around you, allowing you to sink further into his side. 

***

As days passed, you drew closer and closer to the border of Cintra. Geralt said you would go through Sodden to cross over the Yaruga river. From there, he said you would have better luck traveling without worrying about Calanthe’s military. 

It was a calm night. The air was bitter but the moon was shining brightly in the sky. The canopy above the trees prevented you from seeing the moon but you didn't mind. 

You sat near the fire, playing with a twig to keep your hands occupied. Geralt had gone off into the woods to search for better firewood. Apparently just any log wouldn't work. 

You had enjoyed every second of your journey with the witcher. A ball of tension was knotting up in your stomach. He mentioned earlier that you'd only have two more days until you reached Sodden. After that, you'd part ways. You'd never see the White Wolf again. 

You jumped when an armful of logs hit the ground with a loud pound. 

“Thought I told you to listen for any unwanted company.” He sat down a few feet away to mess with the fire. 

“I was.”

“No, you weren't. If you were listening, I wouldn't have scared you.”

You brought your eyes down to the twig in your hand. 

Geralt could see that you were deep in thought still. You were physically there next to him, but your mind was a hundred miles away.

“What's on your mind?” He asked quietly. You shrugged your shoulders. “Are you regretting leaving?”

“No.” You answered quickly, bringing your eyes up to him. “I regret nothing.”

“Then why do you look so lost?”

“I was just…. just thinking about the man my grandmother was going to marry me off to.” You brushed the pad of your thumb over the twig. “His name is Phillip. He’s a knight.”

“The one you were dancing with at your banquet?”

“That is him. He was the one who gave me the rose the day of my banquet.” 

Geralt watched as the twig in your hand trembled and turned green. A red rose bloomed right before his eyes.

“I feel quite sorry for him.” You leaned forward to toss the rose into the fire. “He thought he had a chance at taking my hand, at being king. He always treated me like a child. And his chivalry….” Your nose crinkled up like you were disgusted by the thought. 

Geralt chuckled just a little. 

“Don't get me wrong. He was handsome.” Your eyes flickered over to the witcher. “But he only had flowers to give.”

“And you want more than just flowers.” Geralt remembered the conversation you had the day he found you sitting in the window in the library. “Tell me, princess. What is it that qualifies as more than flowers in your book?”

A grin cracked across your lips and you brushed your hair back. 

“Well, master witcher. For example, all Phillip had to offer me was his bad jokes and long life within the castle. You….” You trailed off, unable to catch yourself. 

Geralt tilted his head up a little more, holding your gaze. You cleared your throat and directed your eyes to the fire. 

“A man like you, for example, would have more to offer. A life of excitement and adventure.”

“You’d be mistaken if you think my life is all excitement and adventure, princess.”

“Oh, I know it isn’t. A life of excitement and adventure doesn’t gift you with scars.” You lowered your voice to be more gentle. “I’m not naive to the cost that comes with being a witcher, Geralt. I’ve heard of how terrifying and traumatizing it is to become one. Very few chose to become witchers.”

You weren’t even sure where you were going with your rambling anymore. You couldn’t explain to him what you meant when you said excitement and adventure. You couldn’t explain it without letting him know that the journey with him had been one you will never forget. It was exciting and wondrous. The thought of parting ways with him saddened you. 

“It’s getting late.” Geralt commented, ending the very poor conversation right there. 

You nodded your head and watched him settle down. You shivered a little, crossing your arms tightly over yourself. You stood to your feet and moved around the fire. His eyes followed you the entire time. 

“I’m cold.” You told him, laying down in front of him. You scooted back until your back was pressed to his chest. He seemed to stiffen up at your actions but said nothing. With a heavy exhale, which tickled your neck, he put his arm around you and held you close. 

You smiled a little, glad that he didn’t try to stop you. 

Geralt couldn’t deny that he wasn’t looking forward to leaving you once you reached Sodden. While he didn’t usually care for company during his travels, he enjoyed having you by his side. You were fascinated with everything. You’d stop at the sight of rabbits running across the road, smiling as you watched where they disappeared in the undergrowth. You’d stop to marvel at a mother goose that was herding her little goslings around a pond. You giggled rather joyously as a flock of little birds emerged from thick bushes, chirping and flying towards the canopy that provided shade over the road. You’d gasp at the sight of a butterfly, watching it flutter past you. Your happiness was contagious, your smile made him smile. 

Geralt had never been able to smell your happiness. At the castle, you were bitter and bored, but in the woods you were free to do whatever pleased your heart. 

Geralt swore he’d never seen someone so fascinated with every little living thing in the forest. He knew the time to part ways was drawing near, but he couldn’t help dragging it out. Leaving you was something he wanted to avoid at all costs. 

Unbeknownst to you, he chose the more scenic route to offer you different views and sights he thought you'd like. These scenic routes were out of the way but your reactions were well worth the added on time. 

It was a shame he couldn’t keep you by his side after you reached Sodden.

Taglist: @riviawitch3r @notyouraveragemochii @dev1lbella @rosyghosty @merendis @lalalalemonade11 @wayward-dream @whatanicepanohthatsjustme @tshuuls @havenoffandoms @queen-sands @crazzyter @katiejmac @bucky-did-nothing-wrong @jennylovelyheart @whitewolfandthefox @itsallyouhavegotinsideyourhead @hm-fck @mactho @msgeorgiarae @tragicmisfits @randomzxx @alwayshave-faith@rahdaleigh @lizliz3107 @turtlefordestiel @d14n4ol @asix122747483 @minervalavender @agniavateira @hina-chans-stuff @dressed-up-heartbreak @persephonehemingway @bitterstar88 @scarlettwitcher @ayamenimthiriel @romancebibliophilia @jessevans @xoxoarts @jocelynscloset @soulslaststand @grumgoblin @thefishmongersdaughterwrites @silverkitten547 @rebel4fandom

[themissingmarvel]

Kind Regards, Detective [Part 1]

(Prompt: I did it. I finally did it.This is one of many chapters. I started this a solid six months ago, or so, and struggled. But it’s based off “Prisoners (2013)” with Jake Gyllenhaal who I’m lowkey in love with. That said, having seen the movie is helpful but not life altering. Takes place present day, years after the case was solved. And seeing as Conyers is fictional [well, Conyers, Pennsylvania] I took liberties with where it’s located in Pennsylvania. Sue me. Just be glad I didn’t choose Scranton. I almost did.

And as someone with a forensic psychology background, I tried to keep it pretty on point which means it’s a little more boring than the movies make it out to be.)

Pairing: Detective Loki (David) x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Language. Mentions of abuse.Brooding.

+++

Detective Loki wasn’t happy.

Well, he wasn’t usually a ray of sunshine, but today he really wasn’t happy.

An understatement, to be sure.

Detective Loki was filled with fury and a sort of passionate anger you could taste, if only he opened his mouth long enough to let it escape his lips.

But he didn’t.

Looking at him, standing in front of the whiteboard in the large conference room in the precinct, anyone would think him an average detective doing his work. The sleeves on his white button-down were clasped at his wrists, his shirt buttoned right up to the neck as it always was and without a tie. Unusual, but not strange in any way. Black pants hung off his hips, a black belt holding them up, his badge and gun strapped to him. His dark hair, as always, was slicked back and his icy eyes were focused.

He looked like an average detective. A gorgeous one, to be sure. He’d had his share of married women coming in for ‘noise complaints’ just to try and catch a glimpse of the man. And his heart, of course, that gentle space he pretended wasn’t so soft, had given him away. He was average as hell, save for the collection of tattoos he had gained in his troubled youth, at least. 

Everyone in the damn precinct knew he wasn’t. Average, that is.

“Detective Loki? Agent (Y/L/N) is here. Should I send her in?” The young officer had pulled the short straw, a rookie kid who had started a few months ago. David didn’t know him well, but he did know his name. He knew everyone’s name.

Blinking hard a few times he placed his hands on his hips, eyes staying focused on the whiteboard, “Don’t really have a choice do I, Anders?” It was rhetorical. He knew he didn’t have a choice and he was vaguely aware Officer Anders would be too nervous to answer.

A moment of silence lapsed before Detective Loki rubbed his face, “Send her in.”

The Captain had warned Loki about this days ago. The disappearances in Conyers, they had realized, were not just isolated to Conyers. They spanned into Noxen, Benton, White Haven, and even out to Catawissa. 

After ten disappearances were linked together from the different towns and cities, the Feds were finally called in.

“With all due respect, Captain, I can work this case on my own.” David’s voice had been collected at first as he stood in the Captain’s office, hands on his hips, eyes narrowed.

The Captain looked frustrated. He was, really. He’d been on the phone with five different precincts to coordinate information and speaking with the Feds on how to proceed. Everyone was pissed. No one ever wanted the Feds involved, “I get it, Detective, but orders are orders, you know that. And the Bureau wants us to let one of theirs in. I don’t get a say, and frankly neither do you.”

His voice raised now, “What about the Dover and Birch case? I got those sons of bitches on my own, the Feds didn’t even know about it until I caught them!” He was leaning forward.

O’Malley had gone from frustrated to pissed, “Just shut up for once and cooperate, OK? You work alone, I get it, but with the Black Rose case the Feds are involved and you’re gonna have to play nice. Or at least tolerable, understood?” 

Looking at the pallid yellow wall to the left of him, David kept his eyes narrowed, his mouth in a straight line. Unspeaking, he turned and walked out of the office. 

Fucking Feds.

Fucking Feds indeed. Footsteps, soft and light, were muffled still by the old, grey carpet with strange geometric patterns on it in the building as she walked towards the conference room. The case was already drilled into her head. Names. Dates. Locations. Buildings. Abduction theories. So far, Conyers had three of the ten abductions which was why they had sent (Y/N). 

Other precincts had also gotten federal agents, but Conyers was special. Detective Loki was special. That was part of the problem.

When she stepped in Loki didn’t even flinch, save for the sharp blinks as he stared at the board. There were faces, three in fact, two men and one woman, smiling brightly. Next to each was the location of abduction. How did they know?

“Kind regards to Detective Loki,” (Y/N) broke the silence as she walked to the circular table nearby, placing her stack of folders and black messenger bag down. She was, of course, reading off of the note left with the black rose at each location the abductions had taken place.

David turned, a reminder flashing in his head to play nice, reaching out to take the woman’s hand, “Detective Loki. You’re Agent Y/L/N, correct?” 

She was surprisingly stunning, he realized as he took her soft hand, stained lightly with blots of ink. Y/N looked softer than he expected, not like someone who’d ‘seen some shit’ in their day. He imagined on the street he’d have done a double take, subtly, if she walked by. He wanted so bad for her to be ghastly. Appalling. For her breath to smell and for her to sound whiny. He wanted a reason to be irked by her but so far all he found was that she was… lovely.

She smiled gently, “I am. Pleasure to meet you, Detective,” she took his hand firmly, shaking it, the tattoos not going unnoticed. Not much had, really. She knew about David. She’d asked for his file and his background. His cases solved. Any reports. And per her own curiosity, she had asked for a personal history on file. It had surprised her, just slightly, that he’d made his way from a delinquent boys’ home with dabbling in petty crimes in his youth to a top ranking detective. It wasn’t a common theme. But he was a good man, despite everything she read. He had taken the Dover and Birch case hard, forced to take a leave after it all settled. No follow-up evaluation was done in small towns like this. 

When Loki drew his hand back he kept his lips pursed into a thin line, turning back to the board, “So the feds wanted a shrink involved? Did they send a shrink to every location or just Conyers?” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by the woman standing in a simple grey sweater hanging loosely off her shoulders and a pair of blue jeans and black Converse shoes. Not exactly ‘shrink’ material, really. Not that one would notice. Except David. He liked it, though. He liked that she seemed to fit and that she wasn’t trying too hard. Or being blase about the whole thing. He liked that she wanted to talk about the case and not prod about how he was doing or how cold it was. She was his type.

Fuck.

She inhaled sharply. Yale didn’t prepare you for how to deal with cops in high-profile cases. The bureau had warned her that she’d be unwelcomed and especially given she was a profiler; she was the one with the psych background. Sure, she’d done her criminology bit, but she’d never used her weapon. Hell, she didn’t even keep it holstered on her person. But Detective Loki knew that. She was that type.

“Well, Detective, Conyers was where the first two abductions took place, though the third a couple weeks after. And as you well know, your name was personally left at all scenes. Of course, in the other cities Detectives Miller, Warren, Riley, and O’Toole were all named in their notes as well. I suspect that if we don’t get moving soon, more notes and more roses will come up. I’m here because this is where it started and profilers start at the beginning.” Her voice had stayed steady and cool as she watched him, her form and posture unmoving, his doing the same.

The world paused for just a moment as she eyed David. Detective Loki. Man hardened by the system who had saved the lives of many. Who had rescued a father trapped and left for dead. She saw the religious-themed tattoos, the juvie ones on his knuckles. She saw his clean cut hair, shaven face, shirt buttoned higher than most but with no tie to speak of. She liked that. He stood out without actually standing out. And god… he was hot. Ah, shit. No. Stay professional.

It was quiet as (Y/N) stepped up to the board, able to see that while half focused on Conyers, the other had the abduction sites and pictures as well as the detectives named. There appeared to be no pattern. Nothing as of yet. Just names. Detectives.

“May I be candid with you, Detective?” She stood next to him, arms crossed in front of her chest as she stared at the white board.

Almost confused, David glanced over, not making a comment about being informal, “Sure.”

She sighed heavily, closing her eyes a moment and composing herself before looking back up at the board, “I don’t think any of them are alive.” 

A look of anger fell over Detective Loki’s features, though perhaps not directed at Y/N as he turned to her completely, “How the fuck would you know that?” 

On some level, he knew it.

Hostile. Well, of course.

“I don’t think they lived long after being abducted, Detective. I don’t think any of them did. Why kidnap ten adults and just… keep them?” She looked over at him, aware she’d hit a nerve.

Loki was perturbed as he narrowed his eyes, “We didn’t find any evidence of a struggle at any of the scenes. No blood, nothing broken, all perfect. Why take people peacefully then kill them?” He was drawing on his many years of detective work, and (Y/N) knew that. He was bright and he was skilled. It was why he had been allowed to work as the lead. The other detectives named hadn’t been so lucky. They were all too involved. At least, they weren’t as good at hiding it as David was.

But she shrugged, “Ted Bundy got women to his car before they even knew what happened on a regular basis. So that’s why I’m here, I guess. Make it make sense.” Concern fell on her features, Loki watching as she reached up and took a picture of Frank Cohen. He was about forty, blonde hair styled well on his head. Went to temple regularly with his wife and kid. He was a banker at a local credit union and had no real ‘enemies’ to speak of. A neighbor who hated that he didn’t keep up his lawn. Wife’s friend who’d tried to flirt with him. He was average.

Placing the picture back up, she reached across Detective Loki who silently stepped back, watching as she took the second picture. Liana Lopez. Dark hair hanging by her shoulders, early thirties, Hispanic, Catholic, didn’t attend services save for bigger occasions. Left behind a husband who was cooperative, a man who had relied on his wife for work as he’d recently been injured working construction. 

That one went back up and she looked at the third without taking it down. Another caucasian man, this one only twenty-five, recently married to his husband. That one had first been the first and thought to be a hate crime, potentially, but with the rose and the note, and then the others, that had been ruled out. None of it made sense.

There was no discernable pattern, and it really pissed off both of them.

“This guy isn’t Ted Bundy. He’s worse than a psychopath,” Loki almost snarled out the words. In truth, he was aware that the individuals taken likely weren’t alive. What had frustrated all the precincts was where, then, they had gone. Why go through the effort of abducting people quietly, but leave a message behind to tell the world what happened? 

Kind regards.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Y/N squinted before looking at the scenes, “The words are very… well, they’re formal, but they aren’t sweet. They’re taunting, but you knew that already.” She stood, walking to the corkboard again and squinting as she eyed the abduction sites. 

Well, presumed abduction sites. Why leave these anywhere else? No other places in the surrounding areas had signs of a struggle, the dogs and forensics had dug through cameras and they all seemed like these were the spots.

She turned to David, “Why does someone give a person a rose?” She raised an eyebrow.

Loki looked almost bored, though it was annoyance. He’d already asked himself this twelve times, “Sign of affection. So why a black one?”

She shook her head, “Yeah, but that’s the thing. The letter was left for you. The letters for the other detectives as well. But you…” she appeared to get distracted by her own thoughts, not unusual for the quirky woman, squinting again as she walked to the round, grey table and took the top file.

David was almost intrigued now, beginning to find himself drawn in, as he watched her, knowing there was some kind of process. He was still impatient, however, and still quite salty about the FBI coming in, “What about me?”

Pulling a few pieces of paper out, she grabbed a color copy of something out and walked over to David, “The last abduction was in Conyers, which you know. All the other detectives have been pulled off the cases for being too involved. But not you,” she glanced over at him, watching his face change as he glanced at her, then back at what was a copy of the last note, “No, you’ve stayed on. And this last note- here!” She pinned it to the board, pointing at the lettering, “The lines are darker. Thicker. The pen changed. Not the font or the style, but this note has more care put into it. Up until now, the notes all looked fairly carbon-copied, you know? But this one is-”

Quiet.

Staring at the lettering silence fell once she stopped herself from finishing. 

Years ago she had felt that same pang in her gut she was feeling now. That overwhelming sensation of dread and panic. She felt it when she had watched the clip of a video someone had posted near a crowd where a murder had taken place. She had felt that gut wrenching sensation as his face appeared. It was hard to spot a murderer because at the core, she knew, everyone had that potential. But some had that piece.

Detective Loki was not endeared by any of this, though. He didn’t buy the idea that suddenly he might have mattered to this killer more than anyone else. Thicker font. Who cared? People lose pens. And he was going to say that before Anders entered once more, a look on his face. The look of a rookie who had never had to say those words before. Never had to tell a detective what he’d just heard. The look of a man who’d vomited before walking in.

That look.

He was falling over his words. Tripping and stumbling over them. He was grasping for them.

But it was Y/N who frowned and spoke quietly, “Just tell us where they found them.”

[chaoticchickadee]

Good Things Happen, Week 1

Hello there! Since I’ve been writing (mostly) consistently recently I thought it would be fun to do a little challenge. Every Friday, I’ll be posting a one-shot prompt fill from this bingo card. I’m going to try to do this until I fill the card, provided it gets good reception/I continue to enjoy doing it. You’re welcome to send in specific prompts, I will write for any Star Wars fandom you see on my blog and most characters. I’m more comfortable with gen at the moment, but I can try ships as well!

Starting out for week one is “good hair day” with Padmé and the handmaidens, circa Queen’s Peril novel.

Show your support-- reblog!

Read it here on AO3

Padmé hadn’t expected how exhausting wearing the Queen’s headdresses all day could be. Sure, she’d known during her candidacy that they were heavy and hard to balance, but knowing and experiencing were two different things. Rabé did her best to make them as comfortable as possible, but even with the braids and the styling gel her hair was a mess by evening. It was unimportant, really, but Padmé missed the feeling of her long, tightly-curled locks flowing freely all day, not just in the evenings before bed. Still, Padmé would gladly suffer frizzy and unkempt hair for the rest of her life if it meant she could make a difference as Naboo’s Queen.

Sabé had noticed Padmé staring at her, and it hadn’t taken long to figure out why. It wasn’t her that Padmé was staring at, but her hair. Padmé had lamented what the royal headdresses had done to her beautiful hair many times, and while it was said in a light-hearted, joking manner, there was a little bit of truth to it. Padmé had gotten very good at hiding her tells and insecurities, but Sabé would always be able to read her. She shared her observations with the other handmaidens, and they decided they would try to ease Padmé’s discomfort, at least as much as they could. Eager to find a solution, they put their heads together and did what they do best-- scheme.

It was a long day in the court, and all Padmé wanted to do was flop onto her bed and not move for at least three days. Her handmaidens were suspiciously quiet on the walk from the throne room to the royal apartments, but Padmé was secretly grateful for it. She didn’t think she had enough energy to walk in the elaborate wardrobe of the Queen and hold a conversation at the same time. Soon, they arrived at the apartments, and Eirtaé quietly opened the door. Once inside, the handmaidens quickly stripped her of the gown. As soon as it was off, Padmé sat on the stool in the center of the common room, and they began working on her paint while Rabé took her place behind her to work on her hair. Padmé sighed when she felt the headdress being lifted off of her, relaxing further when Rabé’s gentle fingers began undoing her braids. Instead of putting her hair into a loose braid for the night, Rabé accepted a bowl from Saché and began working some sort of goop into her hair. Padmé sent a questioning glance towards Saché but didn’t press any further when she didn’t get an answer. She closed her eyes as Rabé massaged her scalp, relishing in the simple pleasure of being cared for by her friends.

When she was done, Rabé twisted Padmé’s hair up and secured it with a clip. After quietly instructing Padmé to rinse it out after ten minutes, the girls settled down to read and unwind, as was their nightly routine. They talked about a variety of subjects, from the latest palace gossip to speculating how many heart attacks they’d given Captain Panaka that day. It was Padmé’s favorite part of her day, relaxing with her friends and chatting about nothing and everything, enjoying being in each other's company. Padmé dutifully excused herself after ten minutes to rinse her hair and clean up. She lingered a little longer than strictly necessary, tension bleeding from her body under the warm spray.

Shutting off the water, Padmé stepped out of the shower and dried herself off. She ran a brush through her hair once more, surprised by the lack of any difficult tangles. Her hair felt uncharacteristically smooth and soft when she went to braid it. Whatever Rabé had put into her hair, it had worked wonders. Padmé spent a minute staring at herself in the mirror, petting her hair in awe. She shook her head and started to braid, but she was still unable to wipe the goofy grin off of her face.

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As much as she loved her work as Queen, Padmé was grateful for the quiet day. For once, there were no meetings she needed to attend or appearances  Amidala needed to make, so she didn’t bother to put on the Queen’s regalia. Officially, Queen Amidala would be spending the day in her quarters reviewing documents while her handmaidens were out running errands in the city. If, perhaps, there was so much that needed to be done that it required all of the girls, including the young page Padmé, well, who were they to shirk their duties? Surprisingly, it hadn’t taken much to convince Captain Panaka to allow the excursion. He seemed a little more at ease with their adventures now that they kept him in the loop for some of their schemes.

They’d opted against hoods for the day, as they were less likely to be recognized when they weren’t near the Queen. The central market of Theed was already bustling by the time the girls arrived at about noon. They’d meant to get there earlier, but decided to indulge themselves in their morning routine, taking time to do their hair in fun, elaborate hairstyles and go a little crazy with their makeup. Their morning was full of giggles and goofing off. It was a rare opportunity for them to be just teenage girls, not a head of state and her terrifyingly competent handmaidens. For the first time since her election, Padmé was out in public without the royal wardrobe. She hadn’t realized she missed the common, everyday activities of normal life until now. Being able to effortlessly move through the crowd without so much as a second glance was now foreign, but Padmé was grateful for it.

The girls wandered from stall to stall, eyeing the merchandise and occasionally making a purchase. Yané snagged a beautiful pair of night pearl earrings from an up and coming artisan, using most of her allowance for the day. They all teased her about using her money on one thing, but they really were a beautiful pair of earrings, well worth the price. None of the items for sale had really interested Padmé, so she used her share to buy them all a modest but tasty lunch after a few hours of meandering around the market.

Almost every time the girls approached a stall, patrons and vendors complimented Padmé’s hair, peppering her with questions about her hair care routine or tricks for styling it. Padmé deferred most of the questions to Rabé, reeling at the attention she drew. She’d gotten used to being in the public’s eye when she began her candidacy, but that had been as Amidala. It was new to draw the attention of passersby as just Padmé, but she enjoyed it much more. It felt more authentic, which in turn made her feel even more connected to the public and her people, even if they weren’t aware they were speaking to the Queen.

Once the entire market had been combed through, the girls headed back to the palace. The sun had started to set, and the girls could feel the excitement of the day catching up to them. When they’d gotten far enough away from the market that the streets were practically deserted, Padmé finally asked the question that had been on her mind all day. “So, how long were you planning my unusually good hair day?” The handmaidens stopped and looked at each other, silently discussing the best way to answer. When an explanation and a speaker was chosen, they turned back to Padmé with easy grins on their faces. “Not long. A few weeks ago I noticed you staring wistfully at me.” A couple of giggles interrupted, but quickly settled. “Once I realized you were staring at my hair, I told the others and we concocted a plan. Once we had the supplies, we just had to wait for a time we could get you out without being Amidala,” Sabé finished. Her rundown was clinical and professional, but Padmé could hear the affection in her voice. Saché piped up next, “You have a lot on your plate, we just wanted to do something nice for you.” Padmé’s heart melted at their words and the care in their eyes. She drew them into a hug, not caring how sappy and public it was. “I didn’t expect to get close to you all, but I’m so glad I did. You’re the best friends I could ever ask for, thank you.” She said. Though her words were a bit muffled, they all heard her loud and clear. “We’re glad to have you too,” Eirtaé responded. “Even if it means I won’t be the youngest accomplished engineer of Naboo.” She added. They laughed at her quip as they broke away from the hug. “It’s getting late, we should get back to the palace soon or Panaka will send out a search patrol,” Yané sighed. They all hummed their agreement and turned to start walking again. Padmé cautiously linked her arm with Rabé, and the rest of the group enthusiastically followed suit. With their arms linked and smiles on their faces, they continued their trek back to the palace.

[pastthebutterflies]

It’s For You (Little Lady)

As it turns out, running away to a magical alternate dimension to avoid her problems ended just as badly as Luz thought it would.

Part two of what’s now my “Camila Comes Through the Door” series! I’m posting this late, so feel free to point out any glaring mistakes. Otherwise enjoy!

Ao3 link in the reblogs!

So, fun fact!

As it turns out, running away to a magical alternate dimension to avoid her problems ended just as badly as Luz thought it would.

In her defense, Luz really hadn’t expected her mom to actually find a way into said dimension (thanks, Owlbert). The plan had always been to stick around until the end of the summer, then head back home acting as if yes mom, camp was very educational and yes mom, she really did feel much more like everyone else now. Then, in theory, continue jumping back and forth with the door to continue her training and see her friends. Without Camila ever finding out about said secret double life.

Needless to say, those plans all went out the window the moment Camila stepped through the portal, right into Eda’s booth, where she had spotted Luz immediately and tried to all but drag her back home.

Fortunately- or unfortunately, depending on who she asked- King had been so surprised by the sudden arrival that he had shot straight from Luz’s arms and into the air, shocking them all enough for Eda to suggest they head back to the Owl House before they drew too much attention to themselves.

Which was what led to Luz hiding in the kitchen with Eda as King and Hooty chattered endlessly to Camila about who knew what and most definitely did not help the situation.

Eda leaned against the counter, staring boredly as her eyes tracked Luz’s movements back and forth across the floor with one hand in her hair while the other gestured wildly in the air.

“-And how did she even get here? Owlbert is so good at staying out of sight, how did he get caught?” She groaned. “And why did he have to find Mom of all people?”

“Kid, he’s an owl. Even your world has those, of course he was out in the open. She said he took her keys, which are shiny, not to mention strange and unusual compared to the ones we use on the Isles, they would have sold like wildfire. Obviously he was going to take them.”

“But why my mom? Of all the people-” she glanced through the door, where Camila is staring slack jawed at King, who was pointing intensely at a drawing in one of his demon books, animatedly speaking over Hooty, who seemed to have made a home around her shoulders. Surprisingly, Camila seemed less concerned with this part, or maybe she was trying to ignore it, the same way she did sometimes when Luz would say something a little too out there. At this point, she really couldn’t tell.

Maybe that was a good thing.

“So you smudged the truth a little bit, we’ve all done it. Heck, I do it all the time,” Eda snorted. “Look, you’ve got two options. Either you can run off again, maybe to one of your friends’ houses for the night and let King and I keep her busy.” She pictured slipping away to Willow’s for the night and letting Eda deal with this in the meantime. A wave of guilt washed over her almost immediately at the thought. Stupid conscience.

“Or,” Eda continued. “You can go out there and talk to her. Lady just found out her daughter lied to her for a month and spent the last twenty four hours thinking you were- poof! Gone. The least you can do is let her know you’re alright.” She pushed off the counter and shrugged, turning toward the door. “But hey, do what you need to. You know I’ll help out either way.”

With that, Eda headed into the living room to slump next to Camila and finally pull King away. She watched Camila’s shoulders relax just a bit at something Eda said. The look makes the lump that had been forming in Luz’s throat for the past hour begin to harden. She had always wanted to tell her mom, eventually. Preferably after she came home, safe and sound, and could prove that no, actually, it wasn’t dangerous at all Mom and that she arguably learned ten times as much on the Boiling Isles than she would have at camp.

Now-

Life was never supposed to go this way.

With a heavy sigh, Luz took a final glance toward the open door- if she ran, she could get to Willow’s by dark- and took the first step into the living room.

“You discover a magic door in the one place that I’ve spent years telling you not to go to, chasing after an owl that stole the book you just threw away, and decided that staying with the strange witch you just met- no offense, ma’am- all because you thought it sounded slightly better than camp? Not to mention giving me a heart attack in the process.”

She was taking this...far better than Luz thought she would. Her mom had never been one prone to yelling. Still, Luz had expected at least a small outburst this time. Yet, Camila had sat patiently through her explanation, waiting until the end to say much of anything. Eda had interjected a few times- the two of them got along surprisingly well, she was noticing- but for the most part, Luz had filled the silence for the past hour, catching Camila up on everything she had missed, or in some cases, adding new context to some of the messages she had sent over the course of the summer.

“Didn’t you kind of do the same thing just now? Same owl, same door…”

Over Camila’s shoulder, King cut a frantic hand over his throat, abort, abort, he tried to say, too little too late. If Luz wanted to back out, she should have done that weeks ago. Now that she was in, she may as well go all the way.

Camila blanched at that, “To find you. You’re the only kid I know that would leap through magic portals at the first opportunity. I should have figured sooner. Those messages were so vague, and the letters-”

Letters?

She could come back to that one later. For now-

“I’d do it again,” she said quietly.

Across from her, Camila stops in her tracks, brows burrowing deep into her eye line. “What?”

Even Eda glanced up at that, unsurprised, while an odd expression played on her face. Both of them remained quiet, waiting for her to continue. King however, took the chance to run across the floor and clamber into her lap. One hand lifted to scratch between his ears as she continued.

“I’d do it again,” she repeated. “Mom, I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you wanted, but- I can’t be the person you want me to be. Not then, not now. I’m happy here, happier than I ever was at school or camp. I can’t go back to feeling like that all the time, like I don’t belong or knowing that no one understands. I won’t. The people here,” she thinks of Willow and Gus and Amity. King and Eda. “They understand. They all know what it’s like not to fit in. I can’t want to lose that.”

King burrows deeper into her lap, sending a wave of comfort through her skin. He’ll want to talk about it later tonight, before bed, the way they usually do when things go wrong during the day. Assuming she was still here tonight, that is.

Her mom was frowning, then suddenly, she was crossing the space between them and wrapping her arms around Luz, tight as can be and whispering under her breath, “Te quiero,” to Luz or herself, she isn’t sure.

After a moment, she draws back, hands still on Luz’s shoulders, the telltale flood of tears in her eyes. “When I realized you never made it to camp, the only thing I could think of was that I wished I had never let you leave. You were so far away and I couldn’t find you. I would have searched everywhere for you- even another dimension.” She hugs her again, hard. “I can’t lose you, not again.”

Luz’s heart stuttered in her chest, the same way it did every time they had spoken in the past weeks. Only this time, she didn’t hold back. Her arms wrapped tight around her mom’s middle to squeeze as hard as she could muster. Between them, King squeaks indignantly and bolts back toward Eda. Her nose was buried deep into the scrubs Camila must never have changed out of before stumbling upon the door. She smelled like chemicals and antiseptic and home. Her other home, now.

When they finally pulled back, tears are tracking down Camila’s cheeks, mirroring the ones Luz can feel on her own face.

“You’re happy here, aren’t you?” Camila glanced around. She takes in King and Eda, Hooty still twisting nervously in the corner. The odds and ends stacked along the walls. Luz.

She nodded once to herself, seemed to reach a decision. She stood. “Okay.”

“...Okay?”

Camila glanced to Luz, to Eda, then back to Luz. “You can stay,” she said, finally. “For the summer. But it’s back to school in the fall. If Miss Eda is okay with it, that is.”

Eda shrugs, “Meh, kid’s kind of grown on me.”

“And,” Camila added. “I’m staying, too.”

Luz’s feet send her shooting up before she entirely realized what was happening. “You’re what?”

“When I can, of course. I’ll still have work during the day and a house to look after. But I’ll be around, as often as I can.” Camila glanced around again. This time, Luz couldn’t tell if she was judging the place or mentally mapping out where she could fit herself into both the house and the dynamic. When she spoke again, her voice was softer than Luz expected to hear it today. “If this is important to you, I want it to be important to me, too.”

The words alone are enough to send Luz flying if she let them. She hadn’t expected it to go this well, much less be able to stay. And having her around? Able to finally see the things Luz loved, in a setting where her interests were encouraged- the norm, even. The lump from before had finally begun to dissolve, trickling down her throat and rising up again in the form of a happy shout.

She leaned forward to wrap her arms around Camila again, this time dragging Eda forward as well as she muttered confusedly under her breath. At their feet, she felt King’s claws tap against her ankles as he followed suit.

“Thank-you-thank-you-thank-you.”

When they pulled away, Camila turned to her, eyes serious. “From now on, I need you to be honest with me. No matter what, do you understand? No more running off without telling me, no more secret magic shows; honesty from here on out. And I’ll do my best to understand all... this.”

A laugh bubbled up from deep in her stomach, “deal.”

In the end, Camila wound up spending the night and calling in to work the next morning. Luz spent most of the evening and a good portion of the night delving into what she had seen so far on the Isles, including Willow and Gus, the Blights, Hexside. She activated the few spells she knew, as well, sending bursts of light into the air while Eda sits back, demonstrating the way they were typically cast.

It was odd, seeing her mom so relaxed. She had changed from her scrubs to one of Eda’s old shirts that read fabulous and flawless in sprawling pink font across the front and a pair of her old sweats. In the future, they were hoping to have a more long term setup for the times she stayed over. Which made Luz question why she had gotten the upstairs closet the whole time- but she would deal with that later.

Right now, she was willing to keep drawing up her spells and finally getting to show off to someone as amazed as her at the process. There was still more to talk about, like going to Hexside and Eda’s curse. Both of which were likely to cause ripples in the future, but for now, Luz was content to share the world she had fallen in love with, with the only person from home that mattered.

For now, Luz dragged her pencil across the page and let the light rise up between them.

[tibbinswrites]

Suptober Day 25 - Tattoos

“I want a tattoo,” Cas said one morning, completely out of the blue and while Dean was still dangerously in his first sips of his first coffee.

“You’ve got tattoos.” Dean bit back grumpily, though Cas knew better than to take his ire seriously before ten am.

“Yes. I want another one.”

“Okay...” Dean drew out the word like he was waiting for Cas’ point.

“Can I?”

Dean snorted and placed his mug down on the table, “I’m not your mother, Cas. You’re a grown ass practically immortal being. If you want a tattoo you don’t need my permission.”

“I know, but… would you help me? I don’t want to end up disappointed and I don’t know how to tell if a parlour is a good one or not.”

Dean squinted at him through the steam from his coffee, considering.

“Sure,” he said. Go grab my laptop, we can have a look around.”

Xxx

Dean was almost done with his mug and a lot more cheerful when Cas returned a few minutes later, he took the laptop and flipped it open, searching for nearby tattoo parlours and going onto their various websites.

“I don’t suppose sanitation really matters to you,” Dean said, flipping through some pictures of a studio before dismissing it. “Seeing as you can’t get infected and all, but it says a lot about how much a place cares about the art it makes. If you can stumble in there at three am and demand Bob Ross’ face on your ass then you’re not in the right place.”

“Why would anyone-?”

“People.” Dean answered with a shrug. “Those are the kind of places we went to get these,” he gestured at his chest, “but these are practical, they just had to be copied from a drawing we supplied, if you want an actual design, you need to find an actual artist, not just someone with a tattoo gun who can draw hearts and fancy swirls and a passable wolf.”

Cas wrinkled his nose at the thought. He did want a proper design, something beautiful, something meaningful, something his. But the task seemed monumental for him let alone a stranger.

“Here are the ones that look decent.” Dean said a few minutes later, showing Cas a set of six tabs. “What do you want to get anyway?”

“I don’t know.” Cas said, feeling touched that Dean was walking him through this but overwhelmed as he clicked on the first tab and a slew on images popped up. “How am I supposed to choose?”

Surprisingly, instead of mocking him, Dean smiled and shuffled his chair closer so he could see the screen too.

“Look through the artist portfolios,” he directed, pointing to the option at the top of the screen. “Most will have links to their own websites with more of their work. You’re not looking for the perfect design, just the perfect style. Some are better at portraits, others at more geometric stuff, some do different things with colour. You can narrow it down by crossing out the ones you don’t like.”

Cas nodded solemnly and turned his attention back to the screen. The first artist had lots of strong black lines and straight edges. The second a lot of portraits, neither of which really appealed to him.

He seemed to search for hours. Dean was refilling his coffee when Cas found what he was looking for.

“This one.” Cas said, looking up to see Dean jump at his voice. “I want her.” He tried to keep his tone neutral but from the slight crinkle at the edge of Dean’s eyes he hadn’t been able to hide the excitement in his voice.

“Alright, let’s take a look.” Dean said, leaving his mug at the machine and coming over to look at the screen over Cas’ shoulder. “Nice,” he agreed.

Castiel felt a warm buzzing in his stomach, he was glad that Dean liked it too. The image on the screen was a rose, not what Cas was looking for really, delicately done, with a fine outline, but it was the colours that were magical; midnight blue and deep, rich purples blended in the petals, with a shimmer that looked almost metallic, smudging across the lines slightly, not enough to ruin the image but just enough to be imperfect, to feel right.

Castiel booked a consultation for the following week.

Xxx

Cas sat in the waiting room of the tattoo parlour, tapping his foot nervously while Dean sat next to him. Dean had insisted on coming with him and Castiel hadn’t thought to object, the last time he’d gotten a tattoo he’d been alone, and although the pain was minimal compared to some of the torments he’d endured as an angel, experiencing it as human pain was different and he had wished for company, even if Dean only would have mocked him and compared him to an infant.

“What if it turns out bad?” He asked quietly, “I still have no idea what I want, what if I can’t think of anything? What if she doesn’t have the right colours, or-”

“Cas,” Dean interrupted patiently, “it’s just a consultation, no needle is getting near your skin without your say so. If she draws you something and you don’t like it, she’ll change it for you. If she doesn’t have the colours she’ll order them in and we can go back when she’s got ’em. If you don’t have any ideas we can talk it out. It’s gonna be fine”

Cas was grateful for the reassurance, but he was still nervous nonetheless. He just didn’t want to be disappointed. This felt important and he didn’t want to mess it up by choosing the wrong thing. The artist, Giva Chaudhary, was exceptionally talented, but none of the images in her portfolio had really spoken to him. He was worried that they would get there and she would be unable to produce the thing he wanted on his skin forever and he would either have to go home with nothing, or settle for something that was less than perfect.

“Mr Novak?”

Miss Chaudhary was a small woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, her black hair was bound in a long plait and she had a smile that seemed almost too large for her face.

“Yes.” Castiel said, standing to shake her hand. “Miss Chaudhary, you work is beautiful.”

“Well thank you, but don’t bother with the ‘miss’, Giva is fine.”

“Cas,” Cas offered, and then, because Dean was leaning to shake her hand too. “This is Dean, a friend.”

“Moral support?” Giva asked, her dark eyes twinkling, “Understandable, a first tattoo can be a scary business.”

“It’s not his first,” Dean said immediately, “but this one’s important, he wants it to be right.”

Giva nodded and gestured them to sit, she did as well, laying a sketchbook and some pencils on the table in between them.

“So, Cas, do you know what you’d like?”

Cas felt himself flushing and stammered out an apology which Giva waved away, “Not a problem, that’s what these talks are for, yes? If we don’t figure it out today you can always come back another time. So what drew you to my work in particular?”

So Cas told her, he answered her questions and looked through her books. She made some further sketches as he talked, of nothing in particular, nothing important, and so her sketches, while lovely, were nothing like what he was looking for. Dean was quiet throughout, Cas kept glancing at him to gauge his reaction to each piece but he remained stubbornly neutral. This only added to his confusion, how was he supposed to decide if he didn’t know if Dean would like it or not?

“I wonder if I might ask your friend to go and get us some sandwiches from across the street.” Giva said after thirty minutes of light conversation and not much progress.

Dean was reluctant, but agreed when Cas nodded to him and left with a significant ‘call me if you need me’ look.

The second the door closed, Giva let out a long sigh. “Perhaps you can speak more easily now,” she said. “I notice you very much want his approval.”

“I trust his judgement,” Cas said, carefully.

“I don’t doubt his judgement, only that in this case, his opinion matters less than yours. He will approve the most if you’re happy.” Giva said with a kind smile, as though she saw this kind of thing all the time.

“You care for him deeply,” she said

“I-” there was no sense in denying it. “Yes. Dean and I… we’ve been through a lot.”

“Tell me,” Giva said, sitting back in her chair, sketchbook at the ready.

Cas cleared his throat.

“Err… Well… I suppose you could say I come from a very strict background,” he began, picking his words carefully. “When I first met Dean, more than a decade ago now, I pulled him from a dark place; it was a duty for me at the time, to keep an eye on him, look out for him and his brother, to try and keep them on the righteous path. Dean… Dean disliked being led.” He felt a small smile tugging at his lips. “I found myself admiring that, helping him more that I was supposed to and as I grew closer to Dean, I began to see my family for what they truly were. They tried to get me back, keep be under their control but I fought for my freedom because Dean showed me how.”

“Freedom is an important thing.” Giva said encouragingly as she sketched, “Worth fighting for. But it can be difficult if family disagrees with your choices.”

“I made many mistakes that I can never redeem.” Cas said, “A lot of bad decisions that got people hurt. Dean forgave me even when he had every right not to, while my family betrayed me, cast me out, hunted me.”

“A fall from grace, sounds like.” Giva muttered, Cas looked up sharply but the petite woman wasn’t even looking at him, she was focused on her sketch.

“That would be… incredibly accurate.”

“So why the tattoo now?” Giva asked, her pencil stilling for a moment, “This is your first important one, but you waited ten years?”

Cas tilted his head, formulating his answer before speaking, looking down at his own hands, “For years after I met Dean, my body didn’t feel like my own. Like it was someone else’s and I was just stealing his life. It has taken me a long time to… settle into my own skin, as it were. These clothes are his but they fit me now and so have become mine. My other tattoos are copies, but this will be the first thing about my body that isn’t inherited.”

Giva nodded again and asked nothing more, continuing to sketch in silence, she tore three separate pages from her notebook when she was done and laid them out one by one.

Cas didn’t even look at the third sketch, the second one was perfect.

Xxx

“So I drive all this way and I have to drive all the way back again in four days but you’re not gonna tell me what you’re getting?”

“I don’t want you to see it before it’s done.” Cas said, holding Giva’s sketch tightly to his chest. Before Dean had come back in with sandwiches, they had discussed minor tweaks and colours and Giva had given him the sketch to look over in case he wanted to change anything else before his appointment, she assured him that even the day of, if there was anything that he wasn’t certain of it could be changed to his liking as long as he told her before she got her needles out. In fact, all Dean knew about the piece was that it was going to be large and on his back, and that they would probably need more than one appointment to get it all done.

“If it’s Bob Ross’ face, I’m disowning you.” Dean griped.

“You don’t own me,” Cas pointed out. “So disowning me would be pointless.” And then, “and it’s nobody’s face.”

Xxx

It was worth the wait. That was all Dean could think a few weeks later when Cas dropped his shirt so that Dean could see the healed and completed piece. No wonder Giva had looked so pleased with herself after Cas’ last session, no wonder Cas had been beaming through red eyes.

Wings.

If Cas had asked his opinion he’d have said perhaps a little on the nose but he would have been eating those words.

They covered almost the entirety of Cas’ back with anatomically correct (he was assuming) detail but they were by no means static, the top half was full and thick with shimmering feathers, so dark they were almost black, but whatever ink Giva used caught the light, sending beautiful tones of blue, green, purple and magenta skittering across them. They swept down the curve of Cas’ spine where the feathers began to thin, hints of red and orange entered the mix, not enough to take away from the beauty of the above, just a subtle transition where some of the feathers were burning and curling into ash, then further down still those burnt and falling feathers twisted in the air, transforming into butterflies the same colour as the healthy feathers that weaved around the now bare bones of the wings.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Cas, they’re incredible.”

“I can’t manifest my wings,” Cas said quietly, “but I want you to see them as I see them. They are perhaps the thing I miss most about my old life; the symbol of what I was, powerful and grand and sure. But I’m not bound by their rules anymore. And what I am has changed into something more compressed, more human but infinitely more free. That transformation is largely because of you, Dean, and I can’t thank you enough.”

Dean barely realised he had reached forward to touch one of the burning feathers until Cas shivered under his touch, his fingers followed the wings in their progression, along their changes, they followed Cas’ story and he was the one who should be thanking Cas for letting him be a part of it. Without thinking, he dropped his lips to Cas’ shoulder and pressed them there. Cas turned to meet him and their mouths fitted together like they were made to, like they had done this before a thousand times, like, perhaps, they should have.

@winchester-reload

If you liked this, please consider buying me a coffee.

[official-feraltale-au]

Things to know about Bodach

I’ve been thinking about the newest feral boy a lot, so let’s just throw some of the canons I’ve come up with out there. Enjoy my scary and dangerous but surprisingly gentle boy! (Mostly surface though, because I am not a big fan of angst.)

1. XXXL boy

Heh, it’s only by putting these drawings side by side that I realised I drew them on scale (look at the jacket and shorts). But wait, that would mean...compared to an average 5 feet 7 human...Bodach would be...

HOLY SH-!!!

2. Bodach, where’s Eliza?

Gone.

Sans got attached to her in a similar way he did with Frisk, only he was actually trying to eat Eliza in a blinding hunger. He does care for them, but he isn’t exactly in the right mind to care for a little human. Trying to lick wounds clean but doing it too much and licking it raw, bouts of psychosis and self-harm, trying to force her to eat raw meat, a brother who glared at her as if he’d rather eat her, ect. You can’t blame her for running away one night on the surface. But you’ll be glad to know she now has a loving family that adopted her, and in her adult life they got back in contact on better terms.

3. ‘Sans get’s some F*CKING THERAPY’ the AU.

One of the conditions the humans made for monsters to live on the surface, was the security of the humans nearby. This meant that monsters who were too dangerous would be put down (which most of them actually agreed with for the sake of them all), and the rest had to be psychologically evaluated and ‘corrected’ if necessary. This meant a bunch of human and animal psychologists were put to work. Most monsters could refuse this, but they would have to wear a shocker/tracker to make sure they wouldn’t leave the territory of the mountain. Some special cases were forced to take therapy though.

After Sans moved to live on his own, Papyrus feared greatly for his safety. So he hinted that Sans might be a bit unhinged. All crimes the monsters committed underground were pardoned, but recorded and taken into account for future incidents. (For instance, the incident where Sans attacked a car while in a frenzy looking for Eliza.) And that’s how Sans ended up with Katherine Ilves, who was originally trained to treat the criminally insane. It didn’t take long for her to realize he wasn’t criminal, but depressed suicidal. And once she focused on that, things started to slowly improve.

Kat is still one of Sans’ closest friends.

4. Will you PLEASE stop scaring people?

Sans loves to scare people, but not for the reason you might think. Sneaking up on them, sneakily to obviously cornering them, rumbling, you name it, if he likes you he’ll try and get you with one of those. Only to people he likes though, why’s that?

Sans likes to scare people, not terrify them. It gives them a bit of a rush. To see them jump or shiver slightly, only to feel relief when they realize it’s just him. And that’s what it’s all about. After having hurt others for so long, after being stared at with apprehension, after first impressions where people reacted as if he was gonna bite their heads off, Sans just relishes in any trust people have in him. And he likes to feel that trust rush into the places where just a moment ago was fear.

Plus, he also found that it strengthens any bonds he formed if done right. Like how hair-fractures heal to be stronger than before if they are given enough time to recover.

He knows people have limits though, and adjusts what he does to what said individual can handle/will tolerate from him.

5. Gotta love the library

Once a monster is determined to be safe to live near humans, they can come a little closer to humans without supervision. In some cases this meant that monsters who wanted a different habitat could be relocated, and the more intelligent ones could mingle with humans. Once Sans got the ‘all clear’ from Katherine he got his identification badge to go out. And moving among friendly humans actually helped his recovery.

Sans can’t exactly read on his own anymore because of his injury, but he came to love pictures and stories. So when he found a library that allowed him inside, he made a beeline to the kids’ section (and later the audio-books). The kids...actually took it rather well. Ya know how little kids are kinda stuck between scared or curious about everything? The mix of Sans weird/scary looks and calm/friendly demeanour quickly drew in a bunch of them. Of course the parents needed a bit longer to convince, but after a few weeks of seeing kids use him as a pillow as they read they were allowed to ‘go sit with mister Skeleton’.

6. And uh...who’s this kid?

Thomas. He got nearly stabbed to death by his mom and left in the forrest with the hope that monsters would take care of any evidence. So Sans officially adopted him. And this time it was a conscious choice on his part that was supported and recognized by the government. And Thomas loved his new giant dad a lot.

[dashesofink]

The Speaker | Chapter 3 |

 A Hobbit Fic

Summary: Accompanying a group of 15 across the lands of Middle Earth was never something you dreamed of doing, especially after waking up in a strange forest. Yet after being found by a group of dwarves, you find yourself following after a Dwarven King and his company to reclaim a mountain. You had expected the hardships and battles that you all faced on the journey; however, the last thing you expected was finding someone along the way who would steal your heart away for himself, all while giving you the key to his own.

Pairing: TBA

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: none so far

A/N: So i think I’ve come to the conclusion that either Fili or Thorin will be the pairing for this story!! I put a little thing between each of them in this chapter, so let me know what you think please!! Hope you guys enjoy!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

The Speaker Taglist: @legolaslovely @c4ts4ndstuff @nerdbirdsworld

Main Taglist: @t00-many-th0ughts @fizzyxcustard​

Read also on: AO3 Wattpad

You wanted nothing more than to bundle up in a pile of blankets and fall asleep again. The rain that pelted your back and the top of your head soaked easily into your clothes, the cloak you had fastened around your shoulders doing little to protect you from the cold. Your arms were tightly wrapped around your riding buddy, Bofur, as you pressed your forehead to his back. His body was also soaking wet, as was pretty much everyone else in the company. A few grumbles of annoyance sounded out every once in a while, and if your throat wasn’t aching as bad as it was you probably would’ve done the same. It had been nearly a month since you appeared in Middle Earth, and it was easy to say that you had found a small place within the company of dwarves, along with the Hobbit and wizard. Surprisingly enough Thorin wasn’t as harsh to you as he had been the first couple of weeks, but he still seemed a bit hesitant and almost… meek around you. True to Fili’s words a couple of weeks ago, Kili had gotten over himself and finally talked to you again, much to your relief. However it wasn’t quite the next day that Fili had mentioned, it was more like the next week.

You wanted to chuckle at the awkward conversation that was held between the two of you— well, more like the awkward explanation that Kili had for his cold-shoulder towards you.

“I just— I don’t want uncle to see me as… as foolish.” Kili seemed to want to look everywhere except for you. His brown eyes, while filled with regret and guilt for ignoring you and acting cold, were looking around at the rocks and the trees as he avoided your gaze. The quill in your hand had stilled upon an empty page of the book that Bilbo had given you, and it wasn’t long after you sat down away from the group that Kili approached you for the first time in a week. The grip you had on the quill tightened as you watched him, the skin under his stubble glowing red, as did the tips of his ears while his fingers fumbled with his sleeves. He looked like a hurt puppy. “That’s not an excuse though, I know. And I apologize if I’ve upset you. I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to forgive me just yet, but I just wanted to see if there was any way that I could—“

The sound of your laugh froze Kili in his spot, and when he finally looked over to you since he started his rambling he saw a smile pull up your lips. Confusion ran hot through his body and his eyebrows knitted together as you continued to laugh. You should’ve been angry with him. He had been bracing himself for this conversation, the words running through his mind dozens of times before hand, and he had been telling himself that you would be crying and screaming— if you could scream that is— but you weren’t. “W-what? Aren’t you… aren’t you angry with me?”

Kili couldn’t seem to believe that you didn't seem upset or angry at him, which he wasn’t wrong to believe. You still felt hurt when he had avoided you. The pain in your heart was there, yes, but after many explanations from Fili you understood that Kili thought he was doing right by his uncle. He wanted to impress Thorin. So you left him alone to figure stuff out for himself. You had forgiven the young prince about the fourth day of him not talking to you, so all you had been waiting for, until this moment, was for him to come back and want to be your friend again. Your fingers grabbed a hold of one of his hands gently as you held your place in your book with a pressed leaf, and you felt the muscles in his palm tense when you pressed your fingers against his skin. Kili held in a breath as your cold fingers drew against his burning skin. Once you had finished writing Kili felt as if he was going to cry, and the smile that graced your lips was reassuring as you nodded.

I FORGAVE YOU. LONG AGO.

A small cheer fell past Kili’s smiling lips and in an instant he had pulled you to your feet and to his chest. His face was pressed deep into your shoulder and his hands held your waist as he shook your body happily, and another laugh rumbling in your chest at his excitement. You gave his back a soothing pat before he pulled away, and you were shocked to feel his hands gently grasp your cheeks. “I’ll never act that way again, Y/N, do you understand?” Kili’s nose was inches from yours as he brought your face down to his, your eyes blowing wide when you saw the sincerity swirling through his chocolate eyes. “If I do, I give you permission to give me a proper smack across the face.”

After that night things seemed to go back to normal between the two of you. Fili still kept a close eye on his younger brother whenever he was around you though. The golden prince still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Kili would do such a thing to you, ignoring you and acting as if you had some incurable and deadly disease. Sure, you were quite odd and most definitely the quietest person that they had ever met, but everyone in the company had some little ticks and quirks about them. Even after Kili had apologized and the two of you went back to normal, Fili couldn’t help but stick close by to you. He had taken it upon himself to watch over you and help you communicate with the others during Kili’s little tantrum, and ever since then he couldn’t deny how you had grown on him. Some way or another, you had caused a swirl of emotions to bury themselves deep within the eldest prince’s gut, and he would be lying to himself if he said that the feeling hadn’t grown at all. Even now Fili couldn’t seem to draw his eyes away from you, his lips pulling down into a deep frown when he saw how you shivered against the freezing rain and wind.

“Here, Mister Gandalf!” Dori’s voice somehow reached your ears through the pouring rain, though it still sounded muffled. You just barely peeked out from behind your cloaks hood, yet the dwarfs figure was blurred from the rain and the edge of your cloak. “Can’t you do something about this deluge?!” You definitely agreed with Dori’s question. Gandalf was a wizard, surely he could do something about the rain. If not stop it, maybe raise the temperature just a little bit. The rain had soaked you to the bone, as it had done with everyone else in the company, and you had a feeling that if you didn’t get somewhere warm and strip yourself of your drenched clothing, you would end up with a nasty cold. Which would only make the ache in your throat worse.

“It is raining, Master Dwarf!” You found yourself looking over to Gandalf as he replied to Dori, his words laced with slight annoyance. “And it will continue to do so until the rain is done! If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.” You couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow at the funny statement. Gandalf had never made mention of any other wizards before, so you never really took it upon yourself to question whether or not that there were any.

“Are there any?” Bilbo’s voice suddenly sounded out, startling you a bit. You had been so caught up in trying to warm yourself against Bofur’s back that you had completely forgotten about the Hobbit.

“What?” Gandalf questioned.

“Other wizards.”

You let out a low growl whenever Bofur gave your wrist a small pinch, just to make sure you were still awake, or possible still alive in weather as bad as it was. His fingers felt like ice against your already frozen skin, making you jump a bit at the feeling before you slammed your fist into his stomach lightly. The action didn’t do much damage though. Bofur merely let out a grunt while you settled back down again, your temple this time resting against his back as you watched Gandalf. “There are five of us.” The wizard spoke. “The greatest of our order is Saruman the White, then there are the two Blue Wizards…” You blinked rapidly when drops of rain fell down your lashes and into your eyes a bit, the figure of the wizard blurring. The pad of your thumbs dug into your eyes, and only after you could see again did you notice how Kili was laughing at you. You shot him a warning look as you growled lowly once more, your mood only worsening as the rain picked up. “Do you know, I’ve quite forgotten their names.” When Gandalf spoke again you turned your attention back to him, only briefly though, as Fili was waving a few ponies away to get your attention.

It wasn’t hard to tune out the conversation that Bilbo ensued with Gandalf as you turned to look at the waving prince, as the rain suddenly began to pick up and pelt your back and head harder. You winced when heavy drops of rain hit your cloaked head, more rain dripping into your eyes and falling off of the tip of your nose when you tried to pull your hood down further. Fili watched as you tried to shield your body from the rain, a prominent frown pulling down his lips at your discomfort. On any usual day he would’ve offered you his coat, but the fabric and leather were thoroughly soaked through to the lining, leaving him to weigh more than he did before the day began and keeping him cold against the wind. You were shivering quite violently, he noticed as he spurred his pony to trot next to Bofur’s pony. The older dwarf only glanced towards Fili when he matched pace with him, his floppy hat falling over his eyes a bit when he turned back to the front.

“Are you feeling alright, Y/N?”

Your eyes narrowed to slits and one of your arms tightened around Bofur’s waist when you raised your other arm, both you and the prince watching as your arm, hand, and fingers shook underneath the weight of the rain and from the coldness that spread through your body. You gave Fili a look that he read as ‘what the hell do you think?’ before you squeezed your hand into a fist, trying to get some feeling back into it. “Right, stupid question, of course you don’t feel alright. Who does in this bloody weather?” Fili looked away as the tiniest of blushes flooded his cheeks. You couldn’t help the chuckle that rumbled in your chest at his small rambling. You had noticed how flustered Fili had been getting around you recently, and you couldn’t decide if it was because of how close the two of you had gotten the past few weeks or what. “I’d offer you my coat but.. well..”

You gave a small shrug when he swept his palm over the lining of his coat, only for it to drip with rain water when he showed it to you. It didn’t seem to help either that rain was still falling from the sky, however this time at a slightly slower rate. A thankful smile pulled up your lips at his offer. Even if by some chance that his coat was dry you wouldn’t take it. You could tell that even with how naturally high dwarves body temperatures were that he was struggling to stay warm in the rain. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his darkened blonde hair falling in soaking waves around his face and shoulders. The last of Gandalf’s explanation of wizards drifted through your ears as you surveyed the dwarf and it appeared that you had zoned out— your eyes sticking to his strong features and blue eyes— for the sound of Fili clearing his throat broke you away from your train of thought.

“Do you think the rain will stop anytime soon?” You looked up at his question, blinking some when raindrops threatened to hit your eyes. You quirked an eyebrow as you did so. Sure enough, it appeared that the rain was finally starting to slow, and as you peaked above the trees and into the sky your hood fell off. “Maybe we’ll get some sunshine after all.” You hummed in agreement when you looked away from the blue sky peaking through the grey clouds. Fili was smiling when you looked back to him, his fingers de-tangling his hair a bit while he locked his eyes with yours.

You held his gaze for a moment, and when he finally looked away you watched as his blue eyes danced over your features for a quick moment. You could see the way his lips twitched under his braided mustache and how his cheeks flushed with color. He turned away finally while his hands moved to wring out his coat and tunic as the rain slowed to a complete stop. The sun was peeking through the clouds and treetops now, providing little warmth to the company as they traveled. You watched Fili a while longer as a silence fell over the two of you. He truly was an odd dwarf, not that you knew many dwarves apart from the company, but it wasn’t a bad type of odd. In fact you quite liked him. Unlike with his brother, you felt calm and protected around Fili. It wasn’t that you felt unprotected around Kili— you knew that if the occasion arose that both of them would try to defend you— it was just a different kind of feeling. It was nice and warm and inviting. Your heart fluttered whenever Fili was next to you, and your body felt warm. It was an odd feeling you got when you were around him, just as he was odd, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

Hours had passed since the rain ceased and still Thorin lead you further down your intended path. The sun was burning hot against the company’s backs now, and soaked cloaks and drenched hair had been dried and braided back to keep out of the faces of the traveling dwarves. By now you felt as if you had a good idea on how to stay comfortable while riding a pony, however your techniques varied depending on which dwarf was your riding buddy. Only one stop had been made earlier on, to allow the dwarves and others to stretch and have a light snack. And now you were on your second. Thorin had declared a while back that this stop would be a bit longer than normal, though he didn’t state his reason for that, and most of the dwarves cheered at the statement.

Your cloak was hanging neatly over a branch as you rolled the sleeves to your tunic up. After weeks of traveling with only one pair of clothes, you were gifted with another set of clothing until you had a chance to clean your own. The tunic was slightly big on you, the hem reaching your upper thigh, and the trousers you had on hung loosely against your legs. You were as grateful as ever for the clothing. And it seemed that Ori was knitting you a sweater as well. You opposed of course, writing down that he didn’t need to waste his yarn and his time on fashioning something for you. But he insisted.

“You in there, Y/N?”

You shook your head and pushed Kili’s hand away from you when his knuckles knocked against your forehead. The sword in his hand glinted against the sunlight as he backed away. You looked down to the matching sword in your hand, your fingers tightening around the hilt as you weighed the weapon in your hand while inspecting the blade. The dwarvish sword certainly was quite heavy. Your arms struggled to lift the heavy metal each time you raised it to defend yourself from Kili’s weak attacks, and you had a feeling that if he had been using his full strength that you and the sword would’ve gone flying at a particularly high blow. But as time went on it became easier for you to lift the weapon. This was only one of many training sessions that the princes had put you through. At first they were hesitant to teach you to wield a sword, but you were a persistent person. You felt bad enough that they were always watching over you, ready with a raised bow and drawn swords to defend you from an attack. Though you appreciated it at first, you grew to hate it as time went on. You didn’t want to be defenseless anymore, to constantly rely on them to protect you. So you asked them to train you, to show you how to fight and wield a weapon. And they did.

“Remember to keep your elbows in, Y/N.” Fili called from the sidelines, his hair bouncing around his face while he nodded after he saw you correct your stance. "Feet apart— like that!" It had been hard for you at first to learn the fighting style that the dwarves used in battle. You found you had to tweak it here and there, as your body wasn’t quite the same as theirs was. And you were proud to say— as were Fili and Kili— that you had come along quite well with your training. Be that it may have been only a couple of weeks and that you still weren’t as steady as you would’ve liked, but you thought you could wield a sword fairly well.

Metal clashed against metal as Kili brought his sword down again, your knees buckling ever so slightly when the weight of it hit against your own sword. Sweat lined your forehead and dripped down your back as you deflected another blow of his. He didn't seem to be any better. He had shed his coat and was in his tunic, and you found it a bit surprising that he was working up a sweat as you sparred this time around. You watched the way Kili held himself as he went to attack again, his shoulders squared as he has taught you, but his body was oddly open for someone in ‘battle’. You quirked an eyebrow when you realized he small mistake, and suddenly feeling a bit adventurous, you took a step forward before locking blades with his. Sparks ignited suddenly when you slid your blade against his own, and you couldn’t help the triumph that burned in your chest when you saw Kili’s eyes widen when you hooked the tip of your blade against the hilt of his sword and pushed him back a bit. With a flick of your wrist his sword was knocked out of his hand and crashed to the ground. You locked eyes with him, your heart swelling with joy when you saw the disbelief swimming through his, and his hands raised in surrender when you stepped forward to set the tip of your blade against his neck gently.

You were unaware of watchful eyes as you and Kili sparred, so when a chorus of claps and cheers sounded throughout the camp at your small victory, your eyes blew wide. Kili clapped his hands along with the others as you dropped your sword to the ground with a huff, your arms now shaking from holding the heavy weapon for too long. “Well done, Y/N!” Kili’s hand landed heavily against your shoulder after he retrieved his fallen sword. “You’re getting stronger everyday, don’t you think so uncle?”

The temporary camp grew quiet as they all looked towards Thorin. His eyes were set upon you and Kili, and it seemed that the little sparring match between the two of you had interested him as well. You suddenly braced yourself for his words when he looked to you, his piercing eyes running over your sore and sweat-lined body. You knew that Thorin was an exceptional fighter, if not that best within the company, and surely he was bound to insult you on your poor form or lack of upper body strength. It was true that he wasn’t as cruel as he was when you first joined the company, but you could still sense a feeling of hesitation that Thorin had whenever he looked or spoke towards you. You couldn’t help but shy away from his gaze as he continued to silently watch you, your hands shakily picking up your fallen sword to place it back into its scabbard.

“Her form is quite odd,” Thorin’s voice finally sounded out and your breath lodged in your throat at the dulcet tone. “And she’s not quite holding the sword as she should, but—“ You froze hearing his last words. You couldn’t help it as you I looked over to him again, and to your surprise you found him staring straight at you. His eyes were shadowed by his eyebrows as he observed you, his arms crossed over his broad chest. You could feel yourself bristle under his stare and for the longest time you were sure that he wasn’t going to continue. But when you saw his lips twitch under his beard, you could’ve sworn your heart jolted. “— you’re improving, Y/N.” Thorin’s voice seemed lighter as he spoke directly to you, and the company of dwarves all seemed a bit surprised at their leaders sudden change in attitude, yet a few of them hummed in agreement to his next words. “You are doing well.”

The company went quiet when Thorin gave you a small nod. Your eyes blew wide at his compliment, and you wanted to run for the hills when you locked gazes with him. You couldn’t read the expression he had on his face, and his eyes were once again shadowed, but something was swimming in them, something you had never seen before. Something almost soft and warm. Moments of silence passed before he finally turned away from you to address the company, yet you kept your gaze on him. “We leave in ten minutes.” Thorin’s eyes fell upon you for a second more until Dwalin called him away, and it wasn’t until a hand was placed against your shoulder did you look away from the dwarven king.

“Told you he’d warm up to you eventually.” You looked to see Fili smiling warmly at you, his fingers digging into your shoulder slightly before he held out his canteen. You accepted the drink with a smile, the cold liquid soothing the ache in your throat and wetting your chapped lips. After handing him his water back you rested the weight of the sword in your hands again. “He’s right you know,” As you gripped the hilt with your fingers you looked to Fili in question. A dull ache settled in your arms as you tried to lift the weapon again, and you were soon to give up on lifting it, instead opting to sit against a rock as the prince continued. “You’re getting better, and stronger too.” To make his point Fili’s fingers gently kneaded your growing biceps and his lips spread into a smile when you blushed and pulled away from him.

“I agree!” Kili had come to your other side, his hair having been braided back and away from his neck to cool him off some. He took the spot next to you on the rock to rest for a moment. “In no time at all you’ll be as good a fighter as anyone here— well, except for Bilbo that is.”

It wasn’t long before the company grew tired again. Shortly after your sparring match with Kili and after the two of you had cleaned up, the company packed up their things and mounted their ponies. Fili happened to be your riding buddy this time around, as Bofur seemed to want some time to himself. You apologized as best as you could for disturbing him, yet he didn’t seem to be put out about it, seeing as wherever you were, the princes were soon to follow. Most of your time on the pony was spent with you and Fili chatting away— well him speaking and you replying on his palm. After the first couple of hours of discussing different weapons, how to improve your fighting, and for some reason why hair grew at different rates on different people, Kili came by and started another conversation with Fili.

For the time being, as the two brothers talked, you leaned against Fili’s back as you wrapped your arms around his middle. You felt him tense for a quick second when your front fell against him and your cheek landed on the hood of his coat, but he was quick to relax again. Kili took notice of the small smile that pulled up his brother’s lips as he eyes subconsciously glanced back to you, but he only brushed it off as Fili just checking up on you. Occasionally the brothers switched from English to Khuzdul, and you assumed it was because they were discussing something that you didn’t necessarily need to know of, so you paid no mind to them. Your eyes fluttered shut when a gentle breeze blew over your body, rustling your hair and pushing it behind your ears as you relaxed while listening to them speak. The language sounded rough to you at first, but the longer you heard it being spoken the more you found it quite easy to listen too. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t know a couple of words in their language by now. But that didn’t necessarily mean you could speak yet.

Despite the hours you spent trying to talk and formulate sounds, you still were yet to speak. The company had grown accustomed to the sound of your laughter and little grunts and squeaks that you used to communicate, but something was still blocking you from actually speaking. Gandalf had been cornered many times by Fili and Kili about it, the princes questioning him on whether or not he could help you speak again. But even the wise wizard was at a loss as to what was causing your voice to be lost. Many times had you sat down in front of the others while they sounded out words— some even in Khuzdul, much to your entertainment— yet each time you opened your mouth to speak, nothing except for a small gasp of air or a little squeak fell past your lips. Defeat was sure to settle in your heart after each failed attempt at speaking. But they were quick to reassure you that you’d be speaking again, and that all they had to do was “figure out what in Mahal’s name is blocking your voice!’.

Your memory situation wasn’t any better either. While yes, you were starting to see flashes of what you assumed was your home before your time with the dwarves, you still couldn’t seem to remember any names or faces. Outlines of glowing bodies is all you saw, and whenever your vision would pan to their faces, something like a static screen would shroud their faces and cloud your vision. At first you thought these dreams were of angels. But soon you could hear them speak. They were calling your name and you would respond, but you sounded like a child— no more than a toddler it seemed to you. So you assumed they were your parents. But that was all you could remember; glowing bodies and old homes, nothing more and nothing less.

“We camp here for the night!”

You jolted up when Thorin’s voice called out. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of the sleep that clouded your mind and fogged your eyes. You let out a sigh when Fili led your shared pony into a small clearing, yet your breath got caught in your throat when you saw the remnants of what looked to be an old house. Fili held on to your arm and waist gently as he helped you down from the pony, and once he was sure that you were firmly on the ground he gave you a smile. “Fili, Kili!” Thorin had another stern look on his face as he looked towards his nephews, and you failed to notice the quirk of his eyebrow when he saw how you lingered near Fili. “Look after the ponies.” He commanded, turning away from them and instead calling for another pair of dwarves. “Oin, Gloin— get a fire going.”

Fili turned back to you with a sheepish smile on his face. “Looks like I’m on pony duty tonight.” He told you. He seemed to be hesitant in leaving you. You gave him a reassuring smile before grasping his hand to give it a small squeeze, your hair bouncing around your neck when you nodded for him to go. Kili had already begun collecting some of the ponies, while a few dwarves decided to help the prince lead their animals to whatever clearing he could find. “If you need anything— and it could be the smallest thing,” He gave you a pointed look. “Come get me or Kili, okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his statement, but to ease the seemingly continuous sense of worry that resided in him you nodded your head as you smiled. With that Fili turned to collect the rest of the ponies, and you once again found yourself looking towards the burnt looking house. Curiosity got the better of you and you soon found yourself wandering in between the pillaged home, your fingers dancing over the cracked wood. A feeling of dread and what felt like a touch of evil was quick to wash over you when you touched the wood, and you frowned when the feeling only grew the longer you stood in the house. Soon enough you found yourself standing behind Thorin as he conversed with Gandalf, the latter meeting you eyes for a quick second before he looked back to the Dwarven leader with a stern glare.

“I think it would be wise to move on.” Gandalf stated, eliciting a small scoff from Thorin while you rose an eyebrow. “We could make for the Hidden Valley.”

“I have told you already, I will not go near that place.”

You couldn’t help the confusion that ran through your body at Thorin’s words and the bitterness that laced them. Surely Gandalf knew of a better, safer place than in a clearing with a burnt house— one that made you feel worried no less— so what made Thorin so hesitant to go near this Valley? “Why not?” Gandalf seemed to grow more frustrated as the conversation went on, and for a second you felt bad for intruding on their conversation. You took a tiny step back as you grasped another pillar of old wood, hiding behind it to give them a bit more privacy. “The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice.” Elves? At this point you wouldn’t doubt that Elves existed, especially after spending nearly a month with dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard. But what was the look that Gandalf shot you when speaking of advice? Could the Elves have some ideas on why you couldn’t talk?

Hope sprouted in your chest at the thought, and the small smile that formed on your face grew as you looked towards Thorin as he went to reply. “I do not need their advice.” Thorin’s voice was cold and biting and though you couldn’t see the front of him, you were certain that his eyes were narrowed in a heavy glare. His words made the smile on your face disappear. You weren’t entirely sure he knew that you were standing behind him, but even if he did his words burned your hope of finding out why you couldn’t speak and then of talking again at the roots. If Thorin didn’t want to go see the Elves, the one race that might be able to fix you, then surely you would not go.

“We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us—“

“Help? A dragon attacks Erebor and what help comes from the Elves?” You couldn’t help the small gasp that came from you at Thorin’s words. “Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves look on and do nothing.” A sudden bout of sympathy and sorrow buzzed through your body at his comment and you couldn’t help but feel for the dwarf. It was true that you had no idea what it was that the dwarves— namely Thorin— went through, and even though you were told the stories you never did quite understand it all. But the utter anger and woe that was sewn in with Thorin’s words troubled you. “You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed grandfather and betrayed my father?”

“You are neither of them.” Your eyes traveled to Gandalf when he spoke, his voice lowering when the touchy subject was spoken of, yet he still held a snappy tone in his words. “I did not give you the map and key for you to hold on to the past.”

“I did not know that they were yours to keep.” That seemed to be the last straw for Gandalf. The wizard let out a huff before spinning on his heels and retreating. You noticed how he shot you one last look before he stomped away from the house and towards the edge of the forest, and it wasn’t until you took another step forward did Thorin finally turn away. You froze when his eyes finally landed on your figure. His eyebrows quirked upon seeing you there, yet his lips turned down in a scowl when he realized that you had most likely heard his conversation with Gandalf. Not wanting to anger him more you raised your hands in defense while taking a small step back.

“I gather you heard everything.” Thorin’s voice was low and somewhat timid when he finally spoke. When you didn’t respond right away he shot you a questioning look, one to which you quickly nodded before hiding your arms behind your back under your cloak. He seemed to deflate at your response, his chest heaving with a deep sigh. Thorin remained silent for the time being when he stepped forward and towards what used to be a fireplace. You watched him as he seemed to fall into a deep thought. His eyebrows were knitted deeply together as he zoned out for a moment, and what light was left from the shining sun seemed to darken the lines that were on his face. He looked so tired and so angry. For the first time since joining the company you found yourself feeling sorry for him, and you didn’t even realize that you had moved again until you were beside him.

When your hand was set upon his shoulder he jumped a bit, his eyes widening for a moment when he looked towards your fingers curling around his coat and then to your face. Your lips were curled up in the smallest of smiles and your eyes were swimming with something Thorin couldn’t quite understand. You weren’t sure what compelled you to do so, but you found yourself reaching for his wrist, and when your fingers touched his skin you gently turned his palm to the sky. He flinched at the sudden touch at first but he didn’t pull away. Thorin had seen you do this with his nephews nearly hundreds of times before, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that you exactly did when cradling their hands. But now that you were doing the same to him, your palm holding the back of his hand gently while your finger traced letters against his palm, he felt himself freeze.

ELVES ARE BAD?

Thorin’s eyebrows raised to his hairline at your question. It definitely wasn’t the one he was expecting you to ask, and it brought a chuckle to come tumbling past his thin lips. He merely nodded his head in reply to your question before he looked back to your hands, your finger now gliding across his skin again. However, instead of paying attention to the letters you were drawing on his skin Thorin found himself paying more attention to the feeling of your hand against his. Your palm felt rather soft as it held on to his calloused one, and your finger left small tingles against his palm while your nails dragged across the skin. It brought shivers to his spine. After a while Thorin had noticed you stopped writing and when he looked up to you, he found you were looking at him, eyebrows raised and lips curled into a small grin. “My apologies,” He looked away for a second, his free hand clenching by his side. You easily repeated your past actions and traced your finger over his palm again, this time with him paying attention.

TELL ME ABOUT THEM?

“Maybe another time, Y/N.” Thorin failed to notice the frown that spread across your face when he dropped his hand from your grasp and he looked away. “For now, you should rest with the others.” You followed close behind Thorin as he walked to the edge of the burnt house, his eyes scanning the company of dwarves that were either sat around the fire or still unpacking their things. He hummed upon finding one dwarf in particular. “Come on, Bombur, we’re hungry.”

After that you shared another look with Thorin when he turned to you, this time his eyes softening when you smiled before he stalked off. You watched him for a while longer before you stepped down onto a rock in front of the house, your back facing the inside of the old and ransacked house as you looked out to the dwarves. Dread still lingered over you when you were in the house, but it seemed stepping out onto the open lifted that feeling a bit. As commanded Bombur worked quickly to put together some supper. You weren’t quite sure what it was that he was cooking, but at that point you didn’t care. Your stomach was rumbling and aching with hunger. The dwarf was kind enough to relieve you of your duties for the night, allowing you to rest for the time being as he chopped herbs and splashed what few spices he had into the broth. You were thankful for him doing that, but silently promised that you would at least wash whatever bowls and utensils that needed to be cleaned at the end of the night. It wasn’t long before the sun fully set and disappeared behind the hills of the horizon, and soon enough the moon replaced it, followed by millions of burning stars.

Shortly after Bombur had finished cooking and called for the company to come get their fill, you were sat snuggly between Ori and his older brother, Dori. The younger of the two had finished his supper in record time, explaining that if he did so he would have more time to work on your sweater. Dori, though smiling at the fact that Ori wanted to make something for you, scolded his brother for scarfing his food down so fast. You chuckled at the brothers, watching as Ori expertly worked his needles around the thick olive yarn as you scooped spoonfuls of your supper into your mouth.

“He’s been gone a long time.” You turned away from Ori when Bilbo spoke up for the first time in a while. His gaze was fixated on the edge of the forest, the same spot where Gandalf had disappeared into hours before. You frowned upon realizing that his words were true. It had been quite some time since the wizard wandered off to collect his thoughts and calm down again, and in thinking back to his argument your eyes wandered over to where Thorin was sat. The frown on your face sunk in deeper when you noticed his lack of food and that he was isolated from the company. Even Dwalin was being social and was mingling with his brother a bit.

“Who?” You stood up when Bofur questioned the hobbit. You had finished your own supper seconds beforehand, and as you handed him your bowl you saw how his smile widened. He must’ve thought that you were hungry for more, and while on a normal night you would’ve welcomed seconds, you shook your head. Instead your finger pointed towards an empty bowl that had yet to be filled with supper.

“Gandalf.”

Bofur seemed confused by your request at first, but when you motioned to where Thorin was sitting by himself, a fond smile formed on his lips under his beard before he replied to Bilbo. “He’s a wizard. He does as he chooses.” After filling the bowl with supper and handing you a small loaf of bread Bofur gave the back of your hand a small pat. He had seen the way Thorin’s attitude had been changing towards you little-by-little, and your little interaction earlier made his chest fill with pride; the dwarf felt proud that you were finally giving the leader of the company a chance. “Here, do us a favor. Take this to the lads." Bofur watched your retreating figure for a second before he filled and handed two bowls off to Bilbo, giving the hobbit a look before turning back to Bombur, giving his hand a small smack. “You’ve had enough! Save some for the rest of us!”

It seemed that everyone in the company knew of your intentions as you weaved your way through them. You could feel them smile at you or give you encouraging gestures as you neared Thorin, your cloak brushing against fallen logs and jagged rocks. Especially Balin. The white-bearded dwarf seeming to have glowing eyes as he watched you, his lips turned up in a smile as he talked with Dwalin. Your steps stilled when you were a few feet away from him, and it seemed he still had yet to notice you. His eyes were cast over the dark horizon and on to the hilly plains. He seemed deep in thought again, and it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he finally looked at you.

“Y/N. What’re you— oh…” Thorin’s eyes found your outstretched hands and the bowl of supper you were offering him. Upon looking to the food his stomach let out a monsterous growl. You weren’t sure if it was because of the exhaustion that was messing with your vision or the shadow of the fire, but you could’ve sworn you caught a blush settling under his beard and on top of his nose. “Thank you.” His fingers brushed against the top of your hands as you passed him the bowl of warm supper, and his lips turned up into a smile when he did so. Just as before your skin felt soft against his own. You gracefully returned the smile once he had his supper in his hands, and you gave a small nod before lacing your fingers together behind your back as you turned to leave. But he stopped you. “Y/N, wait. Would you sit with me. I would like to.. discuss something with you.”

You froze at his words. As you turned back to face him you wrapped your cloak tighter around your body, a sudden feeling of dread washing over you again. However whatever it is he wanted to discuss wasn’t something you needed to fear, it seemed, as the look on his face was soft and almost kind. His eyes seemed lighter in the moonlight and a sincere smile was on his face. Thorin had moved to the side a bit, allowing a small space for you to sit next to him. “Please, Y/N.” Your feet seemed to move on their own and soon you were standing in front of the spot, your knee just brushing the fabric that covered his own. You looked between the open space and him for a moment as a hesitancy filled your gut. This had been the first day that he had tried to engage in civil conversation with you, and even though you found his words oddly pleasant, you couldn’t help but shy away a bit, fearing that maybe he would revert to his old self and go back to hating you. But you compiled anyways, yet anxiety still settled in your stomach as you sat next to him.

“I just want to… apologize for my actions towards you. I have not been the most civil dwarf towards you.” You kept your eyes on your fingers as you listened to his words. It was shocking to hear them fall past his lips in such a hurry as they did, and you didn’t doubt that if you were to be looking at him he wouldn’t be looking back at you. “I understand if you are not willing to accept my apology right away, as I know that since your arrival I have been nothing but cruel towards you. Truly I am sorry for the way I’ve treated you. Had I realized earlier that.. that you—“ By now your gaze had landed on Thorin as he voiced out his apology, but for some reason he seemed at a loss for words now as he clenched his jaw. His apology sent your heart soaring into the sky and you felt relief flood your veins. You could see he was still trying to figure out what to say next, and when gratitude sparked in your stomach you reached out for him again, your fingers curling around his thick ones. Thorin glanced to the way your hand wrapped around his own, and he couldn’t help but smile. “I do not deserve the patience and kindness you have shown me, Y/N.”

It was true, he didn’t think he deserved how kind you had been to him and how patience you were. It was often that during your travels that his words were biting and intending to harm you, but each time you merely nodded and complied with his commands. Granted, you never really smiled as much as you had smiled towards him this day, but you never once defied him. Mostly it was out of fear that you didn’t go against him, but he always saw you pressing on. When you shifted your hold on his hand to press a finger against his palm Thorin looked down, his blue eyes watching as you drew soft letters into his skin.

YOU HAD REASONS.

Thorin frowned at this. Yes, he did have his reasons for acting cold towards you, but that didn’t mean they were necessarily good reasons. He kept quiet when your fingers moved again, this time his eyes lingering on your face rather than on how your fingers moved against his skin. You eyes were shining with sincerity as looked down, your lips pursed and your teeth gnawing on the skin of your cheek every so often. The way your skin seemed to glisten in the moonlight was something that Thorin had never noticed before. Neither had he paid any mind to the way your hair seemed to fall in soft waves over your ears. A sense of longing suddenly erupted in the pit of his stomach, his fingers suddenly itching to caress the strands of your hair and comb them with his fingers. Yet he shook the feeling away when your fingers tapped against his palm two times, gaining his attention again. You went back to writing for the third time, and this time Thorin made sure to not let his eyes wander.

ALL IS FORGIVEN.

“Are you certain?” Thorin’s voice was tight and he suddenly scooped your hand into his large ones. The look he sent your way caused your breath to hitch. “I know I cannot change what happened but I—“ You were quick to cut him off with a tight squeeze to his hand. Once again your lips were pulled into a smile, though this one larger than ever before, and you nodded frantically hoping that he understood. All at once he seemed to relax, relief causing him to heave out a deep sigh. His fingers tightened around yours once more and the smile on his face shone with gratitude. A peaceful silence fell upon the two of you shortly after that, yet your hands stayed locked together when you looked out into the twinkling stars that covered the sky. The smile on your face was soft and genuine, and for a moment you felt that after your warm supper, your new friendship with Thorin, and the sudden buzzing feeling of contentment in your heart that you would sleep like a baby tonight.

But the moment of peace and stillness didn’t last for much longer. You jumped when Fili came bursting through the tree’s, face red and chest heaving as he stumbled to a stop as his hands dropped against his knees while he gasped for air. Your eyes blew wide at the sight and worry spread through you as you went to go to him, your cloak blowing behind you as you dashed forward. Thorin dropped your hand as you did so, but not before his fingers brushed against your palm as he let you go. You stopped, however, just by the fire when Fili jumped up, eyes wide with fear as he looked around the camp. When his eyes landed on you he reached forward, fingers beckoning you to come to him. Yet as he spoke, your blood ran cold with fear as you stayed glued to your spot.

“Trolls!”

[itskimtaehyung]

Blindspot

Who is he? Who is the man with no eyes?

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader (non romantic)

Genre: Supernatural Horror, Drama

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary:  Everywhere you turn, he’s there, just barely on the edge of your vision. No one else seems to see him. He outside on the street, in your house, in your room. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you’re unable to look at him directly.

Warnings: mentions of death and blood

A/N: if y’all dont already think i’m the worst procrastinator ever i’ll have you know that i started this fic in august of 2018 and meant to finish it for halloween of 2018 but i couldn’t even finish it in time for halloween of 2019 bc im trash

Two children, a boy and a girl, played along the rocks at the waterfront. It was overcast today, as it usually was, and a dense fog rolled over the bay toward the shore. They scuttled along, chasing crabs, attempting to grab the tiny, orange critters as they disappeared into the water. Their mother watched from a bench a few feet away. 

“Be careful, loves. We can’t afford to lose anymore people here.”

The children nodded understandingly and proceeded with their activity. That is, when the eldest, the sister, spotted something strange amongst the jagged rocks that jutted out from the mellow tides. 

“Mommy! What’s that?”

The mother stood up from the bench and calmly strolled over to her daughter. She peered down at the rocks, and saw the strange figure that was jammed between them. 

The mother let out a sigh. “That’s Stephanie. Do you remember her? She baked brownies for the bake sale last month.”

The son nodded. “I thought she went missing last week.”

“She did. This is where the people who go missing sometimes end up. Come on, children.” She held out both her hands and each child took one. “You two walk on home while I go tell Sheriff Strazzeri.”

Emerald Bay was too small for a proper sheriff’s department, or a crime scene investigation unit. It was just Sheriff Strazzeri, passionate about the law, and his son, Will, who attended the town’s subpar, probably not accredited by any other town’s standards, medical school. Together they investigated all the weird things that happen in this tiny town.  

People always say there’s nothing to do in Emerald Bay. They’re pretty much right. It’s a small coastal town, with a population of about four hundred and declining. On the east side of Emerald Bay is the Marina, lined with abandoned boats that smell of rotting fish and are covered with ancient, dried-up barnacles. On the west side is your ticket out: a dirt road that leads into the forest, a thick, dense barrier of emerald painted evergreens. That’s where the town gets its name. And past the forest is the farmland, and past the farmland is the big city. So why don’t people leave Emerald Bay? Why don’t they abandon it completely?

The answer? No one ever makes it out of the forest alive. 

Everytime someone packs their bags and tries to leave Emerald Bay, something prevents them from truly leaving. You remember when you were young, maybe three or four years old, your neighbor, Ben, decided he had enough of the monotony of this town, and got in his car and started driving. You thought he was off to a bigger and better life, somewhere out in the big city, but three days later, they found his car broken down on the road in the forest, with his dead body rotting inside. 

A few years before that, a woman who had been widowed, thought it was too difficult living in the house she had shared with her husband. She didn’t even take her things. She just started walking. She wandered into the forest, and a few days later, her body was found floating in between the boats at the Marina. In the pocket of her yellow raincoat was a piece of paper, surprisingly undamaged. On it was a drawing, done in what appeared to be blood. It looked like it was drawn by a toddler, simple and cartoonish. It was of a man, or rather a stick figure, with something over his eyes. Below the drawing were two words: SAVE ME. 

This has been going on for as long as anyone can remember. Residents have tried to explain this strange phenomenon, sometimes with outlandish theories. But the most common theory, and what you think is the most plausible one, sprang from the drawing found in the widow’s pocket.

Many think that she was trying to warn us. That she drew it in a haste before she died. Many think that there is a man in the forest. One that wears a piece of cloth over his eyes. One that takes the lives of anyone who wanders into his home.

Supposedly he lives in the forest alone. Deep into the dark woods, making himself known only at night. His skin and his hair are an ashy gray, and he is said to glow under a full moon. But the most distinguishing thing about him is he always wears a black blindfold. Why? Because he is blind. Because he is the man with no eyes. 

You have always been interested in this kind of stuff. The spooky, the scary, the unsettling. Slenderman theories completely consumed you in grade school. So did werewolves, ghosts, and all things supernatural. You’ve always managed to prove them all as myths. Except this one.

You had almost forgotten about the man in the forest until last week. 

Mark was a well beloved citizen of Emerald Bay. You had been in school with him your whole life. He was so incredibly smart and gifted. Everyone thought he would become mayor one day or something. That is, until a couple of weeks ago, when he went missing.

His family said he went to buy milk from the grocery store and he never returned. All of Emerald Bay were on the lookout, although there aren’t very many places to hide in such a small town. He had no reason to run away either. His parents were very loving, and his friends were supportive. No one ever imagined that he would do such a thing. 

A week after Mark went missing, his body is found at the edge of the forest. There’s no sign of injury, and he wasn’t gone long enough to die from thirst or starvation. Will can’t find anything wrong with him. He can’t even determine when Mark had died.

As an ordinary citizen, you don’t have access to many of the details surrounding Mark’s death. All the information you get is from what they print in the local newspaper, and you know those things never tell the whole story. You began volunteering at the local library a few months back, hoping to gain more access to the towns archives, but there are so many newspapers and journals that it quickly became overwhelming, and you put a pause on poring through them. However, being the urban legend enthusiast you are, you want to know more, and the only way to get information is to dig it up yourself.

That’s why you waited until tonight, the night of the first full moon since they discovered Mark’s body. You equip yourself with a flashlight, pepper spray, and a sledge hammer (you know, just in case). You’ve never hunted this kind of creature before, so you don’t know what kind of equipment you would need. It’s stupid to go out into the forest alone, especially on the night of a full moon, but you don’t know anyone stupid enough to agree to go with you. 

The streets are dead, as they are every night, when you pull your car up to the edge of the forest. You can see the full moon peeking through the branches of the trees, round and luminous.

You must go on foot from here. The roads in the forest are bumpy and jagged from the tree roots breaking through the asphalt. You would bust a tire within seconds of entering. 

The chilly sea breeze nips at your skin when you exit your car. You pop open your trunk and grab your hunting supplies: An EMF meter you built yourself, your sledge hammer for defense, holy water blessed by Reverend Kang, some dried sage, and a wooden stake because vampires aren’t real but you never know, right?

You close the trunk and step away from your car. The breeze seems to get stronger as you walk toward the forest, almost as if it’s pulling you into it. You let it lure you in amongst the trees. You follow it until you can’t see your car behind you anymore, and still you continue on. You make your way around a large tree and then stop dead in your tracks. In front of you is a figure, glowing so brightly that you can’t discern any actual shapes. You just know that it is vaguely human. 

“Y/N.” The sound echoes in your ears. The voice is melodic, calming, unlike anything you’ve heard before.

You struggle to catch your breath. “H-how do you know my name?”

“I know everything.” The figure lifts its hand up and beckons you. “Come closer.”

You can feel your limbs wanting to move on their own. You try to resist it and stand your ground. You don’t want to go near him. You want to stay a safe distance away, but he’s too strong, and he pulls you closer to him. Soon, the two of you are face to face, and you can make out his features. His hair glows silver, and his icy white skin contrasts starkly with the black blindfold that covers his eyes. He radiates a strange energy, one that you’ve never experienced before. It’s cold, yet warm at the same time. Goosebumps prickle on your skin, yet your body feels feverish. Your chest feels tight as you struggle to fill your lungs with air. 

“W-what are you?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I am ancient. I am the only one of my kind, therefore I don’t have a name. But you may call me Jimin.” 

“Jimin,” you mutter in awe. You have so many questions for this strange creature. You never thought you’d actually find him, and now that you have, you must make the most of it. “There are so many things I want to know. Why do you take people? Why do you kill the residents of Emerald Bay?”

“I simply call to them. It is their choice whether they answer or not.”

“Are you calling me to right now?”

“Yes.” Jimin furrows his brows in confusion. “But you seem to be resisting my charm.”

“I’m not here to be your next victim.”

“Then why are you here?”

“LIke I said before. To find out why you take people, why you kill them.”

“But that’s not the only reason. The people who come here are unhappy. They want more from Emerald Bay. No one wanders into the forest, no matter how curious, unless they don’t mind being taken.”

“That’s not true,” you refute. 

“Isn’t it? Think about everyone who has wandered in here. Think about your own self.”

You open your mouth to speak, to tell him he’s wrong. But with the blink of an eye he’s gone.

You drive home dejectedly. Yes, you found Jimin, but now you have more questions than answers. What is he? Why does he kill people? How does he do it? 

You get farther and farther away from the forest. It’s nearly morning and the AM fog is starting to roll in from the ocean, coating the town in a thick blanket of gray. It’s so thick, you can barely see the block ahead of you. Your eyes momentarily wander away from the road to check your mirrors. Your tires screech as you suddenly slam on the brakes. You rub your eyes and blink. You could have sworn you just saw something in your back seat. And you’re almost positive that something was Jimin. But as you glance back up at your rear view, there’s no one there. It’s just your empty back seat and the eerie fog behind you. 

You tell yourself that you’re just seeing things. You didn’t get any sleep last night and you’re starting to hallucinate. 

When you get home, you’re so exhausted that you immediately collapse onto your bed and fall asleep. If you dream that night, you don’t remember any of them.

You sleep until you can’t anymore, and you lay in bed until your body aches. It screams at you to get up, and so you do, making your way to the bathroom to wash your face. 

You splash the cool water over your skin, rinsing off the cleanser that still clings to the area around your eyes. Afterward, you use a towel to pat your skin dry and take a look in the mirror. You freeze and nearly drop the towel. Over your shoulder, you can see Jimin standing, watching but not watching. 

You whip around but there’s nothing there. When you look back in the mirror, he’s nowhere to be seen. You got plenty of sleep this morning, so there’s no reason for you to be seeing things. But what else could possibly explain this?

Something doesn’t feel right. 

As hard as you try, you can’t bring your eyes to open. You can sense it. You can feel something in your room. You sense an unmistakable presence at the foot of your bed. It feels, evil, demonic, malevolent. 

You gasp for air, but the blankets seem to suffocate you. You want to push them off so you can breathe, but you’re paralyzed. Your heart races as you try to will yourself to open your eyes, to take a deep breath, anything. 

As quick as it comes, the feeling is gone. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You wiggle your toes to see if you can move again, but you’re too scared to open your eyes. Instead, you bury yourself deeper beneath your covers and try to fall asleep, but you can’t shake the feeling that something truly evil was just in your room. 

When you finally succumb to slumber, you dream of the forest that night. 

You’re running. The brisk air and the smell of pine nip at your nostrils. Your lungs burn, and no matter how hard you push yourself, you can’t seem to move faster than a crawl. You feel something chasing you, and you’re trying to get away. You’re trying to get back to the main road where you’ve parked your car, but the only thing around you is endless forest. Your heart feels as if it’s going to explode. 

Faster, faster, you tell yourself. But it’s no use. You can’t go any faster. 

You run and run. You don’t see the fallen branch on the ground until your foot catches on it, and you hurdle forward, putting your hands out to break the fall. 

But you never hit the ground, because the panic jolts you awake. 

This time you’re able to open your eyes, and it’s daylight out. Your clock says 7:03, twelve minutes before the alarm is supposed to go off and you have to get ready for school. 

When you sit up your brain pounds with a massive migraine that leaves you a bit nauseous. You wash your face in the sink like you do every morning, but today, you don’t see Jimin in the reflection with you. You bend over to rinse the cleanser off your face, and when you stand back up straight, you’re hit with a sudden wave a dizziness. Bile makes its way up your throat and you heave violently into the sink until it’s filled with thick, dark blood. 

When you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you see your mouth covered in red. You stumble back as a high pitched scream rings through your ears. 

Your mom rushes up the stairs and sticks her head in to the bathroom. “Is everything alright? Why did you scream?” 

You turn to face her. Can’t she see that your mouth is covered in blood? She’s not looking at you in horror, her concerned expression does not waver. When you glance back in the mirror, there’s no blood to be seen, and the sink is spotless as well. 

“Ye-yeah, Mom. I just…” you wrack your brain for an excuse, “thought I saw a spider. That’s all. Everything is fine.” But you can still taste the metallic tang on your tongue. 

When she leaves you look back in the mirror and Jimin stands in her place. You can feel his gaze piercing through the cloth over his eyes. 

With the blink of an eye he’s gone. 

Your life goes on like this for days, weeks. Everywhere you turn, he’s there, just barely on the edge of your vision. No one else seems to see him. He outside on the street, in your house, in your room. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you’re unable to look at him directly. You can’t sleep. You can barely eat. You can’t focus. 

You can’t stand it anymore. You need answers.

The Emerald Bay Library is old, much like all the other buildings in Emerald Bay. It’s been here for longer than even the oldest residents of the town can remember. Its shelves are filled mostly with novels from the previous century. No one knows where they came from. They seemingly just manifested one day. It’s part of the mystery of how this town came into existence.

After your volunteer shift, you tell Head Librarian Kim that you’re going to stay behind to do some research for a class project. He hands you the keys and tells you to lock up when you’re done without questioning you any further. The second he leaves, you head a computer to search the town archives. You look for journals, newspaper articles, anything that documents strange and inexplicable happenings. You write down some promising pieces along with their call number and set off to find them. 

When you turn the corner to head down one of the aisles, you can feel him. You look around you, seeing if you can find him lurking in the shadows. You don’t see anything, but his presence, the heaviness in the air, this thick, eerie feeling, is unmistakable. 

Shrugging it off, you scan the bookshelf for what you’re looking for. You trace your fingers over it’s spine, almost as old as the town itself.

The Mystery and Lore of Emerald Bay

You pluck the book from the shelf. It’s dusty, like it hadn't been touched in years. 

You wander over to the tables that sit in between the shelves and take a seat. The book’s leathery cover feels dry beneath your fingers. Stiff and crusty. Dust flies up toward your face as you open the book and flip through its yellowed pages, filled with handwritten and hand drawn accounts of unexplained phenomena that once sent the town into panic. 

The first is the chupacabra, from the time the town’s cattle were disappearing. Turns out it was just a resident who didn’t want to pay for beef at the local butcher shop and decided to take and slaughter them for himself.

Then the Emerald Bay Monster, which was quickly determined to merely be driftwood.

Along with a few other things that have since been solved by modern science. Things like poisonous mushrooms, lightning bugs, and fairy rings.

Finally, at the end of the book, you find what you’re looking for. 

The Man with No Eyes

You skim through the introduction and description of Jimin, then some eye witness accounts written by former residents of Emerald Bay, long dead from old age or maybe even something more sinister. Then you find what you’re looking for. 

Not much is known about this mysterious man, only that he kills. Some say that he is both immortal and invulnerable, making him impervious to any harm one might attempt to inflict upon him. However, there are rumors from the ancient times about this man. There have been no records of whether anyone has actually attempted these methods, however, the creature still stands, which is a testament to something. If one truly wants to know, legend has it that the only way to kill him is–

You’re about to turn the page only to find that the subsequent pages have been ripped out, and on the back cover, written in what appears to be blood, are the words: 

YOU  CAN’T KILL ME

You drop the book as soon as you see it.

You want to yell at him, to scream. But it’s hard to talk to something you can’t face directly. “What do you want? Why won’t you leave me alone?”

“I will be here until you give into me.”

You whip your head around, only to be met with dusty bookshelves and darkness. 

“Is this how you got the others to do it? By messing with their heads? Come out where I can see you!”

That’s when the bright, glowing figure steps out from the shadows and stands in front of you. His face is expressionless as he stares at you through the pitch black blindfold. 

“Do you think they just happened to go to the forest, just because you wanted to?” Jimin asks. “No, that was me, calling to them. And now I am calling to you. I have come to claim you. It is your time.”

You shake your head and stand your ground. 

“Come to me,” he beckons. 

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then I will choose someone else,” he answers plainly. 

“I don’t want someone else to die but I don’t want to die either!”

”Then don’t. You don’t have to die. Just come to me.”

“Why don’t you just leave me alone? Why don’t you leave all of us alone?”

“It’s not in my nature. My species feeds off of your energy, your sadness.”

“And if we don’t give it to you, you die?”

Jimin chuckles. “No, you can’t kill me that easily. I simply get angrier, more violent until I get what I want.”

When he smiles, you can see his teeth. Sharp, jagged. There are rows of them, like shark teeth. Your heart pounds in your chest. You take a step back, but Jimin is quick to step toward you. You take another step, but the backs of your legs hit the table. You quickly dart your eyes around the room, searching for an exit route. There are tables, chairs, and shelves in the way. The main entrance is on the other side of the library, and Jimin stands in the way of the emergency door. 

“There’s nowhere for you to run, Y/N. Because as fast as you run, I will always be faster.” 

“What happens when I give in?”

“You’ll find out.”

He removes his blindfold to reveal the brightest, most blinding light you have ever seen.

The same woman watches as her children play along the shore. a light breeze blows a crumpled piece of paper to her feet. she picks it up and reads it, sighing. 

MISSING PERSON Y/N Along with a photo your mom took of you two years ago. 

You’ve been missing for over two months now. Usually the bodies turn up within a couple of weeks. No one was brave enough to go into the forest to look for you. Not even Officer Strazzeri. Not even your mother. 

Maybe you weren’t taken. Maybe you were a lucky one. Maybe you were actually able to escape Emerald Bay onto bigger and better things. 

[peacekeeper-xiv]

Serious Events

A series of events…

Aeritria and Arakiel meet accidentally inside Samael house.

Aeritria Locklair stopped dead in her tracks when Ara turned around. The blood drained from what little he could see of her face, and her eyes narrowed moving over him to look for weapons, surprises, explosives, all the things he might have on him while in Soren's house. It took her a couple ticks to reconcile the sight of him in Soren's house. Alive. Not dead. Not even thinking of the advantage that came from him not knowing who she was, she finally spoke, "Well bloody damn hell... you look surprisingly healthy for a dead man."

 Arakiel agrees to travel with Aeritria east, having decided that Ikara had been gone for too long and he was going to look for his daughter. They discover that they still have some disagreements though.

Arakiel Etemorah smirked. "Wrath?" He chuckled smarmily. "Kinda daft name to call a kid. He pick that out himself?" Still, he didn't seem intent on keeping up his teasing. "And what do they all mean to ya? What would you do if they were in danger?"

Aeritria Locklair rolled her eyes, "Its short, for Rathorin... " When he questioned her on what they meant to her and what she would do there was clearly a reaction. She tried to keep the calm, snarky demeanor, but too many things had already happened where she had given a whole lot for those three. There was the briefest of haunted looks before it was replaced with tense shoulders and a defensive posture. "Enough..."  Her lips pulled into a thin line, "Is that supposed to be a threat?”

Arakiel Etemorah smiled knowingly and shook his head. "No, but that's answer enough." Sheathing his katana, he stood. "I have a daughter. She should have returned by now, but she hasn't. That's what's in the Burn." His expression turned somewhat grim. "I wanted you to know before you decided to follow me. I'm willing to do -enough- for her.”

 Aeritria agrees to accompany Arakiel in his search for Ikara and together, they make for The Burn. Arakiels insistence on drawing out Aeritrias ire though, nearly sets them at odds.

Aeritria Thorne had never been good at reining in her temper, it was why she made such a good marauder. It was also why she had made such a good criminal. There was a sudden shift from her that would hit every one of his senses. The growled words came out with cold fury, "Fuck you Arakiel. I came out to help you, but that was just another dumbass mistake on my part. Everything is fucking fine. Its more godsdamn fine than it has been in over a twelves damned year, but you just can't leave well the fuck enough alone. I don't want to fucking talk about it cause its none of your gods damned business. You don't get to fucking come back from the dead and act like I should just fucking ugh!" Axe or no axe, there was a hint of red glowing in the abysmal darkness of her eyes before she turned around and started storming away. "Fuck you!"

It would be some time after that they managed to work out their difference, but once they had they concluded, wandering the desert in search of one small Au Ra was futile. Aeritria then turned to a dangerous source of power to send out the needed signal flare, her Dark Knight soul stone.

Aeritria Thorne took a few moments to try to catch her breath and shake away the voices that still tried to reach her from the stone. Running her fingers through her hair to push it out of the way she glared over at it for a moment. "I tried to warn you the darn thing isn't... as helpful as I like sometimes. I really did kick Rath's balls all the way into his throat last time I used the damn thing." Aeri rubbed the back of her neck and looked away, "Sorry... I haven't used it in a long while. With my other soul stones... it’s easy. It’s like they want to help. That one... there is still a bit of a fight going on with who is in charge of who."

 After some time arguing with the voices in her mind, Aeritria finally was able to cause a large enough explosion of aether that could be seen from malms around. The fact that it nearly killed herself and Arakiel was of little consequence.

Arakiel Etemorah wasn't a hero. It just wasn't in him. But he wasn't the same man he'd been a few years ago either. The blade in his hands was quickly sheathed and he rushed forward to where Aeritria stumbled. He wasn't about to pick her up and carry her away from danger like some knight in shining armor. But then, she'd have hated that. He grabbed her by the wrist and literally dragged her behind him. "Come the fuck on!" He wasn't going to let her go until they were behind enough rock to guarantee they would be safe from the explosion that was likely coming.

 Several bells later, their fishing attempt proved fruitful and they noted the appearance of an approaching figure. Unfortunately, it was not exactly who they had been looking for.

Arakiel Etemorah sheathed his blade, looking at her curiously as his hearing had not completely recovered. "One of them?" He looked to where the creature had been sniped and put two and two together. "The boy..." The unknown Miqo'te still seemed rather protective of Beta and stood between them and him, even if his weapon was put away. Beta's familiar voice shouted across the sands as he approached. "It's okay Aasifa, they are... family of a sort I guess?" The one called Aasifa seemed to relax a bit and plopped down in the sand as Beta and Ara and Aeri approached his location. "Aasifa is still thinking there are better ways to fish." He said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. Arakiel's steps seemed to hasten as he approached.

 With so many differing personalities… and because Aasifa is Aasifa, some troubles did arise.

 Aeritria Thorne saw Arakiel start choking after Aasifa did whatever the hell it was that he did and her attention snapped to the Miqo'te. Her chakrams came out and pinned Aasifa to one of the rock walls by his sleeves, "The Fuck you think you are doing you piece of shit! What the hell did you do to him?!"  She stood between Arakiel and Aasifa, and if looks could kill he would have been dead a thousand times over. She held a finger up to Beta to shut him up before he tried to 'help'.

 Eventually though, a peace was brokered, and the quartet left in search of the large sources of aether that Beta’s instruments had detected after the explosion Aeritria had caused.

Arakiel Etemorah might have moved to stop Aeri if she had still wielding her chakrams, but he did not expect the idiot cat to die from a punch. Beta called out in frustration as the punch landed. Aasifa for his part might have dodged the attack, if he'd bothered to try. Instead he took the hit to the throat and grinned at her as though he almost enjoyed all the chaos he'd caused. "Was... good... hit." He croaked out from a damaged voice. "Proud... of... sister." He ripped his sleeves free from the blades and found his feet on the sand once more. He didn't retaliate, simply rubbed at his throat and looked at her expectedly. Beta however was exasperated. "I swear to Alexander! Everyone's crazy!" He huffed and put away the smoke bomb and electric charge he'd been prepping if they hadn't stopped. Aeri's words had registered with him, but he knew better than provoking her further and refused to retort. "Can we get back to looking for Ikara now? Since you and I are the only ones who can speak now, I'll take your word for both of you."

Aeritria Thorne grit her teeth, dug her sharp nails into her palms and drew blood from her own hands to keep from murdering Aasifa right there and then. She reached over, grabbed her Chakrams, held them tight for a moment, still wound up and considering putting them through the rest of Aasifa's neck. It was Beta that managed to draw her out of it with his ridiculous cursing, "For fucks sake... didn't anyone ever teach you to curse properly?" She looked to Arakiel then took another breath. "I came out here to find you and Ikara... if Aasifa so much as touches that damn necklace again I will cut it off his neck, and I'm sure Arakiel will help, so if you want to find your girlfriend before something fucking happens to her you better tell you -friend- to behave or leave. Now, if you have an idea of where to go... let’s go."

Beta took in a deep breath and let out a long exhale. "I was trying to..." He frowned at Aasifa and pointed at the necklace. "No more chaos magic!" Aasifa looked like he might argue but Beta glared, and he stopped. "For all you know that thing might have called a hundred sandworms to raid the burn and it would've put her in more danger! So, no more til she's safe!" Beta looked properly angry and despite his inability to curse properly, seemed to convey the same feelings. He then turned to Arakiel. "And don't act like he's all innocent. Stop acting like you are gonna gut me 'cause I didn't know Ikara was out here! Cause I didn't and now I'm gonna find her! Aasifa could easily have seen you as a threat to his friend." Ara narrowed his eyes at the boy but simply turned his chin some and sneered. Finally, he turned to Aeritria. "He goes for the necklace again... stab him... ‘Cause I said not to. But you stop threatening him if he doesn't, 'kay? I've been wandering the burn for weeks now. I'm ready to be done with this place... so I just wanna find Ikara and then we can all go home." He huffed out another breath and continued. "And thank you for helping Arakiel look for her... I'm sorry this is all a mess, but I was trying to do good. So, let's... just do what you came here to do please." He continued a moment later in quieter tones. "And I don't like everyone else’s profanity. It's boring."

 Elsewhere in the Burn though the target of their search was about to have her own random encounter.

Ikara had been wandering the burn for what felt like an age. Trying to track Beta had turned into a much bigger problem than she had originally anticipated. She had made her way into Garlemald, stealing a uniform and posing as a Garlean soldier. Eventually she found the site where the popularis had their operations that Beta had been a part of. She searched every ilm of the area for any signs of Beta or which way he might have went. She eventually found Beta's tomephone, cracked and busted with charred and melted edges. She picked it up and searched the area even more, moving rubble. Eventually she resorted to carefully questioning a few citizens and was told that the rebels had flown off in the direction of the burn via magitek armor. She breathed a sigh of relief in the hope that Beta was on the airship, as she did hear from someone that no one was taken prisoner. All the rebels were killed or escaped, and she hadn't found his body yet. If he wasn't there, he might still be alive. Clutching the little scrap of a tomephone she went in the direction that the few citizens had pointed her in. She eventually found the wreckage of the armor and searched the entire thing from top to bottom. There was still no sign of Beta, but she found some disturbances in the sand and hoped they were the remnants of footprints. She followed them until they disappeared, eaten by the shifting sands. Then she kept looking. She wasn't sure how long she had been searching, but she knew she was lost, and she didn't care. If she was lost, it meant Beta probably was too, and they would eventually find each other.

A few malms away, Lloire had left the simulacrum of Cartenaeu that his mind had created as a battleground for himself and his reflections. Now he wandered the desert sands of the Burn once more, sorting his thoughts. He had no clue how to go about finding the people he needed to find or what order to find them in. Even as that were, were there enough people he worried for to face all the various aspects of his soul?

Some had been quoted as saying that the universe around them had come about in the beginning due to a massive explosion of aether, the same catalyst woke him from his indecisiveness. He hit the sand as an enormous shockwave of aether flew past him, stealing his feet from him.

"The fuck was that?"

As his senses returned to him, Lloire closed his eyes and focused not on where the explosion had been, but on any source powerful enough to have caused it. There was a massive pool of energy to the east of him that was far bleeding aether into the air. It was more than reasonable to assume that who or whatever it was, they were responsible for the massive explosion he'd felt. His fights would have to wait, leaving anything that powerful this close to Doma's borders would be irresponsible. Gathering his feet under him, he took off at a run towards the source of aether.

Ikara had been wandering in the Burn long enough that she felt like she was going blind. The land being so drained of aether meant she saw the world as everyone else did. She felt sorry for them, all the color was gone from this part of the world. She had found a small outcropping of what she originally thought were rocks but had eventually realized was the skull of a very large beast that had once dwelled there, and hidden away for a bit to get some rest and get out of the sun.

Then the world exploded in color far away. She felt it before she ran out and saw it. Her eyes watered from all the colors and she started searching the horizon for any signs of something that would explain it. Clutching the tomephone she started in the direction of the explosion, hoping that maybe if Beta was out there, he would investigate too.

Lloire travelled swiftly across the sand as he rushed towards the source of aether drawing at his senses. Eventually he climbed over an outcropping of rock and saw a figure in the distance. They didn't seem to have noticed him yet but were moving closer to him. If he held his position, he could wait until they were close enough to engage before revealing himself. He moved back behind one of the jutted-out stones and waited.

As Ikara made her way towards the explosion another source of aether caught her eye in the distance and closing in on her position. The aether was wrong, fractured, broken, and extremely potent.

The tomephone she clutched in her hand was tucked into her pocket and replaced by her staff. She had been conserving her aether the whole time she was out here, to the point where it was overflowing. Her necklace had been filled to the brim, but she had waited and not wasted it in case of running into a Garlean contingent or some beast.

She held her staff to her side, loosely and in a nonthreatening manner, but she was ready for whatever was on the other side of the ridge. When she got close enough, she yelled to whoever was there, "I can see you! Come out before I decide that I'll cast first and ask questions later. This is your only warning!"

Her voice was unmistakable. Lloire came out from behind the rocks with a curious expression worn on his face. "Ikara? What are yo--" He wasn't able to finish his question though as the sounds of the winds and shifting sands in the area were pierced with the sound of shattering glass. Ikara, who had the unique advantage of always seeing aether would see a fragment of Lloire's aether break away from the rest.

As for Lloire himself, he collapsed in a heap in front of her while the image of a younger Lloire remained where he had been standing. The Lloire-image began to solidify before finally seeming as alive, even to her vision, as Lloire had moments ago. "I should've known we'd run into you first and I'd be the first to fight..." He sighed. "You remind him... us... of Aliya sometimes." A staff materialized in his hands and a blackmage soul stone pulsed with aether beneath his robes. "I'm called Kid... And so that your older brother can live, I have to fight you with all my might... and you gotta kill me."

As he spoke, the similarities between who Lloire used to be and who Beta was seemed all the more pronounced. "Show him... us... what you're made of. That you won't be another Aliya, okay?"

Ikara was equal parts confused and relieved when Lloire stepped out from behind the rocks. "Nii---..." She watched his aether shard and split then him collapse to the ground and started running for him, without thought to her own safety. That was until a shard split off and started to solidify. Ikara skid to a halt, her staff still out at her side as a younger version of Lloire appeared before her.

"Halone's frosty tits... what the hells?" She eyed the fragment for a moment before flipping down a visor to see if he was still there without her aether sight. Her frown deepened as she tried to piece together what she saw with the visor down, verses what she was seeing with it up, "Oh.... what have you done to yourself big brother..?" His aether had somehow split off and manifested. The younger version of him was real in a sense, but only in so much as the creations she made from aether. It would disappear with time, but not until the wielder or spell was completed or removed.

Mention of Aliya had her frown deepening, "I'll take that as a compliment. Aliya was your best friend." She shook her head at the aether spirit. "I won't fight you. It could hurt the whole of him. He is completely fractured. Let me fix it instead." She wasn't holding her staff weakly at her side anymore though, it was ready in case the splinter decided to attack.

For his part, Kid-Lloire didn't seem to be in a rush to attack her. "It was a compliment. Look, you haven't seen us for a while. The Lloire you know. Nii-san I think? Anyways, he's prolly more messed up now then when he stabbed himself in the chest. He just fought each and every splinter of himself and killed each one. Well, except me and Erioll...." He shook his head energetically. "But that's off subject. The point is... He's finally realized what's got him so screwed up. He's scared that the people he cares for are gonna die. Usually ‘cause of him. There's a lot to unpack, but the basic gist is he needs his friends to prove they can handle their own against him when he's not in control. He's scared of his black magic... or his anger issues... or being you know... Hyur. But the truth is he's only really dangerous when he's whole... and then, only to his enemies. But we gotta prove it to him... us... so, you have to kill me. I'd rather you went into this with full knowledge and not making me force the issue." He huffed a breath, having spoken more than Lloire usually would. "So, what do you say?" The younger Lloire lazily lifted his staff and nodded to Ikara. "I mean, if nothing else... you kinda need to blow some aether." A small almost shy smile was half hidden behind his staff.

Ikara listened and it was clear she was starting to nurse a headache from how dumb it all sounded. Then again, she really wasn't too much different than her brother. She had run off plenty of times without people to protect them. She wasn't sure she trusted any of them to take care of themselves. It was why she was in this gods forsaken desert in the first place.

"Let me examine him, to ascertain that you are telling the truth, though I doubt you are lying. I have to be sure it won't kill him. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I killed him without checking first. Let me do that, and sure... I'll kick your ass." She smirked at him, "I mean, Nii-san is tough, and he taught me a lot, but it’s been a while, and the collective you haven't seen what I'm capable of anymore. Just you know.... do me a favor and let me check him first and I'm down. Also... beforehand... Did you cause that other explosion? Cause really, I can't spend a ton of time here if you didn't. I've god a cute moronic Miqo to save."

The younger manifestation lowered the staff and stepped aside to allow Ikara past to check on Lloire's unconscious form. "Too true, but don't forget... Lloire's been out to war just as long as you presumably have. Don't take this too lightly please." True to his word he would stand still and let her examine Lloire. "Also, no. We thought it was you. You've the largest pool of aether out here beyond our own. The other sources of aether out here are weaker... except one particularly bright spot further south..." His head tilted as he considered -who- she was likely speaking about. "Though, large sources of aether wouldn't help you find Beta but large explosions might. Guess that would make sense. We didn't know he was out here though." He shrugged. "Well, like I said, I can't hold back or we'll know... so I'll try and make it as fast as I can... but no promises."

Ikara was wise enough not to completely let her guard down but moved over to examine Lloire's unconscious form. She examined him as well as she could, even checking to see if he would wake with prodding. He didn't, and she obviously was looking at something with concern, 'These threads of aether tying you to him. If I hurt you, I'm hurting him. To be fair, you are only a portion of his aether, but you are an important part of his being. You won't be destroyed right?" She considered what he said about the spot further south and frowned. "If there was an explosion, I doubt that Beta caused it. He wouldn't give his position away like that... especially when there are Garleans after him... so I'm sorry but I won't be holding back either."

She jumped back and her staff spun in the air as aether pulled not from the land, or from her, but from a single crystal in her necklace. The necklace drained in but a few breaths as she unleashed one of the most powerful spells she had on the fragment of Lloire. She didn't have time to play. Those could have been Garleans killing her boyfriend and she loved her brother, but damn if she was going to let her boyfriend die cause her brother was being stupid. The magic flared bright and large with destruction so that it could be seen for several malms.

When the smoke cleared, Kid was standing in a charred crater, his staff held up as though he were blocking with it and the aether of his mana wall shimmered as the spell dissipated from absorbing the attack. Nevertheless, Flare was an impressive spell and she could see some singed edges around his clothing and armor. Another side of Lloire might have spoken here. Warned her or threatened her, but Kid understood her and knew she was only doing what she needed to in order to protect her loved ones. Instead he returned the attack. He vanished and reappeared nearly on top of her. It was completely against everything one was taught as a thaumaturge and would have been insane if he was fighting a sword wielder. With her so close, she could see the lightning flash in his eyes as his aether swelled. The first strike was a blast of lightning aether that dropped down from the sky towards her. The second was a blast of weak fire that seemed almost pointless in its intensity. Finally, he wrapped up the triple casting of spells with a much more potent fire spell as his entire aura seemed to pulse with heat. The spells complete he took a step back from her to examine their effectiveness.

Ikara honestly would have been disappointed if the first spell had done all the work. It would work for piddly little Garlean soldiers, but this was a part of her brother, and she expected more from him. There was a small smile at the fact that he had gotten his manawall up fast enough. Then again, the spell took plenty of time to cast and gave him amply time to prepare.

When he teleported right in front of her, she laughed. "You should have been a redmage, kid. Its more fun, but to be fair less destructive." to illustrate her point she stepped out of the way of the lightning blast and wacked at his nose with her staff, holding it like a rapier. Which, to be fair, wasn't nearly as quick to maneuver, but was much harder to dodge due to the size of her staff and his proximity. Soul stone or no, she had learned how to leap and fly as a red mage and those things were all body, not magic. She couldn't wield those same spells, but a quick backflip and she was out of the way of the weak fire spell, only to land at the point where he struck with the larger fire spell. It singed her hair and clothes before she managed to get up her own manawall and protect herself from the subsequent blasts.

Already she was working to cast again, though there wasn't a huge explosion this time. Instead she targeted his mind, addling his sense to weaken his spells, then attempted to put the shard to sleep.

The back to back spells struck and Kid felt his mind cloud with the enfeeblements along with the ringing in his head from the staff hit. Still, he seemed immune to sleep spells. It did allow fog his thoughts enough that he responded to her banter rather than continue incessant spellcasting. "Wasn't readily taught when I was around... I'm sure Azure can show you what Lloire's learned though." Wiping idly at his nose to ensure there was no bleeding, he only managed to fire of a scathing blast of energy from his staff as he moved away from her and she saw his aether pool into the ground as leylines became visible beneath him.

Far in the distance of the Burn the group of misfits that were wandering and looking for Ikara could see the mushroom cloud from her first flare, and the subsequent explosions of lightning, fire, and magic lighting the horizon. Aeri immediately turned to Aasifa with an accusatory look, "You do that too?" She was guessing whoever was blowing up the horizon was likely pissing off the little lizard though.

True to Aeri's thoughts, Ikara was getting annoyed. She had hoped to put Kid to sleep long enough to check and make sure her brother wasn't actually being hurt by the fight. "What? I have fight all of you? I ain't got time for that shit. You're wasting enough time as is."

She tried to examine Lloire from a distance to make sure he was still okay, and that moment of distraction gave Kid the opening that he needed to hit her with a blast of energy and make her shake her head to get her vision back. Fighting mages was a lot harder as everything was so damn bright.

Aetheric symbols swirled around her as she started to vent her frustration on the shard of her brother, "Will..." A giant glacier was dropped on him, "You..." Another one, "Just..." Another one... "Piss off!" Aether flared around her in crystalline light and she tapped another crystal in her necklace, though this one didn't drain all the way, instead only draining two thirds of the way as she dropped another huge flare of magic on Kid, then tapped the rest of that crystal and cast a second flare. The power off the flurry of spells back to back was enough to send a shockwave out in all directions.

Kid attempted to ward off the spells but was only able to block off the first set. Those crystals she wore were going to be his undoing if he didn't deprive her of them sooner rather than later. Still, his own pools of aether were rather large and he wasn't exhausting them on flares. Still, the second one she'd unleashed in a row was more than his wards could handle and the explosion blackened his staff arm, leaving it near useless. Still, he wasn't one of Lloire's sides that reacted to anger as easily, not even in the significant pain he was in now. "I... told you... Not going to make this... easy on you!"

He stood up with flames flickering out around him on the ground and took the staff into his other hand. "Enough of this..." Runes began to glow around him as he activated Enochian. "The highest tier of fire magicks he knew was unleashed where she stood, the leylines fed him aether faster and another was cast at her to follow it. "This ends now!" One more swift cast and he'd have the power built up he needed to unleash his largest spell. Another fourth-tier fireball exploded where Ikara was standing and even the group further out could feel the swelling of aether at the battleground.

Hundreds of yalms away Aasifa shot a look around him at the others, looking hurt that he'd been accused. "What? Cannot... be Aasifa, he... is needing to say ...word. Aasifa... has been... quiet. That is a war zone, ...yes?" He croaked out before he grinned widely. "Let's go... and see!" Arakiel frowned and growled but started off towards the explosions before anyone else.

Aeri glanced between Arakiel and Beta both before speeding up the pace the group had set. Which, in all honestly didn't take much as the others were in just as much of a hurry. "I get Ikara can blow shit up... but ... thats a lot of firepower." She shook her head and they all moved as quickly as they reasonably could towards the battle. Aeri had her misgivings about it, as she wasn't really feeling like being blown up in this gods forsaken place, but she had given Ara her word, and she wasn't about to go back on it now.

 Ikara got some satisfaction from Kid's blackened arm. Even thought she had said she was going to put her all into this fight, she was still doing her best to only tap the aether in her necklace as she didn't know what she would find where Beta was. "Oh for Halone's sake... you think this is easy for me? The hardest part of this is not turning the hell around and leaving you to sulk in the fact that I won't fight you. You have the WORST timing ever... I've got places to be! I'm supposed to be saving my boyfriend, not my brother. For fucks sake... worst older brother..."

Fire exploded all around her, but before he could get off all his spells she was moving. This time it was her turn to teleport to him. One moment she was where his spells were aimed, and the next she was standing on top of him and wrapping her arms around him in a bear hug, then smashing her forehead into his nose to interrupt his casting. The first fire spell missed her, the second engulfed both of them, and she aimed her knee for his family jewels when he tried to cast the last spell, aiming to knock him to the ground and just punch him in the face. The whole time she was aiming physical spells at him she was building up her own aether to counter with her own spells.

Kid didn't have a chance to respond right away, her brow had found his nose and it gave a loud crack and blood spewed from the quickly bruising part of his face. "Little brother right now!" He shouted back at her. "You're older than I was!" His aether appeared to stop wavering at all and grew very sure and still as he began reciting the last spell, his eyes locking on her with intense focus. "This ends sis!" The spell was likely one she'd not seen him cast before. It was one that Lloire had learned only recently on the frontlines. His most powerful spell was building over both their heads and it was clear that he meant to put his everything into it, even if it meant a draw and a draw meant they both lost.

Ikara was splattered with warm blood that spewed from Kid's nose, and his words hit a chord with her. It was one of those things she always forgot. She wasn't a kid anymore. She was an adult now. She mostly never felt like one, but she was. She had been through more than most kids ever went through and come across the other side. She had lived to see adulthood. The train of thought was disrupted by the pure aether building as Kid started a spell that she didn't know. She knew if he got the spell off that would be devastating for her, and for Lloire. She had to win, or Lloire would stay broken.

She wiped the blood from her face, and her vision focused on it for a moment making her realize that while it felt real, it still wasn't real. It was all aether, and one thing she was good at was controlling aether. "You're right! I am older than you. I'm an adult, and I don't need Lloire to take care of me. We take care of each other because that is what family does, but I made it this far... and I'll be fine!"

The last five crystals in her necklace started to drain as she pulled the specific types of aether from them. Earth, Air, Fire, Ice, and Lightning... the catalysts that made everything in the world. "I won't destroy you. You're a part of my brother... but I don't have to destroy you to beat you!" She started disrupting the flow of aether in Kid, pulling the elements apart, as she had done so many times with her 'paintings'. Normally she had more time, but right his moment she didn't. She poured all the aether from her necklace into rearranging the aether in this fragment of her big brother. She worked desperately fast, trying to reform him into something else. At the last moment she poured her own aether into building the strongest manawall she could and prayed to Halone to make this work. "I can take care of myself, and you're an egotistical jerk for thinking I can't manage without you!"

 The last words were spoken as his spell went off, and the aether that he was created from shifted into the form she thought of when she thought of their lessons when she was still learning how to cast the simplest spells.

Kid seemed to know that he'd lost in that moment. Despite the spell above them and his own aether breaking down, he smiled. "Good. Remember that... And learn the lesson it took us this long to start to learn..."

Ikara grit her teeth and forced the last strands of aether into place where she wanted them, just as the spell overhead exploded. It could be seen for malms and malms around.

[agent-shield-blog]

A Light of Hope

Pairing: Reader X Tony Request: I was wondering if it would be okay if I request an imagine of Tony x Reader, where it's post infinity war and Tony finally comes home and the reader  Warnings: A little angsty and some language Notes: Sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy it!

72 days. 72 days since I had seen Tony Stark. Since we said our goodbyes before his com cut out into space. Now here I am at the avenger's facility in upstate New York. My body has been nothing but numb for the past few months. I’ve lost almost all my friends, my family, and the love of my life. Its been months and I can’t feel a thing. The only thought that goes through my head is that maybe it would be better if I were gone instead. If I would have just turned to dust and floated into the galaxy. Nat and Steve tried their hardest, even through their pain and loss, to help me but I was so far gone I didn't know how I found the power to draw breath every day.

It was a cloudy Thursday, but then again I could have sworn that the sun hadn't appeared since that day. Everyone was in Bruce's lab, and we were all going over the data once again. Going over our numbers of how many people we had lost. Looking at the friends that had either died or possibly gone missing. In my head anyone missing was dead, to think they were alive was just wishful thinking. I watched as Peters' face came up, then Shuri, followed by Scott.

It was just a constant reminder of what we had lost. The others kept throwing out ideas of what to do and how to do it. I listened to their opinions but knew all of them were long-shots. I glanced over my shoulder to the other end of the room where Rocket was sitting. He hadn't talked to anyone since the day we lost everyone. He would just sit in front of the transmitter Bruce had set up to try and get into contact with anyone out in the galaxy. Whether it was rockets friends, or possibly Tony. We were all waiting for the day that the transmitter would go off.

Feeling sorry for Rocket, I left the conversation that was as always growing tension from arguments, and took a seat next to him. I didn't say anything but simply stared at the machine. I didn't know exactly how it worked, but from what Bruce had told us, once it starts blinking or making some sort of sound, it means that we picked something up.

Rocket and I sat there for about two hours as the others came and went from the lab. A few were trying to figure out some pager that Fury was fumbling with before he got turned to dust. Nat was trying to locate Clint, who we hadn't heard from. She checked his home and found four piles of dust inside. Meaning someone was either outside at the time, or someone had survived.

As we stared at the machine, Rocket finally had spoken for the first time since that terrible day.

“I always wondered why I avoided friends.” I turned to look at him. His face was tired and sad, as most everyone's was. “I always thought it was because life would be easier on my own. Taking care of my own business, not having to deal with other peoples shit all over my ship. But now, I think it was because I was afraid to lose people I cared about. And now that I've experienced all the thing you do in friendship, I still wouldn't give up the memories we had together to trade away the pain.” I grinned to myself, probably the first time I had in weeks, and gave Rocket a small comforting pat on the back. And surprisingly enough he didn't cringe or turn away. Before the moment was over Steve came back into the room to grab something he had forgotten.

“(y/n), Rocket? Do you guys want anything to eat? Rhodey is making some sandwiches, and I could bring you guys something?”

“I’m fine Steve.”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm absolutely positively fucking sure.” Steve sighed as he turned his back and walked back out the door. Rocket looked at me with a look of questioning on his face.

“A few years ago, our governments were trying to sign an accord that our group only be called in when needed. Steve hated the idea but Tony and I saw that if we signed, we could get the laws writing to change, and in true times of peril, such as when Thanos sent a spaceship down here, we would intervene without orders. The group was divided for a long time, and it felt like I lost part of my family ever since that day. I betrayed Tony at one point, and it almost tore us apart. Life for me that year wasn't easy.”

“So you hate Steve?”

“I just wonder if all of this could have been avoided if we were all still on one team. If Steve could have just signed, maybe things wouldn't be the way they are.” Rocket nodded in agreement before turning his view back to the transmitter, and me the same.

Another hour had passed in silence. I got up from the chair and did some stretching as my limbs were becoming sore from sitting all day. One thing I always bugged Tony about was that he had all this money yet couldn't afford to find stylish yet comfortable seating. He’d always have some excellent one-liner ready to go in response. As I bent to the floor, I saw a red flash between my legs. I shot up as Rocket scrambled out of his seat and onto the table with the transmitter.

“Rocket did it just flash? You saw that right?”

“Yeah, I did.” We both looked at each other and back to the machine. Once again a bright red flash lit up the room. I fumbled for my phone in my back-pocket before dialing Bruces number.

“Bruce, the transmitter it keeps flashing red what does that mean?”

“Stay there and don't touch anything!” Bruce told me sternly before hanging up the phone. Within thirty seconds Bruce came running into the lab to where Rocket and I were. Bruce lightly moved me to the side while he fumbled with some switches. I quickly texted Rhodey, Thor, Nat and Steve to get in here ASAP. I put my phone back in the pocket and waited for Bruce to get the transmitter in, and after turning one last dial, we heard a voice fill the empty room.

“Is this thing on? Hey miss (y/l/n). If you find this recording, don't feel bad about this. Part of the journey is the end. Being adrift in space with zero promise of rescue is more fun than it sounds. Food and water ran out four days ago. Oxygen will run out tomorrow morning, and that will be it. When I drift off, I will dream about you. It’s always you.” And with that, the message ended. I turned around with tears in my eyes to see everyone else standing in the doorway. Everyone looked just about as heartbroken as I was. But before I could let my legs fall to the ground in agony, an alarm started going off in the tower. We pulled out our phones and saw an alert from FRIDAY with notice of objects overhead off the facility. Nat snapped out of her emotions first and ran towards the nearest door with a tactical belt near hand. Steve and Thor were next. Followed by Bruce, and Rhodey was last to follow. Rocket made his way towards me and patted my leg. Trying to console me just as I had done with him before. In my mind, there was a glimpsing light of hope slowly fading. Tony was the smartest person I had ever met. If he were stuck in space, he’d find a way out. If he could cheat death more than once, he could do it again. I looked down at Rockets before making my way out to grab my gear and to head outside. If any enemy was trying to cross paths with me tonight, they should know things for them will end poorly in the state of fury I'm in.

I joined the others who were gathering off near some of the acreage we had. I looked up as I jogged over to them, and a small, but bright orange dot was trailing overhead.

“What is it?” Nat questioned Bruce as he attempted to point some equipment at it but was getting no reading back on it.

“I have no clue whatever it is, it's not from around here, and we've never had it in our system before.” We waited with as much patience as we could as the ship made its descent into the field in front of us. Rocket made his way forward through the group taking a piece of Bruce's equipment.

“I’ve seen this kind of ship before, definitely from a galaxy much further than here.”  Finally, the ship landed in front of us, slowly settling itself into the ground. The engine turned off causing all lights to go dark. Everyone had hands on weapons ready to go waiting for the doors to open. Finally, a platform slowly began to descend. I took in the spaceship trying to get any readings. I looked through the windows trying to see if I could make out anything. My eyes grazed over one object in particular. It almost seemed like, it couldn't be… Tonys’ helmet.

A figure weakly made its way out onto the platform almost stumbling along. Within a second I knew. I rushed through the others, and past by Steve who was leading the group forward. He grabbed my wrist and tried to hold me back. Having enough pent up anger from the battle at the airport I had no problem punching Steve in the stomach to make my way to the ship. The smell of hot earth filled my lungs as a continued to run to the figure in front of me. I made it halfway up the platform,  before greeting the figure and crashing into an embrace. With all the energy he could muster, Tony wrapped his arms around me. I began to sob uncontrollably as part of the hell I was living just became bearable. Tony ran his fingers through the back of my hair trying to calm me down.

“Thank God you’re alive. It’s okay (y/n), it's okay. I’m here now.” I drew back just a little to take in his face. There were new scars abundant on his face, alongside his tired eyes, and his more prominent check bones from lack of nutrients.

“I thought I lost you forever Tony.”

“You can't get rid of me that easily.” I choked up a laugh through the intermittent sobs. I finally broke the embrace and helped Tony down the rest of the platform. At this point all the others where they're at the bottom to welcome Tony back and help in any way they could. When it finally came to Steve, Tony looked at him sternly before bringing him in for a hug. “I never thought I’d say this capsicle, but I missed you, I still don't forgive you, but I missed you.”

Once all reunited and introduced to Nebula we made our way back inside. I had helped Tony get a shower, and insisted he get some rest, but he told me that he was fine and needed to talk to the others. We all made our way to the living room near the labs for a chat. Tony sat down, wincing a little in pain from the scar that was still trying to heal from his battle against Thanos. I covered Tony with a blanket before giving him some more water as his body needed to readjust to food and liquids. I finally took my spot next to him on the couch, and we all waited a moment before Tony finally spoke.

“Peter and Dr. Strange are gone. Star-lord and the rest of his crew are all gone too.” I brought my head up to look through the window into Bruce's lab, towards Rocket who was back to his position of waiting at the transmitter. I’d have to go tell him after this.

“We tried. We tried so hard, but it wasn't enough. We almost had it but one wrong move and it was all over.” Tony still staring straight at the ground, grabbed for my hand which I took and gave it a squeeze, not dare letting go.

“And now we’re here. With half of the population of the universe decimated, Thanos still on the loose somewhere, and a broken group of Avengers. Who would have thought that one stone so many years ago would lead to this.” I gave Tony's hand another gentle squeeze and scooched closer to him. No one said a thing, absorbing the rest of the information in. Tony took a sip of water before continuing.

“Strange looked at all the outcomes, and he said there was only one in the millions that he saw, where we win, where we come out on top. The bastards gone now, so I don’t know how to do it, but there's a way. And since we couldn't protect the earth this time, you should all be pretty damn sure that we are going to avenge it.”

We all talked for a little bit before deciding it was best for Tony to get some sleep. Everyone slowly exited out while Tony and I sat there. Tony laid down on the couch and placed his head on my lap. We both stared at each other for a while, taking in a sight we both longed for the past few months. I slowly brushed my fingers through his hair. I rarely got to see his hair in a state where it wasn't perfectly blowdried and gelled. We sat like this for about thirty minutes before I gave up on trying to get Tony to fall asleep like this.

“I’m going to go get you some applesauce to eat before you go to bed.”

“I don’t want to go to bed, I just want to look at you some more.”

“Eat the applesauce, and then we can head off to bed together, and you can drift off to sleep to dream about me, while I'm right there next to you.” Tony brought up his hand and brushed my cheek softly, holding it there for a moment while taking in my face one last time before allowing me to get up.

As I made my way back from the kitchen with a bowl of applesauce and a spoon in hand I turned the corner to the door of Bruce's lab, knowing there was something else that needed to be done first. But as I took a step inside, I noticed Nebula and Rocket sitting at the transmitter together. Nebula was talking in hushed tones, but I knew what she was saying. I slowly backed out of the room and made my way back to Tony who was now sitting up, with the blanket on top of his head, but his face still showing. I placed the bowl and spoon in his hand and waited patiently for him to finish. Once done I sat the bowl on the table knowing I could take care of it in the morning, although Tony in the good old days used to have a fit anytime I left dirty dishes out overnight.

Once in our room, I grabbed Tony some pajamas and let him change while I washed my face and brushed my teeth. Once done I exited the bathroom and saw Tony in bed, his eyes following every move I made. I changed into some more comfortable clothes and climbed into bed with him. I sat my head down on my pillow and turned so my face was turned to his. I studied his brown eyes, taking in the moment that I had so longed for 72 days ago.

“I love you (y/n) (y/l/n). I don't think I’ll let a day go by where you don't hear those words.”

“I love you too Tony Stark. Get some rest, I’ll be right here. Always.”

I made sure to let Tony fall asleep first, and once he finally did, I turned over and shut off the light before turning back around to face him. I took in his face one last time before closing my eyes and allowing my mind to shut off for the night. For once in these 72 days I had hope that things might turn out okay.

[rose-of-pollux]

Inktober for Writers, Day 30

Prompt: Catch Fandom: Perfect Strangers Title: One and Only Summary: [Post-series] In which the woes of a passenger help Jennifer realize how lucky she is.

Notes: this vignette takes place post-series.  One of the things I adore about the series is how Larry and Balki never even so much as glance at other women after they go steady with, and eventually marry, Jennifer and Mary Anne, and this vignette happened as a result.

Cross-posted to AO3 & FFN.

As head of the cabin crew, Jennifer had been coordinating the details of the meal and beverage services on the flight heading from Portland to Chicago. Things had been running surprisingly smoothly—until it stopped going smoothly.

“Jennifer?” Mary Anne asked, peeking her head in to the attendants’ private area, where Jennifer was going over their food inventory.  “We’ve got ourselves a situation up in 15 A.”

“Oh, no; what now?” Jennifer asked.

“They’re demanding I serve more alcohol, but I think they’ve had enough already, given the circumstances!  I told them that, and they said they wanted to see my manager—that’s you.”

Jennifer sighed; heading to row 15 with Mary Anne—and stopped as she saw that the passenger in 15 A was a woman.  The woman was clearly a little tipsy, and what concerned Jennifer was the one-year-old girl sitting on her lap, clearly upset that she wasn’t getting her mother’s attentions.

“How many…?” Jennifer silently mouthed.

Mary Anne held up three fingers in response.

Jennifer responded with a nod to assure her that she’d made the right call, and then addressed the woman.

“I’m the head of the flight crew; I understand that you wanted to see me?”

“Yes!” the woman exclaimed.  “It says here on the menu that you serve alcoholic drinks for $5 each, but she won’t take any more of my money!”  She glared pointedly at Mary Anne.

“Well, we reserve the right to withhold the service of alcohol if we think it’s necessary,” Jennifer explained.  “And I have to agree with my colleague; I think you’ve had enough.”

She had expected the woman to get even more belligerent, but, to their surprise, she suddenly burst into tears.  Jennifer and Mary Anne exchanged baffled glances, and Mary Anne shyly offered a packet of tissues to the woman.  After a moment, the woman accepted them.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.  “I know I probably shouldn’t be drinking, but I just…  I just want to forget everything!”

“It’s okay,” Jennifer said.  “You’re clearly having a very bad day—”

“The worst!” she wailed.  “My husband left me for another woman!  Threw us both out of the house—me, and his own child!  …Not that he ever put the slightest effort into raising her, of course…” She sobbed.  “My sister lives in Chicago; she’s taking me in, but…”  She shook her head.

Jennifer had gone slightly pale, but she was still trying to put on a comforting expression, as was Mary Anne.  But Jennifer had a deep-seeded fear of abandonment, born from years of disastrous dating, coupled with being teased for not being able to maintain a relationship. And even after she had found true love with Larry, every so often, that fear reared its ugly head and tore at her from the inside-out, even if she knew she had no reason to fear it.

Mary Anne stepped up now, sensing that Jennifer’s mind was going there again.

“I really hope things get better for you,” she said, sincerely.  “And that you’ll find someone else to spend your life with.”

“No! I’m not looking for that anymore!” the woman insisted.  “You can’t trust men!  They’re all the same—out for a conquest!  And when they’re bored, they’ll move on to the next one!”

Jennifer let out a quiet sigh, trying to suppress her own anxieties.

“Take it from me,” she said.  “Chicago is a great place to start over.”

The woman didn’t seem convinced, but she did seem calmer now, once again attending to her child.  They had to attend to other passengers, but both Jennifer and Mary Anne made frequent checks on her and her daughter for the remainder of the flight to make sure they were both alright.  And once the flight had landed in Chicago, Mary Anne insisted on staying with her until her sister arrived to pick her up; Jennifer stayed, too, and after they had seen her off, they headed for the parking lot, where they had kept Larry’s blue LTD—the eventual replacement for the Mustang he had sold years ago for his sister’s Julliard tuition.  Though it lacked the sentimental value of the Mustang, Larry was still almost as persnickety about the LTD as he had been for the Mustang, and after that incident with Jennifer denting the Mustang’s door years ago, she most certainly had asked to borrow the LTD this time, and, without hesitation, he’d handed over the keys.

He loved her.  And she knew he loved her.  It was foolish to think that Larry would leave her for any reason, let alone the ludicrous idea that he’d stray for another woman.

Even as she sat in the driver’s seat, all around her, there was evidence of his devotion—the car cover she’d knitted for him was folded on the back seat beside Tucker’s car seat, and stuck on the sun visor clip was a picture of her holding Tucker shortly after his birth, after they’d been rescued from that runaway hot-air-balloon and brought back to terra firma; given the situation they’d been in, Tucker had been swaddled in Larry’s jacket—it was a rather ridiculous sight, with Tucker in the jacket and Jennifer looking, in her opinion, like a mess, but Larry never failed to get emotional just thinking about that moment.

“What are you thinking about?” Mary Anne asked from the passenger seat, though she seemed to know the answer already.

“That Larry is quite a catch,” she said.  She looked over at her best friend and smiled.  “You’ve got quite a catch with Balki, too.”

“I sure do,” she agreed, with a smile.

“You know, I still can’t believe it,” Jennifer sighed.  “I’d just come off a bad relationship and was convinced that I was done with dating.  I take a side job at a health club, selling memberships, I walk into a discount store trying to get the signature of the Mediterranean guy who was so eager that he forgot to sign his form, and then I meet his cousin—my future husband.  Who knew?”

“I kinda did—when I saw you trying not to laugh when you saw him falling off of the bench press machine the next day.  …I don’t think any of your previous boyfriends ever made you smile like that.” Mary Anne smiled.  “And it was lucky for both of us that you went into the discount store that day—you met your future husband, and I met mine the next day!”

“It took us a few bumps in the road along the way, but the four of us got there eventually,” Jennifer agreed.  She sobered slightly.  “I don’t ever want it to end.”

“It won’t—for a long, long, long time,” Mary Anne assured her.

“…I’ll take it,” Jennifer admitted.  With a sigh, she started the car.  “Let’s go home.”

“Can’t wait.”

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

The lights in the house were warm and inviting as they pulled into the driveway. Gathering their things, they entered through the back door through the kitchen.  Balki was tending to some things on the stove as Robespierre sat nearby in a high chair, coloring with some crayons.

“Oh, hi, Mary Anne!  Cousin Jennifer!”

“Hi, Balki,” Jennifer smiled, as Mary Anne kissed him in greeting.  “How’s it going?”

“Oh, terrific,” Balki grinned.  “Robespierre is getting good at the whole walking thing; I think I’m going to start teaching him Boochi Tag one of these days.”  He turned to his son and tickled him on the chin.  “Yeah, you want to play Boochi Tag, don’ you?”  He trailed off into Myposian, and Robespierre giggled at him in response.

Mary Anne picked Robespierre up from the high chair and hugged him.

“Where are Larry and Tucker?” Jennifer asked.

“In the living room; Cousin Larry’s been trying to tempt little Tucker into walking, too…”  Balki gave an apologetic shrug.  “I think Cousin Larry might be a bit concerned that Robespierre has been walking for two weeks already, but Tucker hasn’t…”

The words were barely out of his mouth when, suddenly, they heard Larry exclaim from the living room—

“Yes!  YES!”

“Oh, no; I missed it!?” Jennifer exclaimed, running to the living room, followed by Balki, Mary Anne, and Robespierre.

Larry was just picking up Tucker in a triumphant hug when they walked in; Larry noticed them and gave them a huge grin.

“Mary Anne!  Jen! Welcome home!”  He kept one arm holding Tucker and drew his free arm around Jennifer, giving her an excited hug.  “Jen, guess what happened!  No, wait, don’t guess—let’s see if we can get an encore!”  He placed Tucker gently back on the ground.  “Okay, Tucker—once more, for Mommy…”

Tucker looked back at him with an amused expression, as though wondering what all the excitement was about.  Jennifer knelt down and extended her arms to him, gently calling his name.  Tucker turned his attention to her and, slowly, toddled towards her.  With a joyful squeal, Jennifer gathered him into a hug, and the warm feeling growing in her heart grew even more intense as Larry knelt beside the both of them, drawing them into a hug, as well.  And soon, they were joined on the floor by the three Bartokomouses.

“Cousin, this is so great!” Balki exclaimed.  “In a few weeks, they’ll be better and better at walking, and, someday, we can teach them the Dance of Joy!”

“You bet, Buddy,” Larry grinned, and he turned back to Jennifer.  “Well, Jen, you pretty much saw the highlight of our day. How was your day?”

Jennifer exchanged a glance with Mary Anne, and with just a glance, both of their thoughts turned to that unfortunate passenger, as well as to how lucky the two of them were to have such caring and loyal husbands who were heavily invested in the care of their children.  It seemed so basic, and yet… was it really that rare?

Mary Anne snuggled up to Balki, still holding Robespierre, and Jennifer leaned in further into Larry’s embrace.

“Jen…?  Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine, Larry,” she assured him.  She glanced up, gently touching the side of his face as she kissed him.  “Thank you.”

“…For what?” Larry asked, slightly confused.

“For being you.”

“That goes for you, too, Balki,” Mary Anne said, kissing him again.

The cousins exchanged slightly confused glances, but shrugged, holding their wives and children close, glad to have their families all together again.  And Jennifer and Mary Anne held them as well, grateful to be loved—and grateful that Jennifer had walked into Ritz Discount that day years ago.

[silver-wields-a-pen]

Illthdar High: An au fan fiction

Monday Morning Imogen tried not to focus on the stench of sweaty socks and body odour as she sucked face with Salem behind the gym bleachers. They had ten minutes before the first bell which meant five minutes before Coach Phanuel would walk in with his Egg Mc Muffin and coffee. She memorized the gym teacher’s morning routine as soon as she realized they needed a place to meet up in secret. If anyone in the school knew she was making out with the loser who thought he was a vampire, it would ruin her reputation.  She still wasn’t entirely sure why she had let this go on as long as she had. All she knew was that she and Salem ended up alone at some party a few weeks ago and kissed. Since then, she’d made up a lot of excuses to sneak away and meet him for another make-out session. He was a surprisingly good kisser. Most guys Imogen kissed got way too eager with their tongue, making for a very sloppy and wet technique. Salem did not. And he's kinda cute… for a dork who likes to spend his time playing fantasy dress up. Imogen opened one eye to check her watch. 7:55. Already? She pulled away from Salem. “It’s almost time for class. We should go,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment by reaching into her messenger bag for some lip gloss. Sure enough, she could hear Coach Phanuel’s humming coming from down the hall. “Remember––”

He stopped her by grabbing her hand and gently placing a kiss on top. “I know, I know. I won’t tell a soul,” he finished. She pulled her hand away. “Don’t make me regret this more than I already do.” She left at a brisk walk before he could notice the blush colouring her cheeks. She hated how much she enjoyed the way her hand tingled where his lips had been.

~*~*~ “Hey man, where were you?” Rhovan asked as Salem walked up to their table in the cafeteria. He was sitting with the other members of the band, Date and Xyl, as they discussed the upcoming talent show. They had little success on agreeing on the set list. Rhovan kept arguing for more solos and Xyl had to point out that even Date had a difficult time screaming over the drums.

Date, as usual, was only half paying attention. He mumbled a quick “Hey,” before returning to scribbling lyrics on the nearest napkin. “I… had to get something from my locker,” Salem lied, taking a seat next to his friends.  “Well, you don’t have much time left before the breakfast line closes,” Xyl pointed out. “I’ve already had my meal.” He smiled wide, so they could see the red tint of his teeth as he pulled out the flask he always carried. It had taken Salem ages to find the perfect juice product to give the desired effect. Hawaiian Punch was the perfect substitute for blood.

Xyl and Rhovan both rolled their eyes. “Look, I’m just saying it doesn’t work with our image,” Xyl said to Rhovan, returning to the argument Salem interrupted. “Of course it does, man. Tell him, Date.” Date looked up at his name, blinking back confusion. “What?” “Aren’t you even listening?” Rhovan asked, running his hands through his electric blue hair. “This concerns all of us,” agreed Xyl.  Date sighed in a long-suffering manner, flicking his long dark hair out of his face and turning his black-lined eyes towards the bickering duo. They should know better than to interrupt him when he was in ‘the zone.’ How could they perform without his lyrics to inspire and direct them? Still, he knew these idiots well enough to know that they wouldn’t shut up until he paid attention to what they were saying. “Fine, I’m listening. What?” ~*~*~ Vyxen watched her brother join his friends from across the room as she finished her own breakfast. All of her meals were plastic wrapped and separated from everyone else’s. Today it was a rock-hard blueberry muffin and a clementine on the side. Her allergies to nuts and gluten made it difficult to eat out anywhere, and she always carried her epi pen just in case. “Do you want your chocolate milk?” She turned to her friend, Raemina. “No, you can have it,” she replied, distracted and having just made eye contact with Rhovan. Beside her, Nyima wrapped her sweater more tightly around her shoulders and shivered. “I wish they’d turn the heat up in here. It’s always so drafty!” Vyxen shrugged as she took the carton off Raemina’s tray, noticing Jingyi watching from the end of a table where he sat by himself, trying not to take up too much space. “I know you said he's not,” she commented to Nyima, “but he is totally checking you out.” “He's not,” Nyima insisted, glancing at Jingyi and blushing.

Raemina snorted, but didn't take her eyes off Rhovan across the room. “You can practically hear his thoughts, he's so transparent.” She wished Rhovan was like that.

“Yup,” Vyxen agreed, nodding. “He thinks you look pretty—which is given because you are—and he wants to ask you out, but he's a boy, so he's freaking.”

Nyima ducked her head and glanced at Jingyi again, trying to see what her friends did. The bell rang and Jingyi sprang up from his seat and said, “I’ve gotta go,” to no one in particular and dashed out of the cafeteria. 

Nyima's face burned with sympathetic embarrassment as he nearly tripped over the garbage can.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He looked at Nyima to see if she saw and grew flustered when he caught her looking and ran out. Raemina, finally dragging her eyes away from Rhovan’s glittering aqua eyes, just shook her head. “You know, I’m no expert on love but even I can tell that he has a thing for you. You should talk to him.” Nyima choked, pausing mid-way up from her chair to stare at Raemina with wide, terrified eyes. “I couldn’t,” she mumbled, getting up and fiddling with the contents in her plain, dark blue backpack to give her hands something to do. “I wouldn’t know what to say. You guys know I don’t do well under pressure.” “She’s right,” Vyxen agreed with Nyima, sipping her chocolate milk as she stood up and gathered her backpack. “I wouldn’t be able to just walk up and talk to a guy like that, that’d be too scary.” “Like how you can’t even function when Date is in the same space as you?” Nyima asked with a little grin, eager to push attention away from herself. Vyxen deflated. “I tried to talk to him once. He didn’t even know my name. I’ve been in the same class with him since third grade and he's been coming over to my house to hang with Salem since middle school,” she lamented sadly.

Nyima gave her a hug. “Boys are dumb.” “And anyways,” Vyxen continued as the three of them shuffled into the hallway to join the throng of students heading to class, “if it was so easy, Rae, you would have done it a long time ago.” Raemina sighed again, thinking of long blue hair. She could not think of any reason to defend herself for not approaching Rhovan other than the same anxiety the other two were feeling. “Yeah, you’re right.” ~*~*~ “We’re gonna have another late practice tonight because the JV girls can’t get their act together. Seriously, I don’t know how any of them think they’ll ever make Varsity if they can’t even get a back handspring,” Zercey complained, rolling her eyes. “Mmm,” replied Scyanatha, only half listening as her friend chatted on their way to class. “And then Friday is the talent show, so all day afternoon we’ll be preparing for that. Oh, which reminds me, one of the club leaders is sick with mono or something, so we need someone else to judge. Could you help?”

That got her attention. “Judge the talent show?” she repeated, a smirk forming on her face. “I’d love to.” Zercey snickered, knowing what her friend thought about the so-called ‘talent’ at their school. Zercey was captain of the cheer squad, and their friend Imogen was class president, which meant between them, they were always in charge of events at the school. After all, someone with taste needed to make sure the rest of those losers didn’t mess it up for everyone else. Scyanatha usually preferred to sit on the sidelines while the others ran the show. Doing the heavy lifting was not a good idea when your manicures cost as much as hers did. Imogen caught up with them halfway through the hallway. “Scy’s helping judge?” she queried having just overheard the last bit of the exchange. Zercey nodded, and she smiled. “This is gonna be fun.” They got to their door of their English class only to see Seth, Scy’s boyfriend, casually leaning against the doorframe. “See you in class,” Imogen said as she and Zercey shared a knowing look and walked in to take their seats. “Hey babe,” Seth said, grabbing Scyanatha’s waist. Without waiting for her to respond, he drew her towards him and pressed his mouth to hers. The combination of the mint from his toothpaste and the spice of his aftershave stung her nostrils in a way that always got her worked up.

She returned his kiss hungrily, knowing full well that they were drawing stares and loving every second of it. Let them look. He's all mine. When they finally drew apart, Seth kept his face close to hers. “Are your parents still out of town?” he asked huskily, still looking at her lips.

She nodded, knowing what that meant.

“Good. I’ll come over after practice.” He gave her one last kiss and then walked down the hall with his practiced swagger. “Take a picture, why don’t you,” Scy snapped to the janitor who was making a big show of not looking at the two of them; Trenfal, she thought his name was. Her hair whipped behind her as she strode into the classroom. ~*~*~ Down the hall, Rhoe glowered at the history teacher Mr. Culvers as he rambled on about some stupid, dead president. Principal Chiyoko’s sickly sweet voice hadn’t even finished ringing through the sound system for the morning announcements before he cut in, eager to get the day’s lesson started.  I can’t wait to graduate. God, I need a cigarette. Of course she had one not even ten minutes ago. Every morning before class Rhoe and her only friend and ally, Cowan, shared a smoke behind the school parking lot. They'd taken up the secret habit a year ago after he stole a pack from his house without his mom knowing. Now he was in another class with some other deadbeat teacher and she had to sit through an hour and a half of Mr. Culvers delighting in the sound of his own voice. In front of her, Rhovan beat two pencils against the desk as if it were the plastic and metals of his drum kit instead of beat up wood. Rhoe kicked the back of his seat to let him know just how she felt about his music making. He stopped the drumming, but not before shooting her a dark look from over his shoulder.  “And, since this chapter is also the last in its section, in pairs, you’ll all pick a relevant topic and create a project around it,” Mr. Culvers stated in an overly exuberant tone, either not noticing or ignoring just how lacking in excitement his students were. “The person to your left will be your partner,” he carried on talking right through the groans. “You will each pick one ancient city and complete a presentation about it by Friday.” More groans followed, and the plaid clad teacher finally took note and frowned. Ancient history was deeply fascinating and he couldn’t believe that he got landed with a class where not even one student, not even one, was interested. Time to sweeten the deal. “I will excuse the best presentation… from the mid-winter exams.” He watched as the whole class’s posture instantly changed, finally paying attention. “I will expect you to give the presentation in front of the entire class, so be sure you know what you’re talking about,” he added with a wide smile, speaking almost directly to Seth. The kid thought he was slick by having other people do his work, but he didn’t know the ‘nerds’ he hired ended up slipping in ridiculous sentences and facts throughout the work. Seth never bothered to proofread things before he turned them in, which was a big mistake on his part.

Seth narrowed his light brown eyes at his teacher and then narrowed them even further when he looked to the side to see the weird Emo kid they placed him with. He couldn’t honestly even remember this guy’s name and now he was supposed to work with him? This was utter bull. “So what do you want to do?” he asked none too nicely, only to be ignored entirely by the black-haired teen beside him. “Hey,” Seth continued, sounding more unfriendly by the second and not used to being ignored, “I’m talking to you, moron.” “What?” Date drawn out of his daydream, cast lazy grey eyes over to the irritated rich boy. “Did you need something, your highness?” he drawled, not particularly interested in this conversation and not having heard a single word the teacher or Seth said. “Were you listening to anything?” Seth exploded, drawing the eyes of the surrounding students. “Nope.” Date replied without missing a beat, his lips quirking up when Seth swore under his breath.

Things were no cheerier across the room. Since neither Rhoe nor Rhovan had anyone sitting with them, they were paired together. It thrilled neither of them.  “We can meet up later at your house to talk about the project.” Rhovan said, finally breaking the intense staring competition the two were having, opting to take the high road for the sake of his grade. “Why my house? I don’t want you in my space.” Rhoe scowled at him, wishing she had a cigarette if only so she could put it out on his forehead. “Because your brother will be there to make it easier to deal with you.” Rhovan snapped, turning back around and pressing his nose into his book to have an excuse not to talk to her anymore. He already knew this would be a nightmare. He’d rather pair up with Date, even if he knew that he’d be doing all the work if he was. That would still be preferable to the brat sitting behind him. It would be a long, miserable week. ~*~*~ The chemistry teacher, Mr. Uwe’s, eyeglasses fell down the bridge of his long, slim nose. He pushed them back up now as he addressed the class. “Pop quiz!” he announced to a lot of groans.  Nyima took a deep breath, nerves already flaring at the idea of a pop quiz. She studied, but she never liked things sprung on her at a moment’s notice. She pushed her book into the cubby hole under the table and waited for someone to pass the papers out, chancing a glance at her friends to see if they were as surprised by the sudden quiz as she was. Vyxen was two tables over from her, sitting beside a bored looking goth kid named Cowan and obsessively straightening her pens and pencils. She organized them so they were all lined up and sorted by color. She probably wouldn’t need them all for this class, but it was better to be prepared. She was one of the few students who didn’t zone out when Mr. Uwe droned on about a subject and she liked all of her notes color coded. Raemina was a seat in front of her, sitting straight-backed and with a pencil at the ready, her game face on. Nyima knew she wouldn’t have any problems, Rae was the smartest kid in their grade. Moving of their own accord, her blue eyes traveled to the scrawny, but handsome boy sitting next to her. Jingyi had his eyes on the board, picking a paper out of the pile before passing them behind him to Cowan. He didn’t look nervous and Nyima wondered if he was good at chemistry. Maybe they could study together? Like a study group! That way she could invite him to the group instead of inviting him to study with her alone that made things seem safer. His blue eyes suddenly moved across the room and landed on her and Nyima aborted the idea as her heart almost beat out of her chest. No! She tried to will the redness away from her cheeks, he would think I was stupid if I asked. Jingyi was having a similar sort of breakdown. It was risky to try and look at Nyima in this class, the potential of getting caught was too high since he shared a table with one of her friends. His eyes moved on their own though and oh gosh, he knew she’d seen him look at her. She was so pretty, it wasn’t even fair that she existed and she probably thought he was a total creep now. He cursed himself, thinking of the horrible things she must think of him and filling out his worksheet with bs answers just to look like he was busy. “Hey, can I borrow a pen.” Cowan asked Vyxen, watching as the girl paused and seemed to have some sort of mental stroke as she looked over her well-organized writing utensils, debating which one she could sacrifice because she knew by now he wouldn’t give it back. He’d been doing this all year and it was the only thing that amused him enough to carry him through the class. She was too nice to tell him no, but she was such an organization freak that the idea of parting with one of her pens and utterly ruining the color system she had going bothered her. He tried not to snicker too loud when her shoulders took on a defeated slump and she handed over a dark blue pen. “Thanks, I’ll remember to give it back,” he lied, immediately sticking the end of the pen into his mouth to chew on. He could see her twitch out of the corner of his eye. As he turned to the front of the class, he felt someone’s eyes on him. Looking around, he made eye contact with Xyl, who was watching the interaction with a smirk. Cowan gave him a nod and then turned his attention back to Mr. Uwe as the teacher handed him the quiz.

Xyl watched Cowan for another moment more under the curtain of shaggy hair that mostly obscured his face. The two men were on friendly terms. Or at least, as friendly as Cowan got with anyone besides Xyl’s sister, Rhoe. Those two hung out all the time, skipping class and sneaking cigarettes when they thought no one was paying attention. But Xyl knew, he’d been watching Cowan for a while now though it was quite a task to do so. He couldn’t envision what his sisters would say if they found out. Rhoe would accuse him of creeping on her friend and most definitely tell Cowan all about it, and Imogen would be disgusted and twitter about it to her stupid friends, and soon the entire school would know and he’d have to flee the state and change his name. But… but he could still look. Just so long as he didn’t get caught.   ~*~*~ Zercey batted her eyelids at the handsome, young English teacher, Mr. Bracken. It was all for show, of course. Zercey enjoyed getting the other girls' backs up, but that wasn’t the only reason she did it. She and Lerki hooked up several times now, but he never admitted he was actually interested in her. He was almost always flanked by other women throwing themselves at him, and even though she knew they did nothing, it still made her jealous. Two can play at that game, she decided. Lerki sauntered into the room, throwing a wink at an underclassman in the second row. She fluttered and blushed, ducking her head in embarrassment as he passed her and took his seat at the back of the class, pausing briefly to chat up a pretty blond girl on his way. His ego stroked when she stuttered out a response, face turning as red as the shirt she was wearing. He all but fell into his seat, sprawling long legs under the desk and turning his dark blue eyes to Zercey, watching as she attempted to flirt with the clearly annoyed teacher. Seeing her try to make him jealous was adorable, it almost made him want to pinch her pretty cheeks. He threw an arm over the empty seat next to him, glancing at it before turning his dark blue eyes to Zercey with a pointed look and a smile that could make panties drop, or so they told him. Zercey hated that it was working. She let out a huff, but collected her expensive, designer bag and marched to the back of class, sitting in the seat Lerki directed her to. She really shouldn’t let him have so much power, she usually liked to keep her boy toys in their places, but dammit, he was just so stupidly hot. He knew it too and his grin widened when she did exactly what he wanted her to.

“Good girl,” he purred, letting his eyes wander over, drinking in the sight of her in her miniskirt and heels. Lerki liked to think she’d put them on with him in mind. “Hey gorgeous,” he whispered, leaning across the aisle until he could smell her Chanel perfume. “Maybe after school today we could…”

The sound of Mr. Bracken ‘accidentally’ slamming a pile of books onto the front desk cut off whatever Lerki intended to say. He had good ears and he’d had to listen to those two exchange horrifying comments for the entire semester. There was only so much he could take this early in the morning. I knew it was a bad idea to take a job in a public high school, Mr. Bracken bemoaned internally, I should have just waited for that position in the local private school to open up next year. I don’t deserve this level of nonsense. “Good news!” He put on his best smile and tried to ignore the creepily dreamy looks some of his students sent him. “Today I will assign everyone the book they’ll use for their book report!” Internally he delighted at the sounds of their groans and suffering. “I hope you all like medieval literature!” Scyanatha rolled her eyes, but didn’t even bother to glance up from her pale pink smartphone where she was scrolling through the comments on her latest selfie. This class was stupid, and it was ridiculous that she had to take it. Why would she ever need to read books anyways? She would be a model and marry Seth. This course was nothing but hindering her future. Didn't Bracken know how many selfies and self-promotion she could get done in an hour? Like… a lot. Instead, she was stuck here and the hotness of the teacher didn’t make up for the mind-numbing boredom she felt. At least she wasn’t alone, she stretched out one of her long legs and nudged Zercey’s back with the top of her lacy, Jimmy Choo heel. She flashed her cell phone when Zercey turned before quickly dropping it back below her desk and out of sight to send her a message in their group chat. Scybaby: so when r u gonna to put mr blond sexy into his place? Starflyer4: Working on it! Scybaby: u no he’s into you… obvs… just stop playing his game! Starflyer4: I’m weak to blonds Scy! U kno this ImoL0v3: As much as I agree with Scy (he’s so into you) this project is like 40% of our grade. Pay attention. Scybaby: not doing it… seth can def pay 1 of the nerds to do it 4 me. we have better things to do with our time ;) ImoL0v3: Gross. Scybaby: jealous? u no Seth has some hot friends, I can totes hook u up ImoL0v3: Those creepy college bros? Pass. Starflyer4: Can Seth actually pay people do to the project?! Imogen was amused, if not a little exasperated. She had no doubts that Seth could wave some money around and get all of their projects done and it sounded exactly like the sort of thing he’d do. It was almost tempting to see if he’d also get someone to do hers, but as class president she was going to be watched closer than the other students. She’d have no choice but to do it herself. Maybe Salem could help. Medieval literature should be right up his alley. It also gave her an excuse to be in his presence without Scy and Zercey both freaking out over it. She cast a glance to her two friends, both only breaking away from their cellphones to look up at the board and pretend to pay attention. She could ask Salem for help, but she’d definitely have to do it outside of school. Even with an excuse it was too risky to be around him where others could see. She couldn’t even imagine how quickly her reputation would go down the toilet if anyone found out she talked to him.

By @guardians-of-las-vyxen

[mrslittletall]

Title: Keeping it together (Chapter 7) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Lord's Blade Ciaran, Hawkeye Gough Word Count: 1.659 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328084/chapters/39158050 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/180350106064/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-6

Summary: The remaining knights make a decision, Ornstein and Ciaran talks about feeling, a letter is send.

Ornstein found Ciaran sitting next to the make-shift grave. As he approached her, she looked up.

“You are awake? Feeling better?”, she asked.

“Yes and good morning.”, Ornstein answered. It was kind of the half-truth, since he had felt awful just a few hours ago, but it had managed to ease into the slight stomach ache he had started with.

“So, why are you here?”, Ciaran asked.

“I need to talk to you and Gough about an offer Princess Dusk made.”, Ornstein explained. “Ciaran, have you even been back to the mansion to sleep?”, he added. “You haven't been here the whole night, have you?”, worry shaded his face.

“I have been there and got some sleep, don't worry.”, Ciaran simply said. “I just got back here early. You know that I never needed much sleep.” She stood up. “Let us go see Gough so we can talk about that offer.”

The both of them walked to Gough's tower where the giant was busy carving like usual. He greeted them both when they entered and the two knights took a seat on the ground around him.

“So...”, Ornstein started. “Princess Dusk was asking if a burial for Artorias was already decided and when I negated that, she was offering that Oolacile could erect a grave for him here in the royal garden.” He stopped to look into the round, both the gazes of Ciaran and Gough were on him, even though Gough seemed to look a little bit too much to the left. “I personally think that Artorias would have loved it to have a grave at this place. But I can't decide this on my own. What do you think? And has any of you having his testament?”

Because the knights were painfully aware that they could die fulfilling their duties anytime, it was common practice for them to fill out and carry a last will them.

“I have it.”, Ciaran said. “But there wasn't anything about a burial wish in it. It was mostly about his personal belongings. A lot of them are going to Sif.”

“I should be surprised, but I aren't...”, Ornstein said. That was very typical for Artorias, he had loved this wolf above all else. Thinking about that it was still laying besides its master corpse, made his stomach sting.

“So, what do you think, shall we lay Artorias' burial in the care of Oolacile?”

“I am in favour of it.”, Gough said, picking up another piece of wood to carve on it. “Artorias surely would like to have a resting place amidst the nature he loved so much.”

“I agree with this too.”, Ciaran said.

“Then it is settled.”, Ornstein rummaged around and produced the writing materials he had brought earlier. “Ciaran, would you help me write a message for Gwyndolin, please?”

“One day you have to work on your handwriting.”, Ciaran said. “Artorias won't be there forever to help you.” All three knights fell into a sudden silence when they realized what she just had said. Ornstein could feel his stomach twist.

“It wasn't... meant... like that... Shit.”, Ciaran said and hurried away from the tower.

“I better go after her.”, he said to Gough and followed the small assassin.

He found her praying in front of the grave again. “Ciaran, are you feeling alright?”, he asked, sitting down next to her.

“You are the one asking me this, really? The one who has turned up here and already has been sick?” There wasn't any sarcasm in her voice, she just sounded... tired. After a good while of them just sitting there, she sighed.

“It's just... hard to grasp. That he has been the first, you know.”, she said.

Ornstein knew exactly what she meant. He never had thought that Artorias really would have been the first of the four knights to die. He shuddered a bit at the word, it still felt so strange thinking about this. Just a week ago they had sat together and joked around. It felt like it had been years ago now.

“Who do you think would have been the first to die?”, he asked, part of him was curious about it, part of him just wanted to get the conversation in another direction.

“Honestly? At first, you.”, Ciaran answered immediately.

“Ouch, I thought you had more trust in me.”, Ornstein said, grinning under his helmet but actually feeling slightly hurt at her word.

Ciaran sighed. “Don't take it the wrong way, that was back in the dragon war. When there was this lunatic fighting dragons completely on his own. I was seeing you getting burned to a crisp every single day. But it never happened. So, after the dragon war was over, I was thinking it would be me. There are so many things that can go wrong during an assassination and I was trained to end my own life as quickly as possible should I be detected.” She turned her head around and looked directly at Ornstein. “So, what about you?”

“Actually... I thought it would be me too.”, Ornstein admitted.

“It just doesn't feel fair.”, Ciaran said. “We can sit here and mourn as much as we want that Artorias would still be here, that he would have outlived us, but that would mean he would be the one sitting there, mourning our deaths.”, Ciaran said. “It never mattered which one of us died first, we all lost.”

Ornstein needed a moment to process her words. Ciaran didn't sound alright, she surely was suffering terribly. He wished he could do something or say something for her, but he knew that there was nothing he could do or say to ease her pain. Like nobody would be able to ease his pain with a few well-meaning words. He stared at the makeshift grave, then at Artorias and started to wonder about something.

“Ciaran, what is with Artorias soul?”, he asked. They all had been granted parts of Lord Gwyn's light soul and they counted as special souls. And if an owner of such a soul would have something to regret, they normally would linger on.

“The soul... the Undead who put him to rest got it.”, Ciaran said. Of course, Undead tended to draw souls to them. It was said that the souls tried to fill out their hollowing, but alas, they could collect myriads of soul power, no Undead so far hadn't gone hollow at some point.

“So they still have it, I assume?”, Ornstein asked.

“No, I have it.” Ciaran produced a shimmering light, easily to recognize as a soul, but Ornstein instantly saw what was wrong with it.

“Ciaran, this is just... wrong.”, he said. The soul was supposed to have a bright shine to it, to look pristine and clear, but it was dark and wavered around. Ornstein suddenly remembered the dream he had and shuddered.

“I know. The corruption... it got so bad that it tainted him to his very soul. I am just glad that Undead put a stop on his berserk rage. The lords know what would have happened had he made it outside of the arena.” Ciaran hugged the soul for a brief moment before putting it away.

“I am sorry for all this.”, she said. “Let us go write this message for Gwyndolin now.”

The both knights returned to the tower where Gough had picked up his carving again. “You are surprisingly calm about this.”, Ornstein said while he prepared the paper he brought along.

“Worrying won't bring me anywhere.”, the giant hummed. “I am just glad that Artorias was stopped before something worse could happen and is at peace now.”

Ornstein was fairly sure that Artorias wasn't feeling at peace or his soul wouldn't had stuck around. But there was also the possibility that undead drew souls to them regardless of their owner regretting things that happened in their lifetime. Sadly, they would never know the truth. He gave Ciaran the quill and the ink pot and dictated the letter for Gwyndolin to her. Ciaran wrote all of it down without saying a single word. When she was done, she handed the letter to Ornstein who gave it another read. Ciaran's handwriting wasn't as beautiful as Artorias, but her sharp letters could be made out much more easily than his messy handwriting.

“Thanks, Ciaran. I will return to the mansion and send off a bird right now.”, he said.

“If you need anything else, you will find me right here.”, Ciaran said. They said their goodbyes to Gough who raised a giant arm to wave to them in return and descended the tower in silence. Ciaran sat down next to the grave, Ornstein could see from the corner of his eyes that Sif joined her, and he made his way back to the mansion after waving goodbye to Ciaran.

He arrived at the guest room he occupied and noticed with satisfaction that another pillow had been added to his bed and the jar of water had been replaced with a full one. He walked to the desk in the room and lit the candle on it. After he put the letter into an envelope, he had to wait a short time for the wax to melt but could finally gather enough of it to seal the letter with his lion seal. He exhausted the candle and went to find a servant to hand the letter to so that it would get on its way to Gwyndolin immediately.

After the letter was taken care off, all Ornstein could do now was wait for the answer. He didn't feel like sitting in his room and staring at the wall, so he decided to go outside and find a way to kill some time. (Author's note: Nobody is feeling alright and they know it.) Next chapter: N/A